Arranged Marriage AU. Written 2-10-2015.
"Just get it over with," she told him flatly, pulling away from his reaching hand to yank at the sash of her robe. The warm velvet fell back to expose her near transparent bridal clothes. She couldn't see his expression, but his long fingers curled back into his palm before dropping back to his side.
"Romantic," he noted, the word caught somewhere between an awkward attempt at conversation and a question.
Astrid cut her gaze up to him as she shrugged out of the robe. She threw it unceremoniously over the desk where he'd placed her bridal crown. "I don't have a maidenhead, but don't worry- it was a childhood accident. So you don't have to be gentle or anything, just finish quickly."
Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III- her husband- either laughed or scoffed. Shaking his head, he searched the inside of his cheek with his tongue and rested his hands on his skinny hips. "Unbelievable," he whispered.
She lifted a brow at him. He should have known this was coming. Sure, she could play polite and obedient bride for the villagers who would one day become her people, but for a husband she'd only met for the third time today? Stoick the Vast's scrawny, dragon-loving heir should have expected less than a warm reception in their marriage bed.
Gathering the skirt of her nightgown around her hips, she crawled onto the bed and leaned back with a sigh. She refused to blush like he did while her most intimate places were exposed. "Hurry. I'm tired."
He wouldn't even look at her. His mouth pulled into a taut frown as he kept his face turned away, his gaze on the dark bedroom window. Color brightened his cheeks, and he shifted his weight from his real foot to his prosthetic one and back. "Could you put your dress back down, please?"
Astrid scowled. "I'm not interested in whatever sweet intimacies you have in mind. If it's distracting, you can cover it up. With your dick."
"Oh, for the gods' sake." Hiccup snatched her robe off of the desk and threw it over her. Then he took a step back so he could look her in the eye, though the flush didn't drain from his face and neck. "Did I do something wrong? Why are you mad at me?"
She sat up on her elbows and decided not to resist the urge to stare at him like he'd lost his mind. "I'm naked in our bed waiting for you. From my side of things, you're the one with a problem here."
"I'm not just gonna... stick it in you..." Even his ears were turning red. Wow. What a brash, brutal Viking she'd won herself for a husband. "What's going on? You were fine all day."
Sitting up, she pulled her hair over one shoulder. "Maybe you missed it, Hiccup, but I was handed over like a shipment of mead today." Ire boiled in her chest, finally spilling over after hours of being primped and preened and directed and pushed and pulled and played like a pretty little puppet. "I don't want to pretend to be happy about a near stranger consummating our marriage."
His jaw hung slack, his mouth working as if trying to form words. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed a humorless chuckle. "So- so all the shyness, all the forced conversation- none of that was because you're a blushing bride away from home for the first time?"
"Hardly." Her tone was dry and unamused.
Hiccup turned away from the bed and looked up at the ceiling. "So I'm guessing all the stuff I was fed about you being excited for this, about you liking me and wanting to be a part of Berk's whole dragon revolution- that- that was all yakshit too?"
She found herself shifting her skirts beneath the cover of her bridal robe, pulling them back down. "Sorry to spoil your fantasies. I'm sure you're used to getting what you want."
He spun back around, and she straightened, prepared for a fight. "Do you even know what you're talking about?" His brow was creased with irritation, a wry sort of grin tugging at the corners of his mouth despite the angry finger he had pointed at himself. "Do you know anything about me?"
"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III," she began to recite. "Son of the famous Stoick the Vast. Rider of the last Night Fury. Saved his entire village at fourteen and has been basking in the glory ever since. Dragon tamer and innovator extraordinaire! Points and women are wrapped up like packages and shipped off to be his wife."
"I didn't want this either!" he hissed, sounding so much like the dragon she'd refused to pet the first time she ever saw his face. The words took her aback, made her lean away just slightly. "I didn't want to be married. Especially to somebody I hardly know!"
