Ok, guys. Here I go. I said I might be returning to This Time, For Sure, and I am. At the same time, I will be posting a sequel story. There goes my free time. And my GPA.

Also, I will be adding my version of the deleted scene between Astrid and Hiccup (since some lines are absorbed elsewhere) because it works so beautifully, and it's a pity they cut it out simply because of time. If you have not seen it, you need to, because the scene will make more sense that way. www . youtube watch?v=zdxlj2l0fws

And I am definitely going to be that person who asks for reviews. Just this once, because my birthday was Monday, and I do enjoy belated gifts as much as the next crazed writer. So be kind and spread a little love. Don't worry, I'll never ask again.

I do not own How to Train Your Dragon, though I wish with all of my heart that I owned Toothless. Hiccup would not be a bad addition. A nice, pocket-sized Hiccup to make sarcastic remarks all day...That would be lovely.

Chapter 1:

Astrid groaned softly in a poor attempt to tell the voices to stop. Why did people have to be so loud in the mornings? She pulled her blanket over her head and curled up in a ball, desperate to stay in her warm bed and catch at least a few more minutes of sleep.

Something outside crashed and screams resounded throughout the village.

What on earth was wrong with those Vikings? They were acting as if they were being attacked by–

She sat up quickly and jumped out of her bed before running to her window and throwing open the shutters. Almost immediately, she was nearly blinded by an explosion caused by a Hideous Zippleback igniting a gassed house not far from her own. She quickly slammed the shutters closed and leaned her hands against the boards.

"Dragons..." she murmured as a smile crossed her face. Her heart beat furiously inside her chest and she ran to the chest as the foot of her bed and pushed up the top. After a few moments of searching in the dark, her fingers finally grazed over her pauldrons and she pulled then out and pinned them to her top. She stood up, let the trunk lid fall closed and grabbed her skirt and belt off the foot of the bed. As she fastened the skirt and adjusted the belt so her leather pouch was on her right hip, she stepped into her boots, wiggling her feet around until the legs straightened around her calves. She then grabbed her head band and held it between her teeth as she quickly braided her hair back and tied it with a small strip of leather. She tied the headband and pulled her bangs free as she scurried down the stairs to the main room of the house. For a moment she wondered how her brothers, Grimefoot and Splinter, could have possibly left the house without waking her, but she quickly forgot the thought when the former and younger of the two burst through the front door, his face flushed in the dying firelight, his eyes wide and bright with excitement.

"Hurry up!" He gasped. "You're missing all the action!"

"Why are you back, then?" she asked.

Grimefoot reached around the side door and pulled a large hammer from the shadows. "Mom's commandeered my battle axe. Figured I should come back for this." He grinned at her under his yellow mustache. His beard was not fully grown, as he was only seventeen, but he was proud of the hair he did have. Grimefoot still lived with Astrid and her parents and her brother Splinter, unlike the older two brothers who were both married and living in their own homes.

Astrid grabbed a short sword off the table, but Grimefoot ran over and snatched it from her. "Not tonight, little sister. You're on water duty, as usual."

She stamped her foot. "Again? But, I can help! I want to fight!"

Grimefoot held up his hands just in front of his shoulders. "I don't make these calls. Take it up with Stoick."

"I can fight," she insisted.

He laughed. "You can hit trees. Dragons are different. They don't wait for you to hit them." He cocked his head toward the door. "Let's go."

She followed him into the cold of morning and pondered why on earth the village had not moved to a warmer climate with fewer pests years ago. Generations of reconstruction and war, yet they had stayed. They were Vikings, she supposed, and Vikings were stubborn and strong.

And she was above all things a Viking. "I can fight just as well as anyone else, and you know it," she grumbled, not bothering to add that she was better than most. They both knew.

Grimefoot grabbed her arm and pulled her against the side of a house while a Gronckle flew by. "I'm not the one to argue with, I told you." Once the way was clear, he darted out from behind the house. "Besides, Dad would gut me if I let you do something like that and you got yourself killed."

"I wouldn't get myself–"

"And," he interrupted, "you start training in a few days. You'll knock 'em dead." He lifted his arm and threw his hammer as a Deadly Nadder flew by. The stone head hit the dragon's head and the beast fell to the ground. "Literally." He turned to face her. "Now, get to the square. They need you. And Thorhalla needs me. She was having some bad Zippleback trouble last I checked."

"Is that all you're planning on helping her with?" she quipped.

His eyes widened. "Who did you– Who have you been talking–"

She stuck her tongue out at him as she ran past.

