sirenspull_logs | Soup Soup

Entry tags:

Soup Soup

Who: Hiccup & ~Astrid~
When: April 2nd.
Where: Snow White's apartment.
Summary: Astrid and Hiccup have not only lost their jobs, but Astrid's managed to put metal in the microwave. Yup.
Warnings: Vikings, microwaves and soup.

Calling it a disaster was a slight understatement. Sure, it hadn't been the end of the world, but it probably was the end of the microwave and the bowl of soup she'd attempted to warm was now broken to bits and smeared across the floor. Astrid was, understandably, upset. New technology was only continuing to prove to be increasingly harder to use and use properly, without the attempts blowing up in her face.

It wasn't so much herself that she felt bad for. No, feeling sorry for herself wasn't something Astrid indulged in often. What she did dread however was Snow's reaction to all of this. If she hadn't been so stubborn and had just hadn't touched the darn thing like Hiccup had so lovingly cautioned her about with his stupid notes around the kitchen, this wouldn't have ever happened.

Unfortunately, it had, and so now she had to deal with it.

Cursing to herself Astrid had grabbed the dish cloth from the sink, getting down on her hands and knees to clean up the mess she'd made. Fingers carefully began to pluck shards of ceramic bowl off of soup coated tiles, their edges sharp. One managed to nick her finger, causing it to bleed a bit, but she ignored it. There were bigger things to worry about than simple, little cuts. Hopefully, if she were lucky, she'd be able to wipe away the soup off the floor quickly and without any more mishaps.

The day couldn't possibly get any worse.

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Astrid did have a pretty good idea of how it went. The boss, as Hiccup had said, was the boss. He was just as stubborn as any Viking could be. There was no doubt in his mind that the establishment would be rebuilt, and Astrid didn't have any doubts either. After all, how many times had she helped rebuild her village after it had managed to be burnt to the ground? So many times she'd lost count.

"I told boss I'd help him rebuild it. It'll be just like what we used to do back home. I hope it won't take too long, but I've been asking around for jobs. A few people seem to be willing to help us out at least."

The bubbling sound from the soup caught her attention for a moment. It was starting to smell really good.

"Don't use cheese." It was a bit of a warning. Cheese was expensive and delicious. "Just...use a little bit of bread. That way if it doesn't make you explode when you heat it up, we can eat it with the soup!"

Logical reasoning, right?

"You got some contacts for other jobs too?" Hiccup asked. "Because I at least got one. Sephiroth said he'd even try asking more people just in case." Another stir and a tap on the edge of the pot led him to cross his arms over in thought. "You know, for Newcomers– the people like us? From different worlds? Most of them are really helpful." That whole camaraderie thing, the community and how it needed to thrive in a new venue. Or destroy. Either one was hit or miss.

To which he added, "Oh, and I forgot to get the bowls out. They're in that cabinet behind you."

As the knob was turned into it's 'off' position, he nodded. "Okay, I won't use cheese! Just the bread. It should be fine! Honest."

"Yeah, I did. One person said I could work as a guard and he might even enchant my axe for me. He said you could probably work there too. There was another person too, Cloud, who told me to talk to his friend about jobs for the two of us. You're right though, for the most part everyone is pretty nice. It's kind of weird."

Or not, considering they were all stuck in the same boat.

Glancing over at the cabinet Astrid opened the door, taking out two bowls and setting them down on the small wooden table in the kitchen. Two spoons were also taken from the utensil drawer and set down beside the bowls. There. That seemed acceptable.

"Good, because I really don't want to see bread explode."

He was wondering why Astrid would need an enchanted axe when she was already deadly with it being normal. Then again, it was better not to ask.

"Definitely beats waiting around all day," he agreed, grabbing hold of the pot's handle with one hand while the other helped push the soup into each bowl. "I'd look into everything they've been suggesting, sure."

Once that was done, he walked the empty pot over to the sink, leaving it there before getting some bread. He couldn't help but laugh a little at the thought of bread exploding – it was something that shouldn't be attempted, either.