Astrid wasn't sure how to respond at first. A shocked, heavy silence fell between them, accented by the sound of her pulse in her ears.
"You didn't want to marry me?" he snapped. "Then why didn't you say anything sooner? I liked you, yeah. You were pretty and cool and Toothless seemed to like you. But I wasn't the one who brought up a wedding. Your people were." Pacing the length of the room, he raked his fingers through reddish-brown hair. "If you'd said something, I wouldn't have gone through with it. Dammit!"
It was as if she'd gotten sloppy in combat and taken a blow to the gut. She couldn't breathe, glancing down at the bed furs as she tried to process this impossible information. Now that she thought about it... maybe all the awkward behavior at the handsal and the ceremony hadn't been meekness, but disinterest. Maybe the dampness in his palms when he'd taken her hands wasn't nervous excitement, but anxious uncertainty. The hesitant smiles, the way he curled his arm around her without ever touching her- maybe none of it was as she thought.
"I'll sleep in the stables," he suddenly grumbled, prosthesis scraping the floorboards as he moved towards the door.
"Wait-" she heard herself say, treasonous hand reaching towards him. Quickly withdrawing the hand before he could turn and see it, she pursed her mouth and waited for him to pause and sigh. "Just. Just hold on."
He didn't move, but he let his head fall over his shoulder to give her a withering glance. Astrid pulled the velvet robe back around her, shoving her arms through the sleeves, and then clambered off of the bed. She pulled him to face her. Then, not meeting his gaze, she unclasped the shiny black mantle around his shoulders. Threw it on the bed. Rustled his hair, tugged his shirt free and loose, and yanked at the laces of his pants until they hung a little askew on his hips.
"There," she muttered. She uncomfortably crossed her arms in front of her breasts and stepped back, jerking her chin towards the door as if to say go.
Hiccup pulled on his shirt as if to inspect it before brushing it off and giving her an unreadable look. But he didn't say anything else. He took great care not to brush her shoulder when he stepped aside and slipped out the bedroom door.
The next night, she was already asleep before she heard him moving downstairs.
It'd been another day of wedding fun and festivities, with drinking and eating and cornering her family in the Great Hall to speak in hushed tones about what they'd done. Nobody suspected anything was amiss, clapping Hiccup on the back and giving her far from subtle winks. The young man she'd come to know as her husband's cousin continued sitting too close and trying to slip his arm around her. The blonde twins asked her more questions about her own island, though the girl did try luring the conversation closer and closer to the wedding night that didn't happen. And- to her extreme displeasure- dragons wandered to and fro and sniffed at her with curiosity. She flinched every time one drew close enough to grab her attention.
Her husband was obviously less interested in the feasting than he'd been the day before. There were no more nervous grins, no easy-going jokes, none of the nasally laughter that had scraped her patience yesterday. He adopted a tempered, close-lipped smile when he was spoken to, but otherwise kept a bored expression and fiddled restlessly with his mug.
They'd left together, for appearances sake, but he took off on his dragon after walking her to the front door of his- their- house. But now she could hear him moving around downstairs. Shifting in the warm blankets of a too-large bed, she rubbed sleepy eyes and listened to the sound of crinkling paper. A fork on a plate. Various buckles clinking together. A dragon's snoring, and then later, a human snore to match.
She pulled the pillow over her head and tried to drown them out.
"Stop," she whispered to the Night Fury trying to worm his head into her lap. Where was his rider? She was iffy about swatting it, unsure whether it would try and bite off her hand in the middle of her wedding celebration. But she didn't want it touching her either.
The dragon- Toothless- whined and blinked at her. Then his gaze slid longingly to her plate of food.
Astrid wrinkled her nose at the attempt at a domestic act. She'd watched the same dragon snatch whole fish from peoples' dishes while they weren't looking. "No," she told him in low tones. "Go beg from someone else."
