XIII.

There's no good morning. She wakes to her tunic hitting her in the face, and she mutters a few choice words before rolling over and curling into a ball.

"Come on. Wake up." Hiccup tosses more clothes her way, effectively putting an end to the dreamy warmth she'd been content to stay in forever.

Groaning, she presses her palms into her eyes and squints at the window. Judging by the way the sun's streaming in, they haven't overslept. It's weird that he's awake before she is, but she's been more exhausted lately since he's started taking her with him to work. Astrid sits up and pushes her hair out of her face.

"It's not even sunset," she grumbles, glaring as she watches him pace around the room. He's already dressed, and he's shoving things in a wide-mouthed satchel. "Why the rude awakening?"

"Long day ahead," he sighs, not looking up from the task at hand. When she doesn't immediately move, he yanks the fur from her lap as he crosses the room. "Hurry up, get moving."

She scowls, folding her arms in front of her naked body. Not that she's unused to his odd moods and curt tone, but after last night… Well. She's not sure what she expected, after his gentle hands and penetrating stares, but it wasn't to be wrenched from bed before she'd even fully shaken herself awake. Her stomach churns with something like aggravation. Her mouth tastes sour. After an unpleasant start to her morning, she wants to stomp over to her own pallet and start over.

"Just go without me today. I want to sleep."

"Uh-uh." Hiccup shakes his head and spends a moment chasing down Toothless so he can attach the sack to his saddle. "We're not going into town. Get packing." After a pause, he adds. "Wear the fur. It'll be cold."

That catches her interest. She sits up, finally unfolding her legs and forcing life into her tired body. "Where are we going?"

"North." He kicks her bindings towards her. "There's somebody I want you to meet."

For some reason, that sentence hits her with a sense of dread. She instantly pictures the worst– another wife kept somewhere far from here. Hel, a whole family of little Hiccups running around riding dragons while he's been sleeping between her legs. "Who?"

The feeling of uneasiness only doubles when he replies, "You'll see when we get there."

Getting there takes a while. Two days, to be specific. She thought the flight to Bulg was long, but she realizes she didn't even know the meaning of the word. She holds onto Hiccup and watches the sky as her legs and back ache. Her butt goes numb before the sky even turns dark, and she has to beg him to land multiple times so she can walk off the tingling in her hips.

His entire demeanor bothers her. He's not exceptionally mean or particularly short with her, he just seems… distant. When she speaks, he seems distracted, and when she extends a hand towards him, he acts as if he doesn't see it. After hours of flight, when he finally finds them a cove to rest in for a little while, he sleeps with his back to her.

At first, she can't deny that his behavior makes her chest twinge with hurt. Surely she's being oversensitive. She probably just read too much into the night before. So what if he touched her like she was something precious and valuable? He probably acted that way with all sorts of women. He probably looked at Ingrid like that. He was able to fool their village into thinking he was dead for seven years, so it's not strange at all that he can turn into another man come sunrise.

Once she starts thinking along those lines, though, she just gets irritated. Then everything he does annoys her. The way he ruffles the wind out of his hair with his fingers. The way he twists to stretch out the aches of sitting on a dragon for hours at a time. And dear gods if he turns that Night Fury upside down one more time, she's going to puke down the back of his shirt.

It's a miserable day– or night– over all. Even Toothless seems annoyed with the extensive journey, because the moment they dismount, he grumbles and curls into a tight ball beneath a set of tall fronds.

"C'mon, Toothless," Hiccup sighs, gesturing towards the pile of debris he's gathering. "Can I get a hand?"

The Night Fury spits a measly fireball in their general direction, catching on the sticks but just barely missing Hiccup's boots.

"Thanks," he replies flatly. "Much appreciated."

Astrid tries to make an attempt or two at conversation, asking again who it is they're going to see and trying not to seem too panicked. He's terse, and she's tired, though. She realizes that he's in no mood for discussion, that he only wants to stare pensively at the cloudy stars. So she scoots closer to his side with a frown and uses her bag as a pillow. The minute she wiggles near, he rolls over.

She grits her teeth but shoves down the irritation. The sharper nudge, the feeling of being slapped, she completely ignores. Exhaustion hangs too heavily on her bones, and she isn't sure what the next day entails. So she saves the fight for another day and lets sleep claim her.

And she should be used to sleeping on the ground by now, but it's the open sky above her that feels strange. The constant breeze on her skin is unsettling and keeps rousing her. There's plenty of wildlife around, she's sure, but not enough to mimic the sound of a dozen dragon snores. She tosses and turns, a frustration building that nearly sends her to tears.

