The sequel to Smile As You Kill!

This is one of those 90% plot / 10% smut kind of stories. So, if you're looking for a PWP, I cannot provide.

I hope you enjoy, and please leave me a review once you're finished. I'd like to know what you thought of this 7.500 word monster! This was certainly one of the toughest stories I've ever written from a challenge standpoint. :)

Good Hunting

Never let it be said that Astrid would gladly back away from a challenge. Where there was redemption to be found, Astrid wanted it. She wanted it yesterday.

And as she stared hungrily at those still parted lips – lips that promised of a second chance – Astrid knew that this was the final step along the precipice that would inevitably lead her to her deliverance. Or ruin.

Either way, the cards were in his hands now.

Astrid knew a dismissal when she saw one, as much as she hated the gesture. He waited for her to digest his words and nod in acquiescence before turning and limping back to his work desk, covered in a million-and-one unfinished projects just waiting to be unleashed. She swallowed uncomfortably at the notion and silently backpedalled out of the room, only vaguely thankful for the painless retreat.

She shut the door as discreetly as she could manage and stared vacantly at the knots in the bourbon coloured wood. Eyes glazed and unfocused, they seemed to churn like little hurricanes in a sandy wasteland, causing her to lurch on her feet. She shook her head violently, as if trying to shake sea water from her ears.

Great. Now she was seeing things.

Before she could drive herself further into insanity, Astrid spun around and quickly shuffled down the stairs. She glanced idly by the pickled vegetables she had left on the table not twenty minutes earlier but her hunger had all but disappeared, having been replaced by a feeling she wasn't entirely familiar with churning in the pit of her stomach.

She missed the days where her emotions had been almost inexistent, like a memory almost forgotten in the back of her mind. She could kill things, maim things, hurt things without an ounce of guilt and now...now things were different. Her emotionality was constantly at the forefront of her mind, and nothing, not even near-suicide could get it to go away.

Because he'd always be there to save her.

She didn't know how he had managed to find her in the snowstorm the night prior, but she was thankful for it anyway. She wanted to ask him, she wanted to say thank you, but she wasn't sure when she would get the chance to actually speak with him again. After that ambiguous parting, Astrid wasn't sure of anything. And if it was one thing she despised, it was being left in the dark.

She lowered herself onto her knees and wrapped a few of the blankets around her body to keep her comfortable. The fire was still burning strong but it was beginning to feel as if all of the warmth had been sucked out of her soul; she'd never felt so exhausted in all her life. The ache of her strenuous hypothermic rendezvous was beginning to burn deep within her muscles and every motion of her body was starting to become near torture. She let herself collapse onto one side and curled up into a ball, prepared indefinitely for sleep.

The next morning arrived far sooner than she would have liked. She was roused abruptly by the sound of a cast iron pan slamming against the wooden floor, and the loud curse that accompanied it.

"Sorry," a familiar voice hissed, seeing her stir from her cocoon of woollen blankets, "Stupid pans."

She rolled onto her stomach and opened her eyes slowly, peering upwards towards the galley where the voice had originated from. The only thing she could see was a sock covered foot and the peg of a wooden crutch from her vantage point, the rest being obscured by the counter. She heard him shuffle slightly in order to bend down and grab the lid of the pan; his skin was flushed pink with embarrassment and pain.

She pushed herself into a sitting position and shifted slightly so that she could see what he was doing. He tossed the retrieved lid onto another section of the countertop and took the bottom half of the pan between his gloved hands, inverting it onto the wood. When he lifted the heavy iron pot again, he revealed a circular loaf of seed bread, browned to perfection.

"Sorry for waking you," he mumbled, placing the empty pan by its renegade top, "The storm has passed for the most part. I'll get you some breakfast and then we can go."

She nodded wordlessly and gathered the blankets around her body, feeling uncomfortably useless. Hiccup could bake? The thought struck her as strange at first, but quickly started to make sense. He had basically raised himself, after all.

Before she could return to her senses, Hiccup had somehow materialized on the other side of the counter, holding out his hand and silently offering her help to her feet. She grasped his fingers with her own and allowed him to drag her over to the table, where a plate of warm bread and bakeapple preserves was placed in front of her. She stared at the plate for a moment, before staring back at Hiccup whose expression had turned into one of mirth.

