A/N: This is an AU story of how Hiccup's life could have turned out if he failed to shoot down Toothless when he did.

I apologise yet again for the long period between updates, so to make up for my idleness I'll be uploading two chapters for you guys this week.

Also, if anyone would like to recommend my story on one of them fancy community thingymabobs, that would be grand.

Disclaimer: I do not own How To Train Your Dragon, all I own is a devilishly handsome face.

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Astrid Hofferson sat alone in the dark, lifeless hut she'd awoken in not an hour before. After the sudden shock at waking up in an unfamiliar place, she'd felt the sharp pain in her side and frantically cast her mind back to how she'd been injured. The images flashed through her mind in a cruel roulette, the shouts and screams of her fallen brethren, the heat of the dragons' flame stifling the air around her, the impact of the Nadder spike sending her tumbling to the ground. Over and over, the images replayed themselves in the girl's mind, and the panic and fear set in.

How could it have gone so badly?

It had seemed so simple, really. Astrid had often mused to herself on how much of a difference it would make to Berk's fortunes if a small team of capable warriors was to be posted by the paddocks to guard the livestock, so the idea was always going to be one of the first suggestions the girl would make upon becoming the heir. And Stoick had agreed, hadn't he? If there were a flaw to her plan, their wise, battle-hardened Chief would surely have pointed it out and shot her idea down, but he'd agreed.

And so Astrid had ordered the first group of Vikings she'd laid eyes on to head to the paddocks and await her arrival, for they were to be given an important job to do. The men and women had wholeheartedly agreed and had trotted to their post with nary a grumble of discontent. After a short disagreement with the elder Ingerman, who had dared to question her heir's decision to enlist two eager, albeit young, recruits to the fire brigade (a decision she felt was inspired), she'd joined up with her squad and held them all captive with a rousing speech, articulating the importance of their task and how honoured they would all be when they succeeded in driving off the thieving beasts and protecting Berk's animals. Oh, how they'd lapped up her words, allowed the words of hope and strength to fill them with determination and steel, ready to lay their lives down for Berk and even more, for Astrid.

And they had.

Astrid knew that all but herself had perished, for every time she closed her eyes the faces of the fallen were etched onto the insides of her eyelids, taunting her, driving her mad with the memory of her failure, for not only had she failed to prevent Berk's livestock from being carried away in the dragons' claws, she had failed to protect the lives of her fellow tribe members.

Astrid's first foray into leadership had been an unmitigated disaster on every account, and she had no one to blame but herself.

The blonde Viking sat for a while more, punishing herself with the detailed memories of her failure and the horrors she had witnessed during the battle until her memory happened upon a hazy fog, unclear images only suggesting what could have happened next. She knew that she had been injured, the deep throbbing wound in her side was a testament to that, and she had fallen to the ground, but how had she survived?

Vaguely, she remembered two figures, men she decided, had arrived and discovered her fallen form sprayed on the bloody ground, but they hadn't carried her away for medical attention straight away. Why was that? Had they stopped to survey the battlefield, piece together what had happened and decide whether she deserved to be saved at all?

Nevertheless, the two men had clearly brought her to safety so it was her duty to learn their identities and proclaim her gratitude, even if it did grate upon the girl that she had needed saving at all.

Astrid pushed aside her self-pitying thoughts with a mental heave and settled back into reviewing the battle, finding peace and serenity in searching for flaws in her tactics and skills as she had done so many times before, already forming plans and strategies on how to improve and come back stronger than ever.

Slowly, Astrid's eyelids began to droop, her tired, battered body demanding rest, and as the girl struggled with her hopeless fight against sleep the last conscious image that flashed across her mind was of a roaring fire, spreading high and wide around a tall man whose features were so shrouded in shadow that Astrid could not begin to recognise his identity but for one small clue.

The intense green eyes that seared into her mind's eye and to her soul.

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Rumbling voices filtered through the young Viking's mind, pulling her from her slumber gradually. As consciousness took ahold of her, Astrid blearily opened her eyes and looked around. She was still in what she now recognised as Gothi's hut if the healing herbs and pastes scattered around the room were anything to go by, and the sunlight creeping through the open doorway suggested that she had slept for a while. Astrid's attention was quickly diverted however to the open doorway, where three figures were talking in low, hushed voices. Well, two of them were, and they didn't sound happy. Sneakily, the girl closed her eyes and burrowed under the covers to feign sleep, hoping to hear what they were talking about.