"Astrid!" he called after her, but she did not turn back. She enjoyed having the last word, as she did not get that privilege often, being the youngest of five children. Besides, it was so easy to tease Grimefoot about his relationship with Thorhalla. They were not an official couple, but Astrid knew where he went at night.

She reached into her pouch as she ran and pulled out two long strips of cloth, which she began wrapping around her hands and wrists and arms. She needed extra protection against fire and debris.

She jumped over a ledge and ran down a street, skidding around a corner and bounding into the town square. She jogged up to the group of kids her age, all gathered around a huge barrel of sea water, collected specifically for the purpose of quenching flames.

"Astrid!"

She fought against the urge to groan at the sound of Snotlout's voice. He was a good fighter, she'd grant him that, and he was good at throwing axes and and had a decent amount of strength and could handle a spear with accuracy, but he was without a doubt one of the more annoying people on the island. She truly wished he would stop his useless flirting and boasting. She would never look his way, not when she had more important things to worry about, like training herself to become the best Viking of her age group.

"Astrid, I'm so glad you're here. I mean, I've been handling it on my own, and I could totally continue to do that, but you're–"

"Where should we start?" Astrid interrupted, looking to Ruffnut.

The other girl shrugged and gestured around the burning plaza. "Take your pick."

Astrid glanced at the buildings and spotted the fire closest to the smithy. That fire could not spread. If Gobber's shop burned down, they would be short on weapon repairs, and that was not an ideal situation for a raid. "I'll take that one," she said, quickly assuming control since someone had to, and she was the most capable. "Snotlout and Tuffnut: take that one over there." She pointed to a huge barn that had caught light. The food had to be saved. "Ruffnut and Fishlegs..." She pointed to a pile of burning hay next to the fishmonger's hut. "Take that one. Alright, let's go!"

The kids immediately sprang into action, grabbing buckets and running to the barrel to fill them with brine.

"Come on! Hurry up!" she shouted to prod them along.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut ran away from the barrel, fighting over a single bucket, screaming at each other and throwing insults. Fishlegs moved as fast as his little legs could carry his enormous frame. Snotlout shot a wink in her direction as he ran toward his own fire. Astrid simply rolled her eyes and filled her bucket. She looked up as water sloshed against the sides and thought for a moment that she had seen a small face lean out the smithy window.

Hiccup.

He was inside, which was good. Bad things always happened when he went outside. He had too many ideas, and those ideas always blew up in his face–sometimes literally. Perhaps he would not be seen as such a nuisance if he were to stop trying so hard. But she did understand his motives, at least. He was the chief's son, and next in line, and he had quite a bit to live up to. Stoick the Vast had very large shoes to fill. She often felt the same way, though to a lesser extent. Being from a huge family, she sometimes felt lost among the huge strapping boys and warrior-like parents, occasionally overlooked. So she strived to be the best, and she was the best, and everyone knew it. The main difference between herself and Hiccup was that she knew what she was doing, and he did not. He was as far from a typical Viking as Hel was from Folkvangr.

She stood up and ran with her barrel to the fire and threw her water on the flames, turning around as a Gronckle caused a huge explosion in the exact spot she had just tried to wet. In spite of the fact that her efforts had been rendered useless, the feeling of being in the midst of so much excitement made her smile. The other kids came along side her and they all jogged past the smithy window. She tried her hardest to ignore the smaller boy as he leaned out the window and watched them. A part of her felt bad for him, but she understood that Hiccup was a disaster when he was let outside.

"Astrid, that was so awesome! You didn't even flinch when that Gronckle came near you..." Snotlout flexed his arm. "Yeah I took out that fire, by myself. It was easy and–"

"No, you didn't, numbnuts," Tuffnut said. "I was there."

Snotlout glared at the male twin. "Ok, you were there, but–"

"There's more to do," Astrid stated. Sometimes she wanted to punch Snotlout, but always decided that he was just not worth the effort. She also had a tendency to wonder if he was really related to Hiccup, for the two were about as different as night and day. Snotlout was big and brawny and dark with small blue eyes, and Hiccup was tiny and pale with deep auburn hair and big...She realized that she actually did not know exactly what colour Hiccup's eyes were, not that it particularly mattered. Hiccup's eyes would never make an impact on her, and it was useless to wonder about them. The boys were different in other ways, as well. Snotlout was strong, and, as much as she hated to admit it, a good fighter; he was, however, exceedingly obnoxious and arrogant and had a tendency to get in her way far too much. Hiccup on the other hand, got in everyone's way, and he was weak and useless and full of ideas that only ever ended in trouble. Hiccup did have one advantage over his cousin, she allowed. He was, above all things, nice. Never a pejorative word, never a bout of anger. And though his ideas were more troublesome than anything else, he was quite clever and could make a decent conversation.