"My cooking won't kill you," he smirked slightly, breaking himself off his own piece of bread. He smeared the portion with the preserves and started eating quietly, smiling slightly as he did so. Astrid, upon watching Hiccup enjoy the fruit of his labours, broke down and took a bite.

As she continued to power though her breakfast, Astrid couldn't help but feel a little jealous; he was a much better cook than she was.

"You're a much better cook than I am," she said between bites, without really realizing what she was saying. She clamped her hands over her mouth once her words had reached her own ears, and slumped slightly in her foolishness.

If Hiccup had noticed her initial discomfort, he chose to ignore it, "I had to be," he said, "The only thing my father can cook properly is blackened fish and honestly, it's embarrassing to watch."

She sniggered slightly despite herself, "Why's that?"

Hiccup scoffed, leaning over conspiratorially towards her, "He likes to sing when he's cooking," Astrid laughed a little more as he continued, "He tells me that he's going to make his "gourmet" meal and herds me into my room so I don't disturb him. And then he starts singing, and trust me, it's the worst thing you've ever heard."

He had effectively broken the ice, and for this Hiccup was glad. It had been a long time since he had seen anything but a mask of blank expressions on Astrid's visage, and the small smile gracing her features was revitalizing.

Once they were finished eating, Astrid took the incentive to gather the plates in her hands and clear the table. She cleaned them off with a damp cloth and placed them back onto the shelf alongside the other unused platters, and thanked him quietly for the meal. He brushed it off as nothing, all too surprised at her sudden openness, but didn't question it.

He finished tidying the kitchen and motioned her over to the door, handing her a myriad of cloaks he knew he could probably do without. He disappeared as she slowly tugged them onto her aching body, trying not to pay attention to his muffled groaning as he strapped on his prosthetic. She wanted to say something as he limped with a considerable amount of trouble back towards the doorway, but she couldn't find it within herself to even say a word.

He wrapped his own furs around his body and, after making sure she was properly dressed, wrenched open the front door. The sun was blinding from the reflection on the snow and they both had to cover their eyes with the sleeves of their cloaks. Sighing, Hiccup urged Astrid to make her way into the snow and then closed the door with a grunt, wishing fruitlessly for winter to be over already.

He led the way through the nearly waist deep drifts of snow through the uppermost village, pausing only once to regain his sense of direction. Houses were practically buried under metres upon metres of snow and the paths to the lower village were becoming more difficult to find as they journeyed towards the modest Hofferson household.

After what seemed like an endless trek through the huge snow dunes that practically threatened to swallow the village of Berk, Hiccup eyed the familiar crooked chimney smoking profusely in the distance. He quickened his pace, eager to get both himself and Astrid out of the cold, and bunkered down for the last leg of their freezing hike through the snow.

"Mr. Hofferson?" Hiccup banged on the half submerged door with his gloved fist, "Mr. Hofferson?"

Within a few seconds the door was flung open and he was nearly pushed to the ground as Mrs. Hofferson came barrelling through the exit at her daughter. The retired warrior wrapped her arms around Astrid and nearly strangled her to death in an embrace, swearing and blessing every deity she could think of simultaneously. Hiccup pulled himself from one of the dunes flanking the lodge and tried to brush himself off in an attempt to look at least somewhat presentable as Mr. Hofferson came to the doorway, rushing his daughter and wife inside.

Astrid didn't try and fight against her mother's unearthly grip, nor did she try and escape it. She deserved it frankly and she knew it; she couldn't let her selfishness keep getting in the way. She had to try and react or repent or something for her mother – she had to show her family that she was sorry, and that she would do better, be better.

But gods, it was so hard to do when all she wanted was to clam up and act like a dead fish in her mother's arms.

And as she ascended the stairs to the upper levels of her home, she tried to hear the conversation at the doorway above her mother's hushed scolding but found it nearly impossible to do. She peered fleetingly over her shoulder as she made it to the second floor and was only able to make out the tuft of ruddy scarlet hair glinting brightly in the winter sun.

"...meeting at the Great Hall?"

Hiccup shifted imperceptibly, having mastered the art of hiding the anguish his foot was causing him, "This afternoon, as long as everyone can dig themselves out of their homes. The lodges near the Northern cliffs were hit the worst – I'll have to talk to Spitelout about getting them dug out."

"So you've been left in charge then."

It was more of a statement than a question, which sparked a tiny glint of pride deep in Hiccup's chest, "For the most part. With Dad stuck on Freezing-To-Death for Thor knows how long, I really had no choice but to step up and help run the village."