"The girl must be punished, Stoick. There is no excuse for what she did, heir or not, and she must learn the consequences of making such poor decisions." It seemed that Gobber was present, and as one of the very few Vikings who could discern Gothi's markings it was understandable, but the man didn't sound happy at all. It seemed strange to Astrid to hear the steel and anger in the man's voice, he was usually a jovial and kind man, if a stern teacher nonetheless. Her musings were cut off by a loud sigh, and the loud, booming voice of her Chief answered the blacksmith.

"She will be. She will be punished, and she will apologise publically to the families of the fallen. She will-". The large man stopped suddenly, and Astrid was confused as to why. She soon found out the reason however when her covers were pulled abruptly back, and a burning pain emitted from her wound. Her eyes shot open and she hissed in pain, arms flung out to fight off her attacker. She just about held herself back once she saw the old gnarled face of the Gothi, ancient healing hands pressed down on the wound in Astrid's side. The old woman's eyes found Astrid's, and the girl could see the message written clearly in the wise blue depths: Don't fight, it will only make it worse.

Her sudden show of alertness had brought the two older men over to her bedside, and as the Gothi re-wrapped her bandages, Astrid chanced a glance at the two suddenly towering figures. Anger and scorn were etched clearly onto the face of the blacksmith, who looked as if he wanted to either tear her head clean from her shoulders or storm out of the room as soon as he could, and Astrid dearly hoped he chose the second option. Astrid felt extreme trepidation as her eyes sought out the face of her Chief, the man who had named her as his heir, and what she found there hurt her more than a thousand Nadder spiked could.

Stoick looked down at her with an expression she had seen many times before but never directed towards her. How often had she seen the disappointed scowl, the barely restrained anger of the Chief of Berk towards Hiccup? Whenever the scrawny boy left disaster in his wake, he could be sure to receive that look from Stoick once his mistake was caught, and the boy had always withered under its gaze, sinking into himself like a dying wildflower, and Astrid had always looked at him with resentment, feeling the boy should show some backbone and not shrink under the slightest bit of anger, and yet now Astrid felt herself involuntarily mimicking the former heir's actions, pulling herself smaller in a show of meekness and vulnerability.

The girl's heart was racing, threatening to burst out of her chest it was beating that hard against her breastbone. Gathering up all of her resolve and Viking spirit, she carefully swung her legs around until they were resting on the floor and pulled her back up straight, awaiting the Chief's words. Her valiance didn't stretch far enough to raise her head, however, and she stared fearfully at the wooden floor, wringing her hands and beginning to sweat profusely.

The silence stretched for a few minutes, and Astrid wished for the ground to swallow her up whole. Gone was the angry Chief she'd seen deal with Hiccup, who immediately cut the boy through with acidic words and admonishments. Now, Stoick seemed happy to let the girl wait for her dressing down, seeming to know that the anticipation would torture her. Absently, she tucked the information away in her mind, it was a good tactic to use against your enemies. Her eyes widened at the thought, what does that make me?

A cleared throat caused the girl's head to snap to attention, though she dearly wished it hadn't, for that look was still there. She knew enough to know that she shouldn't lower her head again, as the Chief's anger was still visible, simmering away despite his best efforts to contain it. Swallowing, Astrid ventured "Chief?"

The man's scowl deepened as he glared down at the girl. "Astrid. I hope your recovery is going well?" The girl nodded once, and Stoick's eyes darkened. "Good, at least you'll get better, which is more than I can say for the two Vikings we lost during the raid, all thanks to you."

Astrid immediately felt shame at the man's words, he was right, thanks to her foolish actions two...wait, two? That meant that some of her team had survived!

"Chief? You said two people had died? I thought that all of them had been killed during the battle?" The Chief shook his large head at the girl, readying himself to give her the news of Gustav and Woodnut's grisly fate.

