Chapter Twenty-one.

The first time Astrid awoke was to respond to the suddenly violent twisting of her stomach. She wasn't aware of where she was or what was happening- all she knew was the sharp, nauseous lurch and bile in the back of her throat.

"Good girl," a voice murmured nearby. Hands pushed sweaty hair away from her face as her eyes watered and her body heaved with painful retching. Her torso felt like it was being torn in half. Like she was being split open and sliced straight down her middle. Sobbing and gasping, she laid back into the softness that should have brought her comfort.

Wherever she was, it was dim. Her head spun too much for her eyes to focus on the flickering shadows and swirling details. Everything was pain, fire, aching. Breath labored, she listened to the wheeze of her own lungs and let it send her back to sleep.

In the distance, someone whispered, "You're okay. You're safe. I'm here."

She almost dreamed. There were morphing colors and distorted sounds, things that wanted to take shape and permeate her dark subconscious. Every now and then she'd see the flash of a blade or hear a vicious roar. Talons tore across the walls of her mind. Then fingertips would brush away the claw marks left behind. She could just barely feel warm lips against her temples. Snatches of conversation wove in and out of audibility like the tangled laces of her nicest dress.

And when she woke for the second time, she knew it was hours later. The atmosphere was a little different, and the sharp knives of pain had diminished to a stiff and dreary soreness.

Shifting orange light sizzled through her lashes as they parted. Astrid blinked, not entirely awake. There was a heaviness in her limbs that kept her still, an exhaustion that soaked through her muscles. She barely had the energy to open her eyes and drag them across the stone ceiling above her.

The bed of furs where she was lying was tucked into what seemed to be a natural little alcove in a cave wall. The furs weren't neatly sewn off like the ones at home, but they had rough, unfinished edges. They were wrapped carefully around her, drawn up to her collarbone. Her arms had been left free, and while she couldn't seem to locate the control for her left hand, her right fingers twitched inside a restricting warmth.

Her gaze slid to her right. Hiccup leaned against the edge of the strange niche, his head cushioned by his arm. His eyes were closed, his chest slowly rising and falling, and his fingers were tangled in hers by her side. Fire light danced across his features.

Toothless rested nearby. She could hear his own rumbling breaths. When she searched him out, she found his black shape standing out from the shadows in the corner. Florescent green eyes met hers, and he lifted his head from his paws to look at her. He made a curious little hum.

Soothed, Astrid's eyelids fell once more. This time her dreams were solid and sweet.

"No scorching sun nor freezing cold... could stop me on my journey..."

A faint, fragmented song broke into her consciousness, sung in a low and off-tune whisper near her ear. Hiccup's voice was decidedly not meant for serenading, but it was perfect for drawing her up and out of the haze of pain and sleepy images.

"If you will promise me your heart... and love me for eternity..."

Astrid stirred, feeling an arm slung across her waist. It grounded her into her body, making her aware of her position. She was buried in the bed of furs she remembered, curled up on her right side and folded gently against a warm, bandaged chest. Testing her left side, she dragged weak fingertips along the strips of fabric. It would seem she was regaining function, slowly.

She exhaled into his collarbone. Then she drew a breath and mumbled, "What song is that?"

Hiccup stiffened, his hand fisting in the furs at her back. Then he released a long and heavy sigh, nuzzling his nose in her hair. "A lullaby my mom used to sing," he answered, kissing back her bangs. "I don't remember all the words."

Astrid tried to roll to her back, to lean away so she could see him, but her muscles protested sharply. She cringed and swallowed thickly. Her tongue felt drier than dust, scraping against the inside of her mouth in its search for moisture. She could hear dripping water somewhere, and her parched throat craved a drop.

"Careful," he told her, following his warning with a series of dragon-esque noises that she wondered if he meant to speak in Norse. Peeling away a layer of furs, his fingers skittered up her spine, making her realize that her shirt had been removed. He tugged at something digging into her shoulder. "I don't think it'll open up again. But let's not take chances."

She noticed that his bandages were wrapped differently than she had tied them- when had that been? Last night? Two nights ago? How long had she been asleep? They were sloppier, if possible, and she could just barely fit her fingertips beneath some of the loops. "What about yours?"

"It's fine. The stitches were bugging me. I took 'em out."

Astrid made a tired noise of disapproval. "They were helping you heal."

"Night Fury saliva works better," he countered. Then he shifted, pushing up on his elbow and pressing his forehead against hers so he could look in her face. Even in the dim light, she could make out the dark bruises under his eyes. "How do you feel?"

"Sore," she answered, drinking in his face. "Thirsty."

His reply was a bobbing nod. He carefully untangled their legs and pulled away, easing out of the alcove before crawling out of the light of the fire and disappearing into the dark. It seemed that the lupine grace that had slowly faded during his time on Berk was returning. He loped on his hands and the balls of his feet again, where he'd been beginning to walk upright most of the time.