Astrid's father nodded once, as if digesting his words, and then let his arms slowly hang at his sides. The older warrior took a small step backwards and immediately he was cast in a bank of shadows, making his already weathered features look even more haggard than they already did.

"She hasn't been acting herself lately," he muttered, running a hand over his tired expression, "Not even her mother can get through to her."

Hiccup tried to hide his alarm at the man's sudden disclosure, fidgeting slightly so that his gaze could discreetly fall to the floor, "I'm sorry sir. I tried my best to help."

He nodded again, this time with a slightly more resolute expression, "See if you can try and..." he wrung his hands together, eyes stained with worry, "I can't lose another daughter."

Hiccup forced himself to stay calm in the wake of the veteran warrior's confession. He stood as still as a statue, afraid that any movement on his part might be the catalyst to a full on breakdown.

"You've been the only one," he continued quietly, "who's managed to break any sort of ground with her. Once your father returns, I ask that you find some time between your training to bring her back from whatever spell Loki has cast upon her."

"Of course sir," Hiccup replied solemnly and nodded, "Anything it takes."

A week had passed since Hiccup had stood upon the doorstep of the Hofferson home, faced with a responsibility that he was both flattered and nervous to accept. His role as chieftain was not as dreadful as he had initially imagined, but a few extra visits to Astrid now that his father had returned would be a nice respite to the madness. He was sitting with him now, locked in the middle of an interrogation session between Gobber, Spitelout and himself. He hadn't been listening to most of what was being said, save the initial courtesies where his father had expressed his utmost enthusiasm at his son's diplomatically savvy tendencies.

Hiccup was having a hard time following the conversation, mostly because of the familiar silhouette of the woman that had been plaguing his thoughts for the past week in a half, looming like a forgotten soul in the corner of the Great Hall.

"Hiccup? Are yeh listenin'?"

The young chieftain-to-be jolted back to reality with a start and nearly leapt out of his seat at the sound of his father's booming voice. He turned around and dipped his head, trying not to look as sheepish as he felt, "Sorry Dad. Long day, you know."

Unbeknownst to Stoic, Gobber raised both his eyebrows in an expression of utmost incredulity. Stoic, however, was unable to see the blacksmith's ridiculous eyebrow acrobatics and merely put his hand on his son's shoulder and nodded, "Right, err. Well, off teh bed wit' yeh then."

"Thanks...uh, good night. See you back at the house," Hiccup replied with barely contained relief, pushing himself off of the bench and stretching his back. His father nodded and then turned back to his two confidants, jumping right back in to where the conversation had cut off.

Satisfied that his father was fully immersed in Spitelout's report on the submerged marina, he didn't waste any time. He crossed the hall as inconspicuously as he could manage, sticking close to the shadows of the Hall in an attempt to avoid Gobber's poignantly obvious glare.

When he finally closed in on her and sat down beside her, he wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself. She was almost unbearably sullen, and the expression on her face made him shiver to the marrow.

"Hey...err, Astrid," he blurted out lamely, and he nearly slapped himself in the face for sounding like such a bumbling idiot. Why was he not over the awkward, fumbling days when he always seemed to make an ass out of himself every time he opened his mouth—

"Hey Hiccup."

The young rider promptly stopped his train of thought and froze for a good five seconds, surprised that she had even replied to him. He ran his fingers through his shaggy hair and tried to think of some sort of intelligent response before he lost her attention all together.

"How – how are you feeling?"

She shifted slightly on the bench and prodded gently at the untouched meal in front of her, "I've still got a bit of a cold, but it's nothing serious, nothing I can't handle."

"I..." he paused, choosing his words carefully, "I'm glad to hear it."

The silence stretched on, and Hiccup truly felt as if he were walking on pins and needles around her. Why was it so hard to make a decent conversation with her? They were just friends now, nothing romantic between them, at least not anymore. This kind of thing should be easy.

Hiccup swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat and bit down on the proverbial blade, "Will you be coming to this year's Jul Eve festival?" [1]

Astrid didn't respond for a moment, and Hiccup was afraid she had chosen to ignore him, "My parents will drag me along, I'm sure."

"Well that's not exactly fair," he replied, earning a subtle nod from the girl who still hadn't torn her eyes from a peculiar char mark in the wall. He sighed quietly and ran his fingers through his hair again, wishing he could bash Loki over the head for turning his Astrid into a half dead zombie.

