Chief Hiccup
Hiccup stumbled into his home nearly two hours after sunset. Two months into this chiefing business and things were not getting any easier. Sure, those closest to him assured him that he was doing great, and as of yet, the villagers had not organized a coup. Still, the mountain of problems and worries that had settled on him the moment he knelt in the dirt before Gothi to officially take on the role of chief loomed over him just as insurmountable as it had ever been. He had a sinking feeling that it would be a lifelong companion.
"Chief Hiccup…" he mumbled as he slumped onto the bench at the table. The moniker felt strange on his tongue and left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. He didn't resent being chief, though he was terrified of failing his people, but he did resent how he had come to have the position. To this day, he could not bring himself to sit in his father's chair at the head of the table in his own home. He had no choice in the Great Hall where he was expected to take the prominent seat at the front of the Hall, raised on a dais above everyone else, but in the privacy of his own home, he still felt too much like the son of house rather than its master. One day, he told himself, he would sit in that seat, but not today. Tomorrow wasn't looking too good either, he thought with a sardonic twist of his lips. His eyes shifted over and gazed at the empty chair for a moment before turning back to the table where a pot and cloth covered lump sat.
For the past two months, before he returned home for the night, someone would let themselves into his house, light a fire and leave enough food for two meals. He didn't know who it was that did it, though he suspected that it was several villagers taking turns, probably organized by and including the Dragon Riders. Tonight, he was left mutton stew and half a loaf of fresh bread. He had not been too surprised to find a fire and food waiting for him the first few days after the battle. He didn't expect it, but he wasn't surprised by it. The fact that it had been going on for this long, though, did surprise him. He was grateful, more than he could express, especially since he never knew who was doing it, and knowing firsthand how busy the Berkians were, he wasn't going to be upset when the help stopped. In the meantime, however, he always made sure to leave the dish and table clean and the fire pit stocked and ready to light when he left in the mornings.
Hiccup pulled the food away from the head of the table to where he was seated, his spoon still on the table where he had left it after he had cleaned it that morning. A north wind blew against the house as he tore a bite of bread off the loaf. He could feel the draft from the loft, and he contemplated sleeping downstairs on the floor by the fire pit.
He was alone tonight. Toothless had taken to eating the evening meal with the dragons in the stables. Then he would ensure that they were all tucked away safe and comfortable before trekking across Berk to join Hiccup wherever he was at the time. Tonight, however, a fight had broken out in the stables between a couple of Nadders and a Gronkle. Toothless had put a stop to the fight and sent the three dragons packing for the night, but he had then settled himself in his own rarely-used stall. Hiccup assumed it was to keep a lookout for the angry dragons and to be sure no one else got into it in the stables.
As for Valka, after the battle with Drago, Hiccup had been prepared to offer her his dad's room in the house with him, but before he could say anything about it she had stated her desire to sleep with the dragons in an alcove of the stables. She said that while she was happy to be back on Berk, she still wished to be near her reptilian charges. Her words had stung a little, but Hiccup hadn't let on as he had helped her set up a room for herself in the stables. As the days passed, however, Hiccup had become increasingly grateful that he wasn't sharing the house with her.
He liked his mother, and he loved that she was there now in Berk and in his life, but he couldn't seem to shake the thought that she had essentially abandoned him, his dad, and everyone. Nor did she seem to have had any intentions of ever returning. If he hadn't stumbled onto her, no one would know that she was alive out there. She had chosen dragons over her own family, her people. There was a part of Hiccup that understood. In fact, he could distinctly remember, during one of his more excited moments soon after the Red Death, Gobber once making the casual remark to him "People before dragons." He did sometimes get so caught up in trying to help and protect the creatures, that someone had to come along and remind him to think of the people in his care, too. He did understand his mother's view, but now, being chief with a whole tribe of people depending on him for their welfare, safety, and prosperity, he knew he could never just walk away and not look back. He was betrothed to Astrid, and he couldn't imagine letting her think he was dead for even a moment, let alone twenty years, and if he had a child…. No, there was just something about it, that though he had forgiven her, he would never be able to quite wrap his brain around and certainly never forget.
