Symphony of Shadows

27. Broth

A/N: Guess who's back? Me! Sorry for the long pause, school has gotten really busy but here's this chapter:)

It was as if a fog had lifted, and Astrid could think clearly for the first time in however many days she had been gone for. Slowly, the feeling was coming back into her limbs. She tried to sit up but failed miserably, prompting Gothi to wag her finger at Astrid disapprovingly. It would take another day or two, but she would get better, and once she was fully healed, she would get right back to her mission.

She hated knowing that she'd wasted her precious time and cursed herself for being careless enough to put her in this position. Truthfully, the almost-dying ordeal had really shaken her. She was always used to being fearless Astrid Hofferson, but for the first time in a long time, she had felt true, desperate fear. Flashes of that night kept on haunting her: the fiery blaze, the gargantuan Monstrous Nightmare, and the ensuing chase that led to her burns. That was the shocking part of waking up, feeling the burns that had seared her body so badly she had passed out because of the pain and amount of smoke inhalation.

Yet, there was another part of that night that she was having trouble remembering. A memory that kept on slipping away the harder she tried to grasp it. No matter how hard she tried, she ended up with nothing more than a headache. The whole of what happened gaped at her, taunting her, and she wouldn't stop until she figured out what exactly she was missing.

Astrid's parents had already visited her along with Stoick, who had brought her newly sharpened axe, for which she was more than grateful. It was now leaning against her bedside, where Gothi had left some broth and bread for her to eat and regain her strength. Her father had practically thrown his arms around her when he had walked through the door, and a tear made its way down Astrid's cheek at her father's outward show of affection. Her mother, on the other hand, was a much different story. She'd sat on the end of her bed, silent as her father rambled on about how worried they were. The only thing she bothered to contribute to the conversation was that she was glad that her daughter was okay, but she knew Astrid would eventually get hurt being a warrior. Astrid was much too tired for her 'I told you so' tirade, so she feigned fatigue, and Gothi rushed them out of the hut. The little woman could pick up on social cues better than Astrid had given her credit for.

Now she lay in her bed, propped up so she could sit, but her range of movement was pretty limited. Gothi had reapplied the healing salve on her burns, and Astrid had gotten a good look at the damage done by the flames. It was not a pretty sight. Not that she had ever been vain. Even so, who wanted to be covered in grisly scars all the time? A few scars were a testament to bravery and courage, but too many signaled that you were bad at your job. Astrid hoped she could avoid the latter, but she would have to complete her mission first in order to do so. She used her sedentary time to painstakingly go over every single detail she knew about the damned dragon rider.

He raided villager islands with a large flock of dragons, but how did he control them? He'd never been seen shouting any commands or wielding a weapon—well, except if you could call a Night Fury a weapon, then yes. It didn't make sense to her. How had he even gained control over the Night Fury? She remembered studying the Book of Dragons, and there was barely anything known about them, much less how to subdue one. Night Furies were incredibly powerful but also incredibly rare, so how did he manage to find one? More and more questions piled up, with not nearly enough answers.

Suddenly, Astrid had a revelation. If the dragon rider wasn't using any means to control the dragons, what if he wasn't controlling them at all? What if...the Night Fury was controlling them? She had read somewhere about dragon alphas and how they could control a flock of dragons, some species through literal mind control. What if the Night Fury was their alpha? If so, it still didn't make sense how the dragon rider could subjugate the alpha long enough to control it, let alone ride it. However, this alpha theory made a lot more sense than any of her previous attempts at understanding what was truly going on.

Finally, Astrid had a lead. She decided to just try to get up on her own, just for her own pride. She couldn't just sit around and lie idly while some muttonhead terrorized the archipelago. Slowly, she willed her body to comply, and she managed to drag her legs to the edge of the bed despite the excruciating pain she felt in her thigh. Mustering all of her strength, she tried to push off the bed and stand up, almost making it halfway until her knees buckled and she collapsed onto the floor.

Crying out in pain, she tried to at least sit up and leaned back into the side of the bed. It was humiliating as Gothi came over and scolded her for trying out her little stunt, but she had to try. Miraculously, Gothi hefted her up onto the bed again, and Astrid obeyed, returning to her spot on the bed.

She turned her attention to something she could accomplish in the near future, which was eating her first meal in a long time. Reaching over for the broth and bread, she made sure not to expose the healing burns on her hands to the warm bowl. At least she could feed herself—that she could be grateful for.

Yet, she couldn't help but feel like something was off. Gothi kept on shuffling around and eyeing her nervously. Astrid wasn't fluent in Gothi like Gobber was, but she knew the obvious signs of someone who was holding something back. She could only wonder what it was as she sipped on the meaty broth and wondered what Hiccup was up to.