Wherever he ducked away to, it couldn't be far, because she could hear him bumbling and moving objects around. With her senses sharpening every moment, she could also detect the faint sound of rushing water and faint chattering noises.

"Where am I?" she asked the moment he returned, shallow bowl in hand. At first she had thought perhaps her strange haven was somewhere deep in the cove, or maybe in the mountains of Berk. The sounds didn't quite add up, though, and she'd explored most of Berk as a child. This place was decidedly unfamiliar.

"My nest." Hiccup set the bowl aside for a minute to gently ease her into a sitting position. She grunted against the twinge in her shoulder, but it wasn't completely unbearable. Then he was easing behind her and leaning her back against his chest. She was pleased to note that while he had removed her shirt and breast bindings, there was a bandage covering her breasts and left shoulder.

"Your nest?" she echoed, shock in her tone. Though she was about to say more, she was interrupted by the press of cold ceramic at her lips. Her fingers curled around Hiccup's wrist, steadying his hand, and she gratefully sipped at the cool water. It was crisp and chilly and impossibly clean-tasting. She drank so quickly that she almost inhaled a swallow- sending her choking and flinching and coughing. Before Hiccup could stop her and ask her if she was alright, she was searching for more and gulping at it despite the burn in her throat. Drops dribbled past the corners of her mouth and trickled down her neck. She didn't release his wrist until the bowl was empty.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Tried to get you to drink some while you were sleeping. Wasn't easy."

Shaking her head against his apology, she wiped the back of her hand against her wet chin. "Your nest- why am I here?"

"I brought you here." His voice rang with a little confusion. "I asked you if you wanted me to leave you with them. You said no."

Astrid didn't recall that. Then again, she'd been so woozy from the poison coursing through her system, she found the entire scene a little foggy. All she remembered- all that was important- was that he'd come back. He'd arrived exactly when she'd needed him.

"How am I alive?" she wondered then. She leaned her head back against his shoulder until she could see his face.

Hiccup swiped a droplet off of her throat with the pad of his thumb. "We've lived with dragons for almost twenty years. We'd be in rough shape if we didn't learn how to make anti-venoms and whatnot."

The use of his plural pronouns made her stiffen against him. A strange nervousness curled in her chest. "Is your mom here?"

"Mm-mm." His braid brushed her temple as he shook his head. "I checked. Off on a rescue or something."

Well, that soothed her unease a little bit. The disorientation of waking up without knowing when or where she was stressed her out slightly, but the thought of Valka being the one to undress her and nurse her back to health would have made her completely unravel. "I guess you don't know when she'll be back?"

"Nope."

"Lovely."

Feeling his steady breathing behind her was peaceful. His heart beat through both of their bandages and into her back. It shouldn't have been as comforting as it was, but before long, the gentle rise and fall of his chest began to turn into waves that rocked her back and forth. She was pulled beneath the tide again, and her fingers found his hair as her eyes closed.

She slept a lot. So much that she wasn't sure when the days changed. Time blurred in a series of dreams and bowlfuls of water and half-cooked fish that Hiccup fed her with his fingers. They exchanged pieces of conversation when she was awake, sometimes questions about the state of things on Berk, the likelihood that they'd been followed. Sometimes they didn't talk at all, letting their hands slide against each other, barely touching as their skin picked up bolts of faint friction. Occasionally he kissed her awake. Rarer, he was roused by her lips against his throat. For once, she didn't have to leave him, and he didn't have to leave her. They were able to trade childhood stories and terrible jokes (mostly supplied by Astrid) and relive painful memories with each other.

For example, the subject of her missing shirt inspired the retelling of the first time her mother had sat her down and discussed womanhood with her. It'd been shortly after her first cycle, and she'd gripped the kitchen chair with white knuckles and red cheeks and tried not to die of embarrassment. She didn't want to know just how Snot, Legs, and Tuff were different from her and Ruff. She didn't want to know about the mysteries of the male organ and how it operated and how one day she'd have a husband that she'd have to let shove his organ between her legs. That weird and secret place that she was just beginning to realize came with maintenance instructions. And the fact that he would plant seeds in her womb? Gods, that thought terrified her as a girl.

Those confessions made Hiccup laugh so hard she had to lean away from him, because he was jostling her injury. He explained his own experience on the topic. How his mother had caught him staring at a pair of mating dragons at an age so young he hardly remembered it. How she pointed out the differences in the male and female and how they fit together. Then with a matter-of-fact tone, she'd explained that Hiccup would find a human he wanted to mate with one day, and that was that. His curiosity was satiated, and it never became an issue until he was thirteen or fourteen and suddenly his body became treasonous. The story he shared with her about the first time he touched himself made her blush and bite back giggles.

