Here's the second chapter. :) just going along with it, describing what I think is necessary for character development (and for scenaric purposes :p), moving this along at my own pace. Don't want to rush it.

i do enjoy getting into the characters' minds whenever possible... Sometimes maybe even a little bit too much. :p

Thank you for all the reviews! A lot of people were really sweet, so thanks. Much appreciated. :)

CHAPTER TWO: introspective

He finally slumped down on the soft, earthly soil after his rush of adrenaline had started to die down. Toothless had landed just near a series of small streams of water, clear liquid flowing from between the green-speckled rocks, running down the hill of the mountain to pour into a small lake. The scenery was nothing short of idyllic; water clambered on down from the large natural formation, one of the sides of the largest mountains in Berk, its stone face alive with fauna and flora alike. From above, that bit of the mountain side looked less grey, less stony; more like a gigantic bush, covered in all colors – the green of the leaves, the lively colors of the many flowers upon it, the patterns created by the many a birds nesting upon the stones and roots.

Down below, boy and dragon were surrounded by the stone wall behind them, the lake in the middle, the forest all around. Up above, high in the clear blue sky the sun was shining joyous heat upon all those below it; and underneath, the grass was so green and thick it looked as if the ground had been dyed with the finest dyes trader Johann could find.

After they had both quenched their thirst, a tired yet content Toothless bounded away to sprawl over a sun-bathed rock, blissfully unaware of human-related problems. However, he could sense that his little human felt troubled, so he had nudged him caringly on the ribs with his large, scaly head before heading out. The dragon was soon sound asleep, leaving its rider alone with bitter thoughts.

While he'd been flying, Hiccup hadn't thought about any of this; during that one hour up in the air, he'd managed to keep his mind clear and concentrate only on feeling, and on controlling the flight – but he mostly let Toothless go where he liked, spiralling up and down the billowy clouds, skimming close to their own reflection upon the surface of the sea. All he'd cared about was the wind beating at his face and the thrill of the immensely high speed.

But now he was back on solid ground, those nagging thoughts came back to haunt him. He didn't want to marry some stranger. He didn't want his marriage to be arranged. He didn't want to be forced into it, with someone he didn't know. He didn't want to leave Astrid.

Astrid…

Hey! What kind of an idiot am I? Like Astrid would ever even consider marrying me… we're just playing around until a suitable candidate comes along. Or rather, she's the one playing around, to be honest…

But what's suitable, anyway? Hiccup was more than capable of paying a hefty bride-price to her parents; and no doubt his future position as a Chief was a major weigh-in. After all, his is the top of a Viking island's social ladder.

Oh, what in Hel's name am I thinking! He stood up, reprimanding himself for thinking about the whole thing as if it were an equation – he'd told his father not to think of him as an object, so why was he doing that to his… relationship with Astrid?

Actually, he could count himself lucky. Girls don't usually get asked how they felt about their marriage; many were just thrown into it, and told to deal with it and get to know their husbands from scratch. Same with the men, but at least they could voice their opinion on the negotiations. And Hiccup had done just so – he wanted that chance to court Astrid and win her heart, so that if the day ever came to sign a wedding contract she'd be as willing to go for it as he was.

Wait, what? He was? Did he want to marry Astrid? Where did that one come from? Well… actually…

It's not like he'd never even considered marriage before. In his younger years, he would oft daydream about the day he would become someone important, claiming Astrid's heart with effortless swoon. He would envision the awe-inspired faces of all those who shunned him as the wedding ceremony took its place, a grand event perfectly matching the appropriate magnitude of celebration.

His focus was not on the wedding itself; it was on the bond between him and his golden-haired, axe-wielding, fierce beloved. The wedding was more of a… prize. Something to have bragging rights over – not that he was ever a boaster; but still, it would be quite the victory to prove all those people wrong. Yes, the villaged hiccup could get the hot fierce girl. He wasn't just a screw-up, and he needed that to be shown… although, granted, thinking of marrying someone as proof that he was more successful was the wrong way to go about it.

It would never be just for the bragging rights, or the attention, Hiccup told himself as he stood up to stretch his legs. No, that's just me trying to justify the fact that, yes, I'd like to get married. To Astrid. Out of love, of course. I wonder if that's a girly thing to think?

Seldom had love ever been a prerequisite for Viking marriage, although it was considered ill fortune when one – or both – of the betrotheds were against the arrangement. No, wedlock was usually brought into existence as a necessity in his world – a much-needed alliance, the need for the dowry, a way to escape an unpleasant life – , but he was having a hard time coming to terms with that.

Why did traditions have to be such idiotic things? Could there not be some flexibility, some evolution in their ways? Vikings were stubborn, yes, and that's precisely why Hiccup strongly believed people should just go try to chase their happiness, write their own stories. Even so, when pressured in such a way, there were very few options left to choose from.