Or so she had heard. She herself had never really spoken to him beyond handing him family weapons to sharpen. At least for the past few years. They had been friends before situation and skill had driven them apart.

She put her bucket under the stream of brine.

Perhaps she should try talking to him one day. Gobber often spoke of the boy's sarcastic sense of humour and quick wit. Reviving a friendship with the boy might be worth the time, if it meant she could talk to someone her age with some level of intelligence.

She stood up with her full bucket and raced toward another fire.

She decided that extending a hand to Hiccup was too much trouble. She had more important things to focus on, like getting Stoick to approve her for dragon training.

Astrid thrust her bucket forward, letting the water fly and fall on the flames.

She dashed back to the barrel.

Fishlegs ran up and bent over with his hands on his knees. "Not doing much good..." He glanced around sharply, like a frightened squirrel.

Astrid looked at the square and had to agree with him. Too many fires, too few of them. The strategy of having each kid tackle a separate blaze was backfiring: flames were spreading faster than they could douse them. She bit her lip in frustration. If they had just one extra pair of hands they could probably start a rotation of sorts, but that extra pair of hands would be attached to Hiccup the Useless, as the village not so lovingly called him. She could always try to find one of the younger boys or girls, recruit some more kids to the patrol, but doing so would take too much time. "We'll take one building at a time," she said.

The other kids arrived and she repeated, "We'll take one building at a time. Everyone fill up, and head to that one!" She pointed to the still-raging fire near the smithy. "Hurry up!"

Snotlout sauntered over to her while the other three teens filled their buckets. "So, babe, after this, we should definitely–"

"Not the time," she said as she jogged over to the barrel and filled her own bucket before running off in the same direction Ruffnut, Tuffnut, and Fishlegs had gone.

She flung the bucket forward, aiming the stream of water at the base of the flames, and turned back for a refill, but just before she reached the barrel, someone screamed, "NIGHT FURY!"

"GET DOWN!" someone else cried.

She grabbed Tuffnut, who was barely an arm's length from her, and pulled him with her as she threw herself against a wall. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if not being able to see the world would make the unholy offspring of lightning and death unable to see her as well.

The Night Fury was the most feared of all the dragons. It would come, silent and invisible in the night, then release a very distinct scream before firing a single shot of blinding light that would explode into a mighty inferno. The shot never missed. No one knew why Night Furies appeared during raids, as they never took food, unlike Gronckles or Nadders.

Gronckles were tough, huge, and bulging. Their bodies seemed to be large barrels with bulbous heads and tails. Deadly Nadders were quick and powerful, covered in spikes. They used their tails to shoot poisoned spines at their opponents, and the poison had a paralysis effect. Hideous Zipplebacks were marked by their two heads, one that breathed gas and another that ignited the air. Monstrous Nightmares were particularly dangerous and known for setting themselves on fire, making direct combat extremely difficult. Most left those beasts to Stoick the Vast. Occasionally a Changewing would make an appearance, and Astrid was glad that one had not been spotted. Those dragons sprayed acid, and the burns would keep the Gothi and healers busy for weeks.

Her eldest brother, Datter, had a Changewing scar on his shoulder. The skin was red and white and black and covered in wrinkles and deep impressions. He had another scar on his left bicep, raised and puffy, from being sprayed with boiling water during a fight with a Scauldron. His greatest scar was one that ran diagonally across his chest, given to him by the Monstrous Nightmare he had fought during his dragon training final exam years ago. Datter's body, in fact, was covered by the marks of battle. His favourite phrase was "It's only fun if you get a scar out of it."

Grimefoot and Splinter thought Datter was crazy, dancing with death during every battle in which he engaged, refusing to end it until his opponent had given him some sort of trophy.

Astrid thought he was wonderful. Each blemish told a story, each line a mark of valor, and she envied him. She wanted her own scars, her own proof of bravery and strength, in spite of the pain that came with them.

She opened her eyes when she heard shouts once more. The night fury had gone, inflicting damage and fleeing for a few minutes. She jumped up, using Tuffnut's shoulder as an aid and pushing him into the ground.

As she ran back to the giant barrel, she saw Gobber the Belch dash out of the smithy and she shot a nervous glance at the building. She spied the back of Hiccup's head through the window and let out a sigh of relief.

Perhaps he'd have the good sense to stay inside for once.

"Fire patrol!"

Astrid's head snapped up and she saw her brothers Grimefoot and Splinter running towards her.

