This ending is ridiculous, but time ran out :( I was going to have Jack come out of nowhere and save Jamie, but… Jamie apparently wanted to die, and Astrid apparently wanted some spotlight, so yeah. And yes, I do know that Valkyries technically have nothing to do with judgment upon a soul; Hiccup meant it in the sense where they would decide if Jamie's soul went to Valhalla or stayed in Midguard. Or something like that.

Rated T to be safe

Warning: ONE CURSE WORD, murder, theft, illegal activities, organized crime, attempted murder, mentions of drugs and alchohol, unrequieted love, lover sold you out, a gun (I don't know guns so bear with me, guys), one sentance of slight gore, a mobster boss trying really hard to confuse and frighten a not-really-criminal and only just confusing them because what the flowers?

I DO NOT PROMOTE THESE ACTIVITIES. I AM USING THEM IN A CREATIVE SETTING FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY

Disclaimer: I, in no way, shapre, or form, intend to make a profit out of this piece of writing. This is for educational purposes only. I do not own How To Train Your Dragon, Rise of the Guardians, Grand Theft Auto III, a .50 Desert Eagle, a gun in general, drugs, alchohol, a car, a dress, a suit, jewlery, a gang.

Day 10: Hooligan

"Boss?"

Hiccup turned around to look at her, a solemn expression on his face. "Astrid, you know better than to call me that."

Astrid shrugged. "Protocol is in effect right now." Her eyes pointedly looked to the man Snotlout was dragging out of the trunk.

Hiccup made a sound of understanding and sighed, beginning to take off his suit jacket. He handed it to Astrid, who took it and gave it to Ruffnut. Astrid watched as he rolled his dress shirt's sleeves up to his elbows, examining him. She could tell how much this was weighing on his mind already.

She remembered when he was just a kid, innocent and carefree, seeing the world as a magnificent place, valuing every life as equal to the other. She remembered tackling him from behind, she remembered playing Grand Theft Auto III with him, she remembered him laughing with every carefree punch she aimed at his shoulders.

Astrid had always loved Hiccup. But it wasn't her place to do so. So she'd watched him, protected him as a bodyguard should, earned her way all the way to the top of the ladder to stay side by side with him. And they'd been happy; him, gallivanting around without a care in the world, and she, always chasing him and cleaning up after his messes.

Astrid pulled out a handgun from her back pocket. Hiccup was quietly asking for it, his left hand held out to her, eyes blankly watching as Snotlout deposited the thief in front of him. Fishlegs stepped forward to yank the tape off the man's mouth. Astrid checked the gun–a Desert Eagle, .50, polished and glorious like it was made for the head mobster this side of town. She handed it over to Hiccup, watching as he routinely took it apart and put it back together again, double-checking the barrel even though she herself had already done so.

Why did things have to change? Hiccup had been so happy until–

Her eyes saddened, staring at her Chief.

The one day–the one fucking day she decides to go and do something girly for once, something happens. Of course it does. They're in the mob with almost the whole eastern police force of the country after them. She remembered that she'd been shopping for some lingerie when she received the call. It was simple, as it should've been. 'Attack on Heir. Report immediately.'

She'd returned as fast as she could, and was relieved to find Hiccup safe and sound, even if he was missing a leg. It was horrible, seeing him lying in that hospital bed. He wouldn't wake up, but he was alive. Small, skinny, frail; bleeding and beaten and broken and missing a limb, but alive. That's what mattered, right?

Hiccup finished checking the gun and waved away the other men, walking forward to stand in front of the thief. The man was positively blubbering, tied up and on his knees, sobbing how sorry he was for having insulted the Hooligan Tribe, that he'd pay them back tenfold, that he hadn't known that he was sorry, that it was for his little sister, they needed the cash–

Astrid rolled her eyes. Same sob story every damn time. What truly sucked was how young he was–the poor kid looked to be only 16 or so. Must've been some real good drugs to get him hooked so hard that he'd steal from them for it.

Hiccup bent down to his level, taking care not to dirty his dress pants. They'd have to go back to the party after this, and he had to look representable. He stretched his hand out and gently cupped the kid's cheek, asking him what his name was.

"J-Jamie Bennett", he choked. "Jamie Bennett. Please, please don't do this, I swear, it was a mistake, it was for my sister–"

"Which one was it, Jamie Bennett?" Hiccup murmured. "A mistake? Or purposely done for your sister?"

The boy choked and stopped talking, not knowing what to say. Astrid could relate; Hiccup had the ability to throw you for a loop with only a few words.