Still, marriage by love happened. Right? So they might have a chance. Well, he might have a chance. Maybe. Hopefully. After all, as few as they were, songs and poems had been written and sung in the memory of mighty passions that had existed in the Viking world. He wished he could be one of those cases.

But would he really risk a war between Viking tribes out of love for her?

He was afraid to even think it.

How about her?

If Astrid hadn't thought about it, they wouldn't be sneaking around all the time, would they? Everyone knew courtship was not an easy game for a man to play, because if the maiden's reputation was somehow at stake, then her family's was also on the slab – making it very dangerous to the suitor to work his charms.

Of course, when they were younger nobody would think they would be up to some less-than-innocent activities whenever they'd disappear for hours. And, truthfully, they weren't. Lately, however, people would notice, and they would gossip – and rightfully so. They would occasionally sneak around to be by themselves, and snogging was always a possibility. He did have the rest of the gang to thank; sometimes even unknowingly, they'd provided an alibi for the two of them to whisk away unnoticed.

He wondered if he'd had time to work his charms on Astrid. He hoped he'd at least gotten better at kissing; he still remembered that day she'd told him, "You can kiss me back, you know? Your head won't fall off," punching his arm afterward. The years had seemingly passed by in the blink of an eye…

He went on with his musings, strolling around the forest, kicking at leaves and rocks as he walked farther and farther away from the snoring Toothless, disappearing under the unsteady shade provided by the tall green-leafed trees.

He walked and walked and walked, and pondered, and mused, and wracked his brain about what his choices were and weren't. Occasionally he would close his eyes and reminisce on a particularly long kiss, only to be rudely awaken from his reverie by tripping on some rock or root, muttering mute curses under his breath.

Eventually he decided to turn back to find Toothless again. It was getting terribly hot even under the shade, the midday sun now burning brightly, a little bit too cheery for his sour mood. Absurdly hot, for Berk. Even so, he needed the sun's good mood; maybe the heat would help kill the mould he felt was forming around his core.

So he went for a dip when he arrived at his destination. Unfastening the buckles. Off with the leather and the wool. Off with his boot, his breeches and his smallclothes – and his prosthetic foot. Best not to overly-expose it to rust factors.

Carefully, clumsily, he hobbled into the mildly cool water, feeling refreshed and awakened. The small lake wasn't too deep, but he could at least still have a bit of a swim in it, so he did. His stump ached numbingly, but he ignored it and paddled along languidly, relishing the cold.

After a time he decided it was about time to leave the lake, and maybe during the afternoon they could go out flying somewhere else – he just needed to get away from it all for a while. So he turned to look at Toothless, ready to call at him, when he noticed his black-scaled friend had its ears up in the air, flipping about like antennae, its green eyes scouting the sky above.

"Someone's coming!" Hiccup whispered to himself as he scrambled around, as a sort of motivation to get out of the water faster. He managed to pull his breeches on before he heard the flap of dragon wings coming closer, and before he'd finished attaching his prosthetic, Astrid had landed on the ground nearby.

Well, there goes being alone with his thoughts. Now the main object of them was swooping in from above in all her glory. And on a fire-breathing dragon, which could prove dangerous.

"What's up with you, Hiccup?" she asked reproachfully as she clambered down from Stormfly. Her hair was tousled from the flight, her braids now half-undone, but she still looked fierce and beautiful as always, "What happened? You didn't even… Oh. Sorry."

She turned around when she noticed he was bare-chested, to allow him some privacy. But he simply finished up with his prosthetic and stood, tugging his breeches a little bit upwards so they wouldn't sit so low on his waist. He refused to put on his tunic and leather vest again – he didn't want to melt with the midday heat so soon after getting out of the cool water, while he still felt refreshed. Embarrassingly, he noted he'd forgotten his smallclothes on the ground.

"Why are you here?" he asked, a bit more coldly than he'd intended.

"I was worried, you idiot. You and your dad yelled at each other, and then you just jumped and took off. You were so angry. And I…" she turned back around to talk to him and noticed he was still shirtless, but aside from that small pause she made no comment or other movement, "I decided to come look for you. See if you needed someone to talk to. You know, vent?"

No. No, he wasn't talking to her about this messed-up situation. And how would he explain it? My father wants me to marry some girl from another tribe but I want to marry you instead, I think. Yeah, probably. That is, if you want to marry me, obviously… but why wouldn't you? I'm not a bad catch, all things considered. Please be mine?

But the words wouldn't come out, of course, so all he could muster was a choked up "I'm fine."

