This isn’t really ShinAi, but I wrote this chapter to Accomplice to start off the prompt posts for my 31 Days of CoAi project! If you haven’t seen my meta post yet:
I will be posting very short fics daily from 4/2 to 4/30! (tag: x prompt fills)
If you’re interested in my ramblings about the CoAi fics I’ve written, I’ll be talking about them one at a time daily from 4/1 to 5/1! (tag: x fic posts)
And, finally, on 5/1, I will be posting One Chilly Morning, which is the third chapter to One Rainy Afternoon, to end my 31 Days of CoAi project…
This month will be a ride, for sure! As much as I’ve expressed how incredibly painful preparing this project for me is, it has been loads of fun for me to express my love for CoAi, and in such a grandiose manner too!
I think I consider this project my love letter to CoAi. I’m a sucker for the romantic, sorry, haha!
I hope everyone enjoys it, too, to the very end!
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31 Days of CoAi
Prompt Fill 1 of 31
Accomplice
Fandom (Pairing): DCMK (CoAi) (KaiShi)
Title: Accomplice
Summary (Word Count): AU where there is no APTX, and the partner became the accomplice. (2493+?)
Links: Also on AO3 and FF. Part 1 is also on Tumblr (tag: x dcmk accomplice)
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“This is the fifth time you hit me, detective!”
As what’s becoming usual between the two of them, Kudo Shinichi ignores Kid’s complaints as he chases Kid across a maze of hallways and stairways, this time in the TV station building where Kid nicked the showpiece during live broadcast.
The way this Kid is much more talkative tells Shinichi the thief he’s been chasing for the past heists is Thief Kid. Only Thief Kid.
And that pisses Shinichi off more than he’d like. Is Thief Kid thinking he can just pull off whatever he wants against him without the assistance he’s particularly proud of?
Shinichi can’t deny Thief Kid did manage to escape last time. And the other time. And that other time, too. But that’s in the past. The present is much more important because in the present he’s been leading Thief Kid into a dead end and he’s been wonderful in cooperating so far.
Yes, a dead end that does not include rooftops, nor windows and, even, vents.
All this while kicking various office property at Thief Kid that he swears is necessary for him to be able to lead Kid into his setup. Yes, all necessary. He can’t help that he has just that good aim since he’s just that good at soccer, and that Thief Kid can’t dodge completely right?
As Thief Kid leaps to the right after Shinichi kicks a trash can to his left, smoothly going into the room Shinichi has been steering him into since the chase began, he shouts, “Will you stop being so violent if I answer one question of yours?”
Shinichi enters the room in a beat, and excited as he is with his plans falling into place, he doesn’t even think before he asks, “You’re alone this time?”
In the middle of the room, Thief Kid is stunned into silence for more than a second, and Shinichi feels seeing the expression is so gratifying... until Thief Kid laughs. As much as Shinichi wanted to remain unaffected, the corners of his mouth turn down, uncontrollably, to an unmistakable grimace.
They stay like that for a short moment, Shinichi blocking the only exit to the room and Thief Kid cackling while holding his sides, in full of view of the unamused detective in front of him.
Thief Kid, after laughing for a good while, wheezes, “...That’s it? That’s the question?”
Shinichi’s scowl grows deeper in reply.
Thief Kid, as chatty as he’s proven to be these past heists and as shameless as Shinichi had always assumed him to be, continues, “Are you trying to pick me up? Or are you trying to pick me up?! Oh, another misguided youth, you wouldn’t be able to handle me! To be honest, the safer option is to fancy the good ol’ me in front of you! Oh, but then, dear, why so violent! You must be gentle when courting! That must be why you’re still single, detective...”
Not even bothering to focus on whatever nonsense Thief Kid has been spouting, Shinichi backs up a few steps to end up just outside the doorway, and proceeds to kick the bin nearby in a perfect trajectory to Thief Kid’s incessantly babbling mouth.
Thief Kid deftly sidesteps to avoid the projectile, all the while dramatically intoning, “Whoa, whoa, detective, keep that up and you’ll chase me away! I’m not an M, really, I’m actually pretty vanilla! I prefer the traditional way of courting—”
With a snappy kick to the top of the bin that had fallen off, Shinichi manages to hit him right on his arm this time, and Thief Kid yelps, “—Ouch!”
“Hey! Ok, ok, I’m alone today! Tch!”
Seemingly soured by another arm injury, Thief Kid throws a familiar canister hard on the spot on the floor between the two of them almost petulantly—but Shinichi is prepared. He quickly wears the mask he had Hakase make and rushes Thief Kid.
He’s just four—no, three big steps away from Thief Kid, and then he feels a prick right smack in the middle of his forehead. He feels his senses fade, and the foot he had raised in an effort to take an even larger stride to handcuff Thief Kid lands on the floor without strength, and he falls, face down.
“This is going to cost me big...” is what Shin hears over the hissing of the cloudy white gas from the canister, which is evidently not the sleep gas he had been preparing for.
The last thing he hears is a big sigh before everything cuts to black, and it frustrates Shinichi that he knows exactly why this feels like déjà vu.
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When the next Kid heist comes around, Shinichi’s face is set to such a grim expression that even Nakamori-keibu is apprehensive about going near him, much less ask him why.
Shinichi doesn’t notice the dark aura arising from him though. He’s mentally going through his plans and their preparations, watching the clock as the seconds tick closer and closer to the announced time.
Still, whatever his plans and how intricate they may be, Shinichi certainly didn’t expect that before the heist has even started, he’ll find himself blacking out already.
And out cold he is, with a handful of seconds to spare before the clock rang out the time.
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As soon as Shinichi regained consciousness, his resentment overrode his survival instincts and, without even taking note of his state and his surroundings, he immediately forces out the words, “Is this a thing, you rendering me unconscious?”
