A/N: A (late) Merry Christmas everyone! I gladly present you with another chapter, which fits the holiday season rather well. It's slightly shorter, so I'll take the time to answer some questions and to react in general:

Thank you all so much for your loving feedback on last chapter! It was a very scary one for me to put out and I'm glad to see how positive the response has been! :)

Answers to some general questions:

What about Toothless? Don't worry, I have not forgotten about him! He will make his first appearance soon. Let me also say that as of now, I currently do not have any Light Fury appearances planned, for the simple reason that I first need to see what she's like in HTTYD3 before I can even start to consider how she'd fit in this story. Would not like to base her character off of a few trailer clips!

Will there be smut/lemons? Yes! When the time is right.

Razor95 Will there be a Raoul character turning up? Not in that sense no; when drafting this story I did not think anyone within the HTTYD universe suitable for the role the way it is in the musical, nor could I find a guy I felt I could write a love triangle involving Astrid with. That does not mean it will be easy journey to happily ever after however! But I can't say too much about possible obstacles without spoiling plot points.

Please enjoy!

Angel Of Music – Part 3

This winter felt like it was going to be the longest one Astrid had lived through yet. Or second longest, after the one of five years ago.

It had not been a dream. She really, actually, had been within arm's reach of the Phantom. She had embraced him. She had hugged him. She had kissed him. She had been laying comfortably against him until she'd fallen asleep. And then, he'd left her.

As much as she tried to, she couldn't keep her mind off the events of that night. She still did not know why she had done it. She had never had feelings for him, and still didn't, but she had to admit that there had just been something about him… And that something had completely overwhelmed her.

She wasn't sure whether she'd want to do those things again though. If she'd kiss him again, were she mentally more prepared. What would be the point? She couldn't start to like him while she didn't know a thing about him. Her village's worst enemy wasn't exactly relationship material, after all.

But, she did want to see him again. Even if that still meant not actually seeing him. As much as she hoped he would finally show himself, she knew the chances of him doing so were slim. If he would even appear at all. After all, he'd told her he'd be gone all winter.

Still, she did not want to give up that easily. At night, she'd sneak out of her house to go to the arena. There, she'd softly call for him, hoping he'd answer her just like he'd had before. But after two weeks of not a single knock on her roof and 14 nights of trying to call him herself, the arena had always remained completely silent. He'd told her the truth; he was actually gone.

With that realisation, a sense of loneliness came over her. As much as she tried to keep herself busy by wandering around Berk or its woods, she couldn't stop her heart from slightly aching. After only two weeks apart, she missed him. She missed his stories, his laugh, his presence, his warmth, his lips that had kissed hers so tenderly. Although mostly annoying, his mysteriousness did have some sort of sensuality about it, and she often wondered where else he could place those soft and tender lips, only to shut down that thought process as quickly as possible. She could not allow herself to use him as fantasy material. Still, she could not help but try to imagine what his face would look like if it kissed her in broad daylight.

As the weeks went on however, a sense of doubt came to accompany that of loneliness. Did he miss her too? And if he did, then why had he decided to leave for the whole winter? He'd told her nothing more than that he had "other things to do", which was as cryptic as things could possibly be. What if that wasn't true, and he had some other motive? What if anything he'd said that night hadn't been true? I hate everything about Berk, except for you…

Evaluating her heartache, or perhaps trying to alleviate it, she was haunted by the possibility that he had once again been playing with her. He had always had her right where he wanted her. She knew that. What if, by creating the illusion that he actually cared for her, he was just trying to wrap her around his finger even further? And she was letting him succeed.

She couldn't let him do that to her. She had to be stronger than that. For her own sake, and for Berk's. If he was indeed gone for the whole winter, then maybe she could take that opportunity to finally get him out of her head. To forget about him. And by the time spring would come and the dragons would return, she could simply fight him once again. No emotional connection. Nothing complicated. She could watch out for the dragons without him too. A voice in the back of her head told her that it wasn't as simple as that, but she could at least try. She wasn't the kind of girl to get hung up on a guy.