Toothless snuggled his head further onto her lap, managing to push her chair back from the table with a loud scrape. Her hands flew up, and she found herself wanting for the knives still packed with her things. Reflex, of course. She wouldn't really stab the thing- unless he attacked her first- but it would take more than some wide eyes for her to soften towards her husband's pet beast.
"Go." She waved her fingers at it. "Shoo. Leave me alone."
He licked his lips.
Sighing, she looked up in search of Hiccup. There were too many drunk Berkians crowded throughout the Great Hall, though, so she could hardly see past the few groups standing near their table. None of the other people whose names she could remember, either. With a short, annoyed groan, she glanced back at the Night Fury.
Picking up a chunk of mutton from a puddle of gravy, she held it out so Toothless could see before tossing it a few feet away. The dragon made a gurgling noise of happiness before pouncing towards the little offering. Then he licked his chops and sat straight, staring again.
Astrid gave another sweep of the room. Nobody spoke to her, not even members of her own tribe. Her parents were lost to the festivities, and her new in-laws were nowhere in sight. She might as well have been a pretty portrait on display. Scowling, she selected another piece of meat from her plate and tossed it towards Toothless. She wasn't going to be eating it anyways.
There was suddenly a scrabbling noise. A trio of Terrible Terrors tumbled out from beneath the tablecloth and began pawing at her calves.
She scoffed. "No. Go."
A brownish Gronkle in the corner noticed the goings-on and perked with interest. It puttered over and- after exchanging some growly noises with Toothless- sat back and gave her a tongue-lolling smile.
Giving the Night Fury a betrayed glare, she shook her head. "No. Absolutely not. Tell them to go somewhere else."
Even as she spoke, though, a Zippleback head appeared over her shoulder. She started and yelped. Then the second head began lapping at her gravy-covered fingers. A young Nightmare tried crawling under the tablecloth, bumping its head on the underside of the table and rattling hers and Hiccup's dishes. It accidentally dragged the tablecloth askance when it popped out between the group of Terrors.
"Hey, hey, hey!" A familiar voice suddenly cut through the cacophony of party chatter. The dragons scattered, and Astrid twisted to see her husband headed towards her. "There's plenty of food for you outside, ya greedy monsters." He waved his hands toward the table, commanding the dragons away, and they scrambled to obey.
Toothless didn't run off, but he did hurry close and start nuzzling her shoulder. The warm purring of his breath on her collarbone felt odd and a little frightening.
Hiccup stopped in front of the table, folding his arms and almost trying to look intimidating. "Oh suuure," he told the Night Fury. "You're just cuddling. You wouldn't beg for food from Astrid, would you, Toothless?"
The dragon responded by wriggling his head beneath her arm and leaning against her breast. She lifted her uneasy gaze to the dragon-rider. Her fingers dangled awkwardly over her lap.
Hiccup shook his head. "I thought you were above that." Then he tilted his head in a dismissive gesture, and the Night Fury made a noise that almost sounded like a defeated sigh. Slinking away, he went off in search of another victim.
"Thanks," she said, rolling her shoulder like it'd been injured. "Lesson learned."
He chuckled, raising his cup to his lips. His mood was better today, but still reserved and a little grumpy, though it didn't seem directed towards her. "Don't worry about it. He still gets Dad with the lap thing."
Astrid searched for Stoick the Vast among the crowd of people and found the horns of his helmet above them all. It was hard to imagine the tall, broad, powerful chief giving into the begging of a dragon. He had given Toothless a fond pat, however, the first time they visited her island to sign the peace treaty between their villages.
"C'mon," Hiccup said then, extending a hand towards her. "I'll introduce you to some more people."
She wiped Zippleback saliva off of her fingers before accepting.
"You can sleep in the bed," she mumbled from the top of the stairs when she found him sprawled uncomfortably over the sitting chair in the living room.
"I'm fine," he replied politely, clearing his throat and throwing his leg over one arm.
She tapped at the railing. "We're married. You can't do that forever."
