Symphony of Shadows

12. Red

TW: Graphic Depiction of Violence and Mentions of SA

Astrid could feel the rough hands of the Viking trying to shove her against the wall, and she almost killed him then and there. However, she didn't want to become a fugitive murderer so she tried the nicer route instead.

Astrid let out a bloody scream, "Please! Don't hurt me! If it's money you want, I have some in my satchel!" She tried to reason with the man, but it was no use. Maybe she could have tried a little harder to keep her cover from being blown, but Astrid had had enough.

She slackened her body so the Viking would loosen his grip on her wrists just enough for her to slam her knee into his family jewels.

He reeled away and clutched his crotch like a scolded child. How pathetic, she thought.

"You bitch! I'm going to fucking kill you when I'm done with you, useless whore!"

"You think you can just take any woman you want? Is that what you think? That women are put on Midgard to serve men like you?" Astrid laughed, savoring the confusion and wrath playing out on the putrid Viking's face.

"This is what you truly deserve." She reared her head back and spit right into his face, smiling as she admired her work before breaking his nose with a right hook to his foul face. As the big ugly brute was distracted by the river of blood currently streaming down his face, Astrid squatted down on the ground and searched for her final blow. She found a medium-sized rock, and swung hard, a dull crack echoing as it made contact with his head.

She watched him fall—nothing but a sad heap now on the floor. How emasculating. Before leaving the beast, she couldn't help but wonder how many other girls he had preyed on. She certainly couldn't have been the first since he had known exactly where no one would be able to hear her screams. How many innocent girls asking for directions or help had been preyed on by this half-witted troll? No, this creature before her didn't deserve her mercy. She knelt down to check if his heart was still beating and felt overjoyed when she heard the faint drum. Astrid would leave him breathing, but she would make sure that the Viking wished he was dead. She took out her new knife set for a test trial—only to pause as she sensed someone and turned to face the intruder.

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While browsing a manual on sailing, Hiccup heard a chilling scream that sounded like a woman. He had thought the manuscript would contain something to help him make his wings more suitable for solo flight—due to the similar manipulation of sails with wind, but his thoughts were abruptly halted at the sound. Dropping the manual, he ran towards the scream that was over in a matter of seconds. Where had it come from? Scanning the empty square, Hiccup caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye.

Yes there, a dark alcove, a typical spot for perverted Vikings. The Eastern Markets didn't provide much protection nor mercy for young women, even merchants' daughters.

Hiccup had found out the hard way when he had been restocking the squid ink a couple of years ago. He had heard a similar scream along with pleas of help from inside the woods. At first he thought it had been an idiot who got too close to a pack of Changewings, but as he got closer and saw what was happening, his face paled.

A young girl, who couldn't have been older than him at the time, was being shoved against a tree, an older, stocky Viking pinning her in place. It had been obvious to Hiccup that the man's intentions had been malicious, so he attempted to intervene by telling the bottom feeder to leave the girl alone. Yet, he was met with a shrug and told to "mind his business", but the girl's tear brimmed eyes begged him to intercede. So, Hiccup did what he knew best: he summoned dragons.

He knew the pack of Changewings had been straying from their typical side of the island, and the book shops were the closest portion of the Eastern Markets to their territory. It had been an educated guess that the dragons were close, so when he imitated a Changewing distress call, he'd prayed to Odin his plan would work. Not only to save the young girl but also prevent the vermin of a Viking to possibly chop Hiccup in half. At the time, the young dragon rider wasn't particularly adept at hand-to-hand combat, so he would have been critically injured or killed if the Changewings hadn't heard his call.

The Viking had laughed at him and told him, "Turn back around, I won't ask you again, lad" but he'd been so distracted threatening Hiccup that he'd failed to see the five Changewings materialize against the trees. The dragon rider had shouted at the girl to run and led her to safety behind a boulder formation, away from the acid and talons. When the Viking's screams had quieted and Hiccup had heard the rustling of the trees as well as wings flapping, he knew they were safe. The girl was no longer trembling as she looked at the melted heap who had been her predator. Hiccup would never forget the fire in her green eyes, and how she had walked towards the heap of melted flesh and bones with her head high, shoulders back, chin up, and spat on the Viking's face, his eyes still closing as he succumbed to death. A deserving final scene, he had thought.

He had asked the girl if she needed any help, but she had shaken her head, mumbled a thank you, and ran away. Hiccup had been utterly disgusted by mankind that day and from then on. How could someone be so cruel with such an utter disregard for humanity to do such a thing? His revulsion only unfurled as he reached the alcove and heard foul curses leave a rather large Viking's lewd mouth.

Hiccup was about to interrupt when he heard the menacing voice of what he assumed was from the lady whose screams he'd heard earlier. Her tone was entirely devoid of emotion except for the slightest cheerful lilt, which made Hiccup pause. She had delivered such a powerful message—so calm, so confident—it startled him. Was she angry? Vengeful? Or just terrifyingly in control? He almost didn't want to stop it. Before he could bring the burly attacker to his knees, Hiccup watched as the woman threw a right hook that nearly tumbled the giant Viking and then proceeded to bash his head with a rock.

What in Odin's name? Hiccup took a sharp intake of breath, which he sorely regretted as the female swung her head in his direction. He was preparing to go to Valhalla (would he even get in?), when his eyes met hers—icy, unrelenting, archipelago-sea blue. His gaze shifted quickly to the blood on her knuckles—and the knife now pointed at him. That familiar stance paired with her cold glare made her impossible to forget—even if it was a lifetime ago.

Astrid.