Chapter Text
Hiccup took a deep breath to calm down slightly. He’d been waiting for this moment since his father had laid the pamphlet before him.
“Archipelago University. That’s where I went for college, and the place where I met your mother. If you get in there, the best Uni in the world for the last 56 years straight, a world of opportunities is going to open up. Just. For. You. And who knows, you might start making the right contacts right away!” He had concluded with a wide grin. Since then, the kid had put all his efforts to achieve grades, credits, and accomplishments that would allow him to set foot there. He had succeeded, earning the title of Valedictorian, 4 consecutive years of Honor Roll in High School, and a 4.0 GPA, alongside various extremely positive recommendations from his teachers.
But now, he was sitting behind the closed door of his father’s car. Everything that needed to be brought with him to the new dormitories had been sent a few weeks prior and was already waiting for him there. But Hiccup was still out of his comfort zone, though there seemed to be no clear reason. After all, everyone here was going to be just like him, right? So why was he so hesitant to open the car door, staring at the campus’ gates with very mixed feelings? There was no turning back, he was officially to become an adult. His father’s gruff and deep voice reached him.
“What are you waiting for, boy? You’re going to be late, wouldn’t want that for your first day here, would you?” Hiccup was overcome by anxiety. He was, after all, Stoick Haddock’s son, firstborn of the great steel magnate. A whole legacy that, until then, had done little more than gift him with disquietude, stress, and very low self-esteem. But he could change that. He could change that here, at Archipelago.
Hiccup’s grip tightened. His father was right. He couldn’t hesitate, not there, not then. Not with his future lying just before him. He reached for the door’s handle.
“Yeah, love you dad”. He half-mumbled as his foot touched the sidewalk.
“Love you too, son!” Stoick’s voice reached him as Hiccup was making his way up the white marble stairs. Thankfully, nobody seemed to have heard the enthusiastic parent.
After all, it was just his thoughts messing with him. He just had to go in there and meet some friends, as simple as that. As if it had ever worked. It took him a moment to realise he was already talking to himself before even setting foot inside the building. “Great job, Hiccup”. He silently scolded himself. This day was either going to be great or terrible. The best he could do was try to avoid the latter scenario.
He looked around, scouring the enormous staircase in search of anyone who might seem approachable. A young man, probably a couple of years older than him, was making his way towards the glass entrance. His scarlet hair and beard jiggled as he skipped down, missing one or two steps every time. Hiccup couldn’t fail to note how he seemed desperately drunk at just 8 in the morning.
Then, as he turned around to follow the red-headed swaying figure, a strange vehicle caught his eyes. A tandem cheerfully came up the road, as its two drivers sang merrily. Hiccup initially thought he was seeing double, but quickly realized the two must be twins. He couldn’t really determine their gender but, if he had to give an answer, he would’ve guessed both of them to be females. Their blondish locks were the less colourful parts of their outfits: one had a bright red neon shirt on, matching with yellow pants. The second’s shirt was the same colour as the first’s sweatpants, but their own pants were bright green instead. Startled and slightly perplexed, Hiccup realized they must’ve been mimicking traffic lights.
“Excuse me, coming through!” Hiccup shifted his weight aside, narrowly avoiding the approaching student. He only caught black hair arranged in a ponytail and maybe the hint of a blue tattoo on his chin, though he could’ve easily dreamt that. Taking a second look, he noted how, even from behind, he could see the greatly toned muscles of the student’s shoulders and upper back, hinting at an extremely manly figure, possibly even an athlete. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one to notice: a flock of girls was following the jock, a large part of the group with their mouths half-open as they admired what Hiccup was now convinced was an extremely muscular guy. By the build he didn’t seem to be a freshman, and that slightly calmed Hiccup down. If that guy was that popular after a single day, he could officially hide in his closet for the next four years.