And so, she set out to banish the Phantom from her mind. She stowed the list of possible identities she'd still been working on away in one of the chests in her room. She didn't need to look at it again. It didn't matter who he was.

Luckily, Snoggletog was coming around and preparations for the holiday were well on its way. It gave her an opportunity to keep herself busy as creating even more decorations was always well-appreciated. It'd give her a chance to reconnect with Berk as well. As much as the world was still calling her, if she truly wanted to forget about the Phantom, she needed to forget about the world and his stories as well. The world could wait. Berk would do for now. That's what she had to keep telling herself.

She spent the days leading up to the festivities mostly working on the giant tree in the middle of the village. Painting the planks with a beautiful shade of green, nailing them to the others and decorating them with whatever they could find – as shields were in low supply after the past year – took a lot of time but by the time she was done, she felt that she could say with confidence that this was the prettiest Snoggletog Tree Berk had seen in years. And judging by the compliments her fellow villagers gave her, they seemed to agree.

Taking on the Great Hall as her next project, it didn't take long before Berk was sparkly and shiny, and the evening of the big gathering in the Great Hall arrived before she knew it. She'd never been a big fan of dressing up, but she'd donned herself in a pine tree green shirt and dark red skirt for the occasion, so she'd at least fit the colour scheme. With a slightly forced cheery smile on her face, she was determined to make this Snoggletog one of the better ones she'd had in years.

Not that it was hard to have a good time in the Great Hall. With mead and ale flowing freely, people quickly got into the right mood for celebration. She never drank much herself, but greatly enjoyed watching those who did slowly become less and less coordinated as the evening progressed. She preferred to spend the night talking to and eating with her friends, and they were continuing that tradition this year.

She was again sitting next to Fishlegs, who usually joined her in the little-less-drunk-than-the-others department. The twins – whose dress-up nearly matched Gobber's, Ruffnut even having gone through the trouble of braiding little bells into her hair and Tuffnut pretty much being indistinguishable from a reindeer; completely covered in brown paint, antlers on his head – greatly enjoyed trying to outdrink each other however, with Snotlout just barely keeping up. She was sure the twins were at at least their tenth mug already and that it wouldn't be too long before Ruffnut's outfit would turn from Snoggletog-green to Barf-green. Although the twins did manage to surprise her year after year.

This year however, Astrid watched something truly miraculously unfold in front of her as Tuffnut went away to get another drink. It truly trampled anything she'd experienced over the past months. Snotlout slowly got up from his seat, slightly swaying, and asked Ruffnut for a dance. And Ruffnut accepted. As the two of them made their way towards the centre of the hall, which Fishlegs and her had an ideal view of, she simply looked at her companion with a completely blank face. She had no idea what just happened. The music was nice, but it couldn't possibly be that nice.

Fishlegs simply burst into a laughing fit, seemingly taking in her face with delight. Eventually, he shrugged. "Well, they have been spending a lot of time together."

"But – what – how – Snotlout!?" she managed.

"Don't ask me," Fishlegs giggled. "I haven't been Phantom-hunting in ages."

As Tuffnut made his way back to the table, sitting down with his back towards the dance floor, seemingly completely oblivious to how his sister and possibly his worst nightmare had both disappeared. Deviously, Astrid looked at Fishlegs, who smiled back at her, seemingly on board with whatever she was going to pull. No matter what you pulled, the twins usually deserved it, after all.

"So, Tuffnut," she started. "Have you still been looking for the Phantom?" As much as she did not want to talk about him, this time around it actually seemed worthwhile.

He took a while to respond, slowed down by at least two mugs of mead too many. "Yeah," he finally managed. "Me, Ruff, Snot. Good stuff."

She grinned and looked at Fishlegs as he asked: "So do you guys split up to cover more ground, or?"