Wait, what? His Astrid? Wait...

"Life isn't fair, apparently."

Hiccup mentally stomped on wherever his thoughts were going and shoved them towards the back of his mind, fearfully hoping that he would forget about whatever ridiculousness had just passed through his brain, "Well, since when has life been fair to anyone? That's just the way the world works unfortunately – you play with the hand you're dealt, that kind of thing."

She finally turned her head towards him, giving him a look that clearly stated that she thought he was crazy, "What are you talking about?"

"What do you mean?"

"The 'hand dealing' thing. What do hands have to do with life?"

"It's a figure of speech, you know, playing cards and stuff. Haven't you ever played Go Fish?"

"Huh?"

"Obviously not," Hiccup sighed, feeling more and more like a dunce with each passing second, "Well how about this then: life is like a raid. You win, you lose, you fight with whatever weapon you can get your hands on. But as long as you stay confident, and clear, you'll make it out a lot richer than you came in. That better?"

"I guess...I kind of understand what you're saying. But what does treasure and riches have to do with it?"

Hiccup tried his hardest not to lose his grip on his patience. Sometimes he wondered if he was born in the wrong civilisation, "Every time you go through something, you learn something right?"

"I...I suppose, yeah."

"Well the comparison that I'm trying to make is that every time you go through something – and it could be anything really, as long as it affects your life – you come out of it with more experience than you did before. And the lessons that you learn make you a better person."

"You're starting to lose me..."

"Life lessons equals better person. Learn from your mistakes, don't wait around for life to change. Choose to change your life instead."

"Oh."

Hiccup shook his head. Vikings.

"Would you be happier if I invited you to the Jul Eve celebrations? You know, together? We'd go as friends, obviously."

Astrid tipped her head slightly, considering his offer, "I'd like that."

"Good, err...great," he stammered, amazed that she actually agreed to his offer, "Well...I've uh, I've got an early start tomorrow, and I best be getting home soon. So I'll...I'll see you later."

"See ya," she graced him with a small smile as he lifted himself from the bench and balanced on his feet. He wished her goodnight and started off towards the Hall's large exit, pausing only to tap Fishlegs on the shoulder and whisper something quickly by his ear. He continued on and waited at the doorway until Fishlegs had sat himself across the table from Astrid and then slipped out into the winter snow, hopeful that a little socialisation would make her a little less disheartened. Encouraged, he turned on his heel and headed home.

Before he knew it, the Yule celebration morning had bounded its way towards Hiccup like a slobbering beast, leaving him more than considerably flustered. He ripped through his chest of drawers looking for something that would look marginally suitable for the evening's festivities, without making him appear like a clown. It didn't help that his own personal slobbering beast had taken it upon himself to bathe him that morning, covering him in a slimy film of dragon saliva that smelt of rotten fish.

"Odin's eye," he grumbled, throwing his soiled tunic into a hamper into the corner of his room. He felt filthy and would have drawn himself a bath if he had had the time, but Gobber was hollering for his apprentice and Hiccup had absolutely no other options.

He hurried home from the smithy as the sun began its decent over the horizon, his nervousness still unwavering as he watched a group of townsfolk in their best armour and furs corralling by one of the dragon stables. He didn't have any armour; in fact, there probably wasn't any armour in the entire village small enough to fit him.

He sighed and continued towards his home on the uppermost hill of the village, flexing his biceps beneath his furs in an attempt to make himself feel slightly more self-assured about his feeble appearance. He grunted as he started to trudge up the incline – the only thing he had going for him was his seemingly endless growth spurt and even that wasn't much of a positive. It meant having to constantly readjust his leg and having to suffer through embarrassing, but entirely necessary fitting sessions by the widow Thorston. The village seamstress was not unlike her children Ruffnut and Tuffnut, who like her didn't know when to keep their comments about his gangly physique to themselves.

He burst into his house and tromped up the stairs, chewing painfully on the inside of his cheek. Tonight was for Astrid – it was a chance to get her back into the social world, a chance to get her mingling and having fun instead of locking herself in her room.

Then why did he feel like he was taking her on a date?

Hiccup groaned and buried his face in a handful of tunics, muffling his griping frustrations. This was not a date. This was for Astrid. Astrid needed to get better. He would see to it that she did.