A loud honk suddenly pulled his attention away from the guy and towards a pitch black limousine. A door opened, and a black leather boot stepped out of it. Initially, Hiccup thought it was some kind of celebrity visiting, but he was quickly proven wrong. As the figure stepped out of the vehicle, he realized it was a boy his age, somehow even shorter than him. His black hair was messily wrapped in a brown beanie bearing a logo that was, from Hiccup’s distance, completely unrecognizable. He made his way towards the stairs in an outfit that must’ve cost more than the scholarship. The kid pulled down his sunglasses, revealing blue eyes that met Hiccup’s, before looking away. Hiccup had to convince himself that everybody he had just seen were real people and not a dream. Because they were, most definitely, not like him. At all.
It took him a moment to shake himself from a quiet trance that he had fallen into. Not even five minutes had passed since his father had driven away, leaving him together with the last backpack he needed to complete his moving to the dormitories, and he had already come face to face with scenes of public disorder, irresponsible driving, and toxic popularity: nothing to what he was used to in his old school. At least he hoped it had been five minutes. Rapidly glancing at the time on his phone, he panicked and started scrambling in the direction he thought could be the one to the class for his Math course. He crossed the door, officially stepping inside the university’s main building, but his thoughts were definitely elsewhere. Arriving late wouldn’t be the best way to start his journey to major in Mechanical Engineering.
He had almost broken into a run when he turned around a corner and collided with a large figure. Pushed back, it took him a moment to be able to fix his eyes on the other student.
“I—I’m sorry!” Hiccup mumbled as an apology. He knelt down to collect the papers he had just spilled from the other boy’s arms. “I’m just so in a hurry—I don’t even know where I should be going!”
The boy silently took a worksheet that had made its way behind Hiccup and, with a calm and slightly shy tone, investigated the messy-haired student before him: “Where should you be going?”
“Math, freshman year.” Hiccup turned slightly to look him in the face. What he saw wasn’t what he expected as his eyes fell on a tall young man who could best be described as of husky build. “You know where it is?”
“They said it yesterday at the orienteering.” They both got up and Hiccup handed him the papers he had collected. “It should be on the second floor, first class to the right at the top of the inner staircase. I think it was room 201. I’m not sure, though”.
“Thanks a lot—?” He eyed the husky boy questioningly, hoping that this could be the first step towards the creation of a social life.
“Fishlegs. Fishlegs Ingerman.” Fishlegs’s eyes looked back at Hiccup with a tad of anxiety, scared that the boy was going to make fun of his name. “And you?”
“Hiccup Haddock.” The two shook hands politely, though Hiccup was a little self-conscious because he was now running quite tight on time. “Sorry Fishlegs, I have to go, catch you around.”
The two separated with Hiccup taking off headed for the main inner staircase. He flew up the flight going three steps at the time, his backpack rocking from side to side, resulting in complaints from older students who were lazily marching up.
The stairs were, to Hiccup’s surprise, made up of dark spruce wood. Their antique look matched pretty oddly with the rest of the building, which had a completely modern feel to it. They were most likely a part of the building since it was constructed many years ago, whilst everything around them changed. While one was climbing them, they could observe the walls, fully covered by portraits of past students. Hiccup was certain that somewhere there was one showing a young man with a flaming beard, muscles the size of mountains, and the name “Stoick ‘the Vast’ Haddock”, hanging around.
When he finally emerged from the stairs, he immediately turned to the right, where a sign reading “201” stood. As soon as the boy opened the door, he lunged forwards and entered the room, just as the outdated analog clock ticked to signal 8:04, with class starting at 8:05. Relieved, he headed for the middle of the room, a place close enough to hear everything but, at the same time, far enough to avoid awkward interactions with the professor. Scanning the class he recognized none of the students, with the only exception being the dark-haired kid who had worn the beanie, seated in the furthest-back row. To Hiccup’s confusion, he had kept his sunglasses on.
The seconds left before the start of class were becoming less and less when a blonde blur slipped into the hall together with an imposing man. He wasn’t extremely built, nor was he particularly tall, but he emanated a strange aura with every movement. By the density of his beard and his attitude when walking to the front desk, it was easily deducible that he was, in fact, the professor.