"No, you were correct in your assumption, every one of the warriors who accompanied you in the defence of the paddocks perished. But those Vikings, good Vikings, are not the loss I am angry about, Astrid. It was the deaths of two youngsters, children, that has shaken my faith in my chosen heir!" By the end, Stoick's voice had risen loud enough to shake the foundations of the hut, and Astrid had to fight to keep herself from covering her ears with her hands. By the time the walls had ceased to shake, the man's angry words sunk in, and Astrid felt like she'd been struck across the face by Thor himself.

Stoick leaned in towards Gobber and spoke low into the man's ear, too quiet for Astrid to hear even if she had been trying to listen instead of trying to prevent the world from crashing down around her, and the blacksmith nodded once and left the room. Gothi shuffled out after the man, leaving Astrid alone with the furious Chief.

The large man sank down into the chair opposite Astrid's bed, quietly waiting for the realisation to sink into the girl's mind. After a few minutes silence, the light returned to the girl's blue eyes, and she looked up tearfully at the man. Stoick let out a long sigh and gave her a nod of understanding. He'd been a young and inexperienced Chief once, and some of his decisions had lead to the deaths of his people. He knew the pain and shame the girl would feel, so part of him could sympathise with Astrid, but the simple fact remained that he had never been the cause of the deaths of children, so Astrid's punishment had to be swift and public.

"Astrid." The girl tried to pull herself together, wiping away the growing tears with her arm. "Yes, Chief?"

Stoick straightened his back, unconsciously switching into his Chief mindset over that of a mentor. "Your decision to enlist Gustav and Woodnut into the fire brigade was rash and unthoughtful, not to mention your disrespect towards Hilde Ingerman, and was a direct cause in the gruesome deaths of the two." Stoick took great pains to keep his voice clear and level, despite the anger growing once more at the memory of what had happened.

"H-How did they die, Chief? I need to know...I need to know what I did." Stoick was impressed with the girl's repentance but doubted that she'd be able to handle the details of what had transpired. On the one hand, not knowing would spare the girl's conscience, allowing her to move on from the whole sorry debacle, but on the other, she needed to know exactly what had transpired to let the lesson sink in fully. Coming to a decision, the man spoke once more, the grief lacing into his voice. "Gustav and Woodnut handled themselves well, according to Fishlegs Ingerman, but their obvious inexperience and rashness would lead to tragedy. The brigade came upon a house that, really, was beyond saving, but Gustav decided he wanted to take it on. He ran into the house, ignored the shouts from the older, more experienced heads, and was soon followed by young Woodnut." Stoick removed his helmet, holding it in his hands. He began to turn the helmet over and over in his large hands, building the courage to continue with his tale. Astrid motioned for him to continue, and with a long drawn-out intake of air, the man delivered the news to his heir.

"The house collapsed. The support beams had been damaged too greatly, and the whole thing fell down. Gustav was still inside, there was no chance of survival, but Woodnut hadn't quite made it past the threshold. A beam fell down, striking her across the face and setting her hair alight. The heat...cooked her brain inside of her skull. It wasn't a quick death, it was terrible, painful death. Whilst your friends, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, frantically hurried their baby sister to what they hoped would be salvation, young Fishlegs waited for the flames to die down enough to recover Gustav's corpse. I saw them both, and I know that the sight will stay with me until the day I make my journey to Valhalla."

By the end of the tale, Astrid's body wracked with silent sobs, and as soon as the man finished she openly began to bawl, not caring about showing weakness in front of her Chief. She'd killed them, she'd killed them both. Two children, one the younger sibling of her friends, would never see the light of another sun, never enter Dragon Training, never find loved ones for themselves and have children. All that awaited them was a burning ship to the afterlife, and it was all her fault.

Suddenly, the girl shot to her feet, determined to leave the room, but a strong hand held her back by the arm and spun her around until she was face to face with Stoick the Vast. "Where are you going, Astrid?"

"I need to go! I need to go and make things right! I-I need to apologise...to everyone. I killed them, Chief." The man rose to his feet, hands clamped down on the girl's shoulders.

