I do not own How To Train Your Dragon or the song My Favorite Things, however, I do own the lyrics that I made up. ;)

In this, Hiccup, Stoick, and a bunch of other people went on a fishing trip around month ago, and when they were extremely late, searchers went out on dragons and searched for them... to find seven shipwrecks in one of the most thick-misted places there is around Berk. You'd assume the worst, too...

It's a sort of drabble.

Anyways, I learned how to play this song on the piano/violin, and this idea (and the song) were stuck in my head. I have a lot of unborn ideas. I'm just afraid of not finishing them. But this was short enough... eh. So I revised the lyrics a little *coughlotcough* and this came to be.

Please tell me if you would like me to continue this... if I should, it should be just one more chapter... we'll see...


She simply sat there, knees to her chest. She simply sat there, on the stone that she had sat on in spiteful hate, waiting for Hiccup, not so long ago. She simply sat there, by the pool where Toothless had been not so long ago, in the place where he had played with his dead rider ever so recently.

"Raindrops on roses and glass when it glistens..."

Glass. Hiccup had a glass window in his room. She had watched it last night, sitting on his bed next to Toothless... just watched it... and she also just watched the moon that caused the glass to glisten and glow.

And...

Roses...

Although it was that rare time of year where it didn't snow as much as usual, so that the strong grass of Berk was showing, other plants- the weaker ones, that is- were very rare. But then, how did this rose, right here at her feet... how did it grow?

"Bright copper helmets and warm woolen mittens..."

She had no idea that Hiccup liked mittens. She had been scavenging in his room relentlessly for hours not so long ago, just in case someone decided to throw his things away, and found a small box of mittens. Woolen mittens, and she could tell that it was the work of his deceased mother. On his desk was also an unfinished, shining, and bronze-colored helmet.

She almost cried when she saw her name half-carved inside the helm. But Vikings didn't cry.

"Brown paper packages tied up with strings..."

He had also apparently liked boxes, and string. Lots and lots of string. Silent sobs had stalled in her throat when she saw the birthday gifts the green-eyed boy had made for himself, when no one else other than his dad had given him birthday gifts. Perfectly packed little boxes, wrapped up in perfect ivory string, numbers scrawled on the box's surface to represent the turning of age... with self-made presents inside.

She remembered, once, however... when she was little and didn't quite fully ignore him yet, she had given him a little golden sunflower that she had picked in the wee hours of the morning. And, since she had nothing else to do with it, and the now eight-year-old boy's birthday was on that day...

...well, she gave the sunflower to Hiccup.

He had been beaming the rest of the day, clutching the little sunflower to his chest and smiling in a way that embarrassed her, but only just a little.

"These are a few of my favorite things..."

And as she hummed this little tune, suddenly making way into her head, she tried to think of the things that the boy, who had died not so long ago, would have liked... maybe...

"Silk auburn hair and warmth at cold places..."

And maybe some things that she liked, as well.

On that first flight with Toothless, she remembered how her hormones had gotten the best of her and she had simply rested her chin on his shoulder, trying not to sneeze and ruin the moment, because of his hair. And then she just shifted her position, and suddenly his hair wasn't bothering her anymore, instead making her blush a tad by its feel. And it felt... wonderful. Yeah.

She could also feel the warm blush that crawled up his neck as the night's cold bit at their skin... she didn't know about Hiccup's thoughts, but at that moment, she could have cared less about the airy wind and the freezing temperature.

"Quieter meadows and sunset lit faces..."

After he had lost his leg, and after the battle with the Green Death- which had taken place in only a matter of months ago- they had flown with Toothless to a meadow, where Hiccup had claimed was the site for one of his crash landings. Their crash landings, he had corrected when Toothless had glared at him, for it seemed like the dragon and the boy shared everything, even missing left limbs, although they did not share death. Then the Night Fury simply snorted in satisfaction before rolling in the grass like an excited kitten.

That sunset lit Hiccup's face up like a star.

"Dragons that fly with the moon on their wings..."

Moon on their wings, indeed. She remembered her first night flight with Esmeralda, her friend the Deadly Nadder, and Hiccup- no Toothless there that time, however much the ebony cat-equivalent dragon had protested. Hiccup had argued as well, but she knew that she could make anyone succumb to her wants; she just had a talent for that, or maybe she was just controlling...

It looked like Mani himself was playing a harp upon the Nadder's wings that night.

"These are a few of my favorite things..."

Our favorite things... right?

Brightest blue eyes by the gold upon ashes...

Gold upon ashes... golden fire in a fireplace. She loved fire, even before the peace with dragons. Even if it always changed, it was beautiful, unpredictable, but also so very angry, very fierce... sometimes it needed water to bring it peace.

She had lost her water.

Wait a moment...

She had not sung that.

A boy had sung that.

She whipped her head around, but no one was there, only Toothless, who was sleeping next to her, nose wet with tears at her lullaby...

Snowflakes that stay on her nose and eyelashes...

She tried not to jump up in shock at the voice with no owner, looking around. But, even more strange than the voice's origins, the cloudless night produced snowflakes that slowly fell around her and rested on the places where the song had spoken about...

Silver white winters that melt into springs...

The snowflakes melted slowly, the water slowly inching down her cheeks... at least they weren't real tears... Vikings don't cry, Vikings don't cry, Vikings don't cry...

These are a few of my favorite things...

Even if Vikings never cried, anyone would cry once they realized who was singing the song.

The boy proclaimed dead three weeks ago.

Hiccup...

When the rain falls...

Rain. Was he up there, in Valhalla, singing this? For her? Toothless didn't seem to hear. The heaven's clouds were quickly gathering, shrouding the skies and slowly releasing thick, tear-like raindrops to the land below. Toothless was instantly awake, guiding her half-concious form onto his back and bounding into the forest as soon as she was secure.

Towards the village...

When the truth stings...

Hiccup was dead.

Get over it!

Get OVER it!

When I'm feeling sad...

She cursed him, cursed him with all of her heart for tearing everything she knew apart... and then mending back again, before ripping it into peices once more by him dieing on her and Toothless. She was sure that the Night Fury felt the same. It was sorrow, all right. She was feeling sad. And it was burning her alive.

Black crept at the edges of her vision, like hollow predators... lurking...

And then striking.

She felt herself collapse, heard Toothless's cry of worry. But she wasn't dead yet... what was that...

Bodies, bodies on an island she had been to before... an island she had seen before, however far away it was...

Her uncle... Stoick the Vast...

Wait... Stoick and Hiccup were on the same fishing trip... the same trip where Hiccup, and so many others, had died...

And there was Hiccup, lying there, mouth barely moving to finish his song.

I simply remember my favorite things...

Images flashed through her mind, memories that weren't her own... a heartily grinning man with a colossal beard and figure, Stoick... a smiling brunette woman with bright green eyes, Hiccup's mother... an ebony dragon with brilliant emerald-gold eyes, Toothless... a blond girl with a red headband and blazing blue eyes, herself... and then...

And then...

And then... I don't feel so bad...

And then... Astrid smiled, for the first time, in a very, very long time.

The black was gone. The village was in sight, lights lit on as the Vikings prepared for the night, Nadders leaping from hut to hut and waking up little children, much to many mothers' dismay.

But no one would be sleeping tonight.

Because...

Astrid pulled back Toothless's ear, just a little, and paused, although he continued running, although he continued galloping with her sitting on his back... then, she leaned toward his head... rested a cheek against his warming scales... and she whispered three words...

"Hiccup is alive."