The previous night had been like a dream, and the morning was no less surreal.

Astrid was standing in the kitchen, pajamas hastily thrown on and covered by a tired robe, feet in a pair of colorful sleeper socks. The morning she had awoken to was completely white: white ground, white sky, white trees, and silent. She could hear her heart beating in her ears as she stared out the window, pulse slow and serene, her head trapped in its own dream world and refusing to leave it.

When she had woke, the proof that, yes, she and Hiccup had made love, was still deep in sleep beside her buried up to his nose in blankets. The entire length of his body was flush against hers, naked skin sweating from the heat of his quilts. Sleeping in Hiccup's bed was like sleeping on a toasty cloud because of the layers of blankets he kept on it, yet he still snuggled against Astrid the whole night as if he were freezing. This morning had found him with his head on her shoulder, arms tucked up against his body, snoring like a delicate chainsaw. She would have liked to spend the morning soaking up his heat, watching his ribs expand and contract as he breathed, and his face twitch in sleep, but her bladder had forced her up. Damn killjoy.

So here she was, too awake to go back to sleep but too drowsy to do anything but stare unblinkingly at the winter oasis outside.

Footsteps thumped softly against the floor of the kitchen, accompanied by a quiet yawn. Astrid turned her head slightly in the direction of the sound, but she knew who it was. Hiccup stood behind her and nosed her hair, sighed sleepily and laid his chin on her shoulder, hooking his arms around her waist. Astrid smirked when she realized he had in fact gotten dressed and thrown on a robe of his own, a huge thing that swallowed his tiny frame whenever he wore it. She leaned back gently into him, placing her hands on top of his.

"What are you doing up?" she asked, "It's seven in the morning."

Hiccup yawned again, and out of the corner of her eye Astrid could see that his eyes were closed.

"I was cold," he said.

Astrid shook her head. "You were cold. Really."

"Mhmm. You kept me warm all last night, and then you left. You're keeping me warm now."

A warm, cozy bubble rose up from her groin and settled in her chest. She found she really liked this Hiccup, with his affectionate nuzzles and his thick just-woke-up voice. "Guess I'll just have to spend every night with you. So you stay warm."

"You might have to," he agreed, kissing her ear.

"God, stop being so cute."

"Don't wanna."

She laughed, and reached one of her arms back to settle in his hair, stroking it. Hiccup sighed and his body instantly grew heavier, leaning his head against hers. The action, combined with her body's memory of their lovemaking the night before (she was still sore between her legs), sparked something slow, snuggly, and deeply affectionate in the girl who was famous for her sailor's mouth. She felt closer to this scrawny beanpole than she ever had in her life, and she wanted to tell Hiccup that, but she didn't want to sound like a sap.

Eh, thankfully Hiccup didn't mind if she sounded like a sap.

"Thank you," she murmured, "For last night."

Hiccup tensed a bit behind her, and his response made her want to crack up. "You…you did like it?"

Astrid couldn't help snorting a little anyway, "It was a bit awkward at times, but I'd still say 'like' is a bit of an understatement."

"Oh. Good."

She pressed her rear against his groin not-so-subtly, and noted his surprised grunt with glee.

"It…that wasn't how I expected my first time to be," she explained, "I mean, everyone tells you that sex is just raw passion and it's all about the pleasure. But when I was with you, I don't know, I felt the passion. And the pleasure."

She could practically feel Hiccup's face heating up at her words, the blush crawling down his neck.

"But I felt like I was being comforted too. Last night's sex felt safe and sweet, and it made me feel so close to you. And this morning, when I was there in your bed, still naked and everything…"

Astrid could have been hearing things, but she could have sworn she heard Hiccup swallow hard next to her.

"…all I could think was, 'this is it, this is where everything feels right. I don't want to be anywhere else. I want to wake up next to this guy every morning.' I've felt so restless and scared for so long, it was nice to feel content for once."

Hiccup whimpered, and Astrid didn't think he meant to, because he covered it up with a kiss to her neck, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"I…uh," he stammered, "I can't think of anything to say to that other than I've wanted the same thing. I just thought I was crazy."

The hand in his hair returned to his hands around her waist, patting it soothingly. There was a subtle quiver to his core and a thickness to his voice that said he spoke the truth and desired to say more, but he felt he would never be able to find words adequate enough to speak his thoughts. She clucked with sympathy.

"Sorry," she said, "That was a bit overwhelming for so early in the morning."

Hiccup nodded, "Yes, but it was the most wonderful thing I've heard in my life."

They slipped into silence for a while, drinking each other in, each feeling the heat and scent of the other body and allowing it to mingle with the dreamy snowscape just beyond the window. Astrid shifted, and found herself looking down at their hands. Hiccup had finally grown into the long limbs and fingers he possessed when she first met him in the emergency room in the hospital. He was still a bit gawky, yes, but overall he had turned into a gorgeous, sweet thing that had managed to do what no one else had done before; cool Astrid Hofferson's temper and turn it into a powerful, protective force called love.

For some reason, when she looked at their joined hands, it wasn't hard to imagine matching silver bands on their ring fingers.

"Is this what it would be like?" she mused.

"Is what what would be like?" Hiccup questioned.

Astrid sunk a little further against him, and when she spoke again, it was in a voice so quiet and vulnerable she couldn't believe it came out of her.

"If we were married."

Hiccup's eyes opened then, but his body remained relaxed, as if the notion didn't alarm him. Yet, he knew as she did what the doctors had said. Her cancer wasn't getting any better. Chances were good she wouldn't live to see thirty.

She would never live long enough to marry Hiccup.

"I would think so," he murmured, "At least, some mornings would be like this. Some we would be too pissed at each other, or too tired, or we might miss each other entirely. If nothing else it'd be easier to have sex if we were married."

Astrid laughed in agreement, and for reason felt compelled to lift one of his hands around her waist to her lips and kiss it. She felt Hiccup watch her do it, his breath warm against the skin of her neck.

"I'd take care of you," she promised hoarsely.

"I'd take care of you too." His voice sounded tight, like he was trying to swallow something but couldn't.

"Yeah, we'd argue sometimes," she whispered, "We'd be exhausted sometimes. We wouldn't always have time for each other. But I feel like, no matter what, there would always be that sense of love whenever we'd be with each other. That's what it's like to love your companion, your best friend. If I could have that, I could die happy."

Hiccup's breath shuddered behind her, and when she finally turned around to face him, she saw that his chin was quivering and his eyes were shining with tears. Without a word, she pulled him back into an embrace, rubbing his back and nuzzling her face in his shoulder while he buried his in her hair. His breaths were heavy as he tried to rein in his emotions, and Astrid held him through it all.

"Would you marry me?" Astrid whispered after his breathing had evened out a little.

She felt Hiccup nod beside her, his throat too tight for him to squeeze any words out, and she clung to him a little tighter.

And just behind the doorway that led into the kitchen, Valka had heard it all, and she let her face fall into her hands, biting back curses, wondering for the millionth time why life had chosen her son and this poor girl as its punching bag.