Tuffnut simply nodded, his eyes lazily staring into his mug. "Yeah. Ruff takes care of Snot and I take the other route."

Astrid had to visibly contain her laughter as she realised how oblivious Tuffnut had been. She had logically had no idea what was going on, but Tuffnut had seemingly completely missed every sign. "Well, I'm not surprised they didn't find anything," she giggled.

Tuffnut looked slightly confused as Fishlegs added, chuckling as badly as she was: "Although, Astrid, you do have to admit that they must have been very busy nevertheless."

Unable to hold back any longer, the two of them burst out laughing, a confused Tuffnut visibly growing more agitated. "What are you talking about?" he asked, seeming to be slightly recovering from his alcohol-drowsiness.

As if right on cue, Fishlegs and Astrid watched Snotlout awkwardly wrap his arms around Ruffnut, pulling her closer and kissing her, visibly attempting to let his tongue make its way into her mouth. Trying not to instantly show her disgust, Astrid simply pointed at the two of them. Tuffnut, seemingly registering her gesture, turned around, looking for the source of her amusement. She was glad he'd left his mug on his table, because judging by his reaction, he most certainly would've dropped it otherwise.

Fishlegs and her giggled intensely as they watched Tuffnut get up from his spot, yell: "NOT HIM!" and make his way to the centre of the Hall, walking as much in a straight line as he possibly could. He tore Snotlout away from his twin and after an exchange of words Astrid imagined was hardly understandable, the two of them waddled outside, followed by a Ruffnut who seemed to be enjoying the coming confrontation between her brother and her lover more than she should.

"I think I have a fight to break up," Fishlegs excused himself, still chuckling loudly.

"You just want to watch," she pointed out, still laughing harder than she had with anyone but the Phantom in the past months. Fishlegs shrugged, admitting guilt, and she added: "I'll be with you in a moment."

Watching Fishlegs waddle off, she decided that the fight probably wouldn't get exciting for a few more minutes. Given how drunk both Tuffnut and Snotlout were, she highly doubted one would even be able to hit the other in the first place. Besides, it was a waste to let Tuffnut's ale get warm, so she picked it up from the table to enjoy it for herself. Berk's ale was the best, after all – not that she'd ever tasted any others.

Lost in thought and feeling too warm and comfortable to go outside in the cold for just one more moment, she suddenly felt the bench she was sitting on cave in. She looked beside her, finding no one other than Stoick the Vast.

"Chief," she blurted out, putting Tuffnut's mug down. "To what do I owe the honour?"

"Well, given that your friends are having a likely embarrassing fist fight outside, I figured I'd come and talk to you," the chief answered. She could spot a slight smile on his face.

"You saw that?" she chuckled.

"I see everything, Astrid," he reassured her. "But you know who I've seen surprisingly little of lately? You."

She stared into her mug, not wanting to meet Stoick's gaze, which would undoubtedly be piercing, but with a hint of concern. He usually looked at her like that. "Well, I've been around," she muttered. "I decorated everything after all."

The chief of Berk laughed. "Yes, I would actually say you've gone way over board. But I know you; and you're not really you. You always seem lost in thought."

It had been a long time since she'd had a heart-on-heart with Stoick. She figured some liquid courage might've helped him pull the trigger on the current one. "I've just had a lot on my mind, that's all," she murmured, not really knowing where this conversation was going.

"Astrid, look at me," the chief ordered her. Reluctantly, she looked up from her mug and found Stoick's green eyes looking at her. Indeed, with concern. "It's now been nearly five years," the chief continued. "And what did I tell you then?"

"That I should never be afraid to come and talk to you," she repeated.

"Exactly," Stoick nodded. "You know I care for you, Astrid. I've looked after you ever since –" He paused for a moment, a hint of pain flashing over his face. "Well, since you know when. So to have seen you like this for months, clearly not even remotely close to being yourself… It worries me."