She pulls her knees to her chest, glaring at Hiccup's back. No matter how she tries to push it out of her thoughts, the night before won't leave her alone. It's insane, of course, but she wants those soft kisses on her forehead. The warmth of his fingers pushing back her bangs. She's not sure what she did wrong, or if this is just some new facet of his personality she'll have to learn to live with.

Like a traitor, her hand slides across the thin grass. She pinches the fabric of his shirt between her thumb and fingers. He doesn't shift and his breathing doesn't change, so she lets herself close her eyes again. She tells herself she'll make sense of this obnoxious dependency issue in the morning.

Hiccup's sharp sigh makes her jump. She snatches her hand back. The swell of defensive anger brings harsh words to her lips, but before she can spit them at him, he rolls over and throws his arm over her. It doesn't pull her close or curl around her waist, but the weight of it satisfies her strange desire for contact. His eyes are closed and his expression doesn't seem peaceful enough for sleep, but she doesn't comment. She takes the arm for what it is– a begrudging offering and a reluctant comfort.

Astrid rests a little better after that.

"What… is that?"

She can see her breath in the crisp arctic air, and it chills her fingers no matter how closely she presses them to Hiccup's sides. The enormous formation ahead is undoubtedly not any average iceberg– white shards stab outwards towards the pale blue sky, almost crystalline in structure, and the entire thing is as large as an island. It towers over the ocean, shadowing the surrounding banks of ice and snow.

"Eh, I guess you could call it my home away from home." Hiccup gives a shrug and reaches down to pat Toothless. Both of their moods have improved considerably, even if Astrid's has only worsened with sleep deprivation and the cold. "How's, uh– How's that fear of dragons doin' ya?"

She glares at the back of his helmet. "I'm not scared of dragons."

"Right. Good. Glad to hear it."

Crisp wind whips at her cheeks as he brings Toothless lower. They skim just above the ocean waves as the strange island of ice looms closer and closer. Every now and then, she thinks she catches the tail of a tidal class dragon slipping beneath the surface. The giant dome casts a shadow over them, and the air drops another couple of degrees as they approach. She's glad he reminded her to put on her fur hood– it keeps her a fraction warmer and keeps the chill off her ears.

"Up we go!"

Astrid gasps and holds tighter to Hiccup as they begin a sharp ascent. Then Toothless is turning almost sideways, and a crack between ice spikes appears just before it seems they're about to crash. Everything darkens. Blues and blacks blur around them, the sounds of Toothless' wings and excited purrs echoing off the walls. They fly into a brighter room, and the Night Fury lands gracefully. His claws scrape against the glassy floor.

Heart beating a little nervously, she lets Hiccup dismount first. Then she swings her leg over and wanders a circle around the chipper dragon.

"Hello?" he calls out, hands cupped around his mouth. She stares slack-jawed at the icicles jutting from every inch of the ceiling, some dripping into silvery pools on the floor. After realizing he's already walking into the next room, she scrambles to keep up. "Anybody home?"

Surely this person that she's supposed to meet is a dragon. It seems obvious now. No human would live so far from civilization, holed up in some cave in the middle of the ocean…

Oh.

"Hellooo?" he calls again, and she glances over her shoulder at the sound of scratching talons. It's not Toothless making that noise. "I'm back!"

"Who are we meeting?" she whispers uneasily. The tunnel they're following narrows, and then opens into a wide icy room, full of light. Her guess at their mystery person is immediately proven wrong– just like the mountain nest back home, this island is inhabited. A set of furs is tucked into a niche in the wall. A sunken fire pit is surrounded by a ring of split logs for seating. A steady flame crackles inside. There's even a makeshift stove, a stone table, baskets and baskets of materials. Someone human clearly lives here.

"You have no sense of appreciating anticipation, do you?" He scoffs, pulling her forward. "Come on. You'll want to see this."

Hiccup leads her down into the room, and she realizes that it leads into a garden-like area of sunshine and greenery. And then it explodes.

What she thought was a small cubby of flora widens and then drops off– a gust of wind suddenly blows her back as an enormous dragon flies by. They're standing on a cliffside, merely the edge of a vast and seemingly roof-less cavern. Grass and fronds cover every surface– a giant waterfall pours into a glittering lake below. Dragons of every shape, color, size fly and play around them. Nests of hatchlings are safely peeking over alcoves in the icy walls. Families of species huddle together and preen. Some hardly pay attention to the humans' presence. Others land and scurry near.