“Hit him again and I’ll make sure you won’t be able to move a single limb for a week,” is what he hears before he can even regain his focus.
It’s that flat voice, familiar in its tone, at the same time unfamiliar due to the high, decidedly feminine, pitch it now has, that responded to him.
It’s him—or her, Escape Kid. Shinichi feels a bit of pride, being able to force both Kids to act against him.
But then again, he can’t exactly gloat right now since there’s a dangerous intent emanating, not so much dripping killing intent, but enough menace to know Escape Kid fully intends to go through his threats.
And he can’t even lift his head nor open his eyes yet to see just where he’s been dragged off to.
Quite possibly, and correctly, expecting him to stay silent in his disorientation, Escape Kid continues, “I trust you’re smart enough to understand with just one warning, detective. Because I only warn once.”
Shinichi hears a rustle of clothes and shuffling of feet, and he deduces that Escape Kid is about to leave. Escape Kid stops a moment though, and Shinichi hears them say, “And. Not that he’d need me to outwit idiots… but he’s not alone. So since you aren’t any help, stop messing with us. Else—”
“—You’ll knock me out at every heist. How very imaginative of you, and how very unlike a criminal,” Shinichi croaks, with as much ridicule as he can, cutting them off as he struggles to sit up, tied up as he is.
“So noble,” he continues, hoping it drips with as much sarcasm as he intended that to have. He can finally open his eyes a bit, the light flooding his sight, surprisingly, since he expected to be locked in a dark room, even when he’s managed to open them in just tiny slits.
“Clearly I’m the villain here, and it’s Kid, innocent Kid, who must be protected at all costs—” Shinichi stops suddenly when he manages to successfully lift his head and he finally sees his kidnapper: brunette—no, that’s not the right shade—locks, mostly hidden by a black cap, tied in a low ponytail, in a black bodysuit and tight-fitting black pants, with a plain tactical belt laden with pouches, boots securely tied, eyes that, though blocked by the cap, he can feel literally and figuratively looking down at him, a murderous looking smirk that chills his bones—
“Yes, yes, detective dear, I must be protected at all costs! I am the clearest, most precious, gem, the purest white pearl of the deep blue sea, the paragon of innocence! I’m just a kid after all!”
The room that had dropped several degrees in temperature returns to normal the moment Thief Kid started his boisterous entrance. Shinichi turns his head to see the familiar gaudy white outfit, cape swishing as if to emphasize his unending droll claims to virtue.
Upping the level of absurdity, Thief Kid, hands on his hips, goes on to say, “On the other hand… you! I was wondering where my persistent suitor was and I go and find him cheating with you!”
Escape Kid’s smirk had long gone from her face. Now a small amused smile has taken its place, as she says, “I knew he was your type. You would never have put up with him otherwise.”
“Hey! I missed you too, don’t be jealous now... After all," Thief Kid clears his throat, "I’m not alone, right?”
“… You..!”
“Heh, the queen has issued her decree! By her majesty’s orders, I can be injured no more!”
“… Calling you a birdbrain would insult the birds, really…”
“If her majesty would give me her hand, I would love to whisk her away from this dull and gloomy place, very unfitting of her personality as bright and sunny as—”
“Shut up. Let’s go, idiot.”
“Aye! By your leave, madame!”
Shinichi finds that he doesn’t have the words to describe what he’d just been audience to, except, maybe, a romcom skit starring a brazen flirt and an overprotective tsundere..?
Thief Kid’s voice blasts through his thoughts though, as he calls out, “Hey, I just saved you from the devil’s wrath; you owe me one, detective!’
Shinichi, having done nothing but lie down then sit in who knows how long, finds himself feeling incredibly tired already throughout the whole affair. Since he still can’t move his arms and legs, he can only reply, “I owe you. Really.”
In contrast to Shinichi’s I-might-as-well-be-lying-in-a-ditch-since-I-can’t-do-anything-like-this mood, Thief Kid is in high spirits, answering in an almost too-bright tone, “Was that your attempt at sarcasm? Anyway, yep, you do! You really wouldn’t want to know what she can and would do. See you! Someday, maybe, you can make it up to me and her royal highness. Until then, you’re in my debt!”
Shinichi feels this the most radiant he’s ever seen Thief Kid, even as he scrambles out the door, shouting after Escape Kid...
… Leaving him with a temporarily paralyzed body, bruised ego, confusion, and, if he’s being honest, keyed up anticipation over the next heist.
Except he’s not being honest, so he settles for annoyance and curses both Thief Kid and “her royal highness” under his breath.
I only warn once, your ass.
You owe me, your ass.
Meanwhile, two figures escape with the stolen scepter, unbothered and uninjured.
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Check out my 31 Days of CoAi series on AO3 for a better formatted information on my project!
Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.
AN: Heh... some I could fool with the nightmare, others I couldn't. Just as I'd hoped/expected. But on to other events now. This chapter once again got split, but I think it contains enough anyway.
This chapter's title comes from Radioactive by Imagine Dragons. I thought it fitted quite nicely.
. o O o .
Hiccup woke with a start.
With his heart hammering in his chest as if he’d just run for miles, he practically threw himself out of his nest of blankets and landed in a crouch. Instinctively, he reached for a knife he kept nearby, a habit courtesy of his years on the road, and let his eyes wander around through the dark interior of the empty stall. But he couldn’t determine what had woken him.
All he knew was that something was off.
With an uneasy feeling, he got up and looked around. The silvery moonlight pouring through the gaps in the window shutters told him it was the middle of the night, and even the horses weren’t really awake yet. Anxiously, he made a round through the stalls, and then another one outside, but he couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. Maybe it had just been another animal that had woken him, some mice, maybe, or a raven on the roof.
But none of that could explain the trepidation he felt like a tight ring around his chest.