The world-wide acclaimed math teacher. The only man who managed to win not one, not two, but three Nobel Prizes for Mathematics and real-world applications. His discoveries had helped astrophysicists build the next generation of rockets, economists understand how the 2008 Wall Street Crisis could have been prevented, and Formula 1 teams how to increase the power given by an engine by also reducing the amount of fuel required, though many of his fans, Hiccup included, believed the last feat was the fruit of a personal passion rather than a real assignment.
Even his name alone was famous. The students at Archipelago called him Mr. Always-Grim, due to the serious approach to learning and discipline he requested in his classes, but his true name was Viggo Grimborn. The class seemed to suddenly quiet the moment he walked in, clearly afraid of incurring his wrath on the first day. Even Hiccup silently feared the professor, though he recognized that his famous systematic approach might’ve been for the best. Hiccup knew his way of learning, especially mathematics, was… Odd. Different from the rest of the students at his old school.
Mr. Grimborn walked slowly, in a deliberate manner, until he stood behind his desk, his piercing brown eyes scanning the room. Then, with a deep voice that conveyed a slight bit of amusement, he addressed the students. “Today is going to be an introductory lesson. No content will be covered, and I will not be teaching. All of you here have had access to the curriculum, so you all know what is expected of you as prior learning. Starting tomorrow, I will expect you all to know every single bit of the required skills, ranging from trigonometry to calculus, from number study to probability.
“Now, however, you have the hour to go through what is necessary and, if you have any doubts whatsoever, I am available.” He smirked for a moment before he turned very serious once again, not a bit of encouragement in his words. “After all, there is no need for me to be cruel with you, the program is already quite hard without me having to intervene.” He waited a few seconds before continuing. “I know that the older students call me all sorts of names, but the truth is that I am your ally in our common discovery of the secrets of the universe, and Math is the language we need to interact with it”.
A light snicker came from one of the back rows. The professor raised an eyebrow, but apparently remained calm.
“Who was that? Did I say something so hilarious that you couldn’t keep yourself from laughing?” His eyes scoured the class, finally settling on the boy with the sunglasses.
“Mr… Jorgenson, am I right?” He called out to the kid. “You know, I knew your father when I myself went through my University studies. Not the brightest of the bunch, but he was very determined. I heard he had enough common sense to marry that widow whose husband died some time back, leaving her a fortune. Judging from how his spoiled brat dresses… I’d say the rumors are true.” He quickly closed in on the student, walking right through the middle of the class. “What is it they call you, Mr. Jorgenson?” Finding the teacher hovering right in front of him, eyes focused solely on himself, the kid strummed together a name.
“S—Snotlout.” Viggo’s fist landed on the boy’s desk.
“When you’re talking to me, address me with sir.” He commanded, with a totally calm voice. “I don’t expect for you to suddenly learn good manners, Snotlout, but you better learn them quickly. Make sure I don’t hear from you again unless I ask.” Snotlout Jorgenson nodded frantically, and Mr. Grimborn started making his way back to his desk. He suddenly turned around once more.
“And put those damned sunglasses away before I do it myself.” He ordered.
“Y—Yes, sir!” As Snotlout quickly fumbled to put the glasses away, Viggo arrived at his desk.
He sat down in his chair, back upright as he opened his laptop, connected it to the newest-model projector hanging from the ceiling, and displayed two pie-chart graphs. One represented the average abandonment rate of all courses at Archipelago University, and the other the same rate for Advanced Pure and Applied Mathematics. The students’ shock was enough that a bystander would’ve believed they had just seen a ghost.
“As you can see,” Mr. Grimborn said, once again standing up and turning to point at the projected image, “this class has a drop-out rate that is 9 times that of other subjects. 10% against 90. I will not lie, if I see more than half of you next week, it will be a new record.” He laughed a cold, humorless laugh. “Only the best survive, so you either become one, or procrastinate long enough to see no other option except leaving.”
Panicking, most of the students left their seats and headed towards Mr. Grimborn’s desk, ready to bury him in thousands of questions, both regarding the course and the ‘prior learning’ required. Only two shapes remained by the desks: Hiccup, who took his book on Integral Calculus and opened to the page on applications of the Maclaurin Series, and the blonde girl who had slipped in together with Mr. Grimborn.