It didn't take long for her to give up and return to their- her?- room with a sigh. She crawled back beneath the furs and stared thoughtlessly into the dark. A few minutes later, though, the door creaked open. A prosthesis thunked on the floor. She didn't roll over to watch him, but after a moment, the blankets were drawn back, and the bed dipped under his weight.
Her heart hammered in her chest. She thought about her axe, now leaning against the wall, and ached for the familiar feeling of its weight in her hand. But that was just a comfort. Despite the fact that his back was hardly an inch or two from hers, she could feel its warmth. By the sounds of his breathing, she knew that it was a long time before he fell asleep. It was even longer before she joined him.
Her parents were yelling somewhere behind her, but she didn't listen. She was seething, her hand throbbing with white-hot fire and her chest burning with a fury just as warm. Hiccup had one arm barred across her, but whether he was holding her back or protecting her, she wasn't sure.
"I think she broke my jaw," his cousin slurred to the group of Vikings who'd gathered close to inspect the damage. He cupped his face with both hands, glaring in her direction.
"I'm sure she had a good reason," Stoick the Vast rumbled diplomatically. While his brows had shot up when the action broke out, her father in law didn't seem particularly upset or surprised at the situation.
Hiccup glanced at her. "It's okay," he whispered over his shoulder. "Everybody knows what Snot's like. What'd he say?"
She snarled, meeting her husband's eyes but not willing to go into the details of his cousin's comment with everyone listening. If she was honest with herself, she wasn't sure why it had set her off as much as it had. Really, it wasn't so much the fact that Snotlout was trying to invite her into his bed- it was the things he was saying about Hiccup to get her there. And it wasn't so much that he was insulting Hiccup as he was insinuating that their marriage hadn't been properly consummated.
And so, with weeks of anger and frustration and hate boiling in her blood, she decked him.
There'd been shouting, panicking, dragons growling, Berkians gasping, and all sorts of ruckus before she was pulled away from Snotlout and he was pulled off the floor. Even now, he stumbled drunkenly against the arms of some vaguely-familiar relative.
"I'm sure you can imagine," she hissed, instead of rehashing the entire lewd discussion.
Hiccup gave her a short nod and then looked back to the rest of the questioning crowd. "Looks like we'll be turning in early," he told them with a little wave. "Don't drink and fly!"
Then he was tugging on her waist, whistling for Toothless and guiding her through the ocean of bodies. She was still fuming, wanting to go back for another punch. That one had felt so good, been such a wonderful stress reliever. She almost hoped somebody else would try saying something. But she clenched her jaw and let Hiccup lead her out of the Great Hall. The cool air felt good on her hot cheeks.
"You wanna go for a ride?" he asked, and even though his words didn't make sense, she nodded.
"Just get me away from him before I shove his balls up his ass."
Her husband's brows shot up, and his mouth fell into a surprised, crooked kind of smile. But if he found her answer too violent- her mother was always chastising her for not being ladylike enough- he didn't say so. Instead, he slipped his hand from the small of her back and beckoned Toothless over. Leaning over, he fiddled with his prosthesis before throwing a leg across the Night Fury's back and hitching into the saddle.
"C'mon." He twisted and patted the space behind him. "It'll clear your mind."
Her jaw dropped. He had said "ride", hadn't he? And she did just agree, didn't she? Astrid cursed her temper and gaped. Even the dragon looked back at her expectantly.
"Can't- can't you just take me home?" She would walk home herself if he'd let her. Anything but climbing on that beast.
"You're not still scared of him, are you?" Hiccup held out his hand.
"I'm not scared!" she snapped, even as she recognized the note of teasing in his tone.
"Then get on," he challenged. His hands settled on the handlebars installed to the horn of the saddle as he grinned at her.
She scoffed quietly, dropping her gaze to the empty spot behind him. The noise of the feasting still continued from the Great Hall, music and shouting muffled through the night air. Dragon chirping whistled behind them, from the stables. Berk was a loud place, she was realizing.