Splinter pulled an axe from behind his back and held it out as he skidded to a stop in front of his sister. "We're moving to the lower defenses. Mom was worried you wouldn't be able to protect yourself when we've all moved to the catapults."

Astrid grabbed the axe handle and ran a hand over the stone head. Her mother's axe was a bit off-balance, but she had learned to work with it.

"Astrid!" An older girl with masses of tight red curls ran up. "Get all of you out of here. Go somewhere safe."

She shook her head. "We can't abandon this job."

Grimefoot put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Splinter made the stupid mistake of giving her a weapon before this conversation. We can't win this, Thorhalla." He winked at Astrid and grabbed his brother's arm. "She can take care of herself."

Splinter ruffled Astrid's hair. "Stay safe, little sister."

The two blonde Hofferson boys and the Egilsdatter girl dashed off, toward the docks where the catapults were stationed.

Astrid took a deep breath and looked around. The storehouse was out of danger, a couple of the barns were safe, and all other buildings were lost causes. Perhaps moving to a more secure location was a good idea. "We're falling back!" she barked. "To the forest! Move!"

The kids ran for the trees with Tuffnut taking the lead and Fishlegs falling behind, all as usual. Astrid took up the rear, looking behind her occasionally to be certain there was no threat trailing them.

"You know, Astrid," Snotlout began as he slowed his pace to match her, "once this whole thing is over, we could..."

She opened her mouth to tell him off, but she accidentally inhaled a huge amount of smoke and ended up coughing instead. Snotlout reached out as if to pat her back, but she held up a firm hand. Just as she had climbed over a huge boulder that lay at the entrance to the woods, she heard a long scream coming from the village.

She turned around and brandished her mother's axe, ready to jump back over the boulder and run into the village to defend whoever needed assistance. Then she saw a figure being chased by a huge Monstrous Nightmare.

Long, lanky arms and legs and...Oh, gods. He was out.

When did he escape?

She hoisted herself onto the boulder, but Ruffnut grabbed her arm. "Are you crazy?" the Thorston girl hissed. "It's a Monstrous Nightmare!"

"He needs help!" Astrid said.

"Just leave him," Snotlout said in an offhanded way. "He might not make it, but that will save us a bunch of trouble."

Astrid watched as Hiccup pressed himself against the huge beam that held up one of the giant torches and turned to Snotlout to ask him how he could be so calloused.

"But...If she lets Hiccup die," Fishlegs began, "who's going to be the next chief?"

"Duh!" Snotlout rolled his eyes and pointed his thumb at his chest. "My dad's second in command! Obviously, me!"

Astrid turned back around. She absolutely had to save Hiccup. Her sanity was at stake. And the future of Berk, which was vastly more important. She hauled herself on top of the boulder and almost jumped down, but she stopped when she saw the huge form of their chief grab the beast by the horns and throw it to the ground.

He had the situation covered.

Astrid sat down on the rock to watch.

The dragon spat a small amount of fire and then looked at Stoick sheepishly.

"He's all out," she murmured.

Stoick ran forward and punched the Nightmare square in the jaw.

"He's amazing," Fishlegs whispered behind her.

Astrid nodded.

The other kids gathered to the side of the boulder to watch the brief scuffle between Stoick and the dragon. After a few moments, the beast launched itself into the sky and flew away. Stoick turned around and looked at the burning beam.

Tuffnut shook his head. "He's so gonna get it."

The beam could not take the weight, and the charred wood collapsed on itself before falling over. The torch came loose and fell down the carefully constructed scaffolding along the cliffside. With each crash, Hiccup visibly winced.

"Sorry...Dad."

Snotlout cackled. "Boy, is he ever!"

Astrid sighed. Hiccup had abandoned his post at the forge and had left an absurd amount of destruction in his wake. Hardly unusual. When would he learn his place?

The villagers slowly made their way to the town square.

Hiccup looked at the horizon as dragons carried off their spoils: yaks, chickens, fish, and a whole net of sheep. "Ok," he said in his awkward, nasal mumble, "but I hit a Night Fury."

Astrid groaned. Was he really going to try to pull it off again?

Stoick clearly had the same thoughts, as he merely grabbed his son by the collar of his shirt and dragged him up the hill.

"Gah...It's not like the last few times, Dad!" Hiccup protested, though he put up very little resistance. Or maybe he was resisting, but his attempts were so futile one would never notice. "I mean, I really actually hit it! You guys were busy, and I had a very clear shot!"

Tuffnut leaned in to Ruffnut. "Are we really going to hear this again?"