To further cause him frustration with his mother, it often seemed as though she forgot that he was no longer an infant. He had been a helpless baby when she had been taken, but he was no longer. Yet he was finding himself subjected to her "mothering" at increasingly inopportune times. She often questioned his health and hygiene decisions: Had he eaten? Did he get enough sleep? Was he caring for his leg? She questioned his decisions as chief: Are you sure the Jorgenson's house should be rebuilt next? Should we not be harvesting crops before building sheep and yak pens? Won't Bucket and Mulch be of more use among the builders rather than fishing? She questioned everything, it seemed: his relationship with Astrid, how well he was caring for Toothless, if the dragons were becoming too dependent on Vikings, rumors of the whereabouts of Drago, duties of the Berk Guard, Dragon Riders, and A-Team, and on and on.
At first, the questions had been sporatic, in private, and mostly just in regard to his own health and well-being. As time went on, though, she all but began to try to teach him how to be chief. He had explained to her that Stoick had spent time training him for this role. He had explained how he had led the Riders on Dragon's Edge, how it had been a microcosm of a village, a controlled test run of his leadership skills. He had even taken her aside one afternoon, had her fly with him to the far side of the island and tried to explain to her that he was a grown man. He told her that he was ready to take on the duties of chief; Stoick had seen to that. He wasn't bothered by advice, whether freely given or if he asked for it, but that she had to stop questioning him in public. She had to have some confidence in his decisions for everyone's sakes, but that had only served to upset her. She thought she had made him angry, and through her tears she apologized and said how she just forgot how grown up he was now, that he wasn't still a babe in a cradle. She had slacked off on the questions, but after a few days, she was right back to it.
Tonight, had been particularly rough. When Toothless had broken up the fight in the stables and sent the dragons away, Valka had taken the issue up with Hiccup. "They're dragons, Hiccup. Dragons fight. They're wild animals. They fight over food and territory and mates and hatchlings. They have that right. To force them to not fight is to deny them the right to the natural order of things."
Hiccup had taken a breath. "Mom, you have to understand, those stables are too small to allow a dragon free-for-all. Toothless knows this. The dragons that have lived there the longest know this. They all take their fights outside the stables and outside Berk. The new dragons must learn it as well. They can fight. They just have to do it somewhere where they have room to do it without endangering other dragons, people, or property."
Predictably, his mother did not agree with his position and had begun a very public argument with him in the village plaza. It had not ended well, and he doubted that as she stormed off that she had heard the villagers' mutterings about Hiccup's inability to agree with, listen to, or respect either of his parents. He knew for certain that she didn't hear Mrs. Larson remark to Grunhilda Grearson, "He had better learn to listen and respect those around him if he expects to be even half the chief his father was."
Grunhilda had pursed her lips and given a deep nod to her friend before adding her own two cents to the conversation. "Aye, and if he expects us villagers to have any respect or listening ears for him, then he'd best be learnin' to take no fuss from those who haven't the sense of responsibility to even care for their own families. He can't be a doormat and a chief both."
He had left the plaza at that point, shame and fury fighting for dominance in his gut. He had been expected at the Academy anyway for a meeting with the leaders of Dragon Riders, the A-Team, and the Berk Guard. They had discussed the outpost at Dragon's Edge, gathering information on Drago and his army, and expanding all three groups. Nothing was finalized, but a lot of good ideas were put forth and some decisions were made pending approval from the tribal council which was set to meet the next day. After the meeting, he had flown with Astrid to her home on Stormfly before finally walking to his own home.
Now, here he sat, alone, by the light of a dying fire in the pit, a cold draft wafting from the loft, eating lukewarm stew and soft but cold bread with an aching head and leg and exhausted beyond all reason. He looked at the mantle where his dad's collection of whittled figurines sat. Ducks, rabbits, sheep, fish, a horse, a thunderdrum, a night fury, and a rumblehorn. His dad's pastime, his way of clearing his mind after or even before a hard day, stared back at Hiccup. He idly wondered how many children of the village had one of his dad's carvings amongst their toys. Long before Hiccup was born, Stoick had made a habit of gifting newborns with a figurine at their naming ceremonies, normally a duckling. Even Astrid had once shown him the reindeer calf she had been given at her naming. She was one of the few who received a unique animal.