It was easy. It was safe. There was no one around to discourage their behavior, their indecent discussions. Occasionally Toothless would wander in and nudge at Hiccup until the young man took him flying. But while they were undisturbed, they were completely at ease with each other. It was the longest opportunity they'd had to spend together since they met. When she was tired, she slept. When she was hungry, he fed her. And when she had to relieve herself, he helped her to the chamber pot and- to her extreme gratefulness- left to check on "everybody". Anything she wanted, he provided. Anything she couldn't do for herself, he accomplished.

On what Hiccup said was the third day, she told him she needed a bath.

It was past due. Laugurdagur would have been two days past, and she was covered in blood, sweat, some mystery concoction slathered onto her shoulder, and more Night Fury spit than she wanted to think about. Her hair felt grimy and smelled stale. Her face was almost too gross to allow him to kiss. She needed to feel clean again.

His lips twitched in a way that told her he wasn't one hundred percent interested in the idea, but despite whatever his reservations may have been, he nodded.

She was still far too weak to walk on her own. It made her feel annoyed and helpless, but as long as Hiccup was the only one to see her in that condition, she could live with it. He pushed back the furs of what she learned was his bed and helped her to her feet. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist and let her lean into him as they shuffled out.

The cave-like room she'd spent her recovery in narrowed into a long hallway, then opened again into a large, open space. There was another fire crackling in the center, an oven-like contraption pushed against the wall. Baskets were tucked into the corners, and rough, bench-like seating had been placed around the fire pit. Hiccup's gear was shucked by a separate tunnel- where it led, she had no idea. But this space wasn't enclosed. Large gaps in the stone looked out into the dark of night, and through it she could hear the loud clicking and squawking of dragons and the louder sound of rushing water.

For the first time, it struck Astrid that this was Hiccup's home. That he grew up with his mother around that fire. She blinked for a moment, taking it all in. It was sparse, maybe even bare, but there were hints of a human life. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but this little picture of domesticity wasn't it.

Her gaze fell on a small pair of scissors and a knife that rested on a flattish boulder. It seemed to act as their table. "Bring those," she murmured to him, and he obeyed without argument. He left her to lean against the stone wall, tucking the items into his waistband, and then gathered a few more odds and ends before taking his place at her side once more.

"The rocks are steep here," he cautioned her as they stepped out into the open air. The light that filtered down from the sky was odd- the moonlight seemed milky and dispersed. Using his throat in a way she could only hope to mimic, Hiccup made an odd chirping noise.

She knew he was calling a dragon. Her common sense, if not the sound of beating wings, told her that. What she wasn't expecting, however, was to see the familiar face of her Nadder soaring forward to meet her.

Astrid gasped. "Stormfly!" Slowly moving across mossy rocks, she nearly dragged Hiccup along in her efforts to get close to the dragon. "You're okay!"

He chuckled. The Nadder trilled happily and nuzzled her horn into Astrid's belly.

She forced her weak left arm to rise and scratch at Stormfly's warm scales. Her dragon purred and clicked with satisfaction, then blinked up at the girl with sad, woeful eyes. She nudged at Astrid's shoulder.

"What, this?" she jerked her chin at the wound. "This is nothing. Wait until I show you my thigh."

After another few moments of reconciliation, Hiccup carefully lifted Astrid onto the Nadder's back and then climbed on behind her. She'd never ridden Stormfly with Hiccup, and it was a little strange. Also nice. With another dragon noise, he commanded the Nadder into flight, and her dragon glided down from the rocks with prompt obedience. She thought that they were going to fly farther, but he only guided Stormfly down the steep cliff-side and into the dark valley.

As her eyes adjusted, she found the source of the rushing water- a giant waterfall that poured into a crystal clear lake. Even in the dim, odd moonlight, she could make out small dragons swimming just beneath the surface.

"Wow," she breathed, tracing the source of the water up. That was when she realized the reason for the strange distortion of the evening light: the sanctuary didn't open to the sky. It was enclosed in what looked like a giant, iced dome. It made no sense, especially considering the almost balmy temperature of the lush green environment. But that was where the water was coming from- it was run off from the enormous icy roof. "This is... incredible, Hiccup."

He chuckled, helping her off of the Nadder's back. She leaned heavily on him as he escorted her to the lake's edge. Then he sat her down. "His Majesty will be happy to hear that."

"His Majesty?" Astrid blinked up at him, confused.

Hiccup grinned mischievously. Then he nodded behind her.

She expected to see someone standing in the lake, perhaps wearing a crown. But there was nothing there. Just a few hatchlings curled up on a hill of snow and ice. Furrowing her brow, she looked back at him.

The wild man kicked a stone into the water. To Astrid's surprise, several of the dragons beneath the surface began to glow, and she gasped at the sight of the luminescent tidal class beasts that swam and wriggled frantically. "Oh my gods!" she exclaimed on an awed exhale. "They're-"

And then she was cut off. There was a groan, and then disgruntled squeaks of baby dragons. The smile dropped from her face as she whirled around. Her movement was too quick- pain lashed through her injury- but shock kept her from even noticing. What she had thought was a snow drift shifted, breathed. And then it rose and turned. What had appeared to be icicles became jaw and crown fins. A mouth that could swallow a hundred of her whole grumbled in a voice that seemed to shake the earth beneath her. Without meaning to, Astrid released a terrified whimper.