“Hey,” she said in a soft voice, getting closer, “mind if I sit here?”
Hiccup’s eyes raised to meet an ocean-blue gaze looking down on him, her expression questioning. He stared back into those bulbs, losing himself completely in the slight taint of grayish blue at the top fading into an aqua-blue towards the bottom, the same exact shades as the water by a Maldivian coral reef. Not that he’d ever been there, but that was the closest thing he’d ever seen. And there was no way the Maldives were better than this. Shaking out of his trance, he glanced upwards and took her entire face into focus.
Her blonde hair framed her face in a delicate yet natural way, as if she didn’t spend hours on end stylising her hair but still achieved a similar result naturally. She had a braid that started at the center of her face and then, following her forehead as a crown, fell back to her left side. Hiccup also noted how they were slightly blown, hinting at how she was probably an active person, though her attitude suggested that she wasn’t an athlete but rather just cared about herself. It dawned on him how he desperately wanted to run his fingers through her hair as she rested her round head on his lap while they were getting ready to watch a movie—
“Uh— hello?” Went the girl, waving her hand between the two of them after some time, bringing Hiccup back to reality. He thought he was about to get scolded for not replying but, when he looked at her lips, he didn’t find them twisted in anger but rather found her cheeks to be slightly tinted red. His were definitely feeling warm.
“Y-Yeah, no worries!” He finally replied, a mixture of enthusiasm and shyness in his voice. “Want me to scoot over?”
“No, thanks, I’m fine.” She slid down in the seat to his left and, before she could take her notebook and textbook, she turned once more to look at him. “You’re?”
Hiccup awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “I-I’m Hiccup,” Then, remembering that good manners imply that he should ask her her name as well, “You?”
She gave a small smile. “Astrid.” Then, seeing that he didn’t go back to his book, “Need something?”
“No-No, I’ll go back to the Maclaurin Series.”
As Astrid settled beside him, Hiccup became acutely aware of every minuscule detail about her presence. The way she smoothed out the hem of her jeans as she sat, how her elbow brushed against his ever so slightly when she adjusted her posture, even the way her scent—something like citrus and pine, fresh yet subtly sweet—seemed to settle in the air around them.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to look back at his notebook, but the letters and equations blurred together. The integral signs and differentials seemed meaningless compared to the simple fact that this blonde newcomer was sitting next to him. The girl who seemed to have the confidence of a warrior and the grace of someone who had no need to prove herself. The girl who, by some miracle, had chosen to sit beside him.
His thoughts spiraled, untamed. Was she here for a reason? Had she just wanted a seat, or was she actually interested in talking to him? After all, he was the only other person sitting down at the moment. Maybe she had noticed him before. Maybe she had asked around about him, and decided he was worth getting to know. Maybe—
No, he had to stop. He was getting ahead of himself. He shook his head and tried to refocus on his notes, but it was hopeless. His mind kept wandering to ridiculous possibilities, each scenario more absurd than the last. What if she suddenly leaned over, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and confessed she thought he was interesting? What if she asked him to study together, and that study session turned into coffee, then late-night texts, then—
“Hey.”
Astrid’s voice cut through his runaway thoughts like a blade through paper, grounding him. He turned his head slightly, trying to act as if he hadn’t just been constructing an entire rom-com in his mind.
“Yeah?” he asked, voice only slightly strained.
She tilted her head, considering him for a moment, then exhaled through her nose in something that was almost—almost—a laugh. “You okay there? You look like you’re calculating the trajectory of a rocket launch.”
He blinked. “Oh. Uh, no. Just… thinking.”
“Thinking,” she echoed, her lips curving slightly at the corners. Then, as if deciding to spare him, she tapped the edge of her textbook. “Well, while you’re at it, mind helping me out? I’ve been trying to wrap my head around Euler’s method, and it’s giving me a headache.”
Hiccup sat up a little straighter. That, at least, was a language he understood. “Euler’s method? Yeah, I can help with that.”
