#askfearlingcontrolled

Katherine had been on a walk, enjoying the outdoors when it happened. She had quickly found shelter in the cave home Hiccup lived in. She noticed briefly that he was out at the time.

Hiccup and Odin's baby is due this Friday.

How is this going to work.

Loki, I need your help.

Idek if this thing is a boy or a girl or what.

It’s the fifth night in a row that Sophie wakes up in a cold sweat. Her heart pounds slow but hard in her chest and for a few seconds she doesn’t know where she is. Wrestling against the covers in her panic, she switches on her bedside light. It’s a bad mistake.

She sees the crumpled drawings on the floor, the torn fairy doll stuffed under a chair, the Christmas snowflake ornament that she’d snapped in half. She forces her eyes closed, choking back tears.

The Guardians are gone. Jack hasn’t visited in years. Jamie doesn’t care. And worse, she’s almost glad. Because something’s been lingering around her for days, coming to her in dreams—her hands clench the blankets at the reminder. Sandy’s the only one who still comes around…and even then, he taints the only peaceful moments she has.

She’s seen and heard and done things in those dreams that she knows are horrible…and she knows she enjoyed them. Yet, with consciousness, the details fade. She only has vague feelings: a rush of power, delight in the dark, anger…

She throws back the covers and walks to her dresser. The girl that stares back in the mirror is not the vibrant, happy 15-year-old the world normally sees. There are bruise-like marks under her eyes, her face is pale, and her whole body looks listless, as if she’s barely holding herself upright.

She realizes her hands are clenching the edge of the dresser. Breathing deep, she stares down at the scattered items on  the wood surface, reminders of a distance life. Her fingers slide around a glass egg and she holds it up in inspection. Light reflects through, gets trapped, and sits with dull colors in the center.

A breath hisses in through her teeth. She can’t stand the sight of this thing, the reminder of someone she loved, who she trusted. She swings her arm down, throwing it to the hard floor. Glass shatters against the wood. The sound is melodic to her ears now.

It's the fifth night in a row that Sophie wakes up in a cold sweat. Her heart pounds slow but hard in her chest and for a few seconds she doesn't know where she is. Wrestling against the covers in her panic, she switches on her bedside light. It's a bad mistake.

She sees the crumpled drawings on the floor, the torn fairy doll stuffed under a chair, the Christmas snowflake ornament that she'd snapped in half. She forces her eyes closed, choking back tears.

The Guardians are gone. Jack hasn't visited in years. Jamie doesn't care. And worse, she's almost glad. Because something's been lingering around her for days, coming to her in dreams--her hands clench the blankets at the reminder. Sandy's the only one who still comes around...and even then, he taints the only peaceful moments she has.

She's seen and heard and done things in those dreams that she knows are horrible...and she knows she enjoyed them. Yet, with consciousness, the details fade. She only has vague feelings: a rush of power, delight in the dark, anger...

She throws back the covers and walks to her dresser. The girl that stares back in the mirror is not the vibrant, happy 15-year-old the world normally sees. There are bruise-like marks under her eyes, her face is pale, and her whole body looks listless, as if she's barely holding herself upright.

She realizes her hands are clenching the edge of the dresser. Breathing deep, she stares down at the scattered items on  the wood surface, reminders of a distance life. Her fingers slide around a glass egg and she holds it up in inspection. Light reflects through, gets trapped, and sits with dull colors in the center.

A breath hisses in through her teeth. She can't stand the sight of this thing, the reminder of someone she loved, who she trusted. She swings her arm down, throwing it to the hard floor. Glass shatters against the wood. The sound is melodic to her ears now.