Bewildered, he lay back down onto his makeshift bed amidst the straw bales in the spare stall and tried to go back to sleep – but found that he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried to distract himself, to calm his thoughts and his body as he’d learned to, he couldn’t sleep anymore. All he could do was stare at the dark ceiling, unable to calm his rapidly beating heart or to contain the uneasiness that churned in his guts.
Something was wrong, and he couldn’t shake off the feeling that it had something to do with Astrid. The tension seemed to radiate from that piece of her soul in his heart, tearing at him. But that realisation didn’t serve to ease his anxiety. Not at all.
What was happening to her?
Too restless to lie still, much less go back to sleep, he stepped outside into the cool night air to clear his head. Without intending to, his eyes wandered toward the castle in the distance where it stood up on the hill. Only a few of the lower windows were dimly lit with the soft glow of candles, probably from some scribes at work or some servants on early duties. There were no signs of further activity, no additional rooms lit or guards running around with torches. Nothing that would indicate something had happened up there.
Chewing his lip, Hiccup contemplated simply walking straight up to the castle to look for her. Even though nothing seemed to have happened, he still felt like something was wrong with her. And whatever it was that was causing this distress, he wanted to help make it better. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her, and to be there for her.
But he knew that it wouldn’t do him any good to approach the guards. He couldn’t simply go there and demand entry to the Princess’s chambers. At best, they would laugh at him, but getting arrested was far more likely. Either way, he definitely wouldn’t be let through to see her.
He almost went anyway. Staying away, waiting and not knowing while his heart wouldn't stop pounding… That was simply impossible.
But before he could actually do something as stupid as risking his freedom or maybe even his life, the anxiety eased to a bearable degree, and his logical mind took over again.
He couldn’t go looking for her. Every day, she reminded him that he mustn’t risk anything, and he had no intentions of doing so anyway. Being with her was too important to him. She was his own personal sun, filling his former cold and empty life with light and warmth. The mere thought of a life without her made despair claw at him, made it hard to breathe sometimes.
No, he wouldn’t do anything that posed a threat to the life awaiting them. Especially not after they’d almost gotten caught yesterday. Hiccup still wasn’t sure what to make of Eret’s rather obvious lack of reaction. He’d at least expected some comment, maybe a reprimand or a reminder to be more thoughtful around the Princess. Not that he would have needed such a reminder after his heart had dropped to his knees upon almost getting caught...
With a sigh, Hiccup rubbed his chest and forced himself to be patient. In a few hours, she and her brothers would come here as they did every day. Then, he would learn what had happened. If anything had happened...
He could wait that long.
. o O o .
Waiting was driving him insane!
Waking up early had Hiccup done with his usual morning chores in record time and left him with far too much free time to ponder. During the hours from early to late morning, his uneasiness grew constantly, and even doing some routine maintenance of the small tack room couldn’t distract him for long. Something was wrong, and he knew it. By now, it wasn’t even the intense anxiety which had woken him anymore, just a dull throbbing in the back of his mind, but no matter how hard he tried to distract himself it wouldn’t go away. And it made calming down impossible.
Waiting for Astrid and the others to arrive was bordering on torture, especially as the usual hour of their arrival came and went without any news reaching him. Instead, another jolt of anxiety hit him, and even though it was over quickly, it hit him hard and unexpectedly.
Hiccup had been in Markor’s stall, mechanically petting the gelding just to have something to do, when it had happened. His chest tightened, making his breath leave him in an audible gasp, and his heart began to race without apparent reason. Panting, he clung to Markor’s side, glad over the big horse’s presence, as he surely would have fallen without his support. The whole incident couldn’t have lasted longer than a few seconds, but to Hiccup, it felt endless as he stared unseeingly to the ground. When the sensation finally ebbed away, he straightened only slowly and, running a hand through his hair, tried to comprehend.
What had happened? Was she hurt? Sick? Injured? Should he go looking for her after all? Growling like a trapped animal, he clenched his hands into fists to keep them from trembling. So far having to hide their relationship from everyone had been bearable, nothing but a necessary nuisance. But right now, not being able to go looking for her felt oppressive. He just had to know.
Hiccup was a nervous wreck when finally the familiar voices of Daniel and Eret approached. He let out a deep and relieved sigh before hastily composing himself. Pretending to be busy in Markor’s stall, he waited eagerly for the door to open, to see her again, to get the confirmation that she was all right. She had to be all right...
But when the door opened and three figures stepped inside before it closed again, it was almost impossible for him to keep his composure. Behind Daniel and Eret, the vaguely familiar figure of Lord Dagur of House Berserker entered the stables – and no one else.
Hiccup’s face drained of all blood, and he had to hide behind the big horse for a few moments. What in Loki’s forsaken name had happened that would keep her away from the stables? Once again, his thoughts were running wild, and he barely registered the tired “Afternoon”s from Eret and Daniel.
“Good afternoon, Milords,” he replied belatedly and forced more vigour into his voice than he really felt. “And the same to you, Lord Dagur.”
The red-head with the peculiar tattoos across his left eye gave him a puzzled look before a small smile spread across his tired face. “Hi there, Hiccup. Good to see you again.” He looked tired, exhausted even. But considering that he’d spent the last few days on a ship, tacking and rowing up the Volantis River to reach the castle, that wasn’t really surprising.
Hiccup slightly bowed his head in response, but then quickly turned toward the other men, not having the patience for this conversation now. He longed to ask after Astrid, but didn’t dare to risk being too obvious. Searching for a way to inconspicuously bring up her absence, he got distracted by how down the men looked.
Eret, but Daniel especially, looked even more tired than Dagur, and that was without the excuse of a long journey. But, no, they didn’t look tired, not exclusively at least. They looked worn out, mentally as much as physically. There were gloomy expressions on their usually excitable faces, and the way they moved spoke of severe exhaustion.