Hiccup laughed, and she swallowed hard when she realized that drew the beast's attention. It was impossibly huge- bigger even than the queen they'd seen at dragon island. Slitted pupils slid down to evaluate the two humans on its shore. Then it settled back into the water, making an enormous wave lap up over the edge and reach for Astrid's knees.

"What... is that?" she breathed, afraid to raise her voice.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Hiccup fold himself into a low bow. "Our alpha," he answered, no fear in his tone. "The Bewilderbeast."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she examined the giant. It blinked slowly, not moving his gaze from her. She had the feeling that it was looking past her face and seeing into the very darkest corners of her mind. With all she was learning about dragons, she wouldn't put it past the thing.

"Is it upset that I'm here?" she whispered.

"If he was upset, you wouldn't be here," Hiccup teased. "Say hello."

That seemed foolish. She didn't expect Toothless to meet Stoick with a handshake. So with a hard gulp, she pressed her hand to her fluttering pulse and bobbed her head, dropping her gaze.

When she glanced back up, Hiccup was smiling oddly at her. The Bewilderbeast exhaled what looked like steam, until the little breeze reached the shore and she shivered at the spray of ice crystals. Then his eyes floated away.

"You're in," Hiccup informed her, coming to sit next to her. "He approves."

"I'd hate to see what he'd do if he didn't," she thought aloud. Still unnerved, she forced herself to look away from the titan.

"He's gentle, unless he has to be otherwise." His smile was lopsided. "Don't worry about him. You wanted a bath, right?"

Astrid forced her apprehension to settle, for her heart to stop its nervous hammering. Nodding, she pushed up to her knees and steadied herself on Hiccup's shoulders as he undid her skirt. It fell around her thighs, and then his thumbs hooked inside her leggings and underwear. She held her breath and tried to remember what Hiccup had told her earlier about sex and nakedness. That it was natural. That he'd never known a reason to be embarrassed of it until her. But this was so different than being undressed under his heated gaze. This exposure felt more like nudity to her.

"You're gonna bite your lip off," he muttered, helping her out of her clothes. Setting everything she'd need for her bath on the shore, he then stood and removed his own pants and bandages. Astrid drew her teeth back into her mouth, averting her gaze.

"This water's probably the cleanest you'll find in the world." Kneeling, he unknotted her wraps and gently began to peel them away from her skin. The freedom was already an improvement on her feeling of sticky grossness. "It'll probably even help this heal- though- looks like Toothless' spit is doing a good enough job of it anyways."

Astrid cringed away from the thought. "Whatever you say, dragon-boy."

He shot her a playful glance. Then he was wading into the water. His arm reached out for her. "Okay. Your bath is ready."

She snorted, leaning on her right side as she crawled to the edge and stared at the glittering surface. Apprehension gripped her as she thought about the water's icy source- would it be as frigid as it looked? Braving a toe in the lake, she was thoroughly surprised to find it brisk- but not freezing. Scooting closer, she allowed Hiccup to help her past the short drop.

One of the glowing dragons wiggled past them as she settled on her knees beneath the water. Like that, it came just high enough to cover her breasts and leave her shoulders exposed. She was pleased.

Closing her eyes, she sighed and basked in the delicious feeling of cool refreshment. It was just cold enough to feel good to her aching muscles, but not so icy that she shivered. Astrid felt over a week of grime and ick wash away, along with the stale odor her body had produced sweating out the after effects of Stormfly's poison. While she used her cupped hands to splash herself, Hiccup rubbed himself down with the bar of soap he'd brought from the main room.

She found herself stealing glances at the expanses of pale, freckled skin. It took her back to the night of their first kiss, when she'd caught him bathing half dressed in the cove's lake. She'd felt guilty then for watching, but now she just felt bashful.

From what she could tell in the half-dark, his lacerations were healing just fine without his stitches. The thought had worried her, but they were already scabbed over and pink around the edges. It made her wonder what her own injury looked like, if Toothless' saliva was really as effective as his rider proclaimed. She noticed a little bruising around the cuts, but that was also yellowed and fading. With a frown, she wondered if the thought of his dead dragon brother bothered him more than the scars he'd left behind. Probably so.

Instead of thinking on it, she let her gaze slide upwards, to the shape of his shoulders. They weren't particularly muscular or anything, like Snotlout's, but they were broad and defined. She especially liked the spray of dots that seemed to dust his skin. Her eyes dipped lower, down the flexing muscles of his arms and the tapering to his wrist. He scrubbed at his stomach, and she examined the faint shadows of his abdominals. Her teeth were burrowing back into her bottom lip. She was following the whispy trail of hair from his navel lower and lower until she hit the water's surface and heard a clearing throat.