Then, because she didn't want him to think she was afraid, she frowned and shuffled forward. It took some adjusting for her to stretch her leg over and find a comfortable position, but he waited patiently until she rested her hands on his waist. Then he leaned forward to give Toothless a pat on the neck, murmuring a command she couldn't make out.
Her arms crushed him to her chest when they took off and left the little island behind them.
"What- ah-" Hiccup held his hands up, as if in surrender from an attack.
She sat back on his thighs, searching between bedcovers and clothing. "It's been four days. We have to do this."
"No, we really don't," he laughed nervously. Then her wandering fingers found it- warm and twitching but not quite hard- and he yelped.
She squeezed, testing the lump with a stroking thumb. "Are you not going to do your husbandly duty?"
"Hah- ah- ahem..." He swallowed, and she could tell that he was blushing even in the dim candlelight. "I was waiting."
"For?"
"I dunno." He shrugged, hesitantly resting his hands on her knees. "Uh... You? Us? I wanted you to feel more... comfortable."
Tilting her head at him, she rubbed the heel of her palm against the seam of his pants. That seemed to make him throb, to encourage his growth. She'd never had any experience with the male body, but she'd been plenty educated on how it operated.
"I'd feel more comfortable without this hanging over our heads." Lifting up so she could pull back the furs, she shoved his tunic up over his stomach and began working at the knot of his pants.
"Astrid." He suddenly grabbed her wrists, stopping her. Green eyes demanded her attention. "I don't want what you want," he whispered. "To just- get it over with? I don't want to do it like that."
She pulled her hands free but didn't try undoing the laces again. For a second, she considered arguing with him. Walking around the village, having people stare at her or make bawdy jokes at dinner- she felt like a liar. She wanted this taken care of, in case legal or political issues came up. What things might they say about her if it got out that their marriage hadn't been consummated? What might they say about him?
But for some reason, she didn't want to argue. She thought about pretending to be the gasping, lusty woman all men traded stories about over alcohol, but that wasn't her either. So with a roll of her eyes and a sharp sense of disappointment, she crawled back to her side of the bed and faced the wall.
It took a few minutes before he readjusted the furs again. She heard the puff of his breath as he blew out the candle. And then after he settled into a comfortable position, she felt knuckles brush the back of her neck. His hand stayed there until morning.
Saying goodbye to her parents was harder than she thought it'd be. She'd been so angry with them lately that she'd hardly spoken to them. But now that they were leaving her on Berk to go back to her real home, she wanted them to stay a little longer. She told her mother so as they loaded the ships with gifts from the chief and his son.
"We'll come visit before the year's out," her mother promised, tucking back a blonde strand that had come loose from Astrid's marriage braids. "And of course we'll come right away if there's a babe."
She felt a little warmth rise to the bridge of her nose and hoped her mother didn't notice that she couldn't meet her gaze. Hiccup would have to touch her before he could get her pregnant. If they were keeping their fingers crossed for grandchildren any time soon, their hands might start to cramp.
But she didn't say any of that. She nodded obediently and let her parents hug her tightly.
"I didn't think you could drink," the girl twin- Ruffnut- commented as Astrid slammed her mug down on the tabletop and cringed. "You didn't touch much of the stuff at the feast."
She wiped a stray drop away from her chin with the back of her hand. "I drink," she answered succinctly.
The Great Hall was significantly quieter and calmer at a normal dinner than it had been for the past week. No raucous music or dancing, no drunk relatives tripping over furniture, no fist fights or deafening shouting. She could even hear the popping noise of the fire in the hearth, it was so quiet.
"Isn't there food at your house?" Snotlout grumbled, obviously still sore over their conflict.
She paused in the middle of picking up her fork. Yes, their kitchen was overflowing with stews and dried meats and breads and pies. Would the people of Berk take offense to her eating with the rest of them instead of staying in?
"I didn't want to eat alone," she replied with a touch of indignation. Hiccup was out late, taking a message via dragon to a fishing ship out on the water. There was no telling when he'd be back.