Biting his lip, Hiccup pondered his options for a minute, but then settled for inconspicuously stating the obvious. “You’re late today,” he said, putting a light tone into his voice. It was something reasonable to say, wasn’t it? Something a friend could ask, right? Not something that directly hinted at what concerned him most – Astrid and her absence – but just some friendly small talk instead. That was allowed, right? Gods, he couldn’t even think straight anymore...
At first, he thought he wouldn’t get an answer, as all three men visibly tensed. It made Hiccup tense too, because, surely, whatever bothered these men couldn’t mean anything good, regardless of whether it was about their sister or not.
Eret was the first to leave their frozen state. He inhaled deeply before raising his head to meet Hiccup’s eyes, a disturbingly unsettled expression on his usually unperturbed face. “Yes. Something came up. Something–” he broke off, shaking his head as if to get rid of the memory.
“Did...did something happen?” Hiccup asked, barely able to keep calm anymore. Gods, what was it that he’d missed?
This time, it was Daniel who answered. “Yes, it did. I...” he took a deep breath and raised his head to look at Hiccup with weirdly empty eyes. “I sentenced Dagur’s squire to death. He was executed this morning.”
At first, these words served to somewhat calm Hiccup. Nothing had happened to Astrid, just someone breaking a law. But that sense of security didn’t last long.
“He wasn’t my squire,” Dagur corrected bitterly. “He should have become, but… Damn, I’m so sorry! I never should have brought him here. And just... Damn!” Angrily, he slammed his fist against the nearest wall – which happened to be Markor’s stall. Skittish as the gelding sometimes was, he made a scared step to the side – where Hiccup was standing. One hoove grazed on his left foot, and Hiccup was barely able to keep the pained groan inside.
“Oh, shit, sorry!” Dagur stepped away from the stall, hands raised in a placating gesture and guilt written all over his face. Apprehensively, he watched as Eret joined Hiccup inside the stall.
Stabilizing him with one arm, Eret laid the free hand on Markor’s flank to calm the gelding. “Are you hurt?” he asked, worried, and helped Hiccup to sit on one of the straw bales nearby.
Hiccup just slowly shook his head though. “No,” he mumbled, his strained voice giving away the lie. “He just grazed me but didn’t break anything. I’ll have a nice bruise, but that’s all. I bet I won’t even notice it anymore in a few minutes.”
Eret nodded, concerned, but before he could say something else, Dagur spoke again. “I’m so sorry, Hiccup. Gods, why am I even here? I should have stayed in Southshore, then none of this would have happened, and Astrid–”
“That wasn’t your fault,” Eret interjected firmly and Daniel nodded, grim expressions on both their faces.
Hiccup sat where Eret had left him, too stunned to move. His foot hurt, but the pain was weirdly surreal, not important. No, what really concerned him, what clouded his mind and made forming any coherent thoughts impossible was what Dagur had said.
“Astrid…”
Her name was nothing but a weak sigh on Hiccup’s lips, inaudible for any of the other men. But even if he’d been louder, he couldn’t have cared less as everything started to make sense. He wasn’t closely familiar with every rule and law in the capitol, but he at least knew of one law that could lead to a man’s immediate execution. One crime a young man could commit and directly be punished for, even though he’d only arrived at the capitol a few hours prior.
And Astrid wasn’t here.
“The Princess,” he brought forth, louder this time and more composed than he felt, but still noticeably shaken. “Is she… all right?” That was another reasonable question… wasn’t it? Daniel had accepted that he’d become her friend, after all. On tenterhooks, Hiccup waited for a confirmation, for a smile and a nod, a reassurance that she was all right, that his soulmate was unharmed.
But instead, Daniel pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head. “No, she’s not,” he proclaimed hoarsely.
Hiccup felt as if someone had pulled the rug out from under him, and was incredibly glad that he wasn’t standing.
“That boy, he... he assaulted her. And…” the Prince trailed off, clearly struggling with his words.
Hiccup could have interrupted him, could have claimed that he didn’t need details, that his friend didn’t need to explain further. But that would have been a lie. Anxiously, he waited for Daniel to continue, to hear what he had to hear.
“And this morning at the execution… She was so calm, almost composed even, until… until she just… broke down. And then she refused to leave her rooms at all again, and…” He shrugged and helplessly shook his head. “I never should have let it come this far,” he blurted out after a pause, more lively now, angry. “I should have convinced Father to let her stay in her rooms directly: I knew she didn’t want to watch. Hel, I should have stopped that boy the first time, I should have–” he broke off as Eret laid a hand on his shoulder.
“There’s nothing you could have done differently,” Eret said despondently. “Not defying your father, and not ignoring her plea. No, if anyone is to blame, then that’s me. If that slime Thuggory hadn’t pulled that stunt with the serving girl to distract us all, to distract me, Harold would never have been able to slip into that alcove, and…” He took a deep steadying breath. “But our Swanja is a fighter, remember? She’s tough, tougher than anyone I know. And she wouldn’t want us to writhe in guilt. She’ll come around, and we’ll be here to support her.”
“You don’t understand,” Daniel said quietly, empty eyes cast to the ground. “I haven’t seen her like this in months, not since… And I vowed to her that I wouldn’t let anything like that happen ever again. I swore that I would protect her.”
Hiccup just sat, unmoving, and listened. The words made little sense, but they started to paint a picture. One he didn’t like at all.
Eret and Dagur shared a troubled look. “You can’t protect her from everything,” Eret said slowly. “Besides, you weren’t the only one there. Dagur could have sent him away before already. And I shouldn’t have let the boy slip past me. If you go that road, we’re all to blame.”