"You will, Astrid. Right now. You've been here for four days-" The girl's head shot up, alarmed. She hadn't known how long she'd been unconcious, though it made sense considering her wounds. "-and Gothi tells me you are now strong enough to move. So we will go now, to the village square, and you will apologise publically to the families of the fallen. And then..."

The girl tilted her head at the man. "And then?"

Stoick lowered his head to his chest and closed his eyes. In a way, this was as hard for him as it would be for her.

"And then, you will face your punishment."

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Astrid stood, eyes forward, as Stoick gave his speech to the village, explaining what Astrid's punishment would be and how it would be delivered. Astrid didn't care about the details however, she'd known as seen as she laid eyes on the post what would come. She'd only ever heard of this happening once before to a man called Alvin, long before she was born, and before that, no one in living memory knew. And yet here she was, naked from the waist up, front pressed up against the post with her arms tied around it.

Twenty lashes, to be administered by Woodnut's parents, the twins, Gustav's parents, Stoick himself, Fishlegs, Snotlout and...Hiccup. When Stoick had announced his decision on Astrid's punishment, he had requested each of them to deliver two lashes each. The family members were obvious choices, as well as Stoick as the Chief. Fishlegs was chosen thanks to the horrific trauma he'd suffered in having to carry Gustav's burnt corpse to his parents, and Snotlout and Hiccup were chosen as a reward for their heroism during the raid, though Astrid knew Stoick meant something else in his choice. Having Hiccup hand out two lashes, coincidentally the final two, would hurt her more than anyone else, even her parents. This was the boy she had been chosen to replace because she was everything he wasn't. She was the smart, brave, fierce warrior, and he was the hiccup. But now? Now the hiccup was a hero, a respected warrior thanks to his actions, and she was in disgrace, a failure as an heir on every level, and using Hiccup was supposed to show her how far she had fallen.

Still, Astrid doubted that even the pain of the whip could hurt more than the apology she had given to the victims' families. Whereas Gustav's parents had merely shrugged aside her futile attempts at apologising, Woodnut's parent's had spat at her feet before she could even utter a word before walking to the whip line, waiting to deliver her punishment. The twins had lingered for a moment longer, never speaking a word. They didn't need to, she knew the look in their eyes meant they would do everthing in their power to make Astrid's life Hel. And really, she deserved it, didn't she?

She was drawn from her thoughts by heavy footfalls approaching her before a large hand dangled something in front of her face. She strained to turn her head enough to see who had approached and saw the stone-face of her father, who said nothing to her other than to nod his head at what he held before her. A piece of bark, evidently to bite down on and prevent screams of pain. Once Astrid had bitten down on the offering, her father walked away without another glance, and it felt like the twenty lashes had already been administered.

Distantly, her mind registered Stoick's shout for the first lash to delivered, and Astrid attempted to steel herself for the pain to come. She slowed her breathing down and closed her eyes, biting down on the piece of bark. All the warning she had was a sharp crack ringing around, and then the pain came.

Oh Odin, how it hurt! Already she could feel the wound welling up, blood trickling down her back. Not a moment later, a second crack was heard, and yet more pain raced across the girl's back, and she bit down as hard as she could on the bark, tears streaming down her face. The only thing preventing the girl from struggling against her bonds and trying to free herself was the memory of the last time she had spoken to Gustav and Woodnut and the eagerness the two had felt at Astrid's order, the order that led them to their deaths.

Crack! Pain. Blood. Screams. Crack! God's, how could she take twenty of these?

A minute passed without another stroke, and Astrid opened her eyes and looked behind her. Tuffnut was holding the whip, his usual expressive face empty of all emotion as he stared at the girl before him. Closing her eyes and facing forward once more, Astrid allowed herself a small nod of acceptance. Tuffnut was waiting, waiting for the pain of the previous lashes to settle down before opening up another wound on her back, making it hurt all the more. And he had every right to, he'd lost his baby sister thanks to her.

Crack! Astrid felt proud that she hadn't wet herself yet, the pain was so great.

Two minutes now, Astrid could feel the blood pooling at her feet. A loud cough was heard, perhaps it was Stoick or her father, and Tuffnut's second stroke lashed across her back, catching her left elbow on the way. This time, Astrid bit down so hard that she shattered the piece of bark. She spat out the chippings, and her breath came out in heavy, painful burst.