Astrid snapped to attention, quickly drawing her gaze away. She resumed wetting her skin innocently, though she could see him smirking at her in her peripheral vision. Mouth pursed, she ignored him.

Hiccup made a clicking noise, and it took Astrid a moment to realize he was speaking to her. At her baffled gaze, he shook his head. "Sorry. C'mere."

She allowed him to pull her to her feet and tug her close. At first, she expected him to tease her for being caught staring, but he only ran soapy hands over her arms and neck. He was very careful when he moved to her back, but suds still slid past her wound. She hissed and pressed into his chest, nails digging into his waist as she flinched at the sharp sting.

"Sorry," he blurted. "Sorry sorry." Quickly rinsing away the burning soap, he blew gently on the back of her shoulder. Goosebumps raced down her spine. She shivered, and it wasn't completely because of the cold.

Astrid pressed her cheek against the warmth of his chest, careful not to disturb his injuries. She thought of how at ease he seemed here and let him wash her back with steady hands. It was as if he was pressed on by an invisible gravity on Berk, one she hadn't noticed until she saw him in his home and picked out the little details. The smoothness in his crouch, the ownership in the way he carried himself. The way he slipped in and out of his dragon talk without realizing it. She realized that this was who he was when there was nothing else he had to be. Where he didn't have to be self conscious of his wildness.

"Does it feel good to be home?" she murmured, letting him turn her so that he could reach her front. It didn't slip her notice that his his hands lingered on her breasts- in fact, it sent almost painful thrills of excitement darting between her thighs- but he didn't make any obvious attempts at anything other than washing her.

"Mmm," he hummed in affirmative. "It feels good to have you in my home." He traced the outline of her waist, scrubbed the soap over her navel in loose, wide circles.

"Hey, Hiccup," she began.

"Mm?"

Astrid nodded her head towards the shore, where the scissors and knife she'd asked him to bring lay. "Will you shave for me?"

His hands paused, but quickly resumed their work. "Yes. Why?"

She pressed her lips together, sealing them against the urge to tell him that she wanted him to look more human. She'd already made the mistake once of calling him anything but, and she wasn't about to let something like that slip again. All she wanted was for him to look nice. For when he met his father. And for her.

"Do you trust me?" she said instead. Hopefully it wouldn't come off as some weird life or death thing. She just wasn't ready to explain herself quite yet.

"Of course."

"Then do it. Please. I'll tell you later."

Hiccup accepted her promise without any questions, passing the slippery, sharp-smelling soap into her hands before moving for the shore. While his back was turned, she washed the parts of herself that she was still embarrassed to let him touch. Then she dipped her head back into the water and let her sticky braid drink in the cool moisture. She quickly untied it while he wasn't watching, running the soap through her locks before detangling the knots with her fingers. Her eyes stayed on him in case he turned and caught her.

Watching him shave was both fascinating and a little nerve-wracking. Astrid tried not to let on that she was paying attention, but with every scrape of the blade across his neck, she cringed. He'd mentioned he wasn't great at it, and so every time she heard him swear under his breath, she was hit with a pang of anxiety and guilt. For some reason she felt the need to take the knife and do it herself, but that was just her controlling nature trying to break free. She'd likely be even worse than he was at working with the impromptu razor.

So she washed her hair and watched him shave his. After he set down the knife, sporting a new nick or two around his throat, she took the scissors to his long nails. She scraped the tip of the blade underneath, ensuring no dirt or dust was left behind. Then she murmured for him to wash his own tangled mop before trimming it into something manageable. It stayed more than long enough to tie back into his normal braid, but she cut off frayed ends and wrapped knots that were attempting to become dreadlocks.

She wasn't able to do all she wanted- her left arm tired quickly, and she couldn't work with just her right. But that was okay. She didn't want to change him too much. Just clean him up a little. In the end, she was pleased.

When he turned and reached up to feel the remains of his hair, his expression was unsure. He lifted a brow at her, as if to ask how he looked, and her heart fluttered at the sight of his jawline, usually hidden beneath his scruff. It made her blink, and her mouth pulled into a proud smile. He looked handsome.

He looked like a Viking.

"Astrid," he whispered sometime during the night.

She stirred, shifting her naked body against his. "Hmm?"

His thumb traced absently along the slope of her neck, his touch just firm enough to not tickle. "You're not... ashamed of me? Are you?"

Blinking her eyes open, she adjusted her head on the pillow of his arm. "No." She knew he was confused by her grooming session. She caught him rubbing his chin several times during the evening. "Is this because I asked you to shave?"

Hiccup didn't answer. He hooked his knee around hers. "I would understand. You want your people to trust me. When we go back."

"That's part of it."

He didn't hesitate. "What's the other part?"

Her next move took a little strategizing. She wanted to twist and face him, but her shoulder wouldn't allow her to lie on her left side. So she had to push herself into a sitting position. Astrid rested her chin against her collarbone so she could look at him.