But Daniel shook his head. “But she’s my sister. I’m responsible for her. How can I leave next week, when she’s–”
“Bullshit,” Dagur interrupted him sternly. “She’s all our sister, remember? We’re all responsible for her, always have been and always will be. We’ll keep our eyes on her, care for her as long as necessary. Just like we always did. Don’t you worry.”
Daniel’s gaze wandered from Dagur’s determined face to Eret’s which had a similar expression. Then he nodded, lips stretching into a weak smile. “You’re right… Thanks. Really. And I’m sorry. I know you care for her too,” he took a deep breath and then added, sighing, “Besides, I couldn’t cancel that trip anyway; Uncle Spite would impersonate Surtr if I delayed those repairs.”
Both men snorted in agreement and let the topic drop; instead, they turned their attention to the horses, clearly to distract themselves.
Still sitting on the bale, Hiccup’s eyes were glued to the ground, his hands clenching into the straw as his thought ran riot. What had happened? What in Odin’s many names had happened to her?
Cursing himself, he closed his eyes. He should have been there. By all means, he should have been at that reception, should have accompanied Eret. He could have kept an eye on her too. Whatever had happened, he should have prevented it. She was his soulmate, more important to him than his own life. He should have been with her.
. o O o .
The following hours stretched out endlessly.
Hiccup didn’t dare to ask after Astrid again, what exactly had happened, how she’d looked or what she’d said. The other men seemed happy not to talk about the incident for a while, and bringing it up would only raise suspicion. Eret’s occasional worried glances were disturbing enough.
Instead, they all focused on the horses, something calming to occupy their minds and to keep their thoughts from wandering. Or that had been the idea, assumably.
As he’d expected, Hiccup’s foot didn’t bother him much anymore a few minutes later, and after Dagur had gotten reacquainted with Squish, they all decided to go on a ride. But with Dagur not being that much of an experienced rider and Daniel riding Chomp for a change as Hiccup hadn’t gotten the chance to fix Trample’s bridle yet, it was only a slow ride, barely more than a stroll on horseback. Definitely nothing that needed his avid attention, and the fact that Hiccup was riding Markor to avoid Chomp getting territorial over Cassie didn’t help him to focus either.
Without even a minute’s break, Hiccup’s thoughts constantly circled around Astrid. What exactly had happened at the reception? How was she? Had she really been ‘calm’ at that execution, as Daniel had said? Or had she been hiding behind that mask of composure he’d seen so often during the last weeks? He knew by now that Astrid had a profound aversion against what she called ‘pointless deaths’, but would she regard the death of someone who’d attacked her as pointless? Why had she broken down?
Once they were back at the stables, Hiccup tried to force his mind to focus on his surroundings again. He was supposed to show Dagur the subtleties of tending to the Jag’r-horses, starting with Markor before they continued with Squish. But being in this stall after a ride wasn’t exactly helping his concentration, the whole setting too closely linked to Astrid to think about anything but her. More out of reflex than anything else he worked on the gelding, cooing and murmuring as he took off the bridle and saddle while Dagur stood to the side and watched.
“You weren’t kidding, eh?” Dagur asked, throwing Hiccup a funny look with one eyebrow raised. “You actually sing to these horses to calm them? I always thought Eret was joking.”
Despite his troubled mind, Hiccup’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Yes, it’s an effective way to let them distinguish between friend and enemy. Sure, they learn quickly who their rider is and not to attack him. But look at it from my perspective. I’m glad to be able to let Chomp over there know I’m just a groom and not a horse thief.”
Dagur chuckled at the dry comment, but quickly sobered up again. “But you’re not really a groom, right? I heard you made your decision.”
Hiccup looked up, startled, but of course, Dagur knew more about his situation than most others. “Yes, I did,” he confirmed, his eyes returning to Markor’s glossy hide beneath his brush. “Being a squire is the better choice. I’m not sure the simple life as one of Grand Duke Eret’s stable masters or as a craftsman somewhere else would be enough for me.”
It was a blatant lie. Hiccup would have loved to live such a simple life without any trouble or danger, just peacefully living from day to day, so long as Astrid was at his side. But that dream, initiated by the vision he’d seen all those weeks ago, would always stay a dream. All he could hope for was gaining a title for himself, distinguishing himself enough to be given a barony or maybe even a county as reward for his deeds. Chances for that were slim, he knew that. But with the Gods’ blessing, he was confident to reach this goal. Eventually…
But of course, he couldn’t exactly say so.
“We are what we are, I guess,” Dagur nodded. “But it must be weird to act all deferential when in public. I don’t think I could do that convincingly.”
At that, Daniel’s low chuckling was audible from where he brushed down Chomp, and a moment later, Eret’s amused voice sounded toward them. “I have no doubts that it would be difficult for you to act deferential, Dagur,” he snorted. “But believe me, that’s not true for everyone. I only wish he’d just act that way in public. Or just act at all.”
Hiccup could practically feel Dagur’s puzzled look on his back. “But you’re still–”
“I’m Sir Eret’s squire,” Hiccup interrupted him, sternly continuing with his work. “That is who I am now. Pretending to be anything else would be foolish.”
“I see,” Dagur said after a short and weighty pause. “But don’t you dare to go all Sir on me after my accolade. It will be weird enough when others do so on formal occasions, I don’t need that in my free time, too. I’ve heard you fit in here quite nicely, let’s keep it that way.”
Hiccup, suppressing a humorous smirk, turned toward Dagur and bowed deeply. “As you wish, Milord.”
Dagur groaned exasperatedly, followed by Daniel’s and Eret’s rough laughter, and for a short moment, everyone’s mood lightened.
“But tell me,” Dagur went on a minute later. “If you’re so devoted to your new position, why weren’t you at the reception last night? Shouldn’t you ‘support your master’, or something? I had a nice talk with some of the local counts around here who commented about how Eret regularly not bringing his squire is seen as a disgrace.”