Another plate was obtained as two rolls were placed side by side, all dainty-like. He then put that plate inside the microwave, shutting the door with a clunk. "...Ahh. I forget how long you're suppose to leave them in..."

"Great. I think that's a good plan too. Better to look into every option than overlook something, right?"

She fell silent then as Hiccup poured the soup into the bowls. It smelled really good. Really good. He hadn't even burnt the bottom of it. It made her feel a little incapable, but that'd be righted with practice. Soon enough she'd cook an amazing meal someday and Snow and Hiccup would both enjoy it.

It'd be better than her Yaknog, barring the gods smiled down on her that day.

"You forgot how long?" It wasn't berating, no, even though her voice sounded slightly gruff. "Well...not for too long. Maybe for as long as it'd take for you to count to 20? Or would that be too long?"

Even a second inside that machine seemed like too long now.

The flinch was inevitable, but he gave her a brief glance as he pushed a few buttons. "Nno, I think that should do." She was hungry. Letting her wait wouldn't go over very well.

He just found himself pushing the buttons several times before they make that beeping sound. A flat look stayed on his face as he pushed 'start,' mulling over the functions as the bread began to be reheated.

Astrid was hungry, which only added to her anticipation for the bread to actually heat up and not explode in Hiccup's face (which she still currently believed was entirely possible). Of course, she could have gone with starting on her soup before Hiccup had a chance to sit down too, but she had a bit more manners than that. Besides, it just wouldn't be fair.

Anxious, she continued to watch the microwave heat up the bread as numbers she still had trouble remembering flashed, counting down. So far, so good.

"Apparently metal makes it spark because it runs on electricity." She managed to say, flicking her eyes up to stare at Hiccup's bland expression. "The electricity just goes through it. Kind of creepy, if you think about it."

"...If metal can conduct heat, it can conduct electricity..." This was said in response to Astrid's findings as he watched the countdown, clearly a preoccupied and outspoken linking between these things. "Lightning is a form of electricity. Electricity is contained, controlled. Electricity can also produce fire– heat. Metal's just there to help it along..."

Before he could go any further with that, there's a telltale trill. The microwave shut itself off right then, making Hiccup jump to open the door and take out the plate.

He did this rather quickly, placing it clumsily on the counter. "Ow! Hot!"

The more Hiccup spoke the stupider Astrid began to feel. Everything he was saying were logical conclusions, but they were ones she hadn't been able to come to herself. Stupid. She tore her eyes away from the skinny Viking hovering over the microwave to stare at her soup instead. It smelled great. She was hungry.

Hungry and stupid.

When the microwave beeped she instinctively whipped her head in its direction, bracing herself for the worst. But...things seemed fine. No exploding bread. No fires. All there was was Hiccup burning his fingers on the hot plate as she watched him set it down on the counter.

"Of course it's hot. What were you expecting?"

Fingers were still being waved out as he squinted. Hiccup didn't mean to prattle on like that; he wasn't even fully aware that he was doing it. "Oh, you know, cold icy lumps that could either melt or be broken apart with a hammer," was his immediate response, practically dripping with sarcasm.

He didn't mean to. It was out of habit.

As he sat himself down, he softened again, looking a little apologetic. They could eat now. "...And at least we know it still works."

"Well that's a relief..." And that's all that counted. That the stupid machine still worked. Picking up her spoon, Astrid took some soup onto it, blowing carefully before sticking it in her mouth.

It definitely had been worth the wait.

More of the soup then made its way into her mouth before she grabbed a piece of bread silently, dipping it into her soup bowl. It tasted fine too. Everything tasted really good, probably better than it usually would've, simply because of how hungry she was.

"How's your soup?" It was a quiet question as Astrid kept her eyes on hers. "Mine tastes great."

Yes. Things were good when they still functioned. Trying to get another microwave later on wasn't a bad idea, however. It was something Hiccup would keep in mind whenever he did scrape up enough cash for that.

He tried a spoonful, smacking his lips lightly, thoughtfully. He then lifted his brow. "It's good."

"Good."

