Not All That Glitters Is Gold

Prologue

"Whoa. What happened to Hiccup?" Tuffnut asked after the painting had been revealed.

"Who cares?" Astrid replied dreamily.

000

If there was one thing Hiccup wasn't, it was buff. Hiccup had more of a wiry, lean frame, instead of the "bursting with muscles" frame. So seeing that picture show what he would look like if he was. Ahhhhh. It was a very nice image. That was why, when Bucket was going to put up the new, more accurate version, Astrid had taken the older one and snuck it back to her room, if only to preserve that. And if she happen to gaze at the shield for a bit longer than what would be accepted as a passing glance, no one was there to stop her.

It didn't matter that in the next couple days, she would look at the boy atop his Night Fury and think to herself that the picture was slightly more preferable. It wasn't anyone's business that when he asked if she wanted to go flying, she had told him that she was busy and gone home to gaze at the painting. No one needed to know that on the second night, she had dreamed about the alternate boy hovering over her, breathing hot puffs of air on her neck, overall getting her very hot, and leading to muffled moans and gasps, followed by a soft cry after she had woken up.

It was on the third night, with the shield hanging on the wall at the foot of her bed, that she thought to herself, "I would love it, if you were real."

In the end, it wasn't of any consequence, because he wasn't real and the one that was real wasn't anywhere near the man she had made the one on the shield out to be. The real one couldn't throw an axe with her. The real one couldn't swing a hammer with her. The real one couldn't do any of the things that he could. She was beginning to resent the real one.

And it was showing.

It showed when she chose Fishlegs over him as a partner. It should when she placed Stormfly between them. It showed when she refused to hang out with him for any excuse, what-so-ever. She showed when she went so far as to rush to Snotlout when he had said they would be flying patrols in pairs. He had ended up flying alone.

And on the fifth night, after the patrols and the hurt looks that were cast her way and the detestful ones thrown at him, she thought to herself, "I wish you were real."

But it wasn't of any consequence. It wouldn't happen.