She remembered when he first woke up out of his coma, and the first thing out of his mouth was 'Jack.' Everyone had been confused, but just wrote it out off as coma talk.

But as he recovered, he kept asking them about Jack. Every visit it was the same thing–'where was Jack?' How the hell should they know? All they knew was that Hiccup had been his usual irresponsible self and had snuck out to city again without protection, and then next thing they knew there was an explosion and he was in the hospital without a leg.

Once he could talk for more than five seconds, he'd explained, and that's when everything fell into place. He confessed to having snuck out plenty of times before–everyone knew that–to see a friend he'd made called Jack–now this, no one had known about. They'd met at an ice rink and instantly hit it off. It was clear by the way Hiccup spoke of him that they'd been more than 'just friends'. It made Astrid want to snap someone's neck just thinking about it.

She clenched her fists around the fabric of her dress, the smooth material bunching up around her fingers. She decided to cross her arms instead–this dress was way too expensive to mess up–and cleared her throat. Hiccup looked back to her, and she tapped a finger to the inside of her wrist. They were kind of on a tight schedule, here. He nodded and stood back up, getting prepared to deliver justice.

The Bennett guy gasped and started babbling a mile a minute. Hiccup sighed but tried to get on with it.

"I am Horrendous, chief of the Hooligan Tribe–"

"No! No please, you don't have to do this, please don't, no–"

"–and my subordinates have caught you committing a crime on my territory. You broke into the house of a dear friend of the Viking family–"

"It was an accident, I swear! I didn't know, please, please don't do this, it was for my sister–"

"–and stole their precious family jewels for a few hundred bucks that wasn't even worth their value. Because of the insult and disrespect you have–"

"NO!"

He was screaming now. That wasn't good.

For some reason Astrid couldn't quite figure out, it reminded her of how Hiccup had been in the hospital again. They'd done their research, found out that this Jack guy was connected to the Guardians, a military force so anti-mob that it was like fire against ice. By then, they'd already tracked and dealt with the man who'd set fire to the arcade they'd been hanging out in; some wack-job called Bernard Derrickson who liked to call himself the Red Death. They believed he'd been working under the Nightmare King's commands, but it was unproven, and the Hooligans weren't willing to go to war with a gang of that much power at the time. For Hiccup's sake, Stoick had ordered an advanced search in the building.

They hadn't even found Jack's body.

When they told Hiccup, he'd screamed. Kind of like how this guy was doing now. Filled with desperation and sorrow and misfortune. It was a horrible sound to hear.

Hiccup's eyes flashed with irritation and he suddenly shot forward, delivering a swift kick to the kid's jaw. The guy flew backward and slammed his head against the concrete. He coughed, wheezing, rolling onto his back as Hiccup huffed, stepping backwards and adjusting his tie.

"As I was saying. Because of the insult and disrespect you have shown to my Tribe, I hereby have the right to sentence you to death."

Bennett rolled forward, begging between short breaths.

Hiccup clicked the safety off and pointed the barrel of the gun right at the man's head. His eyes softened, as they always did when he was about to take a life, and he whispered the final words.

"May the Valkyries pass rightful judgment upon your soul."

He pulled the trigger.

The gun fired.

A bang rang loud and clear.

Jamie Bennett fell backward, over his knees, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, blood pooling onto the concrete from the hole in his forehead.

Hiccup sighed unhappily and gave Astrid the gun. She passed it to Ruffnut, who exchanged it for the suit jacket. Astrid stepped forward and helped Hiccup into the jacket, adjusting his sleeves for him, buttoning it up. She stayed there a moment, fidgeting with his tie, and murmured the usual. "Well done, Hiccup."

He looked her in the eyes and with a solemn face spoke the usual response. "Taking a life is never something to be praised for, Astrid."

She nodded, then took her place on his right side. Fishlegs moved to their chosen vehicle and started the car. Snotlout, Tuffnut, and Ruffnut would dispose of the body. Astrid held the door open as Hiccup entered the back seat and settled himself in. She moved to the passenger side, climbed in, and gave Fishlegs a silent prompt to begin driving.

Her eyes flitted up to the rearview mirror, watching as her Chief stared out the tinted window. She examined his face, for a sign, for anything. It stayed as blank as it had been ever since Stoick's death, ever since Jack's death. It gave her a sense of failure just looking at it.

Astrid was not a woman that lost. She almost always won, and when she didn't, she kept fighting until she earned the winner's prize. She hated losing with all her heart, and could only recall one battle she'd ever lost.

The battle for Hiccup's love.

The war had begun and ended right underneath her nose, and she'd never noticed it.

Hiccup's love had never been hers to win.