Change


So, I was watching 'Race to Fireworm Island' and the way Snotlout looked at Astrid when she rested a hand on his shoulder gave me the sudden and very strong head canon that they had been friends pre-movie, and that he'd liked her for two or three years before, and that her rejection was the reason he became so...him. I staunchly believe that almost every person has to have a reason behind their actions - otherwise, they're not an interesting or relatable character. But my other head canon, that Hiccup liked Astrid from when he was about five or six to the movie, also fit very well into this story, so there's a tiny bit at the beginning where I talk about that. I could totally see adorable little ten-year-old Hiccup begging Snotlout, 'don't tell her I like her, please!' xD


Astrid had always been a pretty girl.

In fact, after Snotlout's cousin, Hiccup or whatever his name was, had met her, it had taken him two years to work up the nerve to talk to her, and Snotlout teased him about this every chance he got.

He'd often blackmail his seven-year-old cousin with the fact that Hiccup thought the girl was an absolute angel, and, by the time Hiccup was old enough to really understand why he felt so nervous around a girl, he proceeded to beg Snotlout to keep his mouth shut.

This Snotlout did, but only because if he didn't, then he had no leverage over his cousin anymore, and thus he couldn't rope the younger boy into doing things for him to make him keep quiet.

Snotlout often snorted disbelievingly whenever he saw Hiccup's eyes grow all big, whenever he saw his face go redder than his hair, and whenever he heard him sputter weakly, "H-hi, A-astrid…"

But when Astrid and Snotlout turned twelve, he suddenly understood what made Hiccup go so nervous. Why had he never noticed that Astrid's hair wasn't yellow, it was pale gold? Why had he always called her eyes 'blue' when they were the perfect mix of sky and ocean? And why, oh, why, had he always snorted at his cousin going weak in the knees for this girl when she was clearly an angel of the highest kind?

Snotlout had joked with this girl, laughed with her, grown up talking to her as naturally as if they were brother and sister.

So why did he suddenly think things about her that brothers most definitely did not think about sisters?

It was the lowest form of humiliation to know he had fallen victim to the same weakness that had haunted his poor cousin, but luckily, Snotlout had no older boy to tease him about it and he intended to keep it that way.

He tucked this secret deep inside and swore to himself nobody would ever know about it, most of all, Astrid herself.

And then one day, things changed between them. They sat talking at the edge of the forest one day, both now fourteen years old, and Snotlout was getting nervous. He had kept his crush on Astrid a secret for two years and it was probably his best-kept one. He was starting to think that maybe it didn't have to be such a secret. Maybe he could tell Astrid how much he liked her. He had seen other boys in the village do it to her and other girls; they'd smoothly slide their hands around the girl's waist, they'd say a smooth pick-up line, and put their mouth to hers…

And that's where Snotlout's brain refused to think any longer, because, despite all his big talk that he could have any girl he wanted, he had never actually kissed a girl before, and he had certainly never told them that he liked them.

The idea of doing it to Astrid was enough to make his cheeks heat and his knees turn to jelly – and that was just thinking about it.

He couldn't imagine how hard it would be to actually pull it off.

But he intended to do it – he was just waiting for the right moment…no, now wasn't the right time…better wait another ten minutes…

"Hey, uh, Astrid— he began, but she had just started ranting about something or other and he didn't want to interrupt.

"They're driving me crazy!" she cried, ending her speech and she turned to Snotlout hopefully. "You get what I'm saying, don't you?"

He blinked. "Huh?"

"The boys!" Astrid said in an annoyed voice. "They're always flirting with me and trying to kiss me! It's like, I'm fourteen years old and I'm training to be a Viking! I don't have time for boys, for Thor's sake!"

"Oh." Snotlout's heart sank. "Yeah."

"You're the only person I trust to not just suddenly lean over and—

Snotlout shut her up by planting one on her. He wasn't exactly sure how to go about it now that their lips were connected, but he trusted that would take care of itself, because the important thing was actually getting his lips on hers.

He heard her make a sound in the back of her throat and suddenly she was pushing him away, her hand on his chest.

She was breathing heavily, but the look in her eyes told Snotlout this was not a good sign; in fact, she was probably going to go home and brush her teeth, he thought miserably.

She stared at him for a few seconds longer, fiddling with her braid. "—lean over and plant one on me," she said, in a determinedly casual voice. "Just like that."

"Astrid…" he stared at the grass. "I…I like you. But I'm not like the other boys in the village, I'm really not." He looked up at her earnestly. "Honest. I like you for who you are. Everybody else just looks at you and sees beauty, but I see brains and heart and bravery, too."

"Yeah," she replied. "Sure." She stood up and dusted herself off, though Snotlout saw nothing wrong with her clothing. She tugged self-consciously at the hem of her blue striped shirt, and glanced at him a little awkwardly. "I, uh…I'm kind of tired, actually. I think I'll just…go home."

"Astrid—

"Look, Snotlout." She turned to him, her blue eyes carrying the warmth of friendship, but nothing else. "I like you, I really do. You're my best friend. But…I'm sorry. I don't see you that way. I'm a Viking. I'm…I'm not interested. If you want, we can be friends. But…I'm sorry. Nothing else."

"Oh…right…yeah, yeah, of…of course not," Snotlout managed weakly, and Astrid nodded.

She turned and walked away.

Things were never quite the same between them after that.

Astrid liked Snotlout, she really did, but he became cocky and arrogant overnight; he flirted with every girl he laid eyes on, and he was downright mean to his cousin, who Astrid had always kind of pitied.

By the time he was sixteen, he had dated every girl his age in the village at least once, with enough time for multiple break-ups and off-again-on-again relationships.

When he started in on Astrid, it angered her. He was worse than the other boys who liked her, not because they had once been friends, but because he was flirting with her because she was the only girl he hadn't yet dated, and he was determined to change that.

The way he looked at her still carried the warm affection that he'd never shown with other girls, but she never thought to look up and see that.

To her, his flattery and flirtatious words didn't feel special or romantic; they felt airy, fake and practiced.

If he had understood the meaning behind his affectionate words, she was sure he would not throw them out so casually like that, especially not to her.

She was rather hurt to see how much her friend had changed and she never once thought that, out of all the girls he'd so carefully tricked into dating him, she was the only who he really wanted after all.