Ruffnut was next, and she took up a different, yet infinitely more painful strategy to her brother. Instead of aiming for her back, Ruffnut's quick stokes impacted her legs, one after the other, and Astrid cried out loudly, voice filled with pain. The village was silent as they watched the punishment, other than the sound of bitter laughter behind her. She knew the other girl was enjoying administering the punishment, but thankfully she'd already fulfilled her quota.

Crack! Crack!

Apparently not! Two more lashes across her legs and Astrid cried out once more. Ruffnut's laughter was much louder now, the sadistic joy evident for all to hear. Craning her neck around, Astrid looked at the girl, wondering why she had been allowed an extra two strokes. She received her answer however when she saw Gustav's mother nod towards Ruffnut and step back into the throng beside her husband. Ah, Gustav's parents had given up their lashes to Ruffnut, knowing the girl would make sure it hurt as much as possible. Smart, really.

Crack! Crack! Odin, when will it end?

Breathing quickly, Astrid struggled to hold herself up with the pain in her legs. She felt faint and weak, and judging by the large pool of blood she was now standing in, it was no surprise.

CRACK!

Oh, Gods! Oh sweet Freyja, that hurt! That must have been Stoick, nobody else could have struck with that much force. Seven more, Astrid, just seven-CRACK!

Astrid threw up, not caring that it sprayed all over her chest, and audibly began to cry. She didn't care how weak she appeared to the onlooking village, let's see any one of them take this and still keep their dignity!

Crack! Fishlegs' heart wasn't in it, it seemed, for his first lash had been much weaker than any that came before it, but by now every lash was hitting an already open wound, causing her immense pain and blood to pour out. Crack! Four more, just four more and then she could find a nice cave to crawl into and die.

Crack! Crack! Snotlout followed in Fishlegs' footsteps, lightening his strokes and delivering them as quickly as possible to minimise the pain. Astrid never imagined she'd think it but thank Thor for Snotlout.

Just two more to go and Astrid believed that these would be the worst. Astrid looked back, towards the boy, her childhood friend, who would deliver the final two lashes. Hiccup stood with his head lowered, whip in hand, and Astrid just stared at the boy. He looked...strong. Almost as if something had changed in him fundamentally that allowed him to exude confidence and strength he'd never had before. Gone was the nervous and stuttering boy, who'd be more likely to whip himself than her, to be replaced by a man, a warrior, who would do his duty to his tribe. As Astrid stared at the boy, who adjusted his grip on the whip, readying his strike, she realised how they'd practically switched places. Now, it was she who was the hiccup, the disappointing heir to the tribe, and he the capable warrior, the teenage prodigy whose hands the village could trust with their safety. Oh, the whims of the Gods.

Hiccup raised his head, and his eyes met hers. His green eyes. Astrid gasped, those were the eyes from her dream! But that meant-CRACK!

"AHH!" Astrid craned her back as much as her position allowed and cried out to the sky above, mind clouded over with pain not just of the physical kind but mental also. She knew that it would hurt more coming from Hiccup, but Thor she hadn't realised how much, not to mention how he'd suddenly acquired the strength of his father in administering the lash. But then, if their positions had been reversed, Astrid knew she'd have held no punches herself.

Panting, Astrid raised her head once more and locked gazes with those powerful green eyes. Hiccup's face was blank, jaw set firm, making it clear that he held no qualms performing the task of punishing Astrid. In his eyes, Astrid searched for the compassion and kindness she'd once been accustomed to seeing, but there was no emotion swimming in the emerald depths. Hiccup raised his hand back, and time seemed to slow to a halt. Astrid and Hiccup stared at each other, one silently pleading, the other cool and distant. Astrid's eyes filled with tears, and she silently mouthed "Please."

CRACK!

Astrid sagged against her bonds, feeling the incredible pain course through her body. Footsteps approached and with a quick motion the ropes holding her arms around the post were cut, and Astrid fell fully to the ground. The girl lay on her front, crying her heart out, not caring a jot about anyone watching.

She definitely didn't care about the warm wetness gathering in her groin area, even though some of the younger children began to point it out to the crowds.