She sighed internally. Although Stoick's concern for her was as heart-warming as it had always been, she couldn't ever tell him the whole truth. "It's just, with the Phantom and all," she admitted. "I still haven't caught him, I've failed, I…" She shook her head. "I just don't know what to do anymore." That was true, at least.

"But it's not just your burden to carry, Astrid," the chief reassured her. "Berk will always have your back. I will make sure of that."

"I know," she concurred, rubbing her hands together to hide her discomfort. "It's just, I…"

"You prefer to figure things out on your own first, if possible," Stoick completed. She nodded. The chief laughed wryly. "I am all too familiar with that pitfall myself. You spend so much time trying to take care of others, that you forget to take care of yourself."

"Exactly," she agreed, glad that someone had finally managed to put her struggles into words. Well, what she had struggled with initially, until she had started to get to know the Phantom… But she shouldn't be thinking of that.

"I'm sorry, Astrid," Stoick said after a moment of silence.

She laughed. "What could you be sorry for? If anything, I failed you by not catching the Phantom."

Stoick shook his head. "No, I should've taken better care of you. Spending months in an empty arena cell would be quite trying for anyone."

She smiled. "I can take care of myself by now, though. I turned twenty this year, remember? You don't have to worry."

Stoick smiled back at her. "Nevertheless, Astrid, I'm your chief. It's my job to worry."

She knew that. In a way, over the past years, Stoick had grown to be more of father figure to her than even her own father. They had a mutual understanding about most things, which made talking to him very easy. Feeling as comfortable as she did right now, she could hardly remember why she had avoided him so much over the past months. Why hadn't she simply just told him what had been going on at the time? That would've made her life so much easier. Ever since he'd helped her overcome what had transpired five winters ago – and she'd supposedly helped him as well – she hadn't been scared of or intimidated by him. Than why had she been so secretive now?

Stoick took another chug of the mug he'd brought. "Do you remember what we used to do before the Phantom started making our lives even more difficult?" he asked.

A slight smile appeared on her face. "Yeah," she nodded. "I'd come over once a week to have tea with you."

"How about we do that again?" Stoick proposed.

Her smiled widened. "I'd like that."

The chief of Berk simply smiled back at her. After a moment of agreeable silence, he slightly awkwardly got up from the bench. Closing off conversations had never been his strong point, she knew. "Alright then, I'll leave you to it. Good talk."

She laughed and nodded in agreement, watching Stoick make his way over to Gobber, who'd clearly had too much mead and was seemingly forgetting he only had two good limbs, which made him a danger to himself and the rest of Berk. The singing that accompanied said drunkenness had been echoing through the Great Hall for quite a while as well.

She smiled to herself while she finished Tuffnut's ale. It had been a good talk indeed. Berk really wasn't that bad after all. She just had to stop estranging herself from the people that cared for her. There were enough of those, after all. She didn't need the Phantom. She could leave him in the past. She just had to try harder.

Feeling content with the events of the night and wanting to hold on to how good she finally felt again, she decided it might not be such a bad idea to head home early for once. She got up and headed outside, partially hoping there would still be some traces of Tuffnut's and Snotlout's confrontation for her to catch. As she made her way through the door however, she bumped into Fishlegs.

"And, how was it?" she grinned at Fishlegs' obviously excited expression.

"I think we'll need a rematch when they're both sober, but," he told her with glee. "Tuffnut did manage to land one yak of a sucker punch right onto Snot's nose! He's probably still bleeding."

She giggled. "Well, that sounds like a rematch to look forward to. Make sure to let me know."

"So, what kept you busy?" he asked curiously.

She shrugged. "Chief came to talk to me. You know how that goes." Fishlegs nodded. "But I think I'm going to head off now. Don't want to go full Tuffnut," she added. Then, with obvious disgust: "Or Ruffnut, in case Snotlout reappears."

"Sounds like a wise choice," Fishlegs agreed. "Good night!"