It came out muttered as she turned back to her soup, eating silently for the time being, one spoonful after another. Another bit of bread was dipped in before she took a bite of it.

An awkward silence hung over the two of them as they ate. There just wasn't anything for her to ask at the moment, nor was she in the mood for prompting Hiccup to answer questions or talk to her without stumbling over himself. Sure, they talked about things (somewhat) but it was usually Astrid doing the talking and then Hiccup rambling off. It'd be nice if, for once, he'd ask her a question. Of course she wasn't expecting him too - Hiccup was still probably scared she'd punch him in the face if he dared to. Stupid Hiccup. Stupid microwave. Stupid 'normal' modern clothes. Stupid city. Stupid everything.

But mostly stupid Hiccup.

Her bowl of soup was half full then as she continued to glare daggers at it, willing it to boil with her mind. Nothing happened of course. She didn't expect anything to happen. Fingers brushed her bangs out of her face, exposing blue eyes. After everything that had happened back on Berk, both Hiccup and her had been able to open up somewhat to one another. He'd listen to her and she'd listen to him. Actually listen. Here, even though she'd kissed him, Hiccup still seemed skittish and uncertain, tiptoeing around on a bed of dragon eggs.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.

Astrid wanted her mother's cooking. She wanted her bed back home, even if it didn't have a mattress. She wanted to go flying with Stormfly and see her babies. She wanted to hold Hiccup's hand without giving him a heart attack or kiss him without him thinking she'd punch him the next second. Astrid had liked it when things had been simple and small. This city and era was anything but small and needlessly complicated.

In one word? Things sucked.

There was soup. And bread. A simple yet satisfying lunch for the Viking pair.

But there was that feeling that hung in the air, tense and unwavering.

The boy knew how Astrid was. She wasn't a subtle person – her actions usually spoke just as loud as her words. She meant business. She was a force to be reckoned with. In any of those moments between them, he could have been bruised all over with every punch she could have given. But that didn't happen. She had shown him another side, one he rarely saw back at home. One he wasn't use to seeing. Although it was nice, he knew her prominent Viking-proud personality would still be going strong. That was normal.

But it wasn't too hard to notice that something was wrong, and that was exactly what Hiccup did. Green eyes glanced up at the girl mid-sip, seeing the sharpness and intensity behind her blue glaring down at the bowl of soup that did nothing more than feed her. Aggression and frustration were dominant, a dangerous combination if there was an attempt made to quell these feelings.

He was a Viking. Sometimes it was necessary to take a risk. Even if it was a verbal one.

The spoon was set aside as he cautiously placed both hands flat upon the counter top, keeping his gaze on her as he studied her features once more. "...Astrid?" He paused, letting the roll of bread sink into his soup. "Stupid question, I know, but...are you doing okay?"

At the sound of her name there was an involuntary flinch, her metal spoon clinking off the edge of her bowl with a soft sound. The question reached her ears but there was a moment of delay before she could process it enough to respond.

"...Huh?"

Had she really been glaring at her soup that intensely? She must've if Hiccup had asked her if she was alright. Wide blue eyes blinked up at him, stunned for a second before she rolled her shoulders into a shrug, voice strained.

"Oh yeah - yeah. Yeah I'm fine. Just wonderful, don't you worry."

It sounded forced and she knew it. If there was one thing Astrid was absolutely terrible at, it was hiding her emotions. She huffed at her bangs but it did little to push them out of her eyes.

No, she wasn't doing okay. She wasn't. Not at the moment. Earlier? Maybe. Would she be fine later? Of course. But right now? Not so much. She set her spoon back into the bowl then, letting go of it entirely as her hands fell to her sides. Teeth chewed on her bottom lip before she looked away.

"...It's not a stupid question. I'm not."

Hiccup waited.

He waited just like how she waited for him to do speak and respond to the things that had been imparted, that flood of information he needed to know and how he reacted to how radically different it was from what he already knew. And for such a simple question, he saw the strain and struggle she went through in the seconds that passed, forced happiness and sarcasm fading out near the end of it.

But he still waited.

