Hitchups

by The Antic Repartee

Hiccup didn't see the point in stopping Astrid as she ran off towards his village—towards his father—with his most desperately protected secret. He was leaving anyway. A coming-of-age tale. Deviates from movie. Borderline bromantic-comedy.

35. Changed

Changed

He was the same and different in so many ways. His features blurred in the gloaming—distorted by the sharp shadows of every crevice in his face, every wrinkle in his tunic. He looked like Hiccup. He looked like an adult Hiccup...just never the one she conjured within her mind.

Threat. Alert. Danger.

Astrid forced herself into instant, objective thinking. Now was not the time to record the details of Hiccup's appearance—they weren't crucial to her in this moment. Now was not the time to make comparisons and appraisals. They had all grown up, all changed. She'd seen it first hand in Fishlegs, Tuffnut and Snotlout, so why should Hiccup be any different?

What mattered was his presence. That he was there, standing on that rock and looking down at her as she looked down on him two years ago...

The overlapping situations ended there. Where she had jumped down and confronted him, he remained atop the rock, careful and unreadable, crouched on his perch and looking ready to spring away should she choose to chuck an axe at him.

Admittedly, attacking him listed as the furthest thing on her mind. Even if assaulting him wasn't professed as temporarily forbidden, Astrid couldn't seem to work up the rage necessary to attack a human being. She couldn't work up much of anything. Thoughts would start and stop, incomplete, impossible to grasp or act on.

So she simply watched him, squinting at an image darkened by a late sun.

"Astrid," he greeted softly. A pale and perfectly cordial salutation given their last moments together.

Gods, was that his voice? She had forgotten what he sounded like—only his face and the emotions it conveyed spoke to her in her memories. He blathered and mumbled. That's what she remembered of it.

"Hiccup," she forced from her throat, a fair bit terser but no less calm. She never took her eyes off him as she wretched her axe from the ground.

Her body jerked with the action, both her fists clenched—one around the axe handle, one at her side—but he didn't blink, didn't react as though she just threatened him.

He had some blades on him—what looked to be a curved sword and a dagger—and she could just make out the silhouette of a bow at his back—one that seemed to have an uncanny ability to catch every golden beam of the sunset. Whether he knew how to use any of these weapons or not had yet to be seen, but Astrid would take no chances.

They stared at each other a moment longer. Then Hiccup took a slow breath, as though bracing himself for a difficult lecture, and the compulsion to speak struck Astrid.

"I—"

"You took my axe." The words flared from her lips with whip-like severity, and Astrid found great satisfaction in the stunned silenced that followed.

Reality worked over her like the slow lather of a cloth. She faced the man whose actions and behavior bedeviled her mind over the last two years, yet all her temper wanted to focus on was the axe. The significance of her renewed possession over it hit her hard now that it was back in her hand—stolen and returned, but tainted. He could never fully return what he took. It wasn't the same anymore. A weapon was sacred to its wielder, lauded to lineage, and Hiccup went and ruined the strongest bond she ever had with her mother—Glüm the Plucky.

Hiccup appeared shocked for all but a breath. Then coldness crept into his eyes, like they could no longer reflect the burnt glow of the sun.

"You chased me from my home," he countered, and some of that neutrality he commanded so well earlier fell to an edge.

Astrid welcomed the loss of composure. Speaking aloud one of the many things that bothered her brought up some of that wrath and resentment she felt years ago. Standing in the same cove, in the same spot, only amplified these feelings. A grave injustice happened upon this grass—to whom was unclear in her mind, but the lingering, negative energy charged the very air they breathed. She wanted to react to it, embrace it, and she wanted to see him do the same. She wanted to see him as upset as she felt.

She took a step closer to the rock, intrepid of his ground leverage.

"You ran away!"

He ran away with a dragon after gaining the respect of their village. He slapped them all in the face and she needed to find out why. How could he look at her like she wronged him after all he did—after all he chose to do?

Hiccup leaned slightly back at her approach. She watched in shrewd awareness as he shook his head and inhaled deeply through his nose. He didn't like this—Astrid could read it in his body language. Good.