"Well, you're welcome to eat with us!" the big one, Fishlegs, chirped with an open gesture. "We've known Hiccup all our lives, so you're among friends here."
Astrid summoned a polite smile, though it wasn't completely ingenuine. "Thanks."
"Yeah, we knew Hiccup before he became the cool guy," Tuffnut told her proudly, pointing a spoon at her. "Back when he was a twerp."
She lifted a brow. "A twerp?"
"Hiccup hasn't always been... tall," Fishlegs provided, wincing as if he was uncomfortable discussing the subject.
"You think he's skinny now?" Ruffnut added to her brother's previous statement. "You should have seen him before. Skin and bones, with a metal foot."
"And he was a dumbass, too!"
"Gods was he!"
"Always messing things up for everybody."
The twins simultaneously shoved food into their mouths, chewing with stuffed cheeks. Astrid found herself both curious and inexplicably agitated. Nobody had spoken ill of Hiccup since the first time she'd heard his name. He was the village hero, the tamer of dragons, the one who would bring peace to the barbaric archipelago. He rode a Night Fury for gods' sake, and he wore a sword of fire strapped to his thigh. Snot's insult at the wedding celebration was the first time she'd heard anyone say anything about him that wasn't teeming with laud.
"What do you mean?" she mumbled around a forkful of carrots.
"He was always screwing up," Snotlout replied, suddenly happy to be a part of the conversation. "Getting in the way, setting the dragons free, hurting people with his stupid inventions. Everybody called him 'Hiccup the Useless'."
The twins laughed, but Astrid found herself scowling. It wasn't exactly protectiveness that she was feeling in her gut, but it was a sizzling kind of irritation anyways. Perhaps she shouldn't have finished off a mead that strong that quickly. That surely accounted for the bizarre urge to tell them to shut up.
"Who would've known that Hiccup would be this Hiccup?" Tuffnut sighed and shook his head.
"He's still a dork," Snotlout bit out.
Astrid and Fishlegs glared.
"But I bet he's good in bed," Ruffnut interjected, her wistful tone lightening the mood. That had Astrid's head snapping back to stare at her with wide eyes. "Blacksmith's hands. Dragon rider hips. And I'm sure he had to inherit something from Stoick the Vast."
Astrid choked. Across the table, Fishlegs spat out his drink. Astrid felt her face turn a bright red as she coughed and cut her gaze away from the table.
"I think that's an affirmative." Tuffnut's tone was awed. "Is it really that big?"
She reached for Ruffnut's drink, trying to soothe the coughing fit that had begun in her throat and chest.
"Oh man, she's blushing hard."
"I bet she's used to hard."
Mead stuck in her windpipe, and Astrid straightened. Waving her hands in front of her, she shook her head and tried to blink back the tears stinging her eyes. "No," she rasped, "It's not..."
They laughed and teased her some more, but after a while, Ruffnut reached around the table to pat her back. Astrid swallowed hard and made a mental note to invite the twins to a sparring match once she got back into her regular work outs. She wasn't one to be made fun of, and she'd let them know soon enough.
"I'm not surprised," Snotlout sniffed. He sat back, folding his arms over his chest. "Hiccup's been scrawny since the day he was born. Fishbone arms, fishbone legs, fishbone-"
"It's huge."
She didn't know where it came from, but at the sight of his smug face, Astrid couldn't help but feel that burning hate. If the bruises along his jaw weren't enough, she'd settle for bruising his ego.
The rest of the table went quiet for a second, all eyes pinned on her. She prayed that her face wouldn't turn warm under all their gazes.
"Seriously. It hardly fit."
This time Tuffnut was the one choking. His sister didn't offer a hand for him, though. Fishlegs' ears turned the color of a sunset. And Snotlout just stared with what looked like stunned defeat.
Satisfied, Astrid stood. "In fact, I'm going to go wait up for him. Night."