"I love you," she murmured. The admission fell easily from her lips. Even if the words she'd spoken to him in the kill ring had been a fevered dream, he had to have known by now how she felt about him.

He pushed up on his elbows. "I love you too." In the firelight, his expression was one of confusion, but she could also detect the pleasure he took in the short exchange. That simple trade of words.

Astrid wet her lips. "Why?"

The etch in his brow deepened. A faint irritation flickered in his eyes, and he lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. "I don't... That's not how love works, Astrid." He shook his head at her. "There's no combination of characteristics that can earn somebody's love. There's not some kind of list that people have to match to be worthy of affection."

She could sense his aggravation, so she used her weak hand to stroke his shoulder and assure him she wasn't going anywhere.

"I love you because of all the things you are," he continued, twisting until he was sitting up. "Things you aren't. I love you because you were the one to find me. I love you despite that." Hiccup frowned at her. "You are Astrid. Brave. Self-sacrificing. A little hard to get to know, but compassionate and caring. You're- you're just Astrid. And until you understand that I know who that is better than you seem to, you're never going to believe me."

"I do," she told him softly. "I do." Drawing her knees under her, she leaned into him and pressed her lips against his. They were hard, still unhappy with her. "I just wanted to hear you say it."

"Is that why you made me shave?" His voice was accusing. "Is that some Viking expression of love?"

A weak smile pulled at her mouth. Dropping her gaze to his jaw, she caressed the bare skin with the backs of her fingers. Something like nervousness fluttered in her breast. "It's customary for the man to be well groomed before his wedding," she informed him, hoping she didn't waver as much as she thought she did. "We won't get one for a while, but I thought we could do what we could about other traditions."

The agitation seemed to be draining from his expression, only to be replaced by something like impatient perplexity. His brows knit together, and the tendons in his jaw twitched as he clenched it.

Astrid opened her mouth, searching for another way to explain. But she could only think of one. Holding onto him for balance, she straddled his lap and smoothed her palm against his cheek. Then she took a shaky breath and gently pushed his head at an angle.

His arm wrapped around her as she lowered her lips to his neck. She kissed him once. Twice. And then lapped her tongue against his skin before sinking her teeth into the warm flesh. Beneath her, Hiccup inhaled sharply. His fingertips dug into her waist. Afraid to hurt him- afraid not to- she bore down a little harder than she wanted to and sucked in a way she knew would send blood rushing to the surface. She might not have the sharp teeth of a female dragon, but she could leave a mark in her own way.

He moaned as she worked the patch of skin with her mouth. Against her thigh, she felt him twitching to life. It seemed he finally understood her meaning.

When she finally released the side of his throat with a wet noise of broken suction, her fingers immediately went to trace the round circle of her teeth marks. Just that damp friction made his breathing harsh, and his other hand rose to bury in her braid. "Astrid," he rasped into her collarbone. "Are you mine?"

In answer, she guided his face back to hers. She kissed him.

Hiccup made a rumbling noise in his chest, drawing her close against him. His hands blindly explored her bare curves, learning the angles of her hipbones and searching for the swells of her breasts beneath her fresh bandages. His mouth was hot and hungry, his tongue barreling past her lips to stroke hers- to explore the insides of her cheeks and the blunt edges of her teeth. He held her like he worshiped her. The thrill of his naked stomach pressed against hers made her legs tremble. A damp arousal began to heat between them.

"My hair," she murmured. "Take it down."

In any other situation, she would have been offended by how quickly he tore away from her. Astrid felt a blush rise in her cheeks as he immediately pulled the cord from her plait. It was tossed aside without even a glance. His eyes were dark, hardly a ring of viridian encircling his fathomless pupils. He ran his fingers through the blonde waves, which were still a little damp from their earlier bath.

She felt the soft weight of her locks settling over her shoulders and thought of the first night he'd come to her window. She'd had her braid down then, but neither of them had noticed until after she left to fetch him a towel. It had made her heart almost stop, to think of someone other than the man she wanted to pledge herself to seeing the thick, curling mess undone. Now he was that person, and he was staring at her hair like it was spun gold. Hiccup brought a fistful of frizzy blonde to his nose and inhaled deeply. He was hard and throbbing beneath her.

After a moment, he pushed her hair over her shoulders and moved his mouth to her throat. She gasped at the feeling of his wet tongue sliding over her pulse point, licking across the muscles of her neck. Desire bled through her veins, making her heart race and her head light. Her thighs tightened around his hips. His lips moved lower, and then he was biting and licking at the bandages that were becoming uncomfortably tight. The necessary layer drove her mad- she craved his touch there, the wet heat of his mouth closing over her nipples. Her body ached for him.

"I want to taste you again," he breathed, and- dazed as she was- she thought he was expressing his own dissatisfaction with her bandaging.