Somebody crouched down beside her, and suddenly she was covered with a soft material. Looking up, she met the eyes of Hiccup himself, sans his sheepskin coat. Astrid's mouth opened in surprise, tears and pain forgotten, but before she could thank the other teen, he rose to his feet and walked away from her without a second glance. Astrid watched him go, silently pleading for him to come back, to comfort her, even if she had no idea why. She had no time to ponder it, however, as strong arms lifted her up and began to carry her away. Her father had come to save her it seemed, removing his disgraced daughter from the scene. As she was carried away, she heard Stoick shout "Astrid Hofferson has served her punishment, and has taken steps to regain her honour. I will hear nothing of any further, unsanctioned punishments, understand?"

Astrid didn't have to look back to know what the twins reaction to that would be, she could hear the protestations even as her father's long legs quickly removed her from the area. Instead, the girl burrowed her face into her father's chest and cried her heart out. In no time they arrived at her father's destination, and Astrid turned slightly from her position to see the doors to her home.

The Chief's house, that is, not her real home.

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Without a word, Henrik Hofferson opened the door and carried his battered daughter over the threshold to the house. Kicking the door closed behind him, he unceremoniously deposited the girl on the ground, where she hurriedly got to her feet and stared up at him.

"Pull yourself together, daughter. Stoick will be here shortly, and I'm sure he has no great wish to see his heir in such a state. What you did shamed not just the Chief, but the entirety of the Hofferson clan. And yet, you have served your punishment, even if you handled it without dignity." At this, he motioned to the vomit caked over her chest and the stain on her groin. "But there shall be no more talk of this whole sorry affair. From now, you start afresh. You will listen to everything Stoick teaches you, and you will learn your own limitations, won't you?"

Astrid nodded, and the man cupped her face for a moment as he often did when she was a child, before turning and leaving Astrid alone in the house to await Stoick's return. Quickly, and with pained movements, Astrid headed over to the hearth, lighting the fire to warm the house. Satisfied that a healthy fire would grow, she made her way over to the stove where a pot of stew was luckily waiting. Astrid took the pot over to the fire where it could heat up, ready for the Chief when he returned.

Astrid was busying herself sweeping the dusty floor when Stoick entered the house, and the man stood in the doorway in shock at the sight. This girl, who not ten minutes before had been receiving twenty harsh lashes, was busying herself like a housewife, not even taking the time to tend to her wounds or wash the sick and urine from her body. At least the old Astrid diligence was back, if not the pride.

Entering his home further, the Chief closed the door and headed over to the girl, who was trying and failing to seem blissfully unaware of his arrival. Arriving before her, Stoick took the broom from the girl's hands, leading her to visibly sag, and placed it back into the cupboard. Turning, he observed the silent girl standing in the centre of the room with no small amount of pity. She made quite the sight.

"Astrid, go and get yourself a wash, and then head to bed. In this house, there will be no more talk of what has transpired, it is all in the past. Tomorrow, we will restart your lessons." Astrid attempted to protest, half-heartedly pointing to the pot of stew. "No, I wouldn't advise you eat anything until tomorrow, you'll more than likely throw it back up. Now, off with you. You have a busy day tomorrow." With that, the Chief of Berk shooed the still-bleeding girl up the stairs and out of the room.

Once satisfied that she wouldn't be returning, the large man went to rescue the pot of stew from the stove. Her heart was in the right place, but all she needed to do was set the flame to a simmer, not a roaring fire. The poor food was nearly unsalvagable. With a shake of his head, Stoick doused the flames and placed the pot back into the kitchen. After taking a moment to listen out for Astrid, and hearing the sounds of washing, the man left the house for the Mead Hall where he could get a good, unburnt meal.

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Astrid stayed in the bath for as long as she could, savouring the warmth of the water as it soothed her wounds. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and Astrid climbed out of the tub and dried herself as much as she could, the towel hurt her wounds after all.

Heading down the hall to her room, Astrid barely made it three steps in before she collapsed onto the floor, not having the energy to rise and get into bed. It had hit her that this was Hiccup's room, to such an extent that she could smell him as soon as she walked in. Closing her eyes, she breathed in long and slow, taking in the Hiccup-ness on the air. She'd never really noticed his scent before, but now it was the nicest scent she'd ever smelled.