When she admitted the truth, the boy let it settle there for a moment. He then pushed away from the counter, hesitant as he reached out to take one of her hands.

He looked away, then back at her. And, after another moment, he slowly, somewhat awkwardly, pulled her closer to him, giving her a sidewise hug.

Astrid wasn't expecting it. When she felt fingers curl around her own, there was a moment of disbelief, the feeling only furthered when she was pulled into an awkward, sideways hug. She stayed there, still and frozen in place, not wanting to move for fear that Hiccup would break away.

Thoughts didn't drive her actions then, only feelings did as she turned in his embrace to make it a proper, full frontal hug, pressing the two of them together as Astrid clung to skinny shoulders. It was silly. It was even somewhat embarrassing. But then again, what was embarrassing about seeking comfort from another? Especially someone you liked? There was no shame in that, even for a Viking.

Just because they were a hardy people didn't mean they lacked feeling or the same emotional needs as others. If anything, those needs were intensified.

Tucking her chin into the crook of his neck, Astrid simply held the embrace. Hiccup wouldn't know it, but it meant a lot. The fact he'd overcome his shyness to do such a thing - it meant everything right then and there.

There was no intention of breaking off the hug. He let her do this, letting his own body relax after initiating the action. His face felt hot, but he held onto her, looking down at nothing in particular.

He did feel like it was mostly his fault for not meeting her expectations. Due to the Core's nature, it wasn't entirely his fault. Still, he had some sort of responsibility and status to live up to, and the least he could do right now was be there to help in any way possible.

Lips parts slightly as if to speak, but press together again, forming a weak line.

She was still slightly taller than him. Not by much, but there was still a difference. Enough of a difference that she didn't have to stand on her tiptoes to push her face into his shoulder, instead of simply her chin. She wouldn't tell him how glad she was that he hadn't let go, but the fact she was still clinging just as strongly would probably be enough of a giveaway.

It wasn't Hiccup's fault that he didn't measure up to what she'd come to know him as. In fact, thinking of it that way was completely wrong. Hiccup was still Hiccup and she still liked him just as much; he just hadn't had his chance to shine yet. It was still all there in that thin chest of his, locked up and away, buried underneath layers of insecurity. She just needed to dig at it to have him show his true colors, or well, the palette he kept hidden away.

Weakness. She was showing it again. But it was okay, she argued with herself. It was just Hiccup. She could feel the leather of her circlet press into her forehead against Hiccup's bony shoulder, but she didn't mind.

Lips parted then as she kept her face against him, fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt. "I think I know how you've been feeling." She said after a moment, choosing her words carefully, even if her voice was barely above a mutter. "Back home. On Berk. Before you proved yourself to everyone and me. That feeling of always messing up or people looking at you weird."

It wasn't that Astrid had never been above making mistakes. She did, often. But they usually weren't big ones (except for the time she'd planted dragon eggs in everyone's houses and they exploded without ceremony) and usually someone else would mess up worse than her. Here however, in this era, she was constantly making mistakes and making a mess of things. The only thing she'd been able to do right was perform at Nibbleheim, which was something that would be put on hold until the place was rebuilt. Feeling like a failure, like an idiot, no matter how hard she'd been trying, it left a terrible taste in her mouth.

"I think I know how that feels now. It's pretty awful."

Having her feel the same way he did was...great. To a certain degree. A terrible way of putting it, to be honest, but that perspective mattered. It put them on a level playing field, being far from home and the expectations of their people, their culture. Here, despite what they already knew, one was no better than the other. They both had to go through the daily struggles the city brought about, facing the same problems half of the other Newcomers put up with.

And that was fine. That meant that Hiccup was better at adapting into these circumstances than she was. He had the upper hand. Just this once.

...But it was also heartbreaking.

"Isn't it?"

He wasn't the type to hold a grudge. He could say whatever was on his mind, anything that could ruin their relationship if he was the type to shoot her down even further. But he didn't. It wasn't him. And he was thankfully not the kind of kid who would think of doing that to someone who needed support. Stooping that low would make him feel worse.