She turned her body slightly to face him, her attention entirely on him now, and Hiccup found himself caught between two very different emotions: relief at having something academic to focus on and complete, and utter distraction at how close she was. He could see the small freckle just beneath her left eye, the way her pupils dilated slightly as she studied his notes. He forced himself to concentrate.
“Okay,” he started, flipping to a blank page in his notebook. “So, Euler’s method is basically an approximation technique for solving differential equations. Instead of finding the exact solution, we take small steps using the derivative to estimate the next point.”
Astrid nodded, her expression serious, and Hiccup felt a small burst of satisfaction. Teaching something to someone who genuinely wanted to understand was one of his favorite things, but teaching it to Astrid—though still a new presence—well, that was on a completely different level.
“So,” he continued, sketching out a rough graph, “let’s say we have a function f(x, y), and we start at some initial point (x₀, y₀). Euler’s method says we can estimate y at the next step using the equation…”
As he wrote, he glanced up to measure her reaction. She was leaning in, her elbow now fully against his, and her brows were furrowed in concentration. Her lips moved slightly as she read through his notes, and Hiccup had to fight to keep his brain from spiraling again.
She nodded slowly. “So we take the derivative at that point, use it to estimate the next value, and just keep going?”
“Exactly,” he said, a little too enthusiastically. “It’s like using a tangent line to approximate the next step.”
Astrid tapped her pen against the table, considering. “Okay. That makes more sense.” She exhaled in relief. “I swear, I was about to throw my book across the room.”
Hiccup chuckled. “Well, that would be one way to approach it. Not sure it's the most effective, though.”
She let out a small laugh, then glanced at his notes again. “You’re good at explaining things.”
The compliment caught him off guard, and he felt his ears heat up. “Oh. Uh, thanks.” He shifted in his seat, glancing back at his notebook. “It’s just… I like this stuff.”
“I can tell.” There was something in her voice—something amused but also genuinely appreciative, not like other times when he had been accused of being a nerd. “It’s kind of cool, honestly.”
Cool. She thought something about him was cool.
Hiccup swallowed hard and focused on the problem in front of them, trying—desperately—to keep his mind from wandering again.
“And, now that we’re already at it,” she said, her voice even and confident as she spoke, “could you help me with volumes of functions? I can’t remember when to integrate in terms of x and when of y.”
“Okay, let’s start from the basics,” he started, flipping to another empty page in his notebook. “So, when we talk about volumes of rotation, we’re using integration to find the volume of a solid formed by rotating a function around an axis.”
Astrid nodded, resting her chin on her hand. Hiccup felt the same thrill as before, and the focussed expression she was giving him definitely had nothing to do with it.
He sketched out a function on his paper. “Let’s say we have a function f(x), and we rotate it around the x-axis. The volume is given by the integral of the cross-sectional areas, which are basically disks.” He started writing the formula:
V = π ∫[a,b] (f(x))² dx.
Astrid leaned in, her arm brushing against his. “So we’re summing up an infinite number of disks to get the total volume?”
“Exactly,” Hiccup said, pleased. “If we’re rotating around the y-axis, we’d use x in terms of y and integrate that way.”
She furrowed her brows slightly, tapping her pen against her notebook. “And what if it’s hollow?”
“Ah, that’s when we use the washer method,” he replied, sketching another diagram. “We subtract the inner radius from the outer radius before squaring.”
Astrid sighed in relief. “Okay, that makes way more sense now. I was ready to throw my book at the wall again.”
Hiccup chuckled. “That seems to be your go-to strategy for math struggles.”
She smirked. “It’s very effective. In the sense that it forces me to stand up and reset.”
Hiccup shook his head, still grinning. He turned the page, about to introduce another example, when Astrid suddenly asked, “So, where did you go to high school?”
He blinked at her, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Oh, uh… just a public school in Berk. Nothing too fancy.”
“Really? You’re pretty good at this stuff,” she said, tilting her head. “What did you get on your math finals?”
Hiccup hesitated for a second, then shrugged. “Uh, 98.”
