The Gift Of Power | Wattys 2020 (Dance of Power Trilogy: Book 1)

The Chosen One

When Astrid awoke the following morning, she was in a towering rage. Her mother had been frantic when Troels got back into the house carrying their apparently unconscious daughter in his arms. Astrid had woken up briefly, only to be smothered with care after her father had repeated Hiccup's words about how she had almost frozen to death. In truth, Hiccup wasn't exaggerating, but that was hardly the point. He had managed to divert her again!

Not only that, he had tried to feed her a pile of ridiculously outrageous lies. Likely in a poorly enacted plan to distract her from why she was angry in the first place. It was the type of thing she expected from Snotlout, not Hiccup. The fact that it seemed so entirely out of character only making her even more angry at him. Boy was Hiccup in for a surprise if he thought it had actually worked.

Still fuming, Astrid stomped her way towards the arena. Ready to bash some skulls during the mandatory sparring session. Maybe she would even ask Hiccup to spar with her for once, since he was the one she really wanted to hit. Of course she knew that she would never be able to beat him. If she could get a few good shots in though, it would be worth the embarrassing defeat.

Arriving at the arena before anyone else, Astrid was surprised to see only Hiccup there waiting for them. Ilweran was conspicuously absent, which was more than a little odd. Although Hiccup had come and gone occasionally, the other man had always been something of a constant. As soon as everyone had arrived, Hiccup told them that they would be staying at the arena today. This was also very strange, and the recruits looked around at each other in confusion. Hiccup simply carrying on with the lesson as if nothing was amiss. Studiously ignoring Astrid's constant glares.

Feeling angry and reckless by the time it came to divide into sparring groups, Astrid made her move. She had noticed that a collection of villagers had been gradually arriving in the stands. Clearly here to watch the sparring. Cami and Heather were waiting for her, but she bypassed them. Stepping away from the lot, she knew that she would be drawing everyone's interest. Good, she thought. He won't be as likely to ignore me if there are this many witnesses.

"Master Scáth," she started sweetly. Her tone deceptively questioning as he turned to gaze at her. "I was wondering if maybe you would spar with me for a change? I'm so used to fighting the others you see, and it would be nice to have a new challenger." She smiled innocently at him.

Slowly, almost insolently, the dark rider walked towards her. His hands folded behind his back and his posture obnoxiously relaxed. Coming to a stop right in front of her, Hiccup lowered his head to be on a level with hers as the hood shadowed his face. Even though she couldn't see his eyes very well, she could still feel the weight of his gaze on her like a pressure on her chest. "I do not think that would be wise Miss Hofferson," he drawled mildly.

Her forced smile immediately dropped into a frown, but Hiccup cut her off before she could ask him why not. "You will divide into your peer group as I have requested. Perhaps some day, if you are ready, I will accept your challenge." Astrid was glaring daggers at him now, but Hiccup just leaned forward until his masked mouth was almost touching her ear. "You are even more irresistible when you are angry. If we were alone right now, I would take great pleasure in punishing you for your insolent mouth."

The brush of his breath on her neck sent an involuntary shiver down her spine and straight to her core. There was something distinctly dirty about his whispered words. The way he spoke of punishing her making it sound unexpectedly sexual. He had never talked to her like that before, and for some unknown reason, Astrid found she actually kind of liked it. His overwhelming magic calling to her body in the same irresistible way that it always did, and she hated him for it!

Well, she really hated herself for it. This show of emotional weakness that she normally would not tolerate. "Fuck you," Astrid muttered in a poor attempt at her previous bravado. Unfortunately her stupid voice wavered.