He crawled into bed far too late. The cool of night still clung to his clothes, and he sounded exhausted from just the climb up the stairs. With a quiet groan, he adjusted his pillow beneath his head and rolled over to face her. It wasn't an entire minute before she could feel the soft exhales of his snores in her hair.
She thought about it. Then slowly, so he wouldn't wake, she shifted back into his wind-chilled skin.
"This is third position," he instructed, guiding her ankle into the proper place. Behind her, she heard Toothless' prosthetic tail snap taut.
Really, she wasn't all that thrilled about having to learn the various intricacies of the Night Fury's tailfin. She nodded and listened and paid attention, but she wasn't bubbling with enthusiasm like her husband. Still, she wanted to be able to fly a dragon like the rest of the Berkians. And Toothless was the only one she trusted as of yet.
"What happened to him?" she asked, curiosity distracting her from his lessons.
Hiccup straightened, cheerful expression slowly dropping. He wet his lips and hesitated for a moment before saying, "I... happened."
She blinked, waiting for him to continue.
Rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture she was learning to associate with his discomfort, he cringed. "I shot him down. With a bola launcher. I made the tail so he could fly, but his fin'll never grow back." He reached over to scratch at the dragon's ear.
Astrid looked back at the bright red leather. It seemed gaudy at first, just like his flight suit. After a few days, though, she stopped noticing it- the same way she'd stopped noticing Hiccup's prosthesis. It was just a part of him.
"I think he's forgiven me, though," Hiccup said a little brighter. He made a face at Toothless, and the dragon returned the expression with a slimy lick. "Haha. Yep. We're good."
For some reason, she all at once felt absurdly sympathetic towards the dragon beneath her. She, too, had been shot out of the sky, taken unaware and crashing down in a strange place. Hiccup was her attacker and her defender- her foe and her friend. It was his fault she was stuck here with people she hardly knew in a marriage that was hardly real. Would she learn how to forgive him in time too?
"Don't come in!"
Astrid froze at the sharp command, hand still on the door to their bedroom. It was strange to find Hiccup home before her, and even stranger that he raised his voice. She peeked through the thin crack in the doorway and was met with the pale stretch of Hiccup's freckled back. He was undressed, but he wasn't rushing to cover himself. She noticed the prosthesis discarded and resting on top of the bed. She could only barely see from this angle, but he had his left leg pulled up in his lap, and he was massaging the blunt end of his shin.
She stepped back, words sticking in her throat. "S-sorry. Is everything okay?"
On the other side of the door, he paused. She waited, even considering heading back downstairs, until he spoke. "Yeah. The weather makes my leg act up. Just... give me a few minutes, okay?"
Nodding, even though he couldn't see it, she licked her suddenly dry lips. "Yeah. Okay."
Heart fluttering weirdly, she turned and descended the stairs. As she raised her hands to her face, she felt the warmth of her cheeks against the backs of her fingers. The sight of her husband's back should have been an innocent sight, nothing worth getting worked up over. But she'd never seen it. He was slender, yes, but there was muscle hidden beneath his multiple layers. In his shoulders, especially. He had a few burn marks puckering his pale skin, and the dimples at the base of his spine had been visible. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't that.
Astrid shook her head, as if she could shake the image from her mind. Wringing her hands in front of her, she walked away from the staircase and dropped into Hiccup's sitting chair by the hearth. Outside, thunder rumbled lowly. She realized that the rain was probably what brought him in so soon.
There was a shifting noise from the corner, and she glanced over to see Toothless twisting and rolling in his bed. The dragon grumbled, sitting up and biting at his tail before laying back down. But then just seconds later, he stood and repositioned himself once more. He couldn't seem to get comfortable. Astrid watched for a minute, concerned, and then Toothless nibbled at his tail once more.
Lightning flashed in the window. She heard her husband's words a second time- the weather makes my leg act up- and she shook her head with a huff of disbelief.
This man and his dragon must have been soulmates.