Hiccup, who’d returned to work on Markor, paused in his movement and dug his head. He’d known that staying away from social events could harm Eret’s standing… But hearing it said like this made it worse, even though neither of the other men seemed to care all that much.
“And what were they saying about me?” Daniel snorted, sounding more bored than irked. “I mean, obviously, I’m not bringing my squire either. Am I a disgrace too? An embarrassment to all those of noble blood? I wonder if they see the irony, as none of their families were noble before two generations ago...”
“Actually, they were quick to excuse Mike’s absence–”
“Milburn,” came Daniel’s automatic interjection.
“–as he’s still in Westhill. Because, of course, they would never dare to insult their Prince. Eret though? They know his squire is within reach. They’ve seen him regularly, only not to any official events. Although, to be honest I doubt they really mind his absence. I mean, we know these people would never leave out a chance to discredit someone they see as an obstacle on their way to power.” Hiccup wasn’t sure what Dagur meant by that, but didn’t get the chance to even think about it as the redhead continued without a pause, now talking to him again. “But that leads back to my question. Knowing you lot I’m sure there is a reason. So… yeah… why weren’t you there?”
“Because we all agreed that it would be better that way,” came suddenly Eret’s calm voice from the stall’s gate, answering in Hiccup’s place. “It might not be likely, but it’s always possible that someone might recognise him, which would do none of us any favours right now. Besides, you know damn well that I don’t give a shit on what those highborn noblemen think of me. Am I a disgrace for not regularly sending my servants on unnecessary errands? Maybe. But if that’s customary then I enjoy being eccentric.”
Hiccup gave his cousin a tight smile, but then turned back toward the horse again, effectively hiding his face as worries clouded his mind. Was his reluctance to accompany Eret on those social events causing him trouble? Hiccup didn’t want to attend to those meetings. Not necessarily because he feared getting recognised, but he always felt like that wasn’t his place anymore. But maybe he should change his habit on this point. Causing Eret trouble just to avoid being around noblemen was selfish, and it surely didn’t help to distinguish himself either.
There was another reason to stay away, however, a more personal one. Acting deferential, as Dagur had called it, was incredibly hard when it was Astrid he was interacting with. Every part of him yearned to always make her smile or laugh, to make her happy. But doing so while playing his role as hardly more than a servant was nigh on impossible, and showing how he was more than that always risked raising dangerous questions. So they’d both tried to avoid meeting in public.
But what if... What if he’d been at that reception last night? Could he have prevented whatever it had been that had happened? He wouldn’t have let Astrid out of his sight at any rate, maybe he even could have interfered, could have kept her safe. At the very least, he would know what had happened. Still being ignorant was constantly nagging at him, and the friendly small talk just now, distracting as it had been, hadn’t been enough to keep his thoughts from circling around her for long.
What had happened? How was she? The same questions kept circling in his mind over and over, and they were driving him insane. He needed answers but knew he couldn’t simply ask for them. No, if he wanted answers then he would need to find them himself. He had to find her! But how? How could he excuse seeing her, looking for her, when she wouldn’t come here? He couldn’t even go up to the castle without raising suspicions, for Odin’s sake.
Or maybe, he could. Maybe, today was just the right day to provide him with a suitable excuse.
Glancing at the angle of the sunlight pouring in through one of the windows, he affected a frown. “Don’t you need to go back soon?” he asked, puzzled by how relaxed and unhurried the men seemed to be. “It’s getting late, and don’t you need to prepare for someone’s accolade?” Dagur’s accolade was the perfect excuse. It was an important enough event that suddenly accompanying Eret after all wouldn’t raise any suspicions… right? But apparently, luck wasn’t on his side today.
“Ah, no, we don’t,” Eret said, just as Dagur gave a theatrical sigh.
“My big day – ruined because some idiots insisted on being idiots,” he whined, and leaned back against the wooden wall, sulking. At first it almost seemed funny, but there was more to his demeanour than exaggeration and humour. There as a bitterness in his voice, and Hiccup remembered how the Berserker heir was prone to overact to hide his real emotions.
“So… the accolade was cancelled?” Hiccup asked hesitantly, curious despite himself. There wasn’t much the heir to a grand dukedom could do to be denied the honour of being knighted – and he was fairly sure that Dagur had done none of that.
“No, not cancelled; just pushed back a few days,” Daniel explained, having joined Eret in the open gate to the stall. He was rubbing his temple, expression grim, and Hiccup realised his question had brought back the darker mood from before.
“Holding Dagur’s accolade on the same day as his squire’s execution seemed like a bad idea already,” Eret explained, eyes cast into the distance. “But then the boy’s father acted up, and…”
“And now, we have to hold a trial to determine whether Count Ravenledge is a traitor to the Crown,” Daniel continued through clenched teeth. “Executing a rapist is no fun, but it’s a… a simple trial. His traditional upbringing in combination with arrogance and utter stupidity led to his death, and there was no doubt about his guilt – especially after he admitted to Fyrir Gothi to have gone after other girls in his county already. The trial for his father will be much more difficult.”
“You think? I mean he attacked Dagur, and there were plenty of people around who witnessed it all. Dagur has it even memorised by now, right...?” Eret said leadingly.
Pushing himself off the wall again, Dagur nodded. “Right. He came running toward me as they led Harold up the dais, shouting how I had to do something, because the boy was ‘supposed to become my squire’,” he snorted, and threw his arms up in exasperation – and came without resistance as Eret pulled him out of the stall, away from the skittish horse. “And when I explained to him that his son had actively tried to commit high treason and that he should be glad not to be going to the Tree as well, he just yelled at me. Told me that the boy was his son. As if that excused everything. I didn’t even get to mention the former rapes he confessed during the night. I mean, those alone would have been enough to punish him. If only–” he broke off, averting his face, and Hiccup noticed how his hands were balled into angry fists again.