Astrid raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Okay, wow. I mean, I figured you were smart, but that’s next level.”
Hiccup felt his ears heat up. “It’s just… I like math.”
“I can tell.” She gave him an amused but appreciative smile. “Still, that’s impressive.”
Impressive. She thought something about him was impressive.
Hiccup swallowed and quickly looked back at his notes, trying to keep his brain from spiraling again.
Suddenly, from the front of the class, Mr. Grimborn glanced at the clock and, with an abrupt gesture, stood up, scaring all students who were close enough to fear they were the cause of his sudden movement.
“Class is dismissed.” He said in a strong, low voice. “Tomorrow we start. First topic will be double integrals.” He gave a sly smile. “At least, those of you who will find the courage to come.”
With that, all students started filing out of the room, all except two. Hiccup and Astrid were still packing their bags when Mr. Grimborn headed to where they were seated.
“I noticed that the two of you didn’t come down for help.” His eyes were calculating. “That means that you either have some kind of extraordinary talent or that you are terribly stupid.”
Hiccup felt frozen in his place, having not expected so close of a confrontation on the first day. Astrid, on the other hand, felt bold enough to reply. “Hiccup here was helping me with Euler’s method and the volumes of functions,” Then, remembering how he had yelled at the black-haired student at the start, she added, “sir.”
“Oh, is that so? Then I will expect both of you to excel in tomorrow’s class.” He gave a small smirk. “Now off you go! I guess that my subject isn’t the only class you have today, if you really are so smart.”
The two teens, slightly intimidated, though one more than the other, stood up, thanked him, and left the room.
“Well, that was... something,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah,” Hiccup replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t exactly planning on making an impression that soon.”
Astrid chuckled softly. “At least we’re in this together. You really saved me back there with Euler’s method.”
Hiccup shrugged, feeling warmth rise to his ears. “It wasn’t a big deal. You probably would’ve figured it out anyway.”
She tilted her head, considering him. “Maybe. But it was nice having someone to go through it with.”
For a moment, they simply stood there, neither sure how to continue. Then, realizing the time, Astrid exhaled. “I should get going—macroeconomics waits for no one.”
Hiccup nodded. “Yeah, and I’ve got physics.”
She gave him a quick nod before turning to walk in the opposite direction. “See you around, Hiccup.”
“Yeah, see you,” he replied, watching her for a second before sighing to himself and heading toward his next class, still feeling the ghost of her presence beside him.
The truth was, Hiccup felt as if the lightning of love at first sight had just struck him. They hadn’t spent that much time together, yet he was already imagining how she would feel snuggled against him on the couch.
He groaned. How could he think all that, just for them to separate as soon as class ended, without sharing phone numbers or Insta accounts? What would she think of him? That he was an utter loser. Suddenly, he felt something bump into him from the side, almost sending him flying. It was already the second time that day.
“Woah, didn’t see you there, toothpick!” He felt two big strong hands around his shoulders, trying to somehow stabilize him but just shaking him more. Hiccup raised his eyes to see the young man who he had seen on the marble stairs. A scarlet red beard, and hair of the same color, there was no confusion. With a startle, he realized the other guy’s eyes were the same color as his, emerald green.
“Sorry, y’know, third year’s a bitch!” He laughed maniacally. “Nah, how would you know? You’re a freshman, through and through! The name’s Dagur. Or, as some of the staff here like to call me, Dagur the Deranged!” He burst out laughing once again. Hiccup, falling in a state of utter discomfort, didn’t know how to respond.
“And what’s your name, freshman?”
“Hiccup. Hiccup Haddock, nice to meet you.” He held out his hand timidly, and Dagur shook vigorously.
“Hiccup! Ha! I can see why they named you that. You better start putting on some muscles, kid, lest you’ll leave the girls’ attention to others! Here’s a tip, go check out the track field later, you’ll most likely find Coach Ryker there. He ain’t a sweetheart, not gonna lie, but he’ll make a man out of you”.
“Th—thank you?” Hiccup’s confusion went beyond all charts.