Astrid's face was flat on its side on the floor, and when she opened her eyes she happened to look down at the floorboards. What was that?

Through the gaps in between the wood, she could see something hidden underneath one of the floorboards. Who...? Hiccup! This was his room, he must have hidden something under here, a secret only for his eyes to see. Suddenly, Astrid was gripped by an unshakable desire to uncover this treasure, this piece of the man she was fast becoming obsessed with. Rising to her knees, Astrid took to prying the loose floorboard up, struggling with the pain the movement caused her. Eventually however she succeeded and, reaching in with some difficulty, had retrieved her prize.

A book.

Why on Midgard would Hiccup hide away a book? What could be-oh, it was his diary! Hiccup had a diary! For a fleeting moment Astrid felt amusement that the boy actually kept a diary, but her amusement quickly faded when she opened the diary to its first page.

It was a drawing of her.

It was...amazing. From what she could tell, having only ever seen her reflection in water or a particularly well-cleaned shield, this was definitely her, but was she really that beautiful? Astrid knew that yes, she was a pretty girl, and would have no trouble attracting a husband if she so wished, but Hiccup had drawn a goddess! And what was that written underneath? "The most beautiful girl on Midgard."

Hiccup...thinks I'm beautiful? Astrid couldn't help but feel the butterflies building in her stomach and the blush creeping onto her face. Suddenly, Astrid remembered a thousand interactions with the boy throughout the years, where his stuttering, his strange comments, the blush always present on his face all made sense. It was so sweet!

Flipping through the pages, Astrid skimmed the words written down. Documented were hundreds of events in Hiccup's life, little tidbits of information and Hiccup's thoughts. Astrid couldn't wait to read it all, but she knew she needed sleep. Turning all of the pages, Astrid knew that Hiccup must have had this diary for nearly all of his life, though it was no where near finished. In fact, the last entry was-

Oh.

The day that Stoick had tried to arrange a marriage between herself and Hiccup.

The day that she'd told him that she would never marry him.

The day...the day that she had broken his heart.

Was it any wonder, really, that he'd had no problems whipping her today? She'd treated him like scum, like Dragon droppings on the bottom of her boot, when he'd thought she was the most beautiful girl on all of Midgard! What must it have done to him, to hear the horrid things she'd said to him that day in the forest when all he'd wanted was her company? And what did she do? She brushed him aside, thinking him completely pathetic and yet know, he was a hero. A hero! Despite her anger at herself, Astrid felt such pride for him and a strong sense of affection that was completely new but felt so right.

Turning back to the front of the diary, her eyes once again settled on the drawing of herself, marveling at how detailed and well-done it was. Hiccup was so talented, at this and at forging, she'd seen the hammer he'd made for Stoick, and know he was regarded as a great warrior. And this boy, this man, thinks that she is this beautiful?

No.

He thought she was beautiful. Now, now she wouldn't be surprised if he wanted her to rot in Hel.

Numbly, the girl climbed onto Hiccup's bed, holding the diary close to her chest.

Hiccup hated her, and she...she loved him. That was why he'd appeared in her dream, why she had been so mesmerised by his eyes. She loved him, and she could never have him, because what man would ever want a disgrace like her?

Astrid Hofferson had cried many tears that day, tears of sorrow, tears of grief, and tears of pain.

And now, Astrid Hofferson fell asleep crying over a completely foreign and entirely unwanted cause.

Tears of heartbreak.

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A/N: It's a damn good job I revealed in Chapter 6 that Astrid is my favourite character (and not just HTTYD, she's my favourite character in anything) otherwise you guys would think I hate her!

Things will get better for Astrid, hopefully.

Toothless will arrive soon, probably.

Once again, I apologise for my tardiness in uploading, I promise there will be at least one new chapter coming out every week, and you'll get an extra this week too.

Also, tell me in the reviews who YOUR favourite HTTYD character is and why, how you think I'm doing writing them and what you wish to see from your favourite character going forward with A Hiccup.

Thank you all, please review, favourite and follow, and have a good one.