"Oh my gods," she breathes, wide-eyed and taking it all in. It's beautiful, breath-taking. A little terrifying and utterly amazing. Her heart pounds against her ribcage, and she curls her hand around Hiccup's elbow. "I've never seen so many in one place."

"She's got a pretty varied collection," he nods with a half-grin. His gaze is fond, even almost a little distant. Nearly nostalgic.

That catches her attention. Cutting her gaze to him, she asks, "'She'?"

Astrid doesn't have to wait for a reply, though. Something large and furry suddenly fwumps to the ground behind her. At first she yelps, jumping back, and even Hiccup seems to startle. But then she realizes that what she thought was a beast is a woman in a fur mantle. She straightens to a slight slouch and beams at Hiccup.

"Can you not?" he complains, putting his hands on his hips. "I have a guest."

The woman is definitely a couple decades their senior, with a narrow face and high cheekbones. Her light brown hair is smeared with silver at her temples, and she peers up with grayish green eyes that twinkle happily. Toothless bounds cheerfully around her, and she reaches out a hand to skim fingertips over his scales. "You could have written," she snarks back, and then she's pulling Hiccup into a warm embrace. "It's so good to see you. I'm glad you're here."

"I missed you too," he tells the woman, and there's not a single grudging note in his tone. Pulling away, he gestures to her. "Mom, this is my wife, Astrid. Astrid, Mom."

"Mom?" she blurts, and that exact moment, the woman echoes, "Wife?"

Astrid starts to say, but your mom's dead! But his dead mom beats her to the punch. "Hiccup, you got married? When? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm telling you now!" He waves a hand towards the girl standing dumbstruck beside him. "It wasn't a big romance or anything. It's a little bit of a long story."

The woman's gaze sweeps over to Astrid. She tries not to gape as a mother's scrutinizing examination looks her up and down. Crouched low as she is, she appears a little odd– maybe skittish. She doesn't quite face her head on, and the step she takes forward is a little bit of a shuffle. After a long moment, though, she gives a bob of her head– one that reminds her of Toothless– and allows her a closed-lipped smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Astrid. I'm Valka." There's a soft accent that gives her words a broguish lilt.

"This is…" She's not sure how to finish that sentence. Really weird? A little too unbelievable? She ends up following with, "…your home?"

Valka chuckles. "Well, it's my home, but it's not my home, per se. It's–"

"Mom," Hiccup interrupts with a furrowed brow and a shaking head. He draws a flat hand across his throat, a clear indicator for her to stop. "Let's ease her into it, okay? Astrid's still a little skittish where dragons are concerned."

That, at least, is true. Most of them are hanging back, watching curiously and chirruping with excitement. Toothless seems like a playful kitten one moment, and then a haughty house cat the next. He drools for Valka's attention, but he swats away other dragons with his tail, not to be bothered. The whole thing makes her a little nervous, but the shock of this stranger's identity is distracting her.

"Ah," Valka replies. Her expression dims with slight uncertainty, giving Astrid another glance, but then she wraps an arm around her son and tugs him forward. "Come. We'll talk about it inside, then. Have you eaten?"

Her stomach growls. Hiccup laughs oddly. "Not yet. Astrid can cook while we talk."

Her mouth pops open, and she watches his back accusingly as they walk ahead of her. Explanations are certainly in order, but she thinks it's fair to say that hers is slightly more urgent.

After Hiccup finishes the story of how Berk gave her up to the mercy of the mysterious Dragon Lord, Valka stares tight-lipped at her son. Her brow is deeply creased with displeasure, and she absently laces her fingers together in front of her. The chief's lost wife works her jaw and frowns.

"I can't believe it's come to that," she whispers, "I thought I'd seen the worst that cowardice had to offer."

"Things were bad," Astrid inserts, feeling the need to defend her village, despite what they've done. "Are bad. They saw it as losing one person to save dozens."

Hiccup rolls his eyes and sits back against Toothless, who's happily gnawing at an absurdly large bone. "And I'm sure they lined up to volunteer."

"Desperation doesn't justify their actions," Valka says sternly, ducking her head a little as she speaks. "It's bad enough what they do to dragons, but now they're even turning on their own kind. It's that exact kind of ignorant violence that'll be the end of our culture."

"Then they should tuck in their tails and wait to die?" Astrid shakes her head, glancing down at her lap and scavenging bits of food still clinging to her fish's skeleton. "They're running out of options."

"That's because they're stubborn," the other woman retorts more casually, sighing. "If Stoick and the rest of the council were more open to change, they wouldn't have to resort to such measures."