“Hey, you didn’t know,” Daniel said in a voice that held too many emotions at once... but he also seemed to be hiding something else.
Eret, who still had his hand on his friend’s shoulder, squeezed him reassuringly. “You said it yourself, choosing him to become your squire was purely a political decision. You couldn’t know those rumours were true.”
Angrily, Dagur shook his head. “They sounded so much like the lies people tell everywhere about their rivals to discredit them. And the timing was just too perfect, right before Father and I made the final decision. As if someone purposefully wanted to bring me up against him. So I didn’t believe… But I should have. I should have known!”
Hiccup stood still, not moving as he listened. Rape. So this man, this Harold had actually tried to rape Astrid. Swallowing, he stared right through his hands into nothing. If only I’d been there!, he numbly thought for the umpteenth time. If I’d been there I could have prevented this.
“And what else happened?” Eret asked after a minute of silence, clearly trying to distract them all from their depressed mood.
Dagur snorted. “He told me that I wouldn’t want to have him as an enemy just because of a bagatelle like this. A bagatelle! As if Astrid…” Dagur gritted his teeth and visibly fought to calm down. After taking several deep breaths, he continued. “I couldn’t resist to tell him the same words Father used. That, if he’s determined to act like one of the enemy then I’d treat him like one, too. I thought hearing those words would let him see just how... idiotic he behaved. Or that’s what I think I thought… But that idiot actually asked whether that was meant as a threat – as if he didn’t know damn well what happened after Father said them the first time. And then he yelled something… something about how he should have listened to His Grace – and then he attacked me. He actually drew his sword, right there in the middle of the plaza, only a few steps away from his King and Princess. I’m still not sure whether that was arrogance, stupidity, or simply a death wish.”
“And that’s where our problems begin,” Daniel commented, rubbing his temples. “If it was only grief for his son that clouded his mind then his action might be excused. But...” he hesitated, “his son confessed to other things.”
“What else?” Dagur asked, and overacting or not, Hiccup could tell that this was news to him.
Daniel shook his head. “I was originally planning on running a full investigation and then arresting him when we had ironclad proof... but now...”
Dagur scowled. “I seem to be messing up everything la–”
“Stop right there!” Eret’s voice came like a whipcrack, and they all looked at him. He was scowling at Dagur. “No, you don’t get to blame yourself for what he did. They have their own will, and their own minds, and you didn’t push them into doing anything. I get that you’re feeling guilty over what happened, but it wasn’t your fault!”
The pair of them locked gazes for a moment, Eret’s expression set... and after a few heartbeats, Dagur looked away.
“You’re right. I...”
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Eret scolded.
Dagur pursed his lips and then burst out in bitter laughter after a moment. “That’s unfair!”
“No, what’s unfair is you grabbing more blame than you’ve earned,” Daniel said pointedly. “We all bear some culpability – for falling for Thuggory’s distraction, if nothing else – but trying to take more than that takes guilt away from the guilty men.”
“Aye, Sire,” Dagur said, mock-petulantly.
Daniel glanced at Hiccup and rolled his eyes. “Now don’t you start. That’s Hiccup’s gimmick, and you don’t get to take that either.”
The joke, weak as it was, broke the tension, and they chuckled.
“So... what happens now?” Hiccup asked carefully.
Daniel sighed, his smile evaporating. “We have a trial for the Count scheduled for later this evening. Between what his son confessed to and his actions this morning... he’ll be going to the noose.”
“And we had to drag him,” – he nodded toward Daniel – ”away from trying to oversee every detail of the preparations,” Eret said tightly.
Daniel clenched and released his hands. “But it has to be done right!”
“So trust the men that you gave the jobs to!” Eret fired back. “You hovering in the background like some stern dragon waiting to roast someone wasn’t going to help any!” He glanced up at Hiccup. “And that’s why we were late.”
Daniel sighed and his shoulders slumped. “And you were right to do so. I wouldn’t have been any good for the trial tonight if you hadn’t forced me here.” His shoulders tensed again. “And I have questions I want answers to.”
“‘Should have listened to His Grace’,” Dagur said darkly.
“Exactly. Was the attack on Astrid spontaneous, as Harold insisted it was? Or was he set upon her by some malefactor who saw an opening to undermine the Crown, perhaps through his father? Or something else?” Daniel slammed a fist into his other palm. “I want to know – but before I can have the Count questioned, he needs to no longer be a count. And that’s the purpose of the trial.”
“That’s one Hel of a stick...” Eret said carefully. “What’s the carrot? Since he’s going to the noose anyway?”
“If he cooperates, his eldest son Angus will inherit his title. Otherwise, he’ll remain as a knight, though downgraded to a lower rank, and the title will revert to the Crown, to be bestowed on someone else more worthy of it.” Hiccup barely kept himself from snapping his head up as Daniel scoffed and continued, “Gods know that we have enough loyal and decent men who have proven themselves to be honourable and whose home fiefs were stolen out from under them!”
Hiccup’s heart was pounding in his ears and throat as Daniel calmed and continued. “But there’s also the fact that a public trial will help restore confidence in the Crown.”
Eret scowled. “Aye. I was hearing murmurs that you were too hasty, that Harold was a ‘victim of circumstance’.” His expression roiled with anger. “Most of them didn’t see what had happened, didn’t see her. They just know that he was executed this morning after having arrived last night and his father is seen as a grieving victim whose largest holding was burned less than a month ago.”
Daniel inhaled deeply and then let it out slowly. “Yes, he has his pity-supporters, for now. But he won’t by tomorrow.”
“So, what’s the plan? What can we do to help?” Dagur asked.
