The Blacksmith's Apprentice

Two: Outcasts

"Hi Astrid," he grinned and revealed his present. "Sorry it took a while. Could I speak for a moment?" She smiled back and nodded, waving the teens to continue their preparations and glaring at Gustav who was whining in a manner that Snotlout would have been proud of. She led them over to the side of the Arena, by the gate. He gently placed the axe in her hands and she smiled-though the expression faded as she registered what she was holding.

"Hiccup?" she asked cautiously and he sighed.

"The edge wouldn't take sharpening," he told her with a sigh. "And I couldn't leave you without a weapon, what with all the raids. So I melted it down and put some new high grade iron in to make you a new axe head. Um...that's why it took so long..."

"I thought it was all that work you had," she admitted and he gave a weak smile.

"Yeah, I think everyone heard that," he said awkwardly. "So...the axe head is your axe head-it's all the same iron, just reshaped and strengthened. I used the same template because it suits your reach and it's what you're used to-but it's better tempered and very sharp." She turned it over in her hands, feeling the comforting contours of her own axe-haft and checking the balance: of course, it was absolutely perfect, as she had expected. Her eyes focussed on the delicate etching and her lips curled up in a delighted smile.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" she gasped. "Perfect weight and balance and absolutely stunning." She flung her arms around him. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear and he wrapped his arms around her in a delighted hug, reluctantly releasing her as she pulled away.

"For you, Milady-anything," he admitted with a smile. She twirled the weapon in her hands and then slung it comfortably across her back, a relieved smile lighting her eyes.

"That feels so much better," she told him and he nodded.

"Um...you did have something missing," he teased her gently. "Astrid Hofferson with no axe? Unthinkable!" She gently swatted his shoulder and he grinned back.

"I guess I should be grateful you didn't hit me with the axe," he quipped and she smiled at him then.

"I better go," she murmured, leaning close. "If I leave Gustav for long, he'll blow up the Arena."

"Mini-Snot," he murmured and she caught his dry words, then laughed in delight.

"Gods, that's brilliant," she giggled. "I may use that!" He sketched a slight bow.

"You're welcome," he smirked and nodded, then turned and left. The teens were all lined up, most of them whispering and nudging each other.

"Oooh! Astrid loves Hiccup!" Else Jorgensen sneered. The girl was solid with regular features, jet hair in two thick braids and cool blue eyes like her older brother. She set great store on the fact thats she was the sister of the Heir. Tiril Gunnarson was a slight blonde girl with a wicked sense of humour-as would be expected in a cousin of the twins while the hefty Hilda Forfang was a powerfully-built girl with thick brown braids whose Aunt was the intimidating Phlegma the Fierce. The last member of the group, Yaklegs Ingerman, was a husky lad with chubby features that echoed his older brother Fishlegs. He was more of an extrovert, though he was still bright and had an encyclopaedic knowledge of the most unexpected things.

'Why would she want to do that?" Hilda asked in a disparaging voice. "I mean, he's Useless, scrawny and worthless!"

"Yeah-we all saw Gobber chew him out!" Gustav piped up from the ground. "Forty-one" he added.

"Hiccup is a skilled smith," Astrid interrupted sharply. "He mended my axe. He is clearly not Useless!"

"He can't fight," Tiril reminded her. "He was lucky to survive Dragon Training! And his own father disowned him as he was no good!" Astrid bit back her instinctive reply-that Hiccup wasn't aggressive or overconfident or brash but he was kind, skilled and determined and he never deserved the abuse heaped on him-because she knew the kids were just repeating what they had been told. Instead, she drew her axe and threw it in the same motion, splitting the centre of the target.