Astrid's eyes widened. For a moment, she felt like a child again, wishing on every birthday, new years eve, and holiday that her parents would come to find her. Get her out of the foster care system and that she could finally be part of a family.

Just like… just like those children. Hoping she was their long lost mother. Astrid's heart sank deep into her chest. Though she hadn't raised her voice, she had spoken harshly to them, and now she felt regret numb her arms and make her legs feel week. She shouldn't have spoken that way to them, even if what she said was true.

The woman before her tilted her head, gazing at her with a watery smile. "What's wrong, Dear?"

This woman certainly looked like her, Astrid noted. In another life, she could have been her mother. Possibly.

"You're not…" Astrid began, fighting the overwhelmingly conflicting emotions inside her. "That's not possible," Astrid said. "I don't have a mother."

The woman smiled again. "You just don't remember me," she said, softly.

"No, I mean, I grew up without a mother, or father," Astrid said. "Trust me, I think I would remember having parents."

The woman blinked, frowning. Then she smiled again, as if she finally understood what Astrid was saying. "Well," she said, gently, "You don't have to believe that I'm your mother, but I care about you very much, Astrid." The woman reached out a hand to her. "My name is Gritta." After a moment's pause, she added, "My husband's name is Brandr Hofferson."

Astrid's eyes widened slightly.

The woman offered her hand again. "Let's get you out of that shift and into something a little… more, why don't we?"

Astrid nodded slowly. She reached out, and took the woman's hand.

The house of the Hoffersons—Berk's Hoffersons—was homey, comfortable, and most importantly, warm. "Your father—my husband—is out on a fishing trip. But he'll back in a few days. He'll be… so happy to see you. To know that you're alive." The woman—Gritta, motioned to another middle-aged woman. The woman came over, smiling wondrously at Astrid. "This is Gritsnap, my older sister," Gritta said. She turned to Gritsnap. "Astrid doesn't remember us."

Gritsnap nodded. "I thought as much," she said. "I was there when you ran to the cliff's edge."

Astrid felt her cheeks warm. "Oh," she said. "I… didn't realize I had such a wide audience."

Gritsnap smiled warmly at Astrid, before stepping forward and almost looking like she was about to hug her. Then, with some effort, she stopped herself. Casually, a little too casually, Gritsnap said, "Well, you look starved. I'll prepare some stew, bread and cheese for you, as well as some Meade. That'll warm you up."

"Thanks," Astrid said, appreciatively. "That would be… Thanks."

Gritta nodded, as Gritsnap began to prepare Astrid's meal. "Come, sit by the fire," Gritta said, motioning for Astrid to sit on a fur covered bench. As she warmed her hands by the fire, Gritta disappeared to the other end of the house, then returned with a dress. "I'm afraid it's much too large," she said. "Both Gritsnap and I are much larger than you are. But it'll keep you covered and warm."

Astrid took the dress. She frowned. "I'm not sure…I know how to put this on."

Gritta and Gritsnap glanced at each other. "Of course," Gritta said. "Come with me, I'll help you."

Astrid stood up and followed Gritta to a private part of the open house, and after a few minutes effort, Astrid was wearing a much-too-large but comfortable dress. "Thanks," she said. "Do you know where my clothes are? The ones that man—Hiccup found me in?"

Gritta cocked her head. "I assume they're at the wash house," she said. "They needed desperately to be cleaned and tended to, and we're not quite sure what to make of the fabric, or how to treat it. When it's cleaned you can have them back. For now, you can wear your old clothes. I know for a fact Hiccup still hasn't been able to bring himself to get rid of any of your old things, so you'll have plenty of clothes to choose from."

Astrid nodded, and followed Gritta back to the fire, where Gritsnap was waiting with the food. It tasted good—and on Astrid's far too empty stomach, it was manna from heaven.

"What were you doing walking around in nothing but your shift?" Gritsnap asked, as she began to clean the cauldron the leftover stew had been in.

"I… I didn't want to be in that house anymore," Astrid said, after swallowing.

"Oh?" Gritta looked concerned. "Why not?"

"I'm not Hiccup's wife. He's…" she sighed. "I don't know how to say this, but he weirds me out. I don't want him anywhere near me."

Gritta and Gritsnap glanced at each other, surprised.

"Well," Gritta said, sounding unsure, "Why don't you stay here for the night? Or however long you wish to. Kyri and Árni have been staying here the last year as well, after you… after you…" Gritta paused, glancing at Gritsnap again, before looking at Astrid. "Well, you're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like."

Astrid nodded. "Thank you." And she meant it. "But I'm not really your daughter. You realize that, right?"

Gritita glanced at Gritsnap again, before looking at Astrid. "Of course," she said. "Of course I know that."

But Astrid knew both women still thought she was Gritta's long lost daughter. For a moment, Astrid thought she should deny the invitation to stay there. Perhaps it wouldn't be right, to take advantage of this woman's hospitality when these women clearly thought she was someone else. But she knew no one else here, and the alternative was Hiccup's house.

