The Blacksmith's Apprentice

Ten: Fight My Own Way

Ten: Fight my own way

Curled up on a hard wooden bed in Astrid's new house, Hiccup was drowsy from the infusion Gothi had left strict instructions to feed him morning and night. It was bitter and made him very sleepy but right now, it was a blessing because he needed the rest. And, though he was ashamed to consider it, he was feeling far safer with her than he had back in the forge.

Stoick and Gobber had brought a hard and basic bed to Astrid's home that afternoon and had installed it in the ground door, by the fire-pit. The Chief had also supplied another couple of the deep red tunics, olive green leggings and a basic belt. Hiccup had already decided he would mend his own dagger when he was stronger and his broken hand was knitting-and his agile mind had already considered that the rent strips of leather from the ruined tunic could be woven into a flexible tunic-with a few pieces of padding and armour... And then Astrid, Stoick and Gobber had helped Hiccup to Astrid's house-meaning the stubborn young man had tried to walk himself and had been lifted into the Chief's arms once his strength had failed and carried up to the Shield Maiden's rebuilt home.

Astrid's home had been appallingly plain and devoid of possessions but a fire was burning in the fire pit and she had his furs washed and cleaned and waiting for him-along with the torn remains of his journal and the plans and blueprints the vandals hadn't found. He had limped in, being gently helped onto the bed.

"I...um...think I probably need to help you a bit..." he mumbled, embarrassed but she pointedly pulled the furs up over his beaten shape and stroked his hair.

"You can help me when you're more healed," she said sternly. "Hiccup-you have done so much for me and I really haven't done much for you at all."

"Um...except saving my life and getting me medical help and giving me a roof over my head..." he mumbled, blushing. Then he looked up, emerald eyes wide and grateful. "And I can never thank you enough," he admitted softly. She smiled and tucked him in.

"You can thank me when you're well," she repeated. "For now, I'm going to get us some food from the Great Hall and then we can eat here together..."

"You don't have to," he said quickly but when she smiled his heart fluttered.

"Just try to stop me, Hiccup," she said gently and flounced to the door. She tossed him a smirk and left the small room. And then, exhausted and in pain, he had curled up and dropped asleep.

He was woken when Astrid returned, perching gently on the edge of the bed with two bowls of hot stew. Blinking owlishly, he painfully sat up and gave a grateful smile. She scooted next to him and gently handed him his stew. They quietly ate, her eyes flicking up to inspect his beaten shape and smile as she saw him swallow the desperately needed food. He finished first, having learnt to eat much quicker than she did.

"I feel ashamed that you're sleeping on the floor while I have a bed," he mumbled, laying the bowl aside. She smiled and chewed her bread cheerfully.

"I promised to look after you," she reminded him. "After all, I was the one who claimed you were the man I love. And letting you sleep on the floor when you have been so injured isn't a great way of showing that."

"Kind of matches up with how the rest of my family shows they care," he muttered but she smiled at him and swatted his shoulder gently. He groaned. "Owww...." he whimpered. She grabbed his tunic and pulled him towards her.

"Mutton-head," she scolded him. "I care." He winced.

"Are you always this violent?" he protested.

"All the time," she confirmed and he gave a small smile.

"Guess I'll have to get used to bruises," he sighed, "not that I'm not already..." She stared into his eyes.