She crossed the living room, hesitating for just a moment before kneeling by the great Night Fury. He warbled questioningly and tilted his head at her, but she didn't answer. Instead, she unbuckled the straps of his prosthetic fin and slipped the device off his tail.
Toothless snapped it a couple of times, almost like a whip, and then he tried gnawing at it again.
"Hey. Stop." She reached for the dragon's heavy tail, laying the tip across her lap so that his good fin blanketed her knee. Then she began rubbing the scarred, frayed flesh of the other side. Massaging it, just as she'd watched Hiccup doing to his own leg.
Astrid was worried she'd hurt him at first, that she'd do something wrong and he'd chomp off her hands in one clean bite. But he only whirred and purred and shifted so that he was curled around her. He was warm and docile, like a grossly oversized kitten. She stroked his tail and listened to the rain on the roof and pictured her husband's freckled back in her mind's eye.
Eventually her hands began to cramp. Her back began to ache with prickling pinpoints of pain. But Toothless was content, and she didn't want to move.
"Huh."
Hiccup's voice was quiet on the top of the stairs. She twisted to look over at him. He was still shirtless, but he'd put on pants, and he had one hand shoved deep in a pocket. His mouth was hanging open, his expression stunned, and his other hand was still on the back of his neck.
Astrid flushed, glancing down at the Night Fury's tail in her lap. "I, um. I think it was bothering him. Too. The weather."
"Probably," Hiccup mumbled, but his eyes were fixed on her. One corner of his mouth was tilting upwards. For the first time since she stepped on Berk, she felt like maybe she'd done something right.
His kiss found her while she was sleeping, warm and soft and light against her lips. It was almost a dream, but then he brushed her bangs away from her face. Eyes fluttering open, she blinked until she made out his uneasy expression in the darkness.
"Hiccup?"
His exhale warmed her throat as his gaze searched her face. "I want to make you my wife."
"Why is your heart beating so fast?" she whispered in the darkness. Her palm pressed into his chest, feeling a quick thrum hammering beneath his ribcage.
"Isn't yours?" he whispered back. His hand skimmed up her bare stomach and found the same place on her body, just above her breast.
"Yeah."
"Why are you criticizing me, then? Worry about your own heart."
Her husband smelled like smoke and leather and he tasted like strong mead. He was inexperienced and awkward, but so was she, and the way his hands bracketed her waist felt good enough to forgive the imperfect rhythms and nervous swallows.
Ruffnut was right- he had blacksmith's hands. They were calloused and hardened, and she thought that part of that probably came from holding onto the handlebars of Toothless' saddle. They shouldn't have felt nice, as rough as they were, but she came to enjoy the scrape of his fingertips along the underside of her breasts. They were hands that she could memorize, recognize, appreciate. The kind of hands forged by hard work and a thousand fires.
She liked the way he muttered irreverent swears in her neck. She liked how he grabbed her hips and held her still when their friction nearly undid him. If she squeezed him with muscles she hardly knew she owned, he would cuss and weakly groan some threat in her ear. It made her laugh, which was strange, because she didn't ever think she'd laugh with him, much less laugh with him inside her. The breathless chuckles he breathed against her shoulder, those sounded almost as enticing as his rough panting.
He liked swallowing her moans. Whenever he'd stroke her just so or twist his hips so that his length reached deeper, he'd cover her mouth with his just in time to catch the answering whimper. There was no real need for them to whisper or keep quiet, but it almost felt as if by raising their voices, they'd break the strange cocoon of warmth and safety that surrounded them.
He finished before she did, which was expected. And part of her was happy to feel him tense above her, to feel him breaking within her. Because his pleasure made her happy. And another part felt a fierce disappointment and baffling amusement. Disappointment, because she hadn't wanted it to end. Amusement, because she'd once asked him to get it over with.
She shivered beneath the kisses he traced up and down her throat afterwards. Astrid decided that if Hiccup had shot her down like he'd done with Toothless, then this must be what it was like to fly again.