“No worries kiddo, just make sure to not overwhelm yourself.” He quickly glanced at his watch.
“Oh, look at that, we’re running late for class! I gotta go. You know where your next lesson is, Hiccough?” The kid was quick to answer. Dagur’s intentions were definitely nice, but his energy was frying Hiccup’s neurons.
“It's Hiccup and, yeah, I know where to go. Got physics right around the corner, I think it was room 210.” Dagur smiled.
“Well, looks like you’re set then! Go Hiccup!” He shooed him away as if he was setting a bird free. “Just make sure old Mildew doesn’t catch you running!”
“Mildew?” Hiccup thought to himself as he rushed to class. He had no idea who the man was, but if someone as crazy as Dagur didn’t want to meet him, then he didn’t either. But he had other things to worry about. He took a seat, once again in the middle of the classroom, and pulled his books out of the bag. With a couple of minutes left before the beginning of the lesson, Hiccup found himself muttering.
“What the Hel is wrong with that guy? And who’s Mildew?” Hiccup didn’t even realize he was talking out loud.
“Mildew you say?” A hand fell on his shoulder. For a second the kid wondered if it was Dagur, who had for some reason chased him to the classroom, but he then realized the hand was much lighter.
“You already ran into that old douchebag?” Hiccup turned around to face the two twins he had seen riding the tandem bike. From here, he realized that one of them was actually a dude, whereas the other was most definitely a girl.
“Uhh, who are you guys?” The girl snickered while the boy put his hand forward.
“Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston, at your service.” Hiccup hesitantly shook hands.
“I’m Hiccup Haddock.” Before he had any time to go on, the girl interrupted him.
“Well, Hiccup, we heard you mention old man Mildew. Are we correct?” Hiccup considered the situation. There was still time before the beginning of class, and he had gotten curious about the figure.
“Yes, Mildew. Why do you ask me this?” The twins looked around, as to make sure nobody was listening, then leaned in towards Hiccup.
“Well, we just wanted to know if you met him. You see, our great cousin Gruffnut—”
“A troublemaker if there ever was one.”
“—he warned us about him. Apparently Mildew’s the janitor, but he gets in the way of mischief, which is a problem.” Ruffnut quieted as Tuffnut spoke.
“That’s not something Loki would approve of!” They both shook their heads vigorously.
“So what do you want from me?” The twins exchanged a glance.
“Nothing, my dear Hiccup”. Said Tuffnut.
“It's just that those who know Mildew are some kind of troublemakers. Our kind.” Continued Ruffnut. Suddenly, Hiccup realized what the two wanted from him
“N—no, you’ve got the wrong person. I’m just here to learn, I don’t want to cause any type of trouble whatsoever.” He regretted even talking to the twins, but they apparently didn’t. As the clock hit 9:15, they sat in the two desks behind Hiccup’s.
“You might’ve come here without wanting to make trouble, but we see the shadow of Loki’s mischief in your eyes, Hiccup. I bet you’ll be up to no good in no time! And when that happens, give us a call.” Tuffnut concluded as Ruffnut winked at him.
So this was how Hiccup started his second lesson at Archipelago University: haunted by the reincarnations of Loki himself. That was exactly the type of person he wanted to avoid during his four years there. But who did he want to be friends with?
Fishlegs had seemed like an ok guy. He hadn’t attacked Hiccup when the two of them had run into each other, and had actually helped him find his class. He could be someone reliable he might be able to count on. Dagur didn’t appear to be too intimidating for a third year student, though he guessed that the nickname ‘Deranged’ wasn’t completely undeserved. Even though he seemed like a pretty nice person.
The twins were to be avoided at all costs. No questions asked, none needed. They smelled like trouble and mischief, something Hiccup did not, for Thor’s sake, want to get into.
But as he went through this train of thought, he couldn’t help but realise how, with all the new people he had met today, Astrid was the only one that had made him feel truly happy and that had been the most enjoyable to talk to. Although there was a wall of shyness, mostly from his side, he soon realised that she was probably going to be his closest friend, if not something else.
The fact he couldn’t get her off his mind said it all.