Chapter Text
For the record: Astrid was dragged to the market against her will—and her better judgment, to be honest.
She just stopped by the Thorstons' to ask her arm wraps back before Ruff very conveniently forgot that they weren't actually hers, and then quickly and expertly got roped into helping Ruff with her chores even before she could have had a single sentence out.
In Ruff's defense—yeah, Astrid couldn't believe she was defending her either—, her main chore for the day was doing the shopping, and her mother had left her with a long list. Longer than Astrid's forearm. And so the two girls, baskets in their hands, set out for the market.
The whole shopping went smoothly enough at first, but Astrid made her first mistake at old Snorri's fruit stand. While Ruffnut haggled with Snorri over the price of some green apples—apparently both were on the opinion that the other wanted their whole family to starve—, Astrid's gaze settled on some pears. Some beautiful, plump, delicious-looking pears that she suddenly found herself to have such a craving for.
She was just handing over a silver coin to Snorri's assistant for half a dozen pears—they'd make a great snack for her and Hiccup later—when she felt Ruff's inquisitive gaze on her. "What?" she snapped.
"You don't even like pears," Ruff noted, frowning at her.
Astrid blinked at her friend. "I never said that."
"You once near barfed when Snot offered you some."
"That was in response to Snotlout, not the pears."
Ruff gave her a hard look, then shrugged. "If you say so."
And so the topic was shelved. At least until Njall Bulbnose's fish stand, where Ruffnut had the great idea to—the moment Njall was looking the other way—push a fish right into Astrid's face.
"Do you think it's fresh?" she asked, basically pressing the dead fish's scaly side against Astrid's nose.
Who promptly gagged.
"Are you out of your mind?! No!" She did her best to push the fish away and keep her breakfast down. "It smells vile!"
Ruffnut, the fish hovering in front of her, gave Astrid a curious look. One that lasted way too long for her liking and that looked like as if Ruff was trying to figure out some great puzzle, which never bode well.
And then she started laughing.
"Loki kick me in the ass!" Ruffnut exclaimed. "You got knocked up!"
Astrid jumped, instinctively looking around to see who might have heard her—hopefully, no-one—, then moved to physically make Ruffnut shut up. "Why would you—"
It was useless.
"I've known for a while that you are going to end up popping out a bunch of little Hiccups, " Ruff went on, apparently having the time of her life, the fish long forgotten and dropped back into the crate, "I just didn't think you'd start this soon."
Apparently having failed at making her shut up, Astrid grabbed Ruff's arm, dragging her further away from the shoppers—in a place like Berk, the smallest spark was enough to start a wildfire-like rumor. "I'm not pregnant," she gritted out.
"Oh, but I bet you are," Ruff grinned as they stopped behind a closed stall.
"And what on the gods' green earth makes you think that?!"
"Well, you're suddenly loving foodstuff you hated before," she nodded at the pears. "And other stuff is making you sick."
"That's hardly evidence," Astrid said, putting her basket down and crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I never hated pears and that fish was rotten," she argued.
The next moment, without any warning, Ruffnut's hand shot out and poked her in the chest.
"Ouch!" Astrid pressed her hand against her breast. "Why would you do that?!"
"Your boobs are sensitive, too. And they seem bigger too, if you ask me."
"You poked them with you talon-like finger! Of course they're sensitive!"
Ruff just grinned wider. "Deny, deny all you want, missy," she said in a sing-song voice. "You let Hiccup put his scrawny little carrot into you…" She actually lifted a rather thin and sorry looking carrot out of her basket, waving it in front of Astrid's nose. She scowled it—Ruffnut's scale was way off. "And now…" She stole a quick glance into her basket. "Now we have to go to the baker's."
Astrid blinked at the sudden change of topic. "Why?"
"I need a pastry to demonstrate your bun in the oven."
"Ruffnut, I swear to Odin, I'm going to cut you."
"Alright, no need for pastries. We have this anyway," she said, this time lifting a whole cabbage from the basket. "The size of the thing you'll have to push out of your hoo-ha in, what? Eight months?"
"You'll pay for this, Thorston."
"Sure thing, momma," Ruff laughed, turning around. "But first, we still have a bunch of stuff to get." And with that she marched back towards the market proper, apparently completely confident that Astrid would follow.
She stood there for a moment more, trying to convince herself that it was just the twins' usual insanity, nothing worth getting worked up over. It wasn't like Ruffnut was right, anyway. She wasn't pregnant.
…Right?