Hiccup sighed. "Wish you were here, Dad," he whispered. The fire crackled in the pit, and a log fell, blowing up a small plume of sparks and ash. Hiccup took a last bite of his stew before setting the lid back on the pot. He rewrapped the last of the bread and pushed it all to the end of the table away from the fire. He would eat the remainders the next morning when he broke his fast.
He groaned as he stood to put another log on the fire for the night. Every muscle in his body felt tense and protested more work, no matter how small, for the day. Alas, he had to bank the fire and remove his riding gear and armor before going to sleep. He gathered a couple of furs from the chest by the door and arranged them by the fire pit and was just starting to unbuckle his vest when a knock echoed through the room.
Hiccup rubbed his face with a sigh. No rest for the weary, he thought as he pulled on the door handle. There stood Astrid. She wore her day clothes and her hood but no shoulder armor. The wind whistled as it blew across the porch, and they both shivered. "Astrid! Come in before you freeze." He gently grabbed her elbow and ushered her into the house, soundly closing the door behind her. When he turned around, she was knelt next to the fire pit, extending her hands over the flames to capture the warmth. "Is everything okay?"
Astrid turned to look at him. He couldn't place the look on her face. Her eyes were soft and her lips turned into a slight frown. He felt like she was looking straight into his soul. "No, Hiccup," she answered quietly, "everything is not okay."
Alarm filled him as he reached for his cloak hanging on a peg by the door. "Let me just get my cloak, and-″
Astrid was back on her feet immediately, grabbing his arm and pulling him back towards the floor. "No, Hiccup. You don't understand," she interrupted.
"But you just said-″
"I know what I said. Everything is not okay, but everything outside is fine."
Hiccup sat down and looked at her. He prided himself a bit on being smarter than most, but maybe it was the pain, his exhaustion, or maybe she was just being extra confusing because she could. He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Astrid, but I don't understand. Does someone need my help or not?"
She reached and put her hands on his cheeks and gave him a sad, closed lip smile. Then she ran a hand through his hair, and he couldn't help but close his eyes and lean into her gentle touch. "No one needs your help, Hiccup. It's you who's not okay. It's you who needs help," she whispered. Her hand had run all the way down his scalp and was now cradling the back of his head. Softly, she captured his lips with her own. He tilted his head and kissed her back slow and languid. One of his hands curled around her waist and the other reached up to mimic her move to cradle her head. By this late in the day, her braid was loose enough that he was able to slip his fingers into her silky hair. He was careful to not tug or pull it as he let his hand get lost in her tresses. All the while, the hand she had on his cheek slid down to his chest, and he could feel her fingering the loosened edge of his leather vest.
They kissed long and slow, practically melting into each other. Somewhere in the middle of it, he felt the tension in his back and shoulders ease, his mind cleared, and his worries flew away. At long last, they broke the kiss but rested their foreheads together, eyes closed and both breathless.
When Hiccup finally opened his eyes, it was to find Astrid's already open and watching him intently. She calmly wound her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck with one hand and placed the palm of the other flat against his chest. He slid his hand out of her hair and down her braid and gently pulled at the ends of it. "I have to admit, milady, I like your method of helping," he whispered with a grin.
Astrid laughed quietly as she pulled back from him. "I better be the only person who helps you that way."
He winked at her. "I'll be sure to give Ruffnut fair warning next time, then."
She lightly punched his shoulder and huffed even as she smiled. "Like you would kiss Ruffnut."
Hiccup turned up his nose and leaned back on his hands. "Too true. I've seen where her mouth has been." He shuddered involuntarily. "Yeah, definitely not kissing that."
Astrid shuffled around to face the fire. She glanced at the furs piled beside the pit. "Were you going to sleep down here?"