"Coming from somebody who left." Both Hiccup's and his mother's heads snap up at that. Astrid leisurely draws her gaze back up. "I understand that the dragons aren't what we thought, that a lot of our suffering is self-inflicted–" She pauses, shrugging and stabbing her fork at her plate. "But since I'm the only one in the room who never left Berk– well– I think I deserve the right to forgive them if I want to."

Hiccup sits up, a darkness flashing in his eyes. "And if I hadn't–"

Valka interrupts him, though, holding out a gentle hand. "That's fair." She nods, looking to the floor at Astrid's feet. "That's your decision to make. Nobody else's."

She expected a fight. But the older woman dissolved the conflict with surprising ease. A modicum of respect turns in Valka's favor.

"How long will you be staying?" she asks, giving her son a glance to pin him in place. He rolls his eyes and rests his elbows on his knees but settles.

Astrid's actually rather interested in that reply herself.

"Undetermined," he answers with a sigh, cutting his gaze away to the window-esque openings that lead to the dragons' nests. His mouth turns down at the edges. She hopes his quiet mood from yesterday isn't returning.

"Well, there's always a place for you here." His mother reaches over to run the backs of her fingers against Hiccup's hair. He doesn't look at her, but neither does he pull away. Valka turns a small smile her way. "And you, Astrid. I'm glad there's somebody to keep him company."

Keeping him company… She supposes that's an adequate summary of their relationship. She starts to return a sincere sentiment, but Hiccup suddenly dignifies them with his attention again.

"I'd rather be alone." He points a lazy finger in her direction, ignoring the shifting of the dragon beneath him. "She's demanding and spoiled and always complaining."

Astrid tilts her head, narrowing her gaze. "Maybe that's because I was kidnapped by an alcoholic in tight pants," she snips back.

"Alcoholic." Valka's brows rise.

"She's exaggerating."

"No, when I told Gus you were sober enough for work, that was an exaggeration." She could go for a lower blow, a quip about his bedroom skills or manly pride, but she's not quite brave enough to make such a comment in front of his mother. As it stands, she's biting back a few more vicious digs.

Valka keeps her gaze on Hiccup, mouth pressed into a displeased line. She looks as if she wants to say something, but she, too, is holding back. After an awkward silence, she flicks her eyes over to Astrid. "Tell me more about Berk. Are they still searching for the nest near Helheim's Gate?"

"Helheim," she hears herself echo. She sits forward, thoughts redirected. "That's where it is?"

"I could've told you that, if you'd asked."

"I didn't realize there were so many different nests," she hisses back. Her hands tighten to fists in her lap as she fixes him in a demanding stare. "If you knew, why keep it to yourself? Why not let Stoick lead the villagers to the queen?"

Mother and son exchange uncomfortable glances, sparking a tension that she realizes has nothing to do with her. Wetting her lips, Valka laces her fingers together. They're Hiccup's hands, she notices, slender and dexterous. "Besides the fact that only a dragon can find the island…" she answers slowly. "Berk cannot kill the queen. The weapons they have won't penetrate her hide, and she's too enormous for them to overtake. Sending Berkians will only result in more deaths."

"What if you led them?" Astrid scoots to the edge of her seat, setting her plate down in front of her. "Not just Berk, but all the tribes. I've seen some of your dragons– can't they help fight?"

That's when Valka shuts down. Her sympathetic expression hardens, and she stands to collect their dishes. "It's not our fight anymore," she says evenly. "We protect our own."

Astrid blinks in shock. "Your husband– your village– they're not your own? Not even the father of your son, the–"

"The man who sacrificed you to an enemy?" she interrupts, a little distressed.

They're back to this again. Astrid ignores it. "Stoick never remarried, you know. Even when the elders tried to convince him. He's always mourned you and–"

"Astrid–" her own husband interrupts, sharply cutting her off.

She looks to him with disbelief, but he lowers his gaze and gives her a curt shake of his head. Her jaw drops, and she scoffs a quiet laugh. So this is where he learned it– his apathy for Berk and its villagers. Disgusted, she stands as well, stepping around Valka and crossing the room so she can lean against the massive windows. Now she's not only overruled, she's outnumbered.

Swirling color whizzes by, a myriad of dragons flying past and playing carefree. Meanwhile, a people is dying. But this is their kind now. They've forfeited their lives as humans.

Hiccup sighs heavily, and then she hears his footsteps behind her. He places a hand on her lower back and tries to get her to meet his gaze, but she's irritated.