"It went down just off Raven Point. Let's get a search party out there before it–"

"Stop!" Stoick shouted.

Hiccup pressed his lips together and looked around, as if beseeching some sort of help.

Stoick sighed. "Just...stop. Every time you step outside, disaster follows!"

"Couldn't agree more," Snotlout said as he leaned close to Astrid's face.

She roughly shoved him back.

"Can you not see that I have bigger problems? Winter is almost here and I have an entire village to feed!"

Hiccup lowered his voice slightly and bobbed forward while giving a slight shrug. "Eh, between you and me, the village could do with a little less feeding, don't you think?"

Astrid coughed to suppress a laugh. It was a bit funny, but the most humourous part was the horrified reactions of the Berkians, who patted their stomachs and looked at each other as if to ask that the obvious affront be contradicted.

"This isn't a joke, Hiccup!" Stoick snapped. "Why can't you follow the simplest orders?"

Gobber walked up behind the boy.

"I-I can't stop myself! I see a dragon and I have to just..." Hiccup mimed screwing a large object and then pushed his hands across his chest, as if breaking something. "Kill it." He raised his arms weakly. "It's who I am, Dad."

Stoick groaned and put his head in his hand. "You are many things, Hiccup. But a dragon killer is not one of them." He shook his head. "Get back to the house." He looked at Gobber. "Make sure he gets there." As the older blacksmith smacked the apprentice in the back of the head, Stoick continued, "I have his mess to clean up."

Hiccup approached the group of teens and kept his head down.

Ruffnut started laughing as Tuffnut sneered, "Quite the performance."

"I have never seen anyone mess up that badly," Snotlout remarked. He gestured to the village. "That helped!"

"Yes, thank you," Hiccup called sarcastically as he passed the boulder Astrid sat on. "I was trying."

Astrid looked down at her axe and stood up. The whole situation was a bit sad, but Hiccup needed to learn. They all had places they needed to be, and his was not fighting dragons. It was in the forge, where he could use his skills to sharpen blades.

She did not want to think about it anymore.

Her family would be headed back to the house for a morning meal before starting to help repair the town. She should get home and help her mother with the cooking, return the axe, maybe ask for permission to go train later...

"Anyway, Astrid, I was thinking that all of us should go train in the woods later," Snotlout said. "Or maybe just you and I could–"

"Everyone training together sounds great," Astrid said. "After midday?" She looked at Ruffnut who shrugged. "Great."

She looked out at the village and sighed before jumping off the rock and heading home, making her way around charred remains. "Just great."

I got very lazy at the end there...

Now, I know that in the original one-shot I explained a bit of why I had written it, but not the entire motivation behind why I had chosen Astrid's point of view. See, I admire her. I really do. I can easily empathize with her, but because the film is so Hiccup-Toothless focused, we do not see very much of her side of things. I don't think she is nearly as fleshed out as she could be, and that makes her change of mind about Hiccup seem...abrupt to some. Almost unbelievable. Like the typical bitchy girl's "Oh, the nerd is cool now so I'm going to pay attention to him." Or just the typical love-interest, and nothing more. It really did not do her justice, and I think the creators could have played with her so much more (I hope they do in the next films, and that they get a bit deeper into her character in the show). So, I used my limited theatre major skills to get into her mind, work out her character and her motivations and see how on earth she could have gone from her previous attitude about Hiccup to the one she had at the end of the film. And I think I did a decent job. Maybe not the best, but decent. But I was not by any means finished with her. Because if there's one thing theatre and character work has taught me, its that you can ALWAYS go deeper. Every person has a history, even if you have to make it up. Every character has a home, a life, even if it's not portrayed, its important. And just because it's not portrayed does not make the character any less important. And it's actually just fine that she's not as developed as I would like, because she still asserts her own agency; plus, I get to mess with her and find out what that agency is. So I decided that I had to give her a voice and a life and a mind, because my inner actress was being annoying. And now I'm giving her a history. And now I'm rambling...

All that to say, since I'm planning to really get deep into her character, the Romantic Flight scene may change just a bit to include more thought. This Time, For Sure will continue to stay up as is, though.

I've basically got every scene for this already written...in my head. The trick will be getting it to a text document as a cohesive piece. Plus, I have other projects and school stuff that I'm working on, so this is not exactly at the top of my priority list. I make no promises about finish dates, just that there will be one.

Who else is psyched for "Vikings" this Sunday? History Channel. New series on the Vikings. Be there.

Again, just this once, I am asking for reviews as a belated birthday gift. Never again. I will never ask for reviews again.