The wind howled and more cold air drifted down the stairs. Hiccup scooted closer to Astrid's side and reached his hand over the fire pit. "Yeah, Toothless stayed in the stables, and it's too cold and quiet up there." He hung his head as the melancholy started to creep back into his chest. "The whole house is too quiet these days," he said softly.
"You miss him." It wasn't a question nor a surprising revelation. It was a simple statement of fact that Hiccup couldn't deny, nor could he bring himself to confirm. Instead he sat silently staring at the fire willing the lump in his throat to disappear.
Astrid wrapped her arm around his back and pulled him over until they were flush against one another. "He was proud of you, Hiccup, and he still would be. I know that I am." She kissed his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder.
The quiet lasted a few minutes. It wasn't an awkward silence. It was the peaceful silence of one person comforting another by simply being there. At last, Hiccup wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head. He was more relaxed than he had been before Astrid had come knocking on his door, but unfortunately, her presence was not enough to quell the pain in head and leg. He couldn't hold back the groan as his head and stump began to throb in time with his heartbeat.
Astrid pulled her head off his shoulder and looked at him. "What's wrong?"
"Just my head and my leg. They'll be fine when I wake up in the morning. It's nothing to worry about," he said as he continued to look at the fire.
"Hiccup…" She stretched out his name in warning.
He turned his head and met her gaze, the corn of his mouth lifted up. "I promise that it's nothing that a little sleep won't cure."
"Then, here," she began as she started working the buckles of his vest. "Let's get you out of all this gear and on to sleep."
Hiccup gently took over unbuckling his riding vest, but undeterred, Astrid started removing his prosthetic and began massaging his aching stump. Hiccup sighed in relief at her ministrations as he shook the vest off his arms. "Isn't it rather late for you to be out, young lady?"
Astrid scowled at him. "Hardly. I won't be going to bed for at least another hour or two. In fact, if it were still summer, you and Toothless would be chasing Stormfly and me into the sunset about now."
Hiccup chuckled lightly as he leaned back on the fur pallet and draped his arm over his eyes. "I think you got that backwards. You two would be chasing us."
Astrid dug her thumb into a particularly tight knot in his leg, and Hiccup grimaced and grit his teeth against the pain. He knew she would have done it eventually as part of the massage, but he also knew that she opted to do it right then just to get back at him. "That's not helping, Astrid, that's torturing."
He peeked at her from under his arm and saw her smile. She finished kneaded out the knot and went back to a much gentler touch. "No, that's teaching you to not get a smart mouth with your future wife," she responded.
Hiccup covered his eyes once more. "Please… In twenty years, Stoic the Vast himself couldn't get me to stop mouthing off. I don't know how you think you're going to accomplish it."
"You're forgetting one very important thing, Hiccup."
"And what's that, milady?" Hiccup asked without removing his arm from his face.
Astrid pulled the end of his pant leg back over his stump and laid it on the floor. Then she scooted around to his side, pushed his arm off his face, and kissed him hard and deep. Unlike their earlier kiss, though, this one was not a kiss of comfort. This one had a blazing fire behind it. She caught him so off guard that it took Hiccup a moment to get his head in gear and respond. He had just barely gotten his arms around her, though, when she pulled back just far enough to look into his eyes and began walking the fingers of her left hand across his chest. He could feel her nails just barely pressing into him through his green tunic, and he shivered involuntarily.
Astrid leaned over and put her mouth so close to his ear that Hiccup could feel her breath ruffle his hair. His heart started to pound, and he swallowed hard. "I'm a woman. We have ways of getting what we want," she whispered and abruptly poked him in the ticklish spot in his side causing him to yelp and curl into to himself. He pushed her hand away as she sat back up, throwing her head back in a gleeful laugh.
Hiccup mock glared at her. "You're evil. You do know that, right?"
She girlishly shrugged one shoulder and tilted her head into it with her eyes closed, a contented smile spread across her face. "You love me anyway."
Hiccup rolled his eyes and shook his head as he bunched up a fur and a pillow to recline against. "The gods only know why."