She returned those words and headed out into the cold. While making her way through Berk, dimly lit by Snoggletog candles and lanterns, she could swear she saw a few droplets of blood in the snow. Giggling to herself, she quickly made her way home and up to her bedroom. Her parents were still drinking with their own friends so her house was filled with nothing but peace and quiet.

Tiredness coming over her, she simply kicked off her boots and threw herself onto her bed, not even bothering to close the shutters in front of her window to keep out the cold. Her blanket, clothes and despite her best efforts considerable alcohol buzz would keep her warm enough.

She felt content. Reconnecting with Berk tonight had felt good and she truly believed things would be better again from here. Ruffnut and Snotlout's apparently blooming relationship would make for a fun series of events – and she was relieved that that most likely meant Snotlout was no longer after her, even though she'd punched him hard enough for him not to try at all during the past year – and reconnecting with Stoick might allow her to clear her head. She could also spend some time listening to Fishlegs geek out, and… Tock.

The sudden sound completely halted her train of thought as she tried to figure out what exactly she had just heard.

Tock.

Could it be? But why now, of all times… When she was just starting to feel somewhat okay again.

Tock.

It definitely was. He hadn't left her after all!

She practically shot out of bed and towards the window, just narrowly dodging something that flew at her through it, landing on the floor with a soft sound. Ignoring whatever that was, she anxiously looked out of the window, hoping to catch a sign of the Phantom. But he was nowhere to be found.

Not paying attention to how quickly she had neglected her resolution to forget about him, she lit a candle and decided to investigate whatever projectile had come at her. On the floor of her room, she found something small and black. Carefully lifting it with her one hand while placing her candle on her desk with the other, she quickly deducted that it was a leather bag. It fit perfectly in her palm. And there was something inside of it.

She placed the bag down in front of her and studied it intensely. The leather felt similar to how the Phantom's gloves had felt on her skin, although those had been slightly rougher, likely because of how often they'd been used. A delicate red string made out of a fabric she didn't recognize prevented the bag from falling open. She carefully loosened it, not knowing what she would find inside.

Reaching in after the string was undone, she first found a small sheet of paper. Lifting it close to her candle, she could make out a simple phrase:

This is what I look like.

It had to be the Phantom's handwriting. The lines were soft, seemingly written with ease but they had a certain grace to them nonetheless. The actual words themselves made her heartbeat speed up however. What could possibly be inside that would show her what he looked like?

Eagerly reaching into the bag again, she found something small and wooden. It was only slightly smaller than her own hand and she curiously lifted it up so she could study it.

The sight alone made her freeze. Her eyes instantly locked with the green ones of the statuette she was holding. They pierced her soul, burrowing their way into her until they found the memories she had buried deep inside.

Her hands started shaking and she dropped her "gift" unintentionally, leaving it lying there on her desk, lit by nothing but a single candle. At any other time, she would've admired the craftsmanship. Its wings were carved out beautifully, the details of its tail beyond compare. But the black and green paint, which had been applied with an incredibly steady hand, made it so that she couldn't look past how it looked exactly the same. The same as the Night Fury that'd haunted her for so long.

Her mind froze, slowed down and sped up at the same time as she tried to figure out what it meant, why he had given her this. But as the memories of all those years ago, of how she had deeply and thoroughly failed, came flowing back to her in gigantic waves, she eventually found herself shaking uncontrollably, her mind and her thoughts spinning out of control, becoming incoherent.

After she did not know how long, she moved away from her desk and got the sheet of paper she'd put away over a week ago. With her hand still shaking to the extent that her handwriting was probably unreadable to anyone but herself, she started to add another name to her list. It'd been an option she'd not let herself consider before, as leaving the past right there, in the past, had always been easier. But she couldn't ignore it any longer. He was technically still missing, after all.

After that, she couldn't do anything other than simply stare at the list until a single tear finally made its way down her face, onto it, wetting the name she'd just written down. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III.

A/N: To be continued…