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Carry the CanCarry the Can
The letter of confirmation was folded neatly in his room, buried in a safebox where he filed several other letters of correspondence. He wished he had it with him… that he could just thrust it in Astrid's face and have her read for herself the subject he feared broaching...
Hiccup supposed he could always choose the option of never telling her—but with his pattern of luck it would blow up in his face down the line when he least expected it.
So, lacking a proper excuse not to tell her, and long before he felt ready, Hiccup entered the Nadder stables where Astrid buffed Sturmflae's saddle.
"Hey." His voice cracked at the tail end of his greeting and his hand faltered in a feeble wave.
Astrid looked up and smiled at him. "Hey yourself."
Hiccup felt even worse. That smile—he loved that smile. It would be sliding off her face sometime in the impending conversation.
They had been more than polite toward o
Astrid's StoryHe left.
Astrid Hofferson was in a bad place when she last saw Hiccup, if we can remember. It was bad enough she lost the attention of her peers and village, but she lost her place as the Most Valuable Trainee. By this point in the story, Astrid was driven into such anger and such suspicion that she had knocked down Hiccup, stepped on him, and hit him with the butt of her axe.
She’d be lying if she said that didn’t relieve a little bit of her stress.
So, yes, Astrid was not in a very stable condition when she last saw Hiccup, and that stability took a further turn by the reaction of the village to her revelation of Hiccup's secret. She told them, plainly, that Hiccup was harboring a Night Fury, catering to it like a dear pet. They laughed at her.
Bear in mind, Astrid was proven right. Hiccup was up to no good. Not only did he cheat to defeat all those dragons, but he was also consorting with their generation-old enemy. He was riding on the back of
Rules of the Haddock HouseholdRules for the Haddock Household
"That's for everything else" is not grounds for punching others.
Hiding a dragon in the house other than Toothless or Tornaven is not a laughing matter and I will know.
I've heard the "I'm making outfits" one, too. There's no way you're getting away with that.
I know my cooking isn't the best, but that doesn't mean you can give it to Toothless. (This goes for you too, Hiccup.)
You can't try to feed the cat to Toothless, either.
Hiding Daddy's leg is in no way funny and will land you in the time-out corner.
Don't pull on Toothless's head-frills.
This also goes for Grandpa's beard.
No bashyball in the house.
Then again, no bashyball, period.
Mommy gets extremely mad if you mention the size of her backside in relativity to that of a dragon's.
Toothless's fear of eels isn't funny.
Don't try to throw my axe unless you want to end up like Daddy last Thor'sday Thursday.
Actually, I think he's suffered worse by my hands.
...and you threw that thing out into the sea!Hiccup lay in bed and listened to the even pattern of his dragon breathing, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he waited for sleep. His eyes shifted to the weathered dragon doll hung over his headboard.
His father's words of earlier echoed in his mind in a haunting reverberation.
"One day we were out fishing and you threw that thing out into the sea!"
Hiccup remembered that day. He did. He remembered sitting beside his father, remembered the sunless, grey sky, he remembered how the wood of the fishing pole chafed against his palms.
He almost told him just then, just after his father brought it up. Hiccup almost told his father the truth because they had been so open with each other as of late. Hiccup had held the little dragon in his hands, scouring his mind for the gentlest words needed, but when he oppened his mouth all he said was, "How did you find it?" and the moment had passed.
Hiccup blinked away the memory o
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