"It didn't have to be like this. I didn't have to be outlawed—" he began, but she had to cut him off there.

"I believe you wrote "self exiled" on your note, didn't you?"

Hiccup's jaw clenched at the reminder of that note; she saw the shadow in the hollow of his cheek jump. He stood, so abruptly that Astrid felt the grip on her axe tighten with no conscious cue.

"I needed time to figure things out," he told her. There was a sorrow, a strain, to his voice. Like he honesty wanted her to understand. "There was so much...and it happened so fast. I still needed a home!"

How could things have been different if he still had that connection to Berk? He wouldn't have gone so far. He could have monitored Berk, could have made changes earlier...ease this new vision of dragons more gently...

Hiccup bared a passion in his expression that Astrid was unprepared for, and the first wisps of guilt began to fester. She stamped them out, holding onto her arguments, refusing to play the bad guy to his choices. Her own righteous anger was no longer enough to fuel her belligerence, so Astrid thought of Stoick, of the defeat and grief that poisoned the rest of their village. She thought of the way Hiccup hurt the classmates that looked up to him—Fishlegs, especially.

She never saw it then, but thinking back on it Astrid realized the once excitable boy was heavily subdued in the weeks following Hiccup's departure. And the way he pushed himself now...like he felt he owed Hiccup something...

The guilt petered out.

"Home?" The word tasted sour on her tongue, having heard it first from his lips. "Is that the way you treat your home? You lied to us! You were a cheat! You didn't care about our village or supporting it or—or protecting it! You chose a dragon over your family!"

"That dragon is my family!" Hiccup snarled. Not a flicker of shame graced his features at his declaration.

Astrid took another step forward.

"You left! You left us!"

"I came back!" Hiccup snapped back, and while his decision to do so might have made all the difference to their village—to their future—Astrid couldn't quite let go of the past yet.

"Do you have any idea what you did to our village? To your father? You took away the faith other villages had in us. Our reputation—"

"Oh please." The sneer on Hiccup's face looked so out of place to her, but his tone of disdain sounded oddly fitting—like he'd used it before. "Don't even pretend I mattered that much to the village. If you hadn't run off to tell on me, how long do you think it would have taken anyone to realize I was missing? Hmm? A week? After a raid that didn't end with the destruction of something completely unrelated?"

He appeared stronger, confident in his anger. Astrid couldn't let him use a past reputation as an excuse.

"Not then! Not when everyone was looking at you." She internally winced at the accusing tone, an indication that some bitterness regarding Hiccup's breeze through dragon training lingered. "The way you did it was wrong."

His lip curled, evidently sharing in her frustration.

"Wrong for who? For what? Pride? Reputation? Do you have any idea what's going on behind this war?"

This rankled Astrid to an entirely different level. He would not—not—speak about the war as though he were more involved than they.

"I know I was here to fight it! I was here—you weren't—!"

"I'm here now! I'm going to finish it! Why do you think I risked—"

"That's what we've been trying to do with the nest hunts! Not once did we stop fighting—stop looking—until you—"

"Look where it got you!" Hiccup retorted. "You'd think after centuries of failing with such a tactic you'd try something else."

She ignored his derision.

"We were honorable in our opposition and open with our intentions—we were surviving the only way we knew how—"

"It wasn't working!" Hiccup loudly proclaimed over her. "Will you listen to me? It wasn't working. Why does it matter how something is done? It should just get done! People were dying for no reason. Someone had to try something new. All we needed was to try and communicate with them instead of—"

"That's my point!" Astrid retaliated. "There has to be something very wrong with you to try and befriend a dragon in the first place! It should have never happened! I don't care if it turned out for the best or if you are welcomed back into the village when this is all over—you committed an act of treason somewhere along the line and someone has to acknowledge that!"

Her throat hurt by the time she finished and it suddenly occurred to Astrid that they had been shouting for quite some time.

Hiccup threw up a hand, mockingly.

