II.

If he didn't call Stoick the Vast his father, Astrid would never recognize Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. That boy from her childhood had been eaten by some sort of dragon. The chief had mourned him so fiercely that Berk was thrown into chaos for several months. He'd sworn he would destroy every dragon in Midgard, setting sail on numerous hunts instead of fulfilling many of his duties. He became vicious, dark, and eternally sad.

That boy was skinny. Small. Obnoxious and always in the way. Annoyingly good at dragon training, for all the good it did him. Hiccup is dead.

And yet, he's looking at her with a fire that is very much alive.

The dragon master- not Hiccup, it can't be Hiccup- clenches his jaw and crosses his arms over his chest. There's a strange, barely restrained contempt in his expression that she can't recall ever seeing from the boy she used to know. "Well?" he asks, and she suddenly remembers that he's spoken to her.

"Hiccup?" she hisses, her arms tingling painfully as the blood rushes back into her hands and fingers. "You can't be alive."

His brows rise, and the corner of his mouth twitches up in a ghost of a sardonic grin. "There I go again. Always messing up, right?"

Beneath her, the dragon makes a deep grumbling noise. Then it shakes, dislodging her from the saddle and sending her sprawling on the stone floor. Astrid's head cracks against the ground, and she cries out. When she sits up and lifts a still-throbbing hand to her skull, she realizes her bridal crown has fallen aside.

She wants to glare, but the bafflement is too strong. "I saw your stuff in the cove," she informs him. "Scales in the grass. Your bloodstains on the rocks."

"Toothless'," he explains tersely. The Night Fury strides around him once, earning a pat, and then wanders off to stretch out by the fire. "Side effect of having your tail ripped in half."

"Toothless?" she breathes. It's the second time he's said that word.

The dragon master motions at the black beast stretching out his talons like a cat's paws. "The first dragon whose blood I spilled. And the last."

She tears her gaze down his body. It's strange that she's watched it so often for the past two years without knowing who it belonged to. He's tall. Lean. Not exactly broad, but not nearly the bony twerp he used to be. His face has narrowed, and a dusting of facial hair darkens his jaw. All the childhood has faded away and left his cheekbones sharp, the planes of his face hard and masculine. The green eyes set in his features should be the closest to what she remembers. Should be. But they're not.

They're much colder.

When she doesn't immediately jump to her next questions- how he left Berk, and why he came back- he pushes away from the cavern wall and starts towards the fire. In the far back, just barely illuminated by the yellow glow, she can almost make out a bed of furs. Hiccup strolls over to it and extracts something from the pile. A flask.

"So, first they're trying to give me presents. Now they want to see me happy and settled with a nice girl?" Uncapping his drink, he takes a heavy swig. "Sweet of them."

Astrid pushes herself to her feet, wishing she had the nerve to walk straight past his Night Fury and put an end to his sarcastic ice. But she's intimidated by his army of sleeping dragons. "Take me back," she growls, stepping forward until Toothless pins her in a warning gaze.

Hiccup snorts, stretching out on the bed and bringing the flask to his mouth again. The shadows make him look even more like a stranger. "Come on, Astrid. On our wedding night?"

"You know why they did this and you took me anyways!" She can't help but raising her voice. "Take me back!"

"Let me get this straight," he laughs, leaning forward and resting his elbow on his knee. "Your village put you in a wedding dress. Tied you up. Gave you up to a stranger they knew would very likely rape or kill you. And you're dying to go back to them?"

"Your village too," she snarls.

His expression, which has been mostly casual since he removed his helmet, turns dark. He bares his teeth in a movement that is scarily dragon-like. "I'm not one of them," he denies with a shocking frostiness.

"Obviously not." Astrid glares. She feels ridiculous in her pretty white dress, dressed up like a girl in a costume. "You're a traitor."

Hiccup nods, the daggers in his eyes shifting away from her face. "I'd rather be a traitor than a killer."

"You'd rather turn your back on your village," she bites, giving the Night Fury a wide berth as she makes her way around the fire to approach him. "Letting people die, starve- children growing up in homes burned down by dragons every week. And you live with the same beasts that attack your people in cold blood."

He stands and meets her gaze. "You're exactly the same. Trying so hard to be Berk's champion when you don't know the first thing about what you're fighting."

"And you're still the weak, selfish boy who could never pick a side." Her accusation is a whisper sharper than the edge of a knife. "I'd rather have been taken by the demon everyone thinks you are than a treasonous dragon-sympathizer."

Astrid can see the way her words snap his spine straight like the crack of a whip. A strange shadow overtakes his features, and then he takes a long draw from the flask in his hand before tossing it to the floor. It clatters loudly, making a couple of the dragons curled in the dark growl and shift. Hiccup's hands go to his bizarre armor, snatching free the clasps and buckles with claw-like fingers. He sheds the dark leather first, and then the black shirt beneath.

"What are you doing?" She takes a step backwards, her eyes flickering over his bare torso. Scars litter the planes of his chest and stomach. Strange, spidery lines explode from his shoulder and race down his body. Silvery gashes are slashed in the slope of his neck. And from his hip, tattooed dragon scales crawl up his side. She's not sure why, but her heart begins to pound.

"Giving you what you want." His hand goes to his belt, yanks it undone. Faster than she can block, he razes the space between them and slams her back against the cave wall.

Alarm screams through her as Hiccup's mouth comes down hard and cruel against hers. She tries to push him away, to fight him off, but he grips her forearms bruisingly and secures them by her face. The heat of him bleeds through her dress, searing her skin in a way she's sure will leave ashes. He shoves his hips against her, and the buckle of his belt digs into her stomach. A noise not unlike a terrified whimper slips from her lips and into his. But a black kind of excitement is unraveling too.

"Hiccup, stop!" she pleads when she finally tears her face away. She tastes blood. She's not sure what horrifies her most- his unforgiving hands or the fluttering of her heart that isn't completely fear. His mouth moves to her neck, biting and licking at her throat. "Please don't."

"You'd rather have this," he hisses, and then he's tugging at her skirts. "You want this kind of kidnapper, don't you?"

She feels his hand on her thigh. Her whimper turns into a shriek. "No! Hiccup, please stop!"

And just like that, he does. Her attacker all but throws her hands back to her sides, pushing away from the wall and wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. But he doesn't stop glowering. As their labored breaths echo off the stone in watery waves, she realizes that the Night Fury has snapped to attention. Other dragons, too, have opened their eyes to stare with agitated apprehension.

"I could be exactly what they think I am," Hiccup says quietly. "And if I were half as selfish as you think I am I wouldn't have stopped." He reaches for his shirt on the bed and yanks it back over his head. "So be thankful I'm just a treasonous dragon-sympathizer."

Astrid's fingers grip the slick wall at her back like it's the only thing keeping her standing. Her knees feel like they might give out beneath her. Her tongue slips out to feel where his teeth cut her bottom lip.

Finally- finally- he tears his gaze away from her. "Come on, Toothless," he mutters under his breath, snatching his armor from the ground and striding away from the light of the fire. "Let's let my wife get used to her new bed."

The dragon tilts his head at her, evaluating her terrified expression with blinking curiosity. And then he turns and disappears after his rider.