This is where I belong ||httyd fanfic||

49. A big mistake

.

.

.

....................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Astrid was enraged... no, fuming... stamping down so hard the land practically cracked with each of her steps.

Everywhere she turned, it was one revolting sight after another - profaners and kidnappers, Vikings in name alone spouting words of comfort she only found vomit-inducing to the sinful beasts they kept in her homes. How quickly she was coming to regret the decision to leave her own axe on the boat, believing her only chance in bringing Berk's rightful chief back home or in even leaving alive within peaceful negotiation. Now she was left to humor herself with dark thoughts of these people's proper punishment for their blasphemy. She never should have assumed it would be this easy.

Hiccup lived to make other people's lives more difficult, she forced herself to admit after pushing away any remaining feelings of thought. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered why she and the others had to apologize at all. Yes, they were harsh, and abused and mocked him, refusing to even entertain his innovative ideas, but they did it for his own benefit. He needed to learn to be a leader, and he would be lucky if even the sheep in their farmers' pens followed him as he was. If anything he was the one who should apologize, especially when she remembered he had been the one to cause such a huge mess of things.

She stood upon a small hill near the village's Kill Ring, though she was sure it no longer lived up to its name, probably being used as some other dragon-friendly contraption. Overlooking the village, Astrid closed her eyes and allowed herself to erase her own memories of their fancy tricks and imagine the scene in a setting befitting the world's proper order, in the midst of a dragon raid. Chaos abundant, flames billowing forth with clouds of smoke like towers, the devils swarming and swooping down ready for their next kill or to be slain themselves. This madness was as it should be.

"Hey, who the heck are you!?"

She turned around to see two teenagers, probably about her age, dressed in Viking attire; she recognized them quickly as two of the riders from the Sky Parade that afternoon. Their stupid pet dragons were with them now, in fact, the Monstrous Nightmare and the Thunderdrum. She had guessed the voice had come from the more aggressive looking one, since the other looked like he was about to either puke or cry, for all the nervousness rolling off him in waves.

"I asked you a question!" The tough one, Raoul, yelled again. "Are you one of the intruders we've been hearing about? State your business!" Astrid said nothing but gave him a brutal glare.

"Hey, We are asking you something. Who are you?" The timid one, Sven, asked. "Why have you come here?" Again, she was silent.

"Oh, you wanna do this the hard way, fine!" Raoul said, marching up to her. "Let's see what the chief has to say about trespassers snooping around. I wouldn't go counting on my looks to save me if I wer-"His snide comment was cut off quick as Astrid delivered a solid punch to the jaw, knocking him to the ground.

"Wha-hey! What the heck is wrong with you ?" Sven cried, watching Raoul clutch his jaw and try to wipe off the blood seeping from his lip.

"Keep your dirty hands off me, you bottom-feeding, troll-brained rats!" She growled. Both boys just stared at her with their jaws dropped.

"Y-you, who do you think you are?" Sven called, trying to march up to Astrid in much the same way. He grabbed his spear holstered behind him and tried to charge forward. A slow jog at best in the perspective of a seasoned warrior like Astrid, turning and yanking the spear from his hands and slamming his forehead with the base. A kick to the stomach sent Sven to the ground, with another good kick to the face and several to the stomach from the vicious shield-maiden. Bomris roared in fear to his rider being physically decimated right before him, locked in place by a combination of his own rage and docility warring inside him