"Fine! You've acknowledged it. Well done. Yes, I committed treason to the Viking way and I'll freely admit it. But at least now we're seeing progress! We will see progress. So while you're at it, why don't you acknowledge that something new had to happen to see any in the first place?"

She snorted, refusing to do any such thing. "We saw progress on the other side, that's what we saw."

"That I had nothing to do with!" he snapped, eyes suddenly ablaze. "That was a coincidence! I've been nothing but truthful about the mechanics of this war."

"Then answer this!" Astrid barked, and she could feel the back of her neck heat with all the energy within her. "Did you really leave our village with the intent of finding out more about our war? Or is that just going to be your excuse to get back in our good graces?"

Hiccup's mouth opened, but nothing came out. Astrid could see the excitement and liveliness drain from his body as he struggled with an answer. The question caught him off guard, which meant she was finally asking the right ones. Her breath caught in her throat without her even realizing as she waited for his response.

"I left," Hiccup started, and the drop in his voice, the fall of his shoulders, told Astrid he would answer honestly. "I left because I didn't know what else to do...and I thought it would be better for everyone if I did. I was tired of the double life, and if it continued someone would get hurt—physically hurt. Killed even."

He licked his lips, possibly contemplating stopping there. But then, after an audible, shallow inhalation, he continued.

"I started to learn the truth about the war...the control, a long time ago. I chose to take my time coming back, because I didn't know...Astrid, I swear I had no idea that things would get worse. I thought Berk would continue as always, just without me to screw it up. I thought I had time—"

Maybe it was his candor, finally the first of the two to step back and admit some wrong, but something punctuated that ballooning friction between them.

"You didn't," Astrid sighed under her breath.

"No, I didn't." He looked troubled. He did feel guilt, she could see that, but it wasn't enough. Astrid mulishly wouldn't let this be enough. She wanted a punishment of some sort for him—for him not to be allowed in the village. Not after abandoning them.

"You left to protect yourself," she said sharply.

"I did."

"And to protect your dragon."

"Yes."

"You didn't do it to save us."

He looked her in the eye and agreed. "No. I didn't."

Astrid huffed. So much defiance showered down on her from that rock; so much pride that she thought to be tremendously undeserved. He freely admitted all this wrong, but he refused to appear regretful.

That's what she wanted. She wanted him to feel regret, not guilt.

Even under her dark stare, Hiccup would not grant her this. His hands went to his hips. He kept his chin up as he looked down on her.

"Judge me all you want, Astrid. Your approval no longer matters to me. Just know that the reasons I left and the reasons I came back are completely different."

Her lips pursed. Some of his words stung her, but Astrid felt more annoyed at how hollow he managed to make her anger feel. Like she was trying to hold onto an animosity he refused to take part in.

"Where's your dragon?" she asked in a churlish grunt.

Hiccup snapped his mouth shut, and for a moment Astrid thought he would refuse to answer her. Then he jerked his chin upward and, in a flat tone, delivered what may have been the most ominous words she'd ever heard:

"Right behind you."

She whirled; her weight converged on the ball of her foot. Instincts that kept her alive up until now kicked in, and Astrid had her axe up before she registered the size or proximity of the dark mass at her back. She saw the scales, the slit pupil constrict in those toxic eyes, and her muscles reacted. Her stomach had clenched, her shoulders taught as they swung the axe up in preparation of charging at the fabled Night Fury—

Something, power—pure, raw, ineffable power—struck the head of her suspended axe in the peak of its arc. Astrid could feel heat flare at the side of her face, feel it lick her arms and knuckles. She heard the scream of her old axe under crackling energy; the harsh pierce in her ear momentarily deafened her. Light exploded from the corner of her vision in a violent blast that shook metal, wood and bone.

The weapon dislodged from her hand with a ruthless jerk. Her shoulder wrenched back, her heart jumped, her knees buckled...it happened so quickly and so brutally that the shock of it all stunned Astrid's entire body. She stumbled backwards with the pull, gaining a broader vision in the process to help her dazed mind figure out what happened.

Hiccup was off the rock. He had a bow gripped by its riser and brandished it at her like one would a sword. She would have laughed at a sight if she could shake the feeling that she had just brushed with death.