"It's...well. I can't really say it's okay." His usual commentary was derisive, but it toned itself down at this point. "But. Yeah. That's that. Can't really change this until later on, like you said." Gently, he pulled away from her, each hand settling on either arm as he looked at her with a slight smile. "But I'll do whatever I can to help you out here."

Hiccup had a lovely smile. Really, it was. Sure, it was a bit dorky in certain aspects, but there was a real soft sincerity to it that Astrid couldn't say she ever truly saw very often on people's faces. Usually the smiles she witnessed were great big grins full of terrible teeth or sneers from their mutual Viking peers back on Berk. There were hearty smiles filled with laughter brought on by the comfort of ale or the glory of battle. When it came to Vikings, smiles usually weren't soft things, regardless of how real they were.

Leave it to Hiccup to smile so sincerely that it made her chest tight.

Sympathy was one thing. Empathy was another - something Vikings usually were rather terrible with. Not even she herself was very good at it, even though she tried. There was a moment of silence in which Astrid tore her blue eyed gaze away from Hiccup's green eyes, but only for a moment. Soon enough she was back to staring at that smile, listening to each word and savouring it.

All she could do was nod in response to that smile and those words, the corners of her lips tugging themselves upward ever so slightly. He was good at getting her to smile, even if he didn't know it.

"Thank you, Hiccup. Really. I mean it"

There. It was nice to see her smile. It brightened her features. It made her less menacing. He felt more at ease when he saw the change in her demeanor and her thoughts, going from that degree of angry depression to something lighter. Comforted. A little more hopeful.

Out of habit, Hiccup looked down and shrugged. "Glad I can help."

He knew they were going to have to go through things together. They shared the same feelings every other new person would go through, one that they would constantly be reminded of during their prolonged stay. But thankfully Hiccup wasn't too aware of the extent of that thought. Not yet.

"You're very helpful." Just a little bit of praise, in the hopes that it'd stick with him this time. Astrid's bowl of half eaten soup was forgotten then, in the meantime, as she counted the freckles on Hiccup's cheeks, quickly losing track before turning her eyes onto his.

"Hey, I've been thinking." And she had - Astrid did a surprising amount of thinking compared to most Vikings, although she was certain that Hiccup had her beat in that department. It was a topic change, but one needed to get her mind off of more recent things. "We really ought to find a calendar, one of our calendars, so we can go about the days a bit better. You know, so we don't miss any important celebrations. It's a bit disorienting not knowing which month we're in. Well, I know it's April, but that means nothing to me."

If there was one thing Astrid would never sacrifice, it would be her culture, especially amongst this fast paced city. If she had to wear clothes that others wore to fit in and get a job, fine. She'd do so. If she had to eat their food she wouldn't complain. But she was a Viking - traditions, myths and beliefs - they all shaped her into the warrior and person she was today. There was no way she could live without keeping those ideologies at the forefront of her mind. Stubborn? Yes. But that's what Vikings were.

"Apparently there's a place called a museum and there's Viking stuff there. At least that's what a girl told me. She thought I was from the museum. What do you think?"

As strange as it felt hearing that, it was still very reassuring. Astrid was always blatantly honest; it was a defining characteristic. That, hopefully, wouldn't change.

He caught most of what she was talking about, noting the change in subject as he tried to play off his earlier distraction with the girl's glances. "Calendar. Right," he coughed, eyes darting the other way. He almost forgot about that, and converting their calendar dates to the city's was tricky.

At the word 'museum,' he perked with interest. "Really?" That could have gone for both the place and the mistake someone made. He nodded after a moment. "I mean– it wouldn't hurt to try, right? If it has stuff we can work with, that would be great."

"Exactly. If there's any place in the city that we can find a calendar and maybe even other things we're familiar with, I think the museum is the best bet. Surely there has to be someone there that would know what we're talking about, right?"

Optimism. Astrid needed to maintain it. There was no way that she was going to go about the year without a calendar of all things. That would be unthinkable. Unacceptable.