Astrid crawled over and snuggled up next to him. "Ah, don't be that way. I'll have you know that once I get back home tonight, my mother will have me sequestered in a chair, learning to embroider by candlelight for at least an hour because, apparently, it's a necessary skill for all wives. Asgard forbid that we don't have intricate embroidery around the hems of our garments, especially since the two of us, and I quote, 'are going to be the chief family of Berk. We will need to look our best.'"
Hiccup pulled her tighter against his side and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "For the record, I'm not marrying you for your embroidery skills."
"Or lack thereof," she muttered.
Hiccup laughed. "That either, but if it makes you feel any better, anytime I get within ten feet of the forge, Gobber all but throws a sword at me and makes practice plunging it into a post for the next ten minutes."
Astrid laughed outright. "You're kidding."
Hiccup chuckled and shook his head. "No, I'm not. I've started carrying my shield, again, for that reason alone. I nearly got decapitated last week because I got too close without realizing it. I heard my name and turned just in time to see a sword making a beeline for my head. After I managed to barely evade death by Gobber's over-enthusiasm, I thought Toothless was going take off another one of his limbs. Since then, he's refrained from actually throwing swords at me, but he still drags me into the forge and makes me ram one of his latest creations into a post. I've done well enough to impress him every time. I don't know why he keeps insisting that I do it."
Astrid smiled and shook her head. "It has occurred to you that as chief he actually can't make you do anything anymore, right?"
Hiccup shrugged his shoulders. "He's Gobber. He practically raised me, and he's twice my size. I'm really sure he can make me do anything. If I refused, he either whap me upside the head or have Grump flatten me. I was seeing spots for two hours the last time he knocked me in the head, and I don't think I'd survive Grump taking a nap on me."
Astrid leaned her head back onto Hiccup's shoulder. "Just admit that you've got a soft spot for Gobber and that he's got a soft spot for you. We all know how it is."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah… So while I know that Gobber always makes for a riveting conversation topic, I don't think that's what brought over here tonight. Was I just an escape from an embroidery lesson or was it something else?"
Astrid tilted her head up to look at him. Her blue eyes softened in the light of the fire. She searched his face. "Mom told me about what happened in the plaza this afternoon. She all but pushed me out the door to come check on you when I mentioned that you seemed distracted and bothered by something tonight. That's when she told me about the argument and what the villagers were saying. I didn't even ask permission before leaving to come over to see if you wanted to talk about it."
She radiated an aura of nurture and caring so strong in that moment that it left Hiccup nearly breathless. Gods, how did this woman affect him so? He wrapped both arms around her waist and pulled her close, burying his face in the hair falling over her shoulder, breathing in her scent: fresh air, spruce needles, and twinflowers [1]. She held him tightly, rubbing gentle circles on his back. She was everything he ever wanted, more than he could have dreamed of, and exactly what he needed. He loved her more than he had ever loved anyone. He could speak for the rest of his life and never find the words to adequately describe how much she meant to him. At last, he simply whispered in her ear, "I love you. I love you so much."
Astrid gently pulled back from him to look him in the eye. "I love you, too." She ran her fingertips across his hair line, ruffling his bangs, and finally cupping his cheek in her palm. "Tell me what's on your mind, Hiccup."
He grasped the back of her hand in his own, pressing her palm harder to his cheek as he closed his eyes. "There's so much, Astrid… Just so much," he confessed. The fire crackled and another log fell. Startled by the noise, the couple loosened their hold on one another, looked at the fire pit, and quickly relaxed.
Astrid grabbed Hiccup's hand and gave it a squeeze. He looked back at her. "In a few weeks, I will officially become your partner in life, but there is nothing that says I can't be your confidant now. I want to help you. Tell me. Tell me everything. Let me be your rock. Your dad had your mom and after her, he had Gobber. You have me, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure you always have me," she promised.