Astrid could see it wasn't some trick of the light that made this bow glow amber. This bow emitted the very same energy she still felt burdening her right arm. She held the throbbing limb to her chest, trying to settle the tremors zapping every joint from the tips of her fingers to the nub of her elbow.

Hiccup jabbed the bow at her again, inexplicably confirming Astrid's suspicions that it caused this something. His brow hung low over his eyes, shadowing his face so much his features appeared indiscernible.

"If you touch him, I will kill you."

Astrid backpedalled several more steps, needing to get away from him—the bow—the dragon. She faltered over a hard, rocky patch of land and it snapped her out of her stupor.

"What...what is that—?"

There was a Night Fury! One part of her mind screamed. Look at the Night Fury! Pick up your axe! But the rest of her attention would not leave that glowing weapon. She thought it was the sun, at first...a weird metal, a weird time of day...that golden aura...but this thing was...this was...

"You are not to attack him," Hiccup continued in that low, careful voice. Not careful like he used to be as he sized her up. He spoke carefully in a menacing, promising way. He wanted her to understand how very bad it would be should she ever do so again.

She didn't like him speaking to her like that. She was terrified of that weapon and her arm hurt and she felt naked and in danger unarmed before a dragon, but Astrid would not abandon her dignity.

She was a Viking.

She took a deep breath—shaky, but steadying to her heart. Her posture straightened and her shoulders squared.

"What is that?" she repeated. If he wanted her word that she would not raise a weapon to a dragon, he would be sorely disappointed.

Astrid's eyes continually darted between the weapon and the dragon. The black beast had sat back on its haunches, towering at Hiccup's side but displaying no aggression.

Hiccup set his weight on one hip. "This is a bow."

Gods, he was being difficult now, and possibly all because she raised an axe to his pet.

"Why...how did it do that?" She tried again. "Where did you get that?"

The dragon moved and Astrid felt her heart stop. It only crooned, releasing a sad sound she'd never heard a dragon make, and nudged Hiccup in the shoulder with its head. Hiccup took his eyes off her to give the beast a soft smile. He lifted his free hand and rested it on the dragon's temple.

"Miklagard," he answered, shortly. He continued to make eye contact with the dragon, and Astrid felt strangely ignored. Then the single word registered.

"Miklagard?" She mumbled. That was so far. To sail there would take months, years... A distance of safety, years away from their war. That bastard. "So I guess you've had some grand adventures, while we're all stuck here, fighting—"

Hiccup scoffed like she just uttered an excuse for a poorly aimed throw. "You're not stuck. It's your decision to stay."

Astrid's rancor returned full force.

"Yeah, you're right. I decide to stay because this is my home and I don't find it quite as easy to just up and leave it while it's dying—"

She let out a short—though still embarrassing—squeak when he swung the end of the bow at her neck like a sword.

"Don't you dare," Hiccup hissed, taking a step closer to her—away from the dragon—and giving her no choice but to step back with it, "think there was anything easy about leaving my home."

They returned to the staring—this time on even footing, but with Hiccup having the advantage in arms.

"You still chose to run," Astrid breathed.

"So did you."

What?

She narrowed her eyes. "I stayed."

She stayed and fought and bled for her village. Hadn't they just covered that?

Hiccup lowered the bow and backed off slightly. One shoulder bobbed in a shrug.

"You ran from me."

And, apparently, this action made all the difference to him. Had she stayed, things would have been different—not necessarily better, but different. Astrid hated how she recognized this point almost as soon as he spoke it, because identifying with him was the first step to a reconciliation she wasn't ready for.

"You let me," she returned in a rushed breath. He had a Night Fury, he command over the beast. "Why did you let me go?"

Hiccup stared at her for a moment, and she knew the question caught him as off guard as it did herself.

"I thought about it," he said with his second bout of surprising honesty.

"Yeah?"

Hiccup shrugged again. "It wasn't worth trying to change a mind that couldn't be changed."

Astrid's eyes narrowed, her shoulders tightened. There was that word again: Change. Why couldn't she change? Who was he to decide this?