But no. His arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her up and off of of his lap. For a brief, baffled moment, she attempted to speak half-formed protests, confused questions. But then he was laying her down on the furs and crawling over her body. Her shoulder twinged at the pressure, but it was background noise compared to the fire blazing where he kissed.

Hiccup dropped soft brushes of affection across her collarbone, along the edges over bandages. He traced the faint lines of her ribs as they appeared with every heavy inhale. Those gasping breaths turned helpless the farther he moved, becoming a nervous whimper when he nibbled at her hips and licked the skin just beneath her navel.

Then his hands parted her, and her knees were drawn up until she was bare to him. Astrid tried to resist the urge to cover herself, fixing her eyes on his face and nibbling apprehensively at the inside of her cheek. Hiccup's warm breath steamed along the inside of her thigh. He tilted his head to rasp his clean-shaven jaw against the sensitive flesh.

"You have so many scars," he murmured into a kiss placed higher- closer. On the outside of her knee, his fingers reached up to explore the gnarled, rippled skin of her long-healed burn. Further towards her hip, there were places where the nerves had yet to return. But where his fingertips danced was perfect, just perfect. "Are they all from dragons?"

"Most," she replied, a tremor in her voice. "Some from training."

He slid his palm over her scarred and mottled thigh. She expected there was more he wanted to say, but his gaze focused on the gold curls at her center. Hiccup shifted, kneeling over her, and then he tested a single knuckle along her slick folds. She exhaled sharply.

When his tongue first delved through the wet heat of her core, Astrid arched. Her mouth fell open at the combination of shocked pleasure and the dull ache of her injury. Whispering his name, she wanted to stop him, to encourage him, to beg, but her thoughts were scattered links of broken chainmail. He searched her with his mouth, his tongue, groaning with his own obvious delight.

Her hands stole downward to tangle in his hair. The muscles in her abdomen flexed and rippled as she squirmed. In an awful torture, his lips closed over the nub of pure sensation at her peak, and her answering cry ricocheted off the cave walls. Her hips twisted, bucked, and Hiccup gripped her tightly to hold her in place.

She thought that would be her undoing- that the gentle sucking at her most sensitive place would finish her and leave her in pieces. But she was learning that Hiccup's curiosity would never allow him to be satisfied with staying still. He dipped lower, lapping at her dripping arousal. And then his tongue was burying inside of her, pressing with soft licks and pointed thrusts.

Astrid moaned and tugged at the soft bronze locks of his crown. Her gasps and pleas were becoming impossible to repress, her body both trying to escape the dangerous edge of desire and hurtle towards it. His grip was bruising on her hips, his warm invasion unbearable. She trembled beneath his terrible, wonderful mouth and tried to remember to breathe.

Hiccup whispered something, but she was too gone to understand it. The flat of his hand pressed down on her navel, securing her in place, and then he teased two fingers at her entrance. Astrid attempted to shift and greedily take the exquisite pleasure for herself, but he restrained her. Forced them inside with a painful slowness. Her lips moved in quiet, desperate begging, needing more- harder- faster. He responded with an obedience that could have made her weep. And then just when she thought she couldn't take any more, Hiccup lowered his mouth again and sucked relentlessly at her hard pearl.

She felt all of her muscles clench as she shattered. Ecstasy slammed into her, sharp as knives and merciless. A stream of pleas and relieved cries and Hiccup, yes hnn yes Hiccup please tumbled from her in needy mewls. He didn't slack, didn't fade until after the excruciating pleasure left her weak and panting and misted with a sheen of cold sweat.

There was a hunger in his eyes when he lifted his face from between her thighs. He didn't slide his fingers away, still sinking into her with slow cruelty. "Tell me to stop and I will," he rasped, his voice tight and controlled. "I- I don't want to hurt you."

Her gaze dared down his body, observing the strong jut of his length as it stood away from his hips. She wanted it. More than she could understand, she wanted him to take her, claim her. She wanted to belong to him.

And it was at that moment that she realized there was a new warmth spreading over her shoulder. Astrid winced and lifted off of her shoulder- her writhing had been too much. "I think- I think I'm bleeding."

Hiccup's expression went unreadable. His jaw twitched. Then he smoothed a gentle hand over her stomach and nodded, tearing his gaze away. "Stay here. I'll get-"

"No-" She pushed up to her elbow and grabbed his forearm so hard she realized her nails would probably leave half-moons in his skin. She looked at him imploringly. "Please. We're not finished yet."

Astrid moved her hand from his arm to his neck, tracing the dark bruise she'd left there. Something fierce flashed in his eyes, and he reached up, curling his fingers around hers. He brought them to his lips. Then he settled back over her still-shaking form.

"Off your back," he whispered, gripping her waist on her good side and giving her a rough tug. Though her muscles were slow to respond, she was overwhelmingly happy to oblige. After twisting to her hands and knees, she felt him inspecting her shoulder, prodding at the bandages. Then his fingers trailed down her spine. The warmth of his body bore down on hers, and she wasn't sure if it was the fire of his arousal twitching against her thighs or the open-mouthed kiss he left between her shoulder blades that made her keen with want.