Hiccup dropped his gaze to their joined hands and let out a breath through his nose. "I just… I'm trying so hard, Astrid. This job, this being chief, it's not just a job; it's a life. It's not just what I do; it's who I am, who I must be through and through, day and night, every single day for the rest of my life. I knew that. I've known that since I was little. Dad…things were rocky most of the time, but he loved me. Even still, with rare exceptions, I was second to the village. I had to be because of who he was – Chief. And I'm trying, but after only two months, I'm barely able to hold up under the burden of this position.
"People who were cheering that day as I stood up for the first time as their chief are now watching like hawks for every mistake and throwing each one back in my face. They criticize my decision to let Mom live here, and then criticize when I argue with her, saying I have no respect for her. They complain that there are too many dragons in the village, but then complain that we should be trying to get more dragons in to help with the reconstruction. They gripe that I'm not out searching for Drago and with the next breath, gripe that I have Dragon Riders out searching for information about him. I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't at every turn.
"And then there's Mom. One minute, she's trying to coddle me like a child, and the next minute, she's frustrated saying that I'm not acting like an adult. She's trying too hard to make up for time lost and at the same time, forgetting that twenty years have passed since she left this life behind. I'm doing my best to try to get to know her and love her and learn how to be her son, but I'm failing even more at that than I ever did at being my father's son. I can't seem to be the son that either of my parents wanted me to be, and I… I don't know where to go with that.
"I'm floundering, Astrid. I'm treading water and getting nowhere. I'm tired and can barely keep from drowning in all of this. I… What do I do?"
His lost, pleading look was heart wrenching. Astrid had never seen him so out of his element. Floundering was certainly the word. His pale, pinched face with prominent purple circles under his eyes spoke volumes of how much his new life was taking out of him. Even his hair was dull and limp. She had been front-running the efforts to make sure his home was warm and stocked with food each day. She was down to a rotation of the original riders, and while she hated to keep asking, looking at her fiancé now, she knew that having a fire and food waiting for him at the end of each day was probably the only thing keeping him going at this point. His exhaustion, grief, and stress were soul deep, and he would simply go to bed without bothering to find food or build a fire if they weren't already waiting on him. She wouldn't let that stop, even if it meant she cooked a meal and built a fire for him on her own every day. He needed it, probably more than even he knew.
Astrid placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back into the furs. He yawned, and his eye lids drooped. He stayed alert, however, watching her, still waiting for her answer. She leaned over and kissed him, again. It was a soft, slow kiss but much shorter than the first two. When she broke the kiss, she sat up and began to run her fingers through his hair. The fire was burning low, casting long flickering shadows across the floor. The lighting accentuated Hiccup's tired features, and Astrid traced his face with her fingertips, never breaking eye contact with him.
Once she had traced down to his shoulder, she answered him in hushed tones. "What you do is exactly what you've been doing. You love Berk. You love the Berkians. You love the dragons. You love your mother. You do what it takes to keep all those things together safe and sound. It's what you've always done, Hiccup. I know it's hard, and I know that with a new title, people are looking at you through new lenses. I know that takes a high toll, but I also know, that you are cut out for this. I know that you're good at it. I know you were destined for this and not just because of who fathered you but because being a chief is what has always been inside you. We just all took a long time to see it." She leaned over and rested her forehead against his and spoke even lower. Her words were barely a breath on his skin. "You do what your heart and your instincts tell you do, my dearest, as always, and you never think that you're alone."
Hiccup titled his head up and captured her lips with his own. He pulled her flush to his chest and lost his right hand in her hair. He pressed all his gratitude into fifteen intense seconds before breaking the lip lock and pulling her down to lay against him. He rolled to his side and hugged her as close as he could, and she did the same. They stayed silently wrapped tight in each other's arms for the next several minutes.
"I wish you could stay," he murmured into her neck.
Astrid hummed. "Only two and a half more weeks, babe, and then you won't be able to get rid of me."
Hiccup's hand slid down the outside of her thigh. Astrid shuddered as she exhaled. "I'll never want to be rid of you, milady," he vowed in a low voice. His head never moved, even as his hand gripped her leg just above her knee.
Astrid's heart pounded against her rib cage, and she struggled to keep her breathing even. She did not want to leave, but through the fog rising in her brain, she knew she needed to. The last thing either of them needed right now was a scandal. She kissed the top of his tousled head. "I should go home, Hiccup."
