After I wrote Summer's Love, I started thinking about the others, and before I knew I couldn't resist writing this one as well. Aaaaand, I should mention that the idea of having Toothless as the personification of the West Wind belongs to Iggyfing. Our spirit AUs seem to have merged into one, since we keep adopting each others ideas.
Autumn's Love
Astrid had been the one to explain to Eret how the seasons worked, since the rest of them hadn't been able to put it into words. They knew what they did, they just didn't know how to explain it. But Astrid had the advantage that she had watched them work for hundreds of years.
"Their seasons are kind of like tents," she had said, as they sat at the Summer Solstice Feast. "When they reach a new territory, they have to place the tent stakes. Once that's done, they can relax and enjoy it. At least until they have to move again."
They had all agreed it was the best analogy. Even Jack and Merida had agreed, which certainly said something.
Hiccup was currently enjoying his season – somewhere in the American states, where Autumn came easily. The trees began their colorful transformation with little prompting, and the earth quieted on its own, so there was little for him to do. It was a place of recovery, in contrast to other places where banishing the remnants of Merida's Summer, or staving off Jack's Winter for a little longer, felt like an uphill battle.
At the moment he was deep in the woods, leaning back against Toothless's side as the dragon lay curled up in grass warmed by sunlight coming through the brilliant orange maple leaves above them.
He felt her before he heard her – felt the sudden stillness of the wood, before he heard her footsteps rustle the fallen leaves.
He could have at least tried to fight the smile that pulled at the corners of his lips. But he would have failed, so he didn't bother.
"You're hard to find in places like this," she said, sitting down next to him without ceremony. "Everything smells like you."
Hiccup opened one eye to look at her. He had been reaching an arm to wrap around her shoulders, but the comment caused his hand to stop in midair. "Is that a bad thing?"
"It smells like Autumn," she said. "It embraces you, so it hides you." She shifted so she was leaning against his shoulder, so the work of getting his arm around her was pretty much done for him.
He was still trying to figure out what Autumn smelled like to a Valkyrie. Wood smoke? Composting leaves?
But then she turned to look at him and smiled, and he decided he could figure it out later. He leaned in to kiss her. Her lips were cool and familiar, and the touch make him complete in a way he hadn't been able to comprehend before her.
Once, a century or two ago, when Eret had still been alive, Merida had asked how he could stand to kiss someone who smelled so much like death. He would have been offended, if they hadn't all been aware of what Eret's mortality meant for his relationship with Merida.
"I'm Autumn, Merida," he had said with a shrug. "I'm used to death."
Astrid didn't smell or taste like death to him. Everything about her was home. The same way places like this were.
When the kiss ended, Astrid pushed a stray lock of his messy brown hair off his face.
"I missed you," he said, trying to remember how long it had been since he had held his Valkyrie. As an immortal season, he had trouble keeping track of time. And even after all these years, he couldn't let himself count the days of their separations. That lead to too many storms that wrecked havoc on the ecosystem. And Emily Jane really didn't like people messing with her weather patterns.
She smiled with something close to sadness. "I have a few more days before I can stay."
Hiccup wasn't high ranking enough in the spirit hierarchy to take a Valkyrie completely from her position. But every six months, they were granted a few weeks together, uninterrupted by her duties. Occasionally they were able to get a few hours or days in between, but they weren't guaranteed. He was never fully released from his own duties, but they were less intrusive.
"But I could feel something was bothering you," she said, before he could ask why she had come.
Hiccup sighed. "Sorry."
He sat up (Toothless appeared to be as fast asleep as the personification of the West Wind could be), and Astrid did the same.
"Autumn's going smoothly, Jack and Merida are both behaving for once," Astrid said. "So what's wrong?"
"I was thinking about Merida."
Astrid quirked an eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"
Hiccup snickered. They both knew she had absolutely nothing to worry about, and especially not when it came to Merida. But his amusement faded quickly. He tried to find the right words to express his thoughts.
"It's stupid," he said, picking up a twig and rolling it between his fingers.
Astrid waited, her expression making it clear she would hear him out, as she always did. And if she decided it was stupid, she would tell him so, and insist that he move on.
"What's it been?" he asked. "Two hundred years?"
Astrid's blue green eyes darkened. Valkyrie didn't do sadness very well, it was kind of unnecessary in someone who guided the spirits of fallen heroes to the other side. But Hiccup knew how to tell when something had gotten close enough to affect her. And leading Eret had been one of those things. Merida could be mad about it. But she overlooked that Eret and Astrid had been friends – one of the few Astrid truly cared about.
"One hundred and twenty-seven years." She probably knew the exact date and time.
Hiccup nodded. "And she still loves him as much as she ever did. Maybe more so, since she can idealize her memories. So her love is just like her season – unchanging. Jack's is like the cold, it's all or nothing. And Rapunzel's is always new. Which is probably the only reason she and Jack are okay after all this time; anyone else would have gotten really tired of his over-protective adoration."
Astrid's smirk told him she knew exactly what he meant. "So why is all this bothering you?"
He looked down at the twig in his hand. "What's Autumn? Death?"
His thoughts had actually been on the fact that Autumn was change. But after however many hundreds of years he and Astrid had been together, most of them vowed to each other, he didn't think his heart was about to change.
He expected her to roll her eyes, and tell her that, yes, it was stupid. That he was reading too much into it.
Instead, she smiled.
If any of the ancient heroes had actually survived meeting her, and been fortunate enough to see her smile, there would have been epic poems written about her smile. Hiccup would never admit that he had once tried, but quickly decided that poetry was not his strength.
"Hiccup." She touched his cheek. "You're love is sacrificial. The death of Autumn makes Rapunzel's rebirth possible. You bring relief from Summer, and make sure the ecosystem is safe from Winter. You're the one most willing to lay down everything for what you love."
Hiccup grinned wryly. "So I'm the death that gives?"
It sounded kind of ridiculous when he said it outloud, but Astrid nodded.
Her expression became slightly somber before she added: "And I'm the death that takes."
Hiccup heard the unspoken words. They were a balance. Each a completion of the other, because they were so close to being opposites.
Rising to his knees, he pulled her up into another kiss. Thanking her wordlessly for answering his question. For being his other half.
Telling her that he loved her.
Astrid responded, one hand in his hair as the other rested on his arm. But just as he leaned in to deep the kiss she pulled away, her head whipping to look into the woods to her right. He recognized the distance of her gaze. Both because he had seen it before, and because he knew the pull that came from being required somewhere else.
"I have to go."
Hiccup nodded, reluctantly unwrapping his arms from her waist. His chagrin must have shown.
She leaned in for another quick kiss. "I'll be back in four days."
"I'll still be here," he said. "Or here abouts. Unless Emily Jane goes crazy again."
"I'll find you," Astrid promised, standing up. "I always do."