"It's not so clear for us," he whispers so Valka won't hear. "Mom and I… Berk hasn't been home for a long time. That doesn't mean she doesn't care. She wouldn't have asked if she didn't."

"You don't abandon those you care about," she retorts hotly. She just barely turns into his touch, almost a reflexive reaction.

"It's not that simple," he insists.

"It is!" She puts her back to the stone, partly to dislodge his hand and partly to focus him in a glare. "When you can help and you don't–"

"What do you think I'm doing, Astrid?" His volume rises a little, and he catches himself. Hiccup glances over to Valka for just a second before lowering his voice again. "What do you think I've been doing?"

She purses her mouth. This entire conversation is making her sick. But he's right, she can't deny that he's been protecting not just Berk, but half of the Barbaric Archipelago. Part of her wants to reach for him– she probably would if they were alone– but she resists.

"Berk is home for you," he presses gently. "No one ever doubted you or told you that you didn't belong. Everybody wanted you there. But it wasn't like that for us."

For a brief moment, she can hear the jeering of teenagers echoing from the past. Choruses of exasperated sighs and frustrated complaints about the chief's useless son. She wishes she didn't remember that. It makes it too easy to understand them, to see where the lines of loyalty blurred.

"Even so, they're my family. Your family."

"She can be your family," he says, taking a step forward and gesturing to the other woman. Then he seems to realize how close he's standing and clears his throat, backing up again. He rubs the back of his neck a little nervously. "I mean, if you want. I'm not asking you to forget about Berk or even stay away– I just need you to understand why they're not our priority anymore."

Astrid clenches her jaw. She'd been there– home– just a couple nights ago. To think she has information that could've helped, the truth about the dragons' nest that's plagued them for generations. She feels helpless and wrong, standing by. She wishes she'd woken her parents when she had the chance. A sudden and fierce longing for them makes her throat tight. Homesickness doesn't ease with time.

"What about you?" she asks, cutting her gaze to Valka. The woman has her back to them as she washes plates clean, and a hatchling of some unidentifiable species weaves through her legs in hopes of scraps.

Hiccup's brow creases with confusion. "What about me?"

Astrid finds it a little difficult to meet his gaze. She leans her head back and shrugs. "If she's my family, what does that say about you?"

There's a dark flash behind his green eyes, and she watches his walls go up. He's guarded in an instant. "The only family I'm good for is Toothless," he tells her shortly. "Don't take it personally."

Chewing the inside of her cheek, she looks away and nods slowly. He seems ready to say something else, but he doesn't. Instead, he scratches his jaw and walks back inside. She's left wondering about the fierce stab of disappointment in her breast.

"He's a gentle giant, Astrid, really." Hiccup laughs as he tugs on her wrist, even as she digs in her heels and tries not to trip over the dragons flocking around them with interest. "Don't be such a scaredy cat!"

She tightens her grip on his forearm and stares wide-eyed at the enormous beast casting a looming shadow over the picturesque sanctuary. The giant dragon is so massive that she'd thought it was a mountain or vast snowbank within the ice-encased island. That was, until it opened its pale blue eyes, shuddered its jawfins to displace a gaggle of young Nadders perched on its head. She hasn't seen any teeth yet, but she suspects that one fang would be twice her height. If the queen of the nest back home is anything like this monster, Valka's right– they have no chance.

"Hiccup Haddock, you will let me go or lose your hand! I mean it!" He just chuckles and pulls her forward, so she pries one of his fingers free and wrenches it back.

He yelps, dropping to his knees and releasing her arm. "Ah! Ah! I let go! I let go!" He swears when she drops the digit and takes a couple cautious steps back. Toothless and Valka snicker a few paces behind them, and the dragons sniff at her hand as if she possesses some new magic.

"You were warned," she mutters, letting a Zippleback duck into her palm for petting.

"I can train the offspring of lightning and death itself," he grunts, "But not a woman." He cradles his offended appendage close.

"Consider me untrainable," she replies with a taste of haughtiness.

Once he recovers, Hiccup jogs off to climb the hilltop at the base of the waterfall. Toothless bounds away to play with a larger species she doesn't recognize, and Valka comes to stand and watch by her side.

Hiccup seems different here. Almost a little childlike. He uses his fingers to whistle, though she can't hear it over the cacophony of rushing water and dragon noises. There's a rumbling that sounds like an earthquake, and then the behemoth– the Bewildebeast– rises from the water to its full height. Astrid hopes her squeaked gasp of fear isn't audible to the woman at her side.

"Unfathomable, isn't he?" Valka leans into her staff, a tall and intricately carved thing that looks too smooth and pale to be wooden.