Finally satisfied with his appearance, Hiccup scampered down the stairs and joined his father by the hearth. Stoic smiled and patted his son on the shoulder, pleased that Hiccup was starting to get a feel for the chiefly fur cape, and quickly manhandled him out the door in the direction of the Hofferson lodge.

He knocked on her door and was relieved to see that Astrid was already ready to leave, wrapped in a layer of furs that kept her entirely sheltered from the gentle fall of snow outside. He smiled as best he could and held out his hand, only for her to bat it away. Hiccup didn't take too much offense to the gesture, happy that she was slowly returning to her feisty, resolute self.

They chatted quietly as they made their way through the cleared roads, taking their time. There was no rush to get there, and the longer Hiccup figured that he had her alone, the more he could get her to loosen up before they entered the Great Hall and immersed themselves in a sea of drunken Vikings waiting for an eight legged horse bearing gifts to come tromping through their village.

"I like your cape," she mentioned off handedly, not making eye contact as they neared the torches of the Hall, "It suits you."

"Thanks," Hiccup said, nearly knocking himself in the head for the way his voice cracked. It was doing that more and more these days, and the falsettos he was hitting were practically making the dragons run away in fear, "Excited for tonight?"

"Not really, to be honest."

Hiccup tried not to let the feeling of disappointment show on his features, "Why not?"

"I'd rather be sleeping."

"And miss all the fun? Come on, you know you've been dying to watch the entire village get wasted enough to pass out in a heap."

Astrid couldn't help but laugh, "Sounds like you're pretty excited."

"Are you kidding? I'm so excited to watch Gobber take off his pants again. Love it."

"For the love of Thor, don't remind me."

"At least you'll have my handsome face to stare at just in case he decides striptease again," he said sarcastically, mock choking at the thought. Astrid sniggered as he pretended to vomit behind a snow bank, making quite a show of it as he staggered back and forth. He bumped into her and she reacted out of instinct, wrapping her arms around his torso to try and get him to stop weaving all over the place. They laughed out loud and Astrid settled her hands around his arm as they finally made their way into the Great Hall.

The Solstice Eve celebrations ended up being just what he had expected: loud, bawdy and entirely obnoxious. If he hadn't felt so personally attached to Astrid's wellbeing, he probably would have holed himself up in a corner and hoped to Baldur that he could slip away unnoticed once everyone was too drunk to walk straight. But, things were far from normal circumstances and Hiccup found himself dragging Astrid to and fro between the clusters of townsfolk, chatting and laughing and joking amicably. Within twenty minutes he had Astrid actively involved in their chitchat banter, and Hiccup couldn't help but grin from the small success.

Astrid was looking worse for wear after about an hour or so, and Hiccup took the time to lead her back towards one of the calmer recesses of the Great hall in order to take a break. They sat down on the other side of a table already occupied by Fishlegs and a few of the younger children, who sat enraptured as the Ingerman teen described to them a thrilling tale. Astrid listened quietly as Fishlegs described how Sleipnir would gallop through the carriageways of Berk, his eight massive hooves galloping to the beat of a thunder drum. Hiccup, who had slipped away for a brief moment to fetch them both a stein of sweet mead, sat down beside her and listened in as Fishlegs completed his tale.

"Did you leave a boot full of straw at your door?" Hiccup asked jokingly, whispering in her ear so he wouldn't disrupt the storytelling.

"We're a little old to be believing in that, don't you think?" she replied just as sarcastically, sipping at her drink.

"What?" he gasped in mock horror, holding his hands to his cheeks, "You mean Sleipnir doesn't bring me gifts?"

"Pfft. How old are you? Three?"

"Sixteen actually. Still young enough to believe that Odin leaves me new mittens and candy in my boot," he grinned playfully, and Astrid shoved a hand in his face to push him away.

"You're ridiculous," she said, swallowing uncomfortably. The Great Hall was becoming more and more claustrophobic by the second, and she was starting to think that she would throw up if she didn't get out of there right away. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, "I think I've had enough for one day."

"What?" Hiccup raised an eyebrow in confusion, "You've barely been here for an hour."

"An hour's enough. I'm exhausted."

"Aw, come on Astrid," Hiccup urged, grabbing her arm as she went to get up from the bench, "The fun hasn't even started yet."

