The Blacksmith's Apprentice

Twenty Six: This has to end

Astrid was pinned on her back on a low bedframe-Snotlout's bed, Hiccup realised with a surge of nausea-with Dogsbreath and Lars having to pin her arms down. She was fighting and thrashing, shouting a stream of expletives, though hoarse because Hiccup could see the marks of hands around her throat in the light from the several lamps interspersed round the relatively intact room. There were bruises and blood on her face and her top was torn. But Snotlout was kneeling between her knees, tearing at her clothes.

"You really are completely pathetic!" she spat. "I rejected you! I have rejected you every time you made a pass at me. And I am Promised to another. But you don't understand that, do you? And you can't get anyone, can you?"

"A Viking takes what he wants," Snotlout sneered, glaring menacingly into her battered face. "Don't worry, Astrid. Useless would just have disappointed here as he does in everything else!"

"He's ten times the man you are!" Astrid hissed, writhing fiercely, flinching as he slapped her again.

"Less than half," Snotlout sneered. "But don't worry, babe-I'm sure I can make sure you at least have something worth remembering..."

Hiccup threw himself down the steps, seeing a shape come in from the right and blindly, he swung, flipping the blade so the flat impacted hard into the enemy's face. Sven collapsed backwards like a felled tree as Lars lunged forward.

"Look out!" Astrid cried before Snotlout slammed a hand over her mouth. Alerted, Hiccup dinked sideways as Lars threw himself at the auburn-haired Viking, missing the brutal blow aimed at his head and the backswing carved his attacker's shoulder open, sending him back clutching at the wound. Snotlout looked up, eyes darting to his mace, resting against the wall but even as he looked, Hiccup had lunged forward, the sword digging up into Snotlout's throat. Emerald eyes narrowed as he glared at his perennial tormentor.

"Get. Off. Her!" he ground out through gritted teeth and Snotlout's mouth opened to snarl an insult. "One word, Snot, and you'll never speak-or breathe-again!"

There were heavy steps behind him and Hiccup prayed that it was someone decent, as opposed to Spitelout and his cronies.

"Dogsbreath-let her go. Now!" Hiccup insisted.

"You're gonna regret this..." the bully threatened but there was a creak of leather behind Hiccup.

"I doubt that," Stoick the Vast growled, entering the room with Gobber, Gustav and Spitelout at his back. All of them had seen Hiccup threaten Snotlout and the compromising position the Heir was in. "Dogsbreath, Lars, Sven-stand back. And you, Snotlout..." His cold grey-green gaze swept over the black-haired young man. "You are a disgrace to your family, to your Chief and to Berk." Scrambling to his feet as Hiccup watched, Snotlout looked up at the Chief, his face unrepentant.

"It's only Astrid Hofferson," he sneered. "I am the Heir. I should get the choice of eligible women in Berk. But you let her refuse me and worse, you let Useless become Promised! I am only taking back what should be mine by right anyway!" Hiccup shoved him back and dropped to his knees by Astrid, who was shakily pushing herself up to a sitting position and trying to curl up. His emerald eyes stricken, the apprentice reached out for her tentatively then paused.

"Astrid?" he said gently. Her azure eyes flicked up, shining with misery and grief.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, her arms wrapped around her body. "I couldn't fight them all..." And then he wrapped his arms around her, a low groan in his throat as he felt her stiffen.

"No, it's my fault," he whispered urgently. "It's all my fault. If you hadn't been friends with me, if I hadn't stepped up to the Meatheads and claimed you as my Promised, this wouldn't have happened. I am so sorry, Astrid. This is all my fault..." She leaned into him, her arms sliding round his lean shape, her body shaking.