"I… I can't…" There aren't any words to describe the vast creature. They're mere ants compared to this giant. Unfathomable is apt– she couldn't have imagined such a dragon even in her wildest nightmares. She watches Hiccup give the Bewildebeast an almost comedic bow, bending in half with a sweeping arm. "It's terrifying."

"Mmm," she agrees, nodding. But she's smiling as her son braces his feet against the edge of the overpass and reaches his arms as far as he can. The enormous beast dips his head just slightly so Hiccup can lean precariously against one of the fins protruding from his temple. It makes Astrid nervous. "He protects us all. Makes this a safe place for all peaceful souls."

Astrid folds her arms in front of her. Narrows her gaze at the young man risking his life to pet the massive Bewildebeast. Life with Hiccup has never been what she would call "peaceful". Fighting and arguing and trying to see who can hurt the other best. But things have also been changing between them recently. He's gentle and vulnerable when she least expects it. How much of their tumultuous relationship is still because of who they are, and how much of it is habit? She's still trying to understand how her husband is both the dark and hostile Dragon Master and the tender voice in her ear at dawn. All she knows lately is that she wants him near.

"Why didn't you come back for him?" she hears herself ask, but she has to resist flushing when she realizes she's said it aloud. "Was it because the villagers didn't agree with you? Or because you didn't want to give up your freedom?"

Valka only looks a little hurt when she turns to look at Astrid. After a moment, she quietly answers, "All of it." There's a brutal honesty that she wasn't expecting in the woman's face.

"I was tired of the fighting. With my husband, the villagers, the dragons. I was afraid of putting my family in danger because I couldn't kill a dragon, yes– but I was scared for myself too. Scared of what others thought, of what I'd do if I had to watch the violence continue…" Taking an unsteady breath, she looks down as if peering into decades long gone. "I was afraid of raising a son who'd grow to be just the same. What if he was ashamed of me? What if he hated me the way he hated dragons?"

Straightening, she gives Astrid a tight smile. "I had no way of knowing he'd be different. Like me. I couldn't have predicted he'd be alone. When Hiccup and I found each other–"

"How old was he?" she cuts in, curious.

"Seventeen." Something sad flits across her features. "He'd already experienced so much grief by then… If I had known he would've faced what he did, I never would've stayed away." She gives her son a glance rife with longing and regret. He babbles to the Bewildebeast unaware. "I thought it was for the best. Thought I'd do more harm than good by his side. You don't need to tell me I was wrong. I already know."

It's more of an answer than Astrid could've asked for. Despite herself, she almost understands Valka. She's still unsure about the woman, but at the least, Astrid can tell she's grieved the time lost with her family.

"That's why I meant it, when I said I was grateful for you." Valka sighs and begins walking towards her son and the mammoth dragon. Astrid reluctantly follows a pace behind. "He's a strong man. Stronger than he should have to be. But he's much too troubled, and it's too late for a mother to undo the damage."

She hesitates before speaking. "Valka, I'm not… Our marriage isn't what I think you want it to be." Watching the woman's lean frame, she flexes her fingers. Her hands feel too empty.

"I guessed as much when you called him a cocky drunk." There's a note of amusement in her tone.

Astrid doesn't apologize. The insult was deserved.

"He's not perfect, but he's a compassionate man." Pride strengthens her voice. "Deeply sensitive. Caring and protective. If he was anyone else, he would be much happier by now."

"I don't know what you're trying to say."

She catches a glimpse of a smile in Valka's profile. "He's compassionate, so he can't sit by idle while others suffer. He feels the need to do what no one else will, to protect those that I can't help or that can't help themselves."

"Like Berk," she supplies flatly, remembering their tense discussion from earlier. It takes her even further back, to a boy whose inventions never worked right. He was always insisting that he could make things better, easier. Trying to help long before he could lift a sword.

"Like Berk," the dragon woman repeats. "But he's not meant to be a warrior, Hiccup. He feels every loss profoundly, every wound." The pitiful croon she makes is full of sympathy. "He's been hurt in so many ways. He wants peace, but he's surrounded by violence and strife. It's easier for him to try not to feel everything he does than to be scarred by every battle." She pauses. "The drinking, though. I hadn't realized it'd gotten so bad."

"It's not so bad," she whispers, almost to herself. "Lately."

Valka pauses in her steps before they get too close to the Bewildebeast, for which Astrid is thankful. One of the dragons, a familiar four-winged type, flutters to his feet beside the woman. He blinks and inspects Astrid like a shrewd owl.