"There are too many people here. I'm bored. I hate crowds," she shook Hiccup's hand off of her forearm and got up from the table, stomping away as a flood of fury started pumping through her veins. Hiccup was taken aback by her sudden change in behaviour and leapt after her, grasping her hand before she could get any further from him.

"Let me go!" she shrieked, snatching her hand back so violently that she almost snapped his fingers. Hiccup was so stunned at the venom in her expression that he nearly reeled back in fear.

"What...what's the matter?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"I—I don't want to be here anymore okay? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"I don't understand though— five minutes ago we were laughing and joking. What happened?"

"Nothing happened! Just…gods! Leave me alone!"

She started stomping away again and Hiccup quickly realised that this was what her family had been dealing with all along. The changes in her moods were astounding, and Hiccup could do nothing but shake his head in confusion as he started to tail her again. He had thought that he had been helping, that all of the joking and laughing had been working!

Obviously, he was wrong.

"Astrid, come back!"

"No!" she snarled, glancing over her shoulder. She had the manifestation of an injured animal, rabid and enraged as he slowly started to box her in.

"Astrid," Hiccup tried to reason with her, "Let's be sensible here."

She stopped midway through her stride and nearly growled, realizing that she was finally cornered in one of the darkest crooks of the Hall, "My father put you up to this didn't he? Made you his little watchdog or something?"

"What?" Hiccup was starting to feel the telltale pulse of anger pulse through his veins and he fought desperately to rein it in, "Your father had nothing to do with this. I'm trying to help you."

"I don't need your help. I'm fine."

"You're fine? You're fine?" Hiccup took a step closer, his expression incredulous, "You tried to kill yourself three weeks ago and you're fine? You haven't spoken to any of us in months and you're fine? Astrid, what are you trying to prove?"

"Shut up," she hissed, balling her hands into fists. She looked about ready to strike when Hiccup stepped forwards and clenched her arms to her sides, effectively holding her immobile against the wall, "Let go of me!"

"No!" he fought to grasp onto her as she thrashed and kicked at him, "I'm not letting you leave until you tell me what's wrong!"

"Nothing's wrong! Now let me go!"

He sighed and shook his head, frowning as he continued to hold her in place, "Since when did you become such a quitter? The Astrid I knew – the Astrid I used to know – she never gave up. She faced everything head on, like a warrior."

He knew he had hit home as he glared at her in frustration, as much as it hurt him to watch her crumble. Nothing crushed Astrid more than the unfailing stare of disappointment. She felt her heart lurch in her chest as a million and one guilty judgements began clawing at her thoughts, slashing her from the inside. What was she becoming?

What had she become?

Hiccup had been nothing but thoughtful, helpful even. Why couldn't she just hold her tongue? Why couldn't she appreciate all that he had done for her?

"I'll never let you go," he continued, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper, "I'll stand here forever if I have to. But you have to tell me, you have to tell me what made you feel this way. What happened?"

"I...Hiccup..."

"You can trust me," he said, staring into her eyes with every ounce of persuasive intensity that he possessed, "I want to help you."

"You can't...there's nothing you can do."

"Yes there is!" he urged, loosening his grasp on her arms now that she had all but turned to jelly against the wall, "I can listen. I can be there for you. You just have to let me."

"Hiccup...you don't understand!"

"No," he took both of her hands in his and gave them a reassuring shake, "Honestly, I don't. So make me understand. Show me why you're acting like you don't want to be alive."

"I..." she turned her head away and sighed, finally realizing that there was no way out of this. She realized that, if anybody, Hiccup was the only person she could trust with her problems, even if he had initially been the one to start them all.

"Fine. Just...somewhere more private."

Hiccup smiled in victory and wrapped a protective arm over her shoulder, leading the way towards the door, "I didn't want to see Gobber get naked all that badly anyway."

The silence that encompassed both of them was comforting, rather than awkward. It gave them time to think in each other's company, which had become something of a comfortable tradition over the past few months since Jul. She reached out and took his hand in hers, sensing without actually seeing that his fingers were already outstretched in her direction. She breathed out as his hand gripped hers tightly, and found herself smiling without even trying.

Things were changing.

And all of the sudden, she didn't even mind.

The realisation was less shocking than she had previously imagined – she never thought she would feel so...so at ease again, like a child sitting by the coast, watching the Northern sun rise. How could something so seemingly simple suddenly become the very foundation of her life?

She glanced sidelong at the boy walking quietly at her side, allowing herself to drink from the angles of his jaw. He was smiling into the spring sunshine, oblivious to her prying eyes, and simply continued holding her hand with his gaze on the horizon.