After that, Daniel and the others laid out a plan for the trial later, but Hiccup had no desire to engage in that conversation. Their voices were tense, the whole topic surely important, but the way they discussed telling everybody what had happened to Astrid, maybe even letting her testify herself to underline the severity of Harold’s crime, was too sober for Hiccup to bear right now. Instead, he limped over to Squish’s stall, fighting to ignore the pain – in his foot and in his twinging leg alike – and methodically began working on the stallion; humming and cooing to calm the beast, taking off bridle and saddle, brushing out the yellowish fur – everything to keep himself from going crazy. He understood why the trial was important and respected Daniel, the future King, for being level-headed enough, for concentrating on the outcome. But he himself couldn’t do that.
All he could think about was Astrid. Absentmindedly, he stared out of the open front gate of the stables, at the dusty place outside lit by the pale sunlight. Oh, how he wished she would suddenly appear in the door, framed by a halo of light in her golden hair. She would smile that beautiful smile of hers, make some funny remark about how he worried too much. She would give him one of her playful punches to chase away his troubled thoughts, and reassure him that she was okay. But of course, that wouldn’t happen.
Sighing, he rubbed that spot on his chest, feeling oddly closer to her by doing so. Eret might be right, she was strong and surely would be back up eventually. But that didn’t change the fact that she’d broken down earlier. That she’d locked herself in her rooms. That she hadn’t even come here.
No, she wasn’t okay.
And all he wanted was to be there for her.
Letting out a heavy breath, he concentrated on that divine connection between them, hoping to get any sense of how she felt. But that wasn’t how it worked; he still had no idea what these weird jolts of something he’d felt earlier had been. All he knew was that he missed her terribly, and the prospect of not seeing her today at all was almost too much to bear.
“Hey, you all right?”
Hiccup looked up as Eret’s words brought him back to the now. His cousin looked curious and concerned, eyes on where his hand still rested over his heart.
No, I’m not ‘all right’, a part of him wanted to scream. How could he be all right when the other half of his soul so obviously wasn’t? When she was alone, and he couldn’t be with her, and… and...
But maybe he could. He just had to try. Letting his hand linger to draw courage, he made a snap decision.
“Sure. I just…” he paused, nervously licking his lips, and then added, “I was just thinking. If you want to build a strong front against this Count Ravenledge you’ll need every bit of support you can get, right?” Eret nodded, so he went on, “Then I’ll come with you to this trial.”
. o O o .
Okay, so I hope this answered the question regarding Hiccup and what he was doing... And I also hope Daniel could be redeemed, as he didn't get away well in the interlude...
tagged by the notoriously awesome @ff-sunset-oasis
Rules: Answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions.
1. coke or pepsi: Diet Coke
2. disney or dreamworks: *whispers* neither? dreamworks?
3. coffee or tea: Coffee
4. books or movies: Both. I am a writer with a film degree. i love both.
5. windows or mac: i normally use both but Mac is my everyday preferance.
6. dc or marvel: Vertigo therefore DC
7. x-box or playstation: don’t have either −pc gaming all the way. but if i’d buy one i’d buy playstation.
8. dragon age or mass effect: would likely play dragon age rather than mass effect
9. night owl or early riser: Night owl
10. cards or chess: cards.
11. chocolate or vanilla: chocolate
12. vans or converse: Converse
13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash, or Adaar: bless you
14. fluff or angst: idk. angst? both?
15. beach or forest: forest
16. dogs or cats: mother of both
17. clear skies or rain: Clear skies
18. cooking or eating out: Cooking. or take away.
19. spicy food or mild food: spicy rather than mild.
20. halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: yule
21. would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: A little too hot.
22. if you could have a superpower, what would it be: teleporting
23. animation or live action: Live action
24. paragon or renegade: i don’t know the context but renegade by default unless they suck.
25. baths or showers: Showers.
26. team cap or team ironman: i dont care.
27. fantasy or sci-fi: fantasy
28. do you have three or four favourite quotes, if so what are they:
“People who deny the existence of dragons are often eaten by dragons. From within.” Ursula Le Guin
“Fairy tales do not give the child his first idea of bogey. What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of bogey.” G.K. Chesterton
“Never tickle a sleeping dragon.” J.K. Rowling
29. youtube or netflix: netflix.
30. harry potter or percy jackson: Harry Potter
31. when you feel accomplished: i dance
32. star wars or star trek: not a fan enough of both but when i was a kid i loved star trek so...
33. paperback books or hardback books: Paperback to read and hardback to caress. yes. i caress books. leave me alone.
34. horror or rom-com: horror over rom−com
35. tv shows or movies: Movies
36. favorite animal: all
37. favorite genre of music: i don’t know. i just love music.
38. least favorite book: i don’t read stuff i don’t like but probably some shit from overrated Orhan Pamuk −they gave him a friggin nobel prize wtf−
39. favourite season: late spring, early summer
40. song that’s currently stuck in your head: Enjoy the Silence by Depeche Mode but becoz my shuffle decided I should listen it.
41. what kind of pyjama’s do you wear: tights and old t−shirts or jumpers, or when it’s summer just the thinnest possible material ever.
42. How many existential crises do you have on an average day: one too many.
43. If you can only choose one song to be played at your funeral, what would it be: idk. something dirty and funky. i hope people will throw a hge party, have crazy fun and have horrible hangovers next day and realise their underwear is missing.
44. Favourite theme song to a TV show: hm. i could say doctor who. but honestly i get bored of listening to the same theme very quickly.
45. Harry Potter movies or books: Books
46. Favorite traditional food from your family: my all family members cook things differently. i am famous with my crazy good pastas and casseroles.
47. Favorite decade from 1900-now: 20s look good but i’d probably murder someone if i’d live then. i might agree with @ff-sunset-oasis and say 90s.
My question: 48. Worst habit? staying too long in bad situations.