"You're lying," she insisted, walking up closer to him until she was at arm's reach, "is it really that bad? You never get that angry, Hiccup. It's not in you. I mean, come on, you're a happy drunk! An uncommon trait in a Viking," despite the jest, the look of defeat on his face said it all; yes, it's bad, and I don't want to talk about it. He didn't need to voice it this time.

"Okay, I won't push you. It's a private father-son business after all," she said, one hand on her hip and the other flipping about in the air in a movement of dismissal.

A sketch of a smile faintly graced Hiccup's face, and he heard himself chuckle softly.

They absent-mindedly walked over to where Stormfly was grooming, and he noticed the Nadder had some travel sacks strapped to the back of its saddle. Astrid saw his confused look.

"I threw some stuff into the bags because I thought, you know, you'd still be up for the… hot springs. You know," she shrugged feebly, a slender movement of her shoulders and slight tilt of her head, trying to sound casual about it.

He noticed the blush that had crept on to her cheeks, and he felt his own reddening in response. But his conscience tugged at him, and suddenly he was ridden with guilt. How could he go with her?

And to think he even had it all planned. He'd gotten his hands on a particularly thick and soft bearskin, even acquired especially scented candles from Trader Johann – who assured him those were the latest novelties, and smelled as sweet as the freshest flowers, prone to make any lady sigh in delight. They'd better, considering their cost. He even had a new linen tunic to wear for the occasion, finely embroidered… It was all back in his bedroom.

Some investment that was.

After what he'd been told, would he dare go? To another session of kissing, and caressing her arms, her shoulders, her neck, her back, and – Odin forgive – maybe even her thighs if the Gods were good to him… he shuddered to shake off the gooseprickles, and shook his head in an attempt to scare the ungainly thoughts away.

But they wouldn't go away, and his over-active mind tricked his hands into remembering how her skin felt like, tricked his lips into believing they had her taste upon them, tricked his tongue into searching for hers. He licked his lips as an automatic response, unthinking, but she noticed it nonetheless.

"You're awfully quiet… what are you thinking about?" He suddenly decided the ground to be very interesting. He had definitely not been thinking about kissing her, not at all.

"It's nothing, Astrid. Really," but his gaze was still on the ground. Suddenly he felt like the kid who was always shy around his crush. Like those years of boosted confidence had seemingly gone down the drain.

"Okay," she said, in that tone of voice that suggested she wasn't quite buying it, "I just wanted to be of help. You weren't exactly acting like the Hiccup I know back there," she shrugged. She always tried to act like she didn't really care, but she did.

He knew she was concerned, and he appreciated that. In a way, he was glad she'd found him. But all the while, he was having a hard time having her nearby, conflicted as he was. He thanked her for respecting his privacy, and then they chose to sit under the shade of a large oak tree, admiring the landscape silently.

He loved that companionship between them. They could be around each other doing whatever, no words spoken, and yet it was almost always a comfortable silence, where they just appreciated being together without the rest of the group and their… well… loudness. However, right at this moment it was really loud inside Hiccup's head, what with all the inner turmoil and the tug-of-war of his consciousness.

Like his mind was a battlefield, and none of the sides was anywhere close to becoming victor just yet; but there were already many casualties: his brain cells. Leading them onto battle, both yelling as loudly as possible were two entities, each clad in the finest armour Vikings had ever seen. Much finer armour than ever could be found in Berk, the kind of armour they produced in Lysminnae, the Isle of Wonders it was also called; and indeed it was wondrous. Hiccup should know, he had stumbled upon it while exploring, months ago.

The memories brought a smile to his face. He had hoped he could one day visit again, and he'd even wished Astrid would go with him to this exotic and welcoming place. As if on cue she broke the silence, shaking him from his thoughts.

"Did you bring your sketchbook?" she asked, hopeful – and of course, unaware of Hiccup's wonderings. He hadn't, he'd forgotten to slip it inside his vest this morning before breaking his fast with the gang, so he just shook his head.

"Oh, that's too bad. I like watching you doodle," she said. He made to protest at her jape, but only grunted in amusement as she shimmied on closer to him, her head resting on his naked shoulder, her windswept hair tickling his back. And when her hand came snaking up to hold his, he just squeezed her fingers ever so gently and planted a kiss on the crown of her golden head.

Even though they were sitting on the solid ground, their hearts were soaring through places far higher than their dragons could ever hope to fly to.

END OF CHAPTER

So! There's that. I wanna do this according to perspectives, not necessarily a character per chapter but I'll go with the flow. :)

Opinions? Mistakes? Anything you wanna say? Maybe send some candy my way? Please do!

Also: breeches are, basically, pants. Smallclothes are, well, underwear. And though men and women have different smallclothes, of course, the name was the same (if I'm wrong about it please do tell!)

As for "Lysminnae" - just some name I came up with...