She raised her chin, tired of feeling attacked by him.

"Well, I guess that's what you get for over-thinking things." A lesson, she believed, that proved why Vikings always won confrontation. They knew how to press their advantage—something Hiccup never learned.

His frown deepened.

"Maybe I already considered you a lost cause. Maybe the reason this war has lasted as long as it has was because no one wanted to find a solution to it."

"No one—," The collar of her tunic felt hot against her neck and chest from the anger that simmered beneath her breast. "How dare you...after everything our parents, our ancestors, have done to keep us safe, you have the nerve..."

"It shouldn't have taken three hundred years for someone to try and get to know them." The calm manner in which Hiccup delivered his argument sounded jarring to her ears after all the yelling. The dragon had nudged its great head up under Hiccup's arm as he spoke, presenting such an open companionship between natural enemies that she felt sick.

Astrid shook her head and began taking backwards steps destined for the rock-stacked entrance.

"You should have never tried in the first place! What could possibly justify anyone ever trying to befriend a dragon?"

Hiccup pulled the loose hair back from his face, a derisive smile on his face.

"This is why I didn't even try to follow you—this was your problem. It always has been—"

Astrid reeled back, nearly struck speechless at his audacity. "My problem?"

"You don't think for yourself, Astrid!"

"Oh I think! I think you're a self-centered—"

"You don't question anything!"

"—traitorous jackass who—"

"You—you're mindless!"

"Mindless!" She screeched. "How—why—!"

The dragon had done nothing but silently regard them, it's head cocked as though it were listening to polite conversation. Astrid was willing to take that as good omen for attacking Hiccup and getting away with it.

"You have no respect!" she howled. "No loyalty! Not even to your own species!"

"This isn't a matter of loyalty. This is a matter of necessity."

"Necessity! Necessity justifies you tricking our village, breaking your dad's heart, allowing this war to—"

"I didn't allow for anything to happen!"

"You said you knew what the problem was but stayed away anyway! You allowed for every unnecessary death in our village!"

Hiccup took an aggressive step forward—and because he had been yelling, and scowling, and generally unpleasant, Astrid didn't find his aggression out-of-place anymore. She would have welcomed any physical attack from him, because words weren't getting them anywhere.

It was the dragon's tail positioned over his stomach that kept a physical confrontation from happening. Hiccup looked down at the thick, black end in bemusement. He followed the appendage to the eyes of its owner, and then blinked as though coming back into himself.

Astrid could almost see the wave of calm sweep over the man and she swiftly realized they would never see eye-to-eye. They wouldn't fight, and that's how she settled things. They wouldn't reason this out, and that's how he settled things. He thought she couldn't change; she would not twist to follow any justification for his actions. They would argue until the sun fell to darkness and that dragon would melt into the shadows, leaving her at an even greater disadvantage. She had to get out of there.

"Whatever," she threw out scathingly, returning Hiccup's attention to her once more. "Do what you have to and save the village—if you even can. I'm out of here."

This time, Astrid didn't run out of the cove. She strode purposefully; her only hurry was to escape their presence for her own mental well-being.

She made sure not to look back because, this time, she didn't want to see what expression he wore for her.

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Cracks and crunches filled the darkening forest as booted feet beat down the brittle castoffs once more. Astrid stomped back to her village much in the same manner she left it—agitated, disjointed...

Her arm still stung. Not like a bee-sting would, but like something had shaken the very bone of it hard enough to leave lingering tremors in its wake. She gripped her forearm in irritation as she tromped over the very same path she used to get to the cove.

She—he—it was all so infuriating! She still felt stuck. They would go around in that circle until the Ragnarök; they would never figure out that day in the cove—who was right, who was wrong. He refused see her point, he wouldn't fully commit to his mistakes. He had a plethora of excuses at his disposal, each more twisted than the next.

And she sure as Hel would not stoop to conceding his side—it made no sense! Not for a Viking. Not even for a human.

Her arm throbbed along with her ire, and her clutch around it tightened.

He was unbelievable. His gall. His