The more she watched him as they travelled, the more she realized that her previous assessment of his boyhood couldn't have been any further from the truth. When had he grown so tall that her chin could barely reach the apex of his shoulder? When had his tunic become so short at the sleeves? When had his limbs become endowed with such sinewy muscles when they had been so skinny the last time she had checked?

When was the last time she had checked?

For so long he had been her faithful confidant, her rock amidst a storm at sea. Inside her own personal transformation, when had he become so...grown up?

Something she'd been feeling inside her heart for some time expanded tenfold as he passed beneath the shadow of the trees, sending the angles of his profile into sharp, glorious relief. That feeling within her clenched almost painfully inside her chest as the errant beams on sunlight continued to flit across his mahogany hair, his freckled skin, his emerald eyes.

When she slept, she dreamt of compulsion – when she slept, she dreamt of him.

"Hiccup?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you...for everything."

She paused in her stride and he hesitated in kind, stopping beside her. His face was a mixture of surprise and concern as she turned her eyes away from him, almost as if she were too afraid to face him.

"Of course," he replied without missing a beat, "But there's no need to thank me."

A crooked grin slowly began to adorn his features and Astrid couldn't help but peer up at him through her lashes and bathe in his smile. The simple gesture did things to her on the inside that she had never recognized before as the very emotion she'd been feeling all along.

"I never thanked you for...for any of it. I want to make it up to you."

"Astrid," his smile grew in endearment as he stepped closer, drawing her in with their clasped hands, "You've come so far these past few months. You should be thanking yourself."

"No," she whispered, dropping her gaze from his again. He responded by drawing his free hand beneath her jaw, compelling her to look back at him. His boyish hair fell in his eyes as he gazed into hers, melting her where she stood, "I...I want to prove it to you."

The small laugh that escaped his lips startled her, but the swell of pride that shined through his eyes was enough to make her stay locked in his embrace. His fingers caressed her neck and travelled along her shoulder as he tried to quell the overwhelming smile that threatened to take over his entire visage.

"Astrid," he said, drawing her close so that their clasped hands were the only thing that kept them apart, "You already have."

His last few words weren't so much said as they were breathed against the hollow of her cheek, sending a maelstrom of shivers through her body and raising goosebumps on her skin. Her sharp intake of breath did not go unnoticed by the very source of her contention, and the brush of stubble against her cheek as he smiled only served to weaken her further.

She was still lost, now more than ever, as his lips brushed against the sensitive hollow beneath the lobe of her ear, as he whispered assurances she couldn't hear against her flesh. This sudden closeness, this understanding physically, as well as mentally, strove to push her into a realisation she had already made; somehow they were bonded, new to it, but not new to each other, and irrevocably in love but frightened by it. She could feel the way he shook against her body – he was just as inexperienced to this as she was. But somehow, as his grip tightened in hers, it felt welcome.

It felt right.

Astrid could remember nothing as their lips met, but as the tension melted off of her body as the pressure of their kiss increased, the young warrior couldn't help but wonder why they had postponed this for so long.

He cupped her cheek in his palm as if he wished to keep her there forever, lost in a kiss she had no desire to be parted from. Her unoccupied hand buried itself in his unruly tresses, pushing him closer so that their bodies could practically meld with each other in every possible way. She basked in the feeling of Hiccup's body against her own, the taste of him on her tongue, the charcoal smell of his skin.

She threw her head back as Hiccup's lips peppered kisses against the corner of her mouth and continued to travel down her neck, pausing only as he reached the hollow of her collarbone. He exhaled shakily and lifted his chin up to meet her lips again. She kissed him fiercely this time, forsaking their held hands for a more practical approach. She wrapped her arms around his neck and upper body, drawing him closer than she had ever thought possible. He couldn't help but groan a little as she devoured him with all of the passion a warrior could possess.

The transition that happened next was not all that foreign in either of their minds as they both nearly collapsed against a mattress of spring moss on the floor of the wooden clearing. The trust that held between them like a tightly strung wire thrummed with fervour as they rushed to discard their clothing while trying to do so without breaking the kiss. They laughed as this proved to be an impossible task, and Hiccup took it upon himself to try and amend the situation, which only ended up in them laughing harder.