But with those two children staying here… Astrid felt another stab of guilt, then a few more. When they arrived at their grandmother's for the night, she would have to apologize—try to make things right. Hiccup might be a Grade A creep, but his children weren't.

"Is something wrong?" Gritta asked.

Astrid glanced at her, before saying, shame settling deep in her gut. "I kind of… did something I regret. While at Hiccup's house."

Gritta raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

"I told Hiccup's kids I wasn't their mom," Astrid said. "I mean, I'm not. But… it just kind of came out wrong. I hadn't meant it to sound as… mean as it did. I was worked up and…" she sighed, looking down at her feet. "It was a mistake," she said.

Gritta gazed at her. "Well, I wasn't there, so I can't confirm or deny that," she said. "But… children are children. You should apologize, if you feel that you hurt them in some way."

Astrid nodded.

"They'll be here soon for the night, you can apologize then," Gritta said.

"Okay," Astrid said. "Thank you."

Gritta nodded.

"If I may ask," Astrid said, "Why are Hiccup's children staying here? Instead of at his house?"

"Oh," Gritta said, standing. She began to help Gritsnap with cleaning up after Astrid's meal. "It was my idea, but Hiccup was thankful, I think. As chief and leader of the village, he… he has his hands full. And…" Gritta paused, looking sad. "He was so devastated after your death, he was in a bad place. He could barely take care of himself, let alone two small children, and maintain his duties as Chief. And as their grandmother, I felt it was my duty to help."

Astrid nodded slowly. That certainly explained why Hiccup was acting the way he was around her. But…

She still didn't like him.

Not. One. Bit.

The door opened, the wind blowing in, before the door quickly shut. Astrid looked over to see Hiccup's two children rush forward. "Nanna, Daddy said for us to come here—" They both froze when they saw Astrid.

"Hey," she said, putting down her plate and smiling at them.

She got up from her seat and walked over to them, crouching down so they were face to face.

"How are you?" she began, before wincing, "I mean… I'm… I'm sorry I wasn't very nice before. It was… it was not great of me. I wasn't upset at you, I was… well, there isn't any excuse. I shouldn't have said that to you that way."

The girl still looked at Astrid with a hesitant expression. "Are you our momma now?" the little boy asked, taking a small step towards Astrid.

Astrid looked helplessly at Gritta.

Gritta sighed knowingly, before patting Astrid on the shoulder. "Árni, Kyri, Astrid here, is…" Gritta glanced at Astrid. "She's not the same person as Momma. She's… she's a little different."

The two children glanced at Astrid, clearly confused.

"I… I don't remember you," Astrid said softly, and both children looked at her with surprise. "But… I don't remember anyone here. Not just you. And… just because I'm not your mom, doesn't mean… we can't be friends."

Both children looked at her in surprise. "Friends?" the girl asked, her stony expression fading.

Astrid nodded. "Yeah, I mean… I never had a mom growing up, so I can't… imagine what it would be like to lose her. I can't replace your mom, but I can be your friend. Is that okay? I'd like to be your friend, if you… if you can forgive me?"

The little girl nodded slowly. The boy stepped forward, and place his small, pale hand on Astrid's arm. "Yeah, yes," he said, smiling up at her.

"His name is Árni, and the girl is Kyri," Gritta said to Astrid.

Kryi still stood back a ways, gazing at Astrid with a strange expression. "You're really not my Momma?" she asked.

Astrid nodded.

Kyri bit her lip. Then she sighed dramatically. "Okay," she said. "But… why are you mad at Daddy?"

Astrid glanced, panicked, at Gritta. She definitely couldn't say why in front of these kids. "I just… I don't know," Astrid said, smiling around her panic.

"Why don't you two go to your room, and play with your toys," Gritta said, ushering the two children towards the ladder. When both children had disappeared upstairs, Gritta turned to Astrid. "Árni doesn't remember you much, I mean, his mother, much, I think. He's only a little past four and a half. Kyri is almost seven. It'll be harder for her to adjust to you not being the mother she wants back."

Astrid nodded, gazing down at her cup of Meade. She felt retched. But… it would be dishonest and much worse for her to pretend to be someone she was not. To give these people the false hope that someone they obviously cared for a lot, a daughter and wife and mother, had returned to them. No, she might have to break a few hearts, but they would recover. In the end, it would be what's best for them. She wasn't their daughter, or wife, or mother. She was just… herself. Astrid Hofferson. A different Astrid Hofferson. Somehow. With the same markings and scars and birthmark, apparently.

She shook her head, clearing her mind of that disturbing thought.

"If it's too difficult for the children for me to be here, I can look elsewhere for lodgings," Astrid said.

"Nonsense," Gritsnap said. "The children will be fine. It'll be an adjustment. But family is family, regardless if we're related by blood or not."

Astrid blinked in surprise at these words.

She had never had a family. To be accepted so easily into one was… startling. Pleasant, but startling. Again, she felt a stab of guilt. She wasn't the one they were hoping for—she wasn't the one they loved. Perhaps she really should go find somewhere else to stay. But instead, she nodded her head.

It couldn't be too harmful to… see what it was like to be part of a family, would it?

To be continued…

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