His arm wrapped around her waist, taking some of her weight off of her arms, and then she felt him guiding his length just past the place where she wanted him most. Hissing, he slid between her melting flesh until he was slick and wet and she was pressing back in an attempt to control the direction of his pressing hips. Imperative desire made her ache for him, hunger for him. There was sense of fulfillment she couldn't achieve without him, and she yearned for it more than she could remember ever wanting anything.

Astrid was ready to beg again, but then she felt him nudging at her entrance. Her words were choked back with a gasp of relief. It wasn't until later that she realized she never felt a whisper of nervousness. The affections he murmured into her back, the soft squeeze of his hand at her waist- they were right, just like the way he impaled her with slow tenderness was right. Her eyes fluttered closed. Her lungs worked to draw thin strands of air though her teeth.

For some reason, she had anticipated the friction. The tight discomfort as her muscles adjusted to his invasion. What she hadn't counted on was the fullness. He seemed to fit into her entire body, making her aware of the intricate workings of blood pulsing through her system, oxygen filling her chest, the natural cycles of womanhood that suddenly all at once made sense. The thoughts that had terrified her as a girl- being broken apart and filled with the life-giving possibility of a man's seed- it didn't scare her anymore. She craved it.

An impossible flurry of thoughts beat at the inside of her mind, ideas and revelations flashing so quickly that she was completely taken aback when Hiccup slowly began to withdraw. Inexplicable despair squeezed her heart like a fist.

"Hiccup, what-" She began to question his retreat. Her forehead crumpled in disappointment. Then she glanced over her shoulder just in time to catch the focused concentration in his expression- just before he surged his hips forward again.

Astrid cried out, mouth falling open with helpless pleasure. He placed another kiss at the base of her neck. Repetition became a hard master, the overwhelming slam of his blistering arousal followed by a quick escape replaying in the space of every breath. Her arms trembled against the drumming rhythm, her inner muscles working in an inherent cadence. With every thrust, she clenched around him. With every retreat, she whimpered and prepared for the next crash of his flesh against hers. Her hips pressed back against him, trying to meet his every blow.

At her ear, his groans were a cluttered combination of dragon language and human swears. Her name peppered each muttered promise against her skin- "My Astrid, my mate, ah- Hel and gods above, you're mine."

She tried to hold her own against the battering force of his lovemaking, but her body was still recovering. Her left arm gave out first, and then her right forced her to her elbows. Hiccup's hand tested the bandages at her shoulder, and then he tightened his grip around her waist. She was yanked up onto his lap, her back pressed against his chest. The change in angle speared him deeper into her tight heat. Her nails clawed at the arm barred at her ribs.

He mumbled his love for her against her bandages. Then she felt him gathering her hair aside, wrapping it around his hand. His rough thrusts became a gentle rocking, a maddening combination of friction and fullness that had her seeing stars. The slick warmth of his tongue slid against the nape of her neck.

He bit down there, with just barely more strength than was comfortable. The sharp cut of his teeth was a distracting pain, but it blended with the smooth pleasure of his cock throbbing inside her.

Hiccup's actions became less gentle. He growled, sucking at the patch of skin worked between his teeth. His fingers pulled at her hair and dug into her waist. He pushed into her without tenderness, without concern for her injury or exhaustion. It was the wildness in him- the animalistic ferality that she knew beat at the walls of his control, roaring and snarling for him to possess her in every sense of the word. Her soft whimpers became sharp yelps of discomfort and ecstasy. She wondered if his canines would draw blood.

Then he released her. Licked at the raw flesh and panted hot exhales into her neck. Letting her hair fall aside, his hand reached around her and blindly groped at the place where they were joined before fumbling for her clit.

She was shoved over the precipice of pleasure without warning, choking on his name as she rippled and fluttered around him. It wasn't perfect- his hand was trembling as hard as hers, and it was clumsy as she arched and bucked beneath the waves of her orgasm. But it was enough. She broke above him, her pieces scattering through time. She felt the initial lightning strike of sensation in her fingertips as she touched his palm for the first time, felt that electric bolt she'd run from when he'd held her close and licked her neck. It all focused into one cataclysmic, all-consuming crash.

"Astrid," Hiccup swallowed hard and pressed his forehead into her spine. "Astrid."

And then she knew he was following her into that abyss. His strokes faltered, staggered, and he crushed her close as he shivered and hissed and spilled inside her. She knew he was experiencing the same sort of soldering bond, the almost awful forging of their souls together. The sounds of their panting against the cave walls blended into one heavy echo.

And as he clutched her weary body against his, kissing her sweaty skin and making whispered oaths, she knew that what they'd just done could never be undone. Not by either of them, not by any man or dragon, and not by any of the gods in heaven or hel.