"So even if this marriage isn't a love match," she finally concludes. "I'm happy he's found someone besides Toothless that he's willing to keep by his side." She reaches up to give the dragon's chest an affectionate scratch. "Even a challenging companion is a potential wound. If he's risking the scar, he must think you're worth it."

Her heart flutters traitorously. Astrid lifts a hand to feel the excited pulse at her throat, hoping to disguise how surprised she is by Valka's evaluation. She's never considered Hiccup to be sensitive, protective, compassionate. But looking back on her time with him, it's all true. It feels like she's looking at him– now stretched out while hatchlings overwhelm him– and seeing an entirely new person. Not a frightening phantom, but a guardian. Not a callous Dragon Master, but a shield, taking blows from both sides of a bloody war.

She thinks she's starting to understand. To see the hesitation in every soft kiss he's placed on her skin. To understand why it's easier to hold a flask than her hand and communicate with kisses instead of words. She thinks her chest might burst with these new revelations, that her stomach might jump into her throat. Unexpectedly, impossibly, unfathomably, she thinks she might be falling in love with her husband.

"You should go to bed," he mutters through her half conscious daze.

She forces her heavy eyelids to lift so she can check on his sketch of a prosthetic paw for one of the dragons she'd seen hobbling happily earlier in the day. It seems to get darker sooner with the ceilings of ice above them, but even though it's pitch black, it can't be long after dinner time.

"Are you coming?"

"No."

"Then not yet."

She's stubbornly holding onto the last few moments of the day. Truthfully, she's surprised her body's so willing to fall asleep so early when she's been routinely staying awake until dawn. The exhaustion of their journey and the surprise of meeting Hiccup's mother have taken more out of her than she expected. Curling her knees closer to her chest, she sets her head back against his shoulder. They're leaning against Toothless' warm belly, and she can't honestly say that it isn't more comfortable than the promise of bed.

"I suspect he wants to tell stories about you without you overhearing." Valka gives her son a teasing glance from across the fire. Her own hands are busy changing the bandages of a Gronkle that looks nearly starved.

"All the more reason for me to stay right here," she sighs. "Discourage gossip and slander."

"I was going to tell her about Snotlout," he says quietly. The name instantly causes her smile to fall, and her throat catches as if she's swallowed a pebble. "Didn't figure you'd want to hear the story a second time."

Valka must pick up on the sharp change in their moods, because she slowly allows her content expression to contort with concern. Her next words are hushed. "What story? What's happened?"

Astrid feels Hiccup glance at her, but she doesn't meet his gaze. Nodding for him to go on, she tilts her face a little farther from the light.

Hiccup clears his throat. His voice sounds tight. "A Nightmare… killed Spitelout's son. Snotlout, Berk's heir."

Valka gasps in horror. "Hiccup…"

"He was… trying to argue with me. I was trying to distract the Nightmare, but he wanted to fight."

"What for?"

He pauses. It takes a few heart beats of empty silence, but then sick and sudden realization sets in.

"It was me, wasn't it?" Astrid feels her stomach give a nauseating lurch. "He was trying to avenge me, wasn't he?"

The way Hiccup doesn't reply says plenty. She remembers the night he told her, the surety that she was going to vomit. That feeling is returning with awful severity.

"They swarmed me," he begins again. "They would've grabbed me if Toothless and the Nightmare hadn't been so close." This is part of the tale she hasn't heard, and she almost wants to cover her ears so she won't. "Dad was holding Snotlout. He– he said he'd tear out the heart of every dragon on Berk." He chuckles humorlessly. "Then mine."

"He doesn't know," Valka murmurs.

"It wasn't your fault." Astrid's not sure she's ever told him, but it feels important that she does now. "You can't prevent everything."

"She's right," Valka agrees stiltedly, clearly still in shock.

Of course I am, she thinks. It's not your fault, Hiccup, it's mine. The reality of her childhood friend's death is almost too much to swallow. Guilt makes her ill.

"Anyways, Berk isn't safe right now." He takes a steadying breath through his nose, but she can hear the way it trembles. "I don't know what they might do in retaliation, so don't venture too far south for a while."

"I'll trust your advice," his mother nods. "Drago's trappers are lingering in the North anyhow."

Another unfamiliar name. Another piece of Hiccup's life that she doesn't know anything about. Part of her tucks the question away for a later day.

"You should've seen the look in Dad's eyes," he says in a way that tells her the comment isnt directed toward her. He sets down his sketch pad and stretches out his leg. "Like a rabid animal. Crazy."