Hiccup's grip on her waist tightened, but he did pull up his face from the crook of her neck. His eyes searched her face, and he brought his hand up from her leg to smooth her bangs from her eyes. "You're beautiful." He sounded so awed that she wasn't sure if he was talking to her or commenting to himself. She would have said something, but the look of wonder in his tired eyes as his intense gaze roamed her features made her brain shut down. She had caught him staring before but nothing like this. It was as if he was memorizing every detail down to the last freckle, cataloguing it away in his brilliant mind to draw upon later. Strangely, his close study of her didn't make her uncomfortable. In fact, she had never felt so precious to anyone in her whole life. He was a man dying of thirst, and she was his crystal-clear stream. She wasn't something to be possessed in his eyes. She was his lifeline, and through his penetrating gaze, he was praising the gods for bringing them together and was vowing to never take her for granted and to protect her always from those who would desire to damage her in any way. The passion of the moment was overwhelming as nothing she had ever experienced before, and she was left speechless by how all of that was conveyed in only a look. Without even thinking about it, she relaxed against the furs and let Hiccup continue his silent study of her.
His fingers followed his gaze around her face and neck, and he even fingered her shoulders through the fabric of her shirt. Slowly, he made his way back up. She could feel the calloused pads of his fingertips as they skimmed her jawline, her cheekbones, up around her ear and back down the lobe, across her lips, up her nose, over her eyebrows, around her forehead, and finally back to eyes. His thumb felt like the brush of a butterfly across her eyelashes. Her eyelids closed on instinct, and she felt his finger slip along the thin skin covering her eye. When she opened her eyes, his gaze locked on hers, and they stared at each other for a silent minute. There was such a look of worship in those green orbs that Astrid's breath caught in her throat. The thought that she could evoke such a look on him gave her a heady feeling of power like nothing else ever had. By some strange fate, however, it was also the most humbling moment of her life. Him freely giving her that power over him came with a nearly tangible weight. She had asked him of it, demanded it even when she had told him to let her be his rock, and he had done it.
Astrid felt unsteady for a moment as she looked back at him. What if she failed him? He was granting her access to all his vulnerabilities, all his weaknesses, all his worries, frustrations, and self-doubts. She would be his lifeline, what kept him steady in the whirlwind of his life. She would at once be his greatest strength and his greatest weakness. What if she couldn't manage that balance?
There was a split second where she almost decided she wasn't up to the task, but as Astrid looked at the man she loved, a man who by his own admission was barely keeping himself afloat, she took a calming breath and remembered that she didn't back down from any challenge. She was strong. She was disciplined. She was skilled. She was talented. She was a warrior. She was a protector. "You own it," Stoick had once said to her. Hiccup was giving her this, and she would own it. Her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled at the man across from her.
Hiccup's gaze lightened at her smile. "It's late. I should walk you home."
"No, Hiccup. You should get some sleep." She sat up and once again pushed him against the furs.
Hiccup offered little resistance and leaned onto the pallet. "But you need an escort this time of night." He was already struggling to keep his eyes open despite his protest.
Astrid breathed a laugh. "I have one: a deadly nadder named Stormfly. I'll be fine. You rest." She brushed his bangs aside and kissed his forehead. He was already more asleep than awake.
Hiccup rolled to his side and snuggled his face deeper into the pillow. Astrid pulled some furs over his body and up to his chin. He sighed and cracked his bleary eyes open. "I luv-oo, A-trid," he mumbled, his voice raspy with sleep.
Astrid smiled, again. "I love you, too, Hiccup," she whispered in his ear.
Hiccup's breathing was deep and even. His hand was curled around the edge of the fur. She quietly banked the fire. Then, she kissed his cheek one last time before lighting her lantern, blowing out his candle, and slipping silently out the door.
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Disclaimer: I do not own How To Train Your Dragon.
[1] Twinflowers are the national flower of Sweden. They are a fragrant double-bloomed flower that grows in the shade of spruce trees.
