Title: Sticks and Stones
Summary: Hiccup decides to take a stand. And fails miserably.
Pairing(s): Astrid/Hiccup
Words: 1, 122
Dedication(s)&A/N: Alli-Sue. This is so belated, I don't even. And it's not even what you asked for! You should just straight up divorce me, yo.

The imbalance of power only really occurred to Hiccup when he was making dinner.

He had been delicately carving the fish, making sure to remove every little bone – as per Astrid's request – when he realised it. (Actually, he realised they were out of salt first – and tasteful napkins – and had a quiet moment to mourn the bland decor and cruelty of the world. But he swiftly recovered.)

"Toothless, I think I am the wife." The dragon, who had been happily chewing the bottom step of the stairs, shot upright, blinking innocently at the abrupt address. "No, really!" Hiccup continued, oblivious to the wood chippings now scattered across his perfectly waxed floor.

(He would know, he waxed it.)

"I mean, how many times has Astrid cooked me dinner?"

Toothless chattered, pawing nervously at the floor as Hiccup neared his latest mess.

"Exactly, none!" Hiccup punctuated his statement with a particularly wild arm flail, sending an unfortunate fish head spiralling into the air. Both dragon and Viking stared as the surprised looking cod flopped against the wall, sliding down with a dull hiss. Toothless nattered, expression suggesting he would probably eat that if Hiccup didn't pick it up.

"Also..." Hiccup continued, spinning back round to stab at the next fish on the slab. "She never asks for my opinions on clan matters, I mean, I am the actual tribe leader right?" He turned to Toothless, who blinked owlishly for a few seconds, before realising this was not a trick question and nodding furiously in support.

"Uh-huh, I'm the one who inherited, I am the one who defeated the Great Dragon-" Toothless snorted indignantly. "-helped defeat-" a furious squawk. "-was present at the defeat of the Great Dragon." Hiccup turned to face the dragon, who tittered merrily at the amendment, before continuing with his tale of epic woe. "Why does she get to be the one who decides when we get to go to war?"

Hiccup huffed imperiously, tipping the fish into the boiling pot. "Furthermore, I have to mend her armour when she damages it, and sew up her leather, and clothes, and...and something else I'm sure!" Toothless managed a low rumble in support, too busy chewing on the abandoned fish head to offer anything more thought provoking.

"This isn't right...I mean, I was the first Viking to ride a dragon, right? That has to count for something!" He stirred the broth, scowling at the liquid as though it had personally slapped his ancestors in the face. "When she gets back, I am going to tell her exactly how I feel. I'm holding nothing back; I'm going to let her know I will no longer stand for such vile abuse!"

"Who is suffering from vile abuse?"

"Oh, it should be obvious really Astrid." Hiccup replied easily, before stiffening up in horror. "Astrid!" He cried, spinning wildly, sloshing a rather hearty portion of dinner across the stove. It hissed brilliantly, the sudden rush of steam against Hiccup's back causing him to stumble forward, slipping on Toothless' wood chippings.

After a few rather spectacular minutes of flailing – in which Astrid and Toothless shared a brief, silent and slightly despairing connection – Hiccup finally made it back into gravity's good graces and turned to his wife in a mix of fear and forced happiness.

"Astrid!" He repeated, tone only slightly hysterical.

"Yes, and you are Hiccup." Toothless snarled slightly, irises narrowed to dangerous, cat-like slits. "And that is Toothless," Astrid added blandly, rolling her eyes skyward as the dragon slumped back down in contentment, rumbling deep in his chest. "Now, what did you want to tell me?"

Hiccup swallowed, deliberating his response, before steeling his resolve and inflating with newly developed pride. He raised his spatula, pointing it at the rather unsurprised looking Astrid. "Woman!" He began, quailing slightly as Astrid narrowed her eyes, swinging her mace up, and bringing the smooth steel back down onto her palm. "...sweetums..." He amended, losing some of his initial resolve.

"Yes, dear?" The way Astrid said dear, suggested Hiccup was more of a wobbling fawn, caught in the sights of her crossbow, as opposed to any kind of term of endearment.

"Er...well..." Hiccup dallied a little bit, hands twisting and flailing in midair as he attempted to summon some kind of strong argument. "Look Astrid, the thing is...I feel I'm a bit too...domestic in this relationship, and it's not really fair..." Hiccup decided to look at the spot next to Astrid's head whilst he was talking, it was far safer. He had been told she'd once melted a man's face off with her glare alone.

He did not wish to test the theory.

Astrid however – when he chanced a look – was not glaring. No, not at all. In fact she seemed...amused.

"Is that what you were rambling about?" Hiccup nodded, shrugging helplessly. "Hiccup, do you remember when I first cooked for you?" Hiccup blinked, arching an eyebrow, and Astrid elaborated. "Probably not, you did spend the rest of the evening writhing on the floor, clutching your stomach, begging the maker to remove the 'foul cocktail of pure culinary evil.'"

Hiccup blinked again, very intelligently. "...I think you'll find it was foul and loathsome." He corrected, but he did see his wife's point. She was a one woman destruction team in the kitchen.

"Also, remember when I tried to decorate our room? And give Toothless a makeover?" Hiccup shuddered slightly.

"Skulls are not tasteful, also, whenever I went to sleep all I could see was a dragon head."

"It was to ward off evil spirits."

"I felt like I was going to be sacrificed to some kind of evil deity!" Hiccup protested, backed up by a snarl from Toothless. "Also, Toothless is a Night Fury, did he really need that axe strapped onto his tail?" Hiccup didn't give Astrid a chance to answer. "No, no he did not!"

Astrid laughed. "See? You actually banned me from these things, Hiccup." She dropped the mace, and it clanged noisily, landing in the dent already formed from her prior abandonment of her weapon of choice. "Besides," she added, smiling that same sweet smile she usually reserved just for him. "I don't want you getting hurt, you're a shrimp still, the enemy could sneeze and you'd probably shatter."

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "Wow, that was almost a nice moment."

Astrid snickered again, tossing her helmet off and not caring as it shattered the vase of perfectly arranged flowers. "Come on dear," she drawled, throwing the rather surprised Hiccup over her shoulder with effortless ease. "I've been rather lonely for the duration of that war~"

Hiccup rolled his eyes, resigned to his fate.

But the minute he got pregnant he was seriously going to file a divorce.