She wants to defend him, to say that the chief wasn't always that way. But who would know that better than his wife and son? Stoick was already just barely holding the reins to the council before her sacrifice. She suspects it's near anarchy now.

"You can always tell him," Valka reminds Hiccup, wise brow raised. "I don't care what he's become, he wouldn't harm you if he knew who you were."

"Not interested." His reply is curt. He stretches an arm across Toothless' side and consequently across Astrid's shoulders. "He never listened to me when I was around. Why would he listen to me now?"

He and his mother trade glances, and a history crackles between them. Astrid's head spins– with torn ambivalence towards Berk's chief, with the truth of Snot's death, with the day's overload of information. The space that was so warm and comfortable just moments ago suddenly feels stifling.

"I think I'm going to turn in after all," she informs them, giving Toothless a fond pat before pushing to her feet. "I'm sure the two of you want to catch up without an audience."

"I'll walk you there," Hiccup volunteers with a grunt. He stands and gestures towards the twisting tunnels they'd entered through. "Be right back, Mom."

She's grateful for his guidance, because she was honestly very unsure how to make it back to the little cave he used for a room. The whole walk feels jittery, though, like some unfulfilled discussion is crackling between them. She wants to reach for his arm, but he keeps a respectful distance between them. It feels almost like being walked home after a date.

"I'm glad you brought me to meet your mom," she finally finds the words to say once they reach the cramped outlet. It's so much like their room in the mountain, just very compact. The furs are stacked in a dip in the stone wall, not quite large enough to be an alcove. There are things of his scattered on the floor, like he never left this space.

He doesn't exactly reply. Hiccup reaches for her wrist, pulling her in and resting his hands on her waist. His expression is troubled.

"If you get cold, there's more blankets in the trunk," he tells her. "The dragons don't usually come this way, but if they think your smell is weird they might come sniff you out. They won't bother you."

"Okay." She can hardly make out his features in the dark. It makes it hard to decipher what exactly he's thinking, why exactly he seems so distressed.

"It'll be easier to find your way once the sun rises," he continues. "If you need anything, you can call for my mom."

"Okay," she echoes.

She's hoping for a kiss. The gentle way he's holding her is nice, but if they're parting a kiss seems appropriate. She thinks he's considering the same thing, because he lowers his face until his breath is fanning across her mouth. His hair tickles her forehead, his warmth radiating even where they're not touching. Just before she thinks he's going to meet her mouth with his, though, he pulls away and drops a deeply unsatisfying kiss to her forehead.

"Sweet dreams," he says with a sigh. Then he lets her go, footsteps ricocheting through the dark tunnels.

Exhaustion weighs her down, and she crawls into bed with too much on her mind. Before falling asleep, though, she reaches her fingertips to her brow and traces the warm imprint his lips have left behind.

Hiccup's right– the twisting caves make much more sense during the morning, because all she has to do is follow the brightness to find a way out. Her dreams were sweet, surprisingly, despite the dour mood with which she departed for bed. And she wakes with the determination to discover more about her husband and the time he spent between Berk and this place.

"Good morning," she greets Valka when she finds the woman sitting by the fire with a cup of something steaming in her hands. The four-winged dragon– Cloudjumper– is there with her, and he licks his lips and watches wide-eyed as Astrid enters the main chamber.

The older woman looks up as if she's surprised to hear her voice, brows lifted high. But then she recovers, smiling tightly and gripping her mug a little firmer. "Good morning. You're an early riser." The sight of her white knuckles makes nervousness stir in Astrid's gut.

"Well, I'm sure I fell asleep long before you did," she says carefully. She doesn't see Hiccup, which surprises her just a little. Since he never came to bed, she'd assumed he'd stayed up all night talking with his mother or fell asleep on Toothless' belly by the fire. "Did you manage to get him up this early? How?"

Valka drops her gaze to her mug for a moment before parting her lips as if to speak. It seems like she's having difficulty finding the words. "They didn't sleep here last night."

If not with her or his mother, then where? Out in the sanctuary with the dragons? Astrid feels an uneasy dread beginning to slither up the back of her neck. Something's off about Valka's entire demeanor, and it doesn't make sense that Hiccup wouldn't have stayed in the tunnels with them.

"Where are they?" she asks, almost too afraid to hear the answer. "Where's Hiccup?"

Valka swallows hard, looking up and meeting her gaze with apologetic remorse. Her eyes are a cloudy green, not the striking viridian of her son's. She doesn't have to say it, but Astrid waits for the axe to drop anyways.

"He left," she tells her quietly and regretfully. "He's gone."