They were grinning as they somehow managed to shed their tunics and clothes, and the frightened feeling she had felt so strongly earlier was suddenly the last thing on her mind. There wasn't any room for it – the space where there had once been doubt and apprehension was now filled with an overwhelming feeling of love and desire so strong she felt she could very well die from it.

What a way to go.

Hiccup allowed himself to fall over her body and Astrid welcomed this, revelling in the way that their bodies fit together so naturally. His hand, roughened with years of smithing, travelled further and further down her body, slowly journeying south towards the juncture of her thighs.

She gasped at the new sensation as his fingers grazed her clit, and felt that wire between them thrum even faster. She felt that nothing could be quite as perfect, quite as enjoyable as the felling of his bare skin against hers, above her and around her, touching her, caressing her.

He removed his fingers from the small cleft that made her writhe beneath him, and he used his hands to lift himself over her once again. He met her eyes, pupils impossibly dilated with lust, expression entirely open with love and longing, before finally pushing home.

She expected the pain, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. She was so dizzy with sensation that she barely registered the brief agony before something grinded against that bundle of nerves once more and light exploded behind her eyes.

She gasped and held onto him as tightly as her shaking limbs would allow, eyes screwed shut as she rode wave after wave of feeling. As she reached her own precipice, he lost himself inside of her, groaning her name and panting heavily against the hollow of her neck. Quivering, she reached down and brushed against herself, finally reaching a point where she thought she would break into a thousand pieces.

And upon that final wave of ecstasy, they came undone together.

The Summer Solstice couldn't have come fast enough, as Astrid soon realized, pulling a dress out of her chest of drawers. It was blue and faded, but it was the only one she had and she knew that Hiccup would love it. Only a few weeks ago he had mentioned offhandedly that he had often imagined what she would look like wearing a summer dress.

She was going to show him just how awesome it would be.

She tugged the garment over her head and spun around as the skirt fanned out like a budding pitcher flower. She smiled and took a comb from the top of the chest, delighting in the way it felt as she pulled it through her hair. She was going to leave it down today, blonde locks cascading down her back and shoulders. She felt pretty. She felt confident. She was excited, happy even.

She was going to prove it to him today, for real.

She was going to prove that she was healed.

She leapt down the stairs and fastened a pair of sandals onto her feet before running outside and catching her hair in the breeze. She had promised to meet him at his house this time and she was already running late, but she was sure he wouldn't mind. The sphere of the sun was right above her in the sky, warming her skin and bringing a burst of colour to her cheeks.

She hurried through the alleyways that led through the upper village, smiling and greeting the dumbfounded villagers that she passed. She emerged into the town square and turned sharply in the direction of the chief's lodge, glinting in the sun on the highest hill. She spotted Toothless sitting on the sundeck outside the cabin and waved at him, laughing in response to his gummy grin. She finally reached the top of the hill and offered the friendly Fury an affectionate pat before tapping her knuckles on the door.

"Who is it?" she heard Hiccup holler from inside.

"It's me!" Astrid yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth, "Let me in!"

She heard something fall to the ground with a thud followed by the familiar sounds of his lopsided gait approaching the door. He tore the door open and nearly dropped his jaw as he took in her appearance, flabbergasted at the sight of her. Astrid blushed as his eyes grazed her body, soaking in every single detail of the sight before him.

"Astrid…I…"

"Do you like it?" she said, spinning around once so that he could see her dress in its totality. As she finished her rotation her sandal slipped, knocking her off balance and nearly off her feet. She splayed her arms out in an attempt to cushion herself for impact, but found that it never came.

Hiccup wrapped his arms around her body, catching her in a brilliant dip that left his heart racing. They laughed as she hugged her arms around his neck and arched her body up to kiss him in thanks, delighting in the way his laughter rumbled against her chest. He dipped her even further, making her squeal as he wiggled his eyebrows, pretending to be suave.

She smiled and swore to remember this moment forever.

Because he'd always be there to save her.

Footnotes: [1] Jul, similar to the Roman celebration of Saturnalia, was a celebration of the Norse New Year from December 20 – 31. The Solstice Eve is similar to the modern day Christmas Eve, where children left their boots filled with hay and sugar for Odin's eight legged horse Sleipnir. In return, Odin would leave them a gift for their thoughtfulness.

So...what did you think? Did I do it justice? Is it any good at all?

For those of you who read Horizons, expect its resurrection in the next two weeks.

Please review!

Brontë