"I mean just imagine it, gods forbid, we're stuck here for years without a calendar we miss our birthdays so many times that we forget how old we're supposed to be-"

It was a horrifying thought but she cut herself short before she allowed herself to go any further. Hiccup's birthday was in the winter, wasn't it? Winter was over, which meant that the boy's birthday had come and gone - fifteen winters turning into sixteen. Another change. That meant hers would be coming soon, wouldn't it?

"You missed your birthday, didn't you?"

When she mentioned the whole thing about birthdays, Hiccup stared at her. And then he smiled.

"...I...think it did."

Well. It was a trying smile. One that said that he just realized this as well. February was a short month. Too short.

An awkward laugh escaped him as he waved a hand dismissively, busying himself with what was left of his now-cold soup. "But that doesn't really matter! If it passed here, it passed here..."

"Sixteen Winters old." She started, turning back to her soup when she noticed Hiccup do the same. "Who would've thought."

Hiccup could wave his hand all he wished, trying to brush the subject away as if he were swatting at a fly, but it wouldn't stop Astrid from keeping her focus. The fact that any of them had lived as long as they had was clear as any sign that they'd had the luck of the gods at their backs. Growing up in a Viking village meant that the average life expectancy of an individual usually wasn't very high. When it came to their own little village on Berk, not only were numbers depleted by the usual expeditions to various other lands, but the number of people who had found themselves dinner to dragons had been rather large. It was short of a miracle, at least in Astrid's opinion, that Hiccup had even survived infancy. Sure, she'd never seen him as a baby but judging by how scrawny he was now after sixteen Winters had past, he must have been an awfully small thing when he'd been born.

"Whether it passed or not, that still doesn't make it not matter."

Vikings liked to celebrate, and even though birthdays weren't huge celebrations compared to others, they were still an important time to reflect and thank the gods for keeping one's health for another whole year. They were a time to appreciate the life of that person with words or tokens of gratitude, to show thanks to that individual's existence.

It didn't seem right that Hiccup had missed his birthday. They really needed a calendar; that was definitely clear now, more so than it had been before. She would rectify this. Somehow.

"If you're sixteen Winters old, then that will make me seventeen in turn soon."

Now that was a heavy thought to hold. Not that there was anything wrong with growing older - growing older meant that she was maturing and would only grow smarter and more talented as the years went by. What it also would have meant back home on Berk was that soon her mother and father would have started having awkward talks about marriage. It was common for teens to marry young, at least in other settlements - that's what she'd heard - but on Berk people usually tended to wait a little longer. There were dragons to kill and slaughter, or there had been. That and rebuilding houses that had been burnt to the ground were the main issues usually at the forefront of everyone's mind. There wasn't time to think about planning weddings, at least not very often, which in all honesty, was more than fine in Astrid's opinion.

Sure, she'd been taught the basics that every lady had to learn to take care of their husband - cooking, cleaning, sewing and the like - and while she wasn't terrible at those things, she still wasn't the most adept at them either, certainly not wife material yet. Her stitch was sloppy and sometimes she burnt what she cooked over the hearth. She'd been still learning (when she hadn't been training to kill dragons or honing her skills as a warrior) but being tossed a thousand years or more into the future only made developing those skills even more difficult. Astrid always loved a challenge, but nothing could match with what she faced here in Siren's Port. For someone who strove for perfection not being able to pass as mediocre in most things was infuriating. That didn't mean with practice she wouldn't reach a level of skill that she could be satisfied with. It could take some time though, all considered.

But, she was getting ahead of herself. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third was sixteen Winters old and she, Astrid Hofferson, would be seventeen soon enough. Unless Stoick the Vast suddenly appeared on the island (or her parents) there'd be no talk of marriage or anything of that sort - a fact she'd covet as a blessing. Someday, it would happen, but not for at least a few more passing of winters.

She caught herself staring then, having zoned out for a moment, cheeks pink with her thoughts as she refocused, clinking her spoon against the edge of her bowl somewhat harshly without meaning to.

"We'll celebrate it. Mine too. I wonder how they celebrate birthdays in this day and age?"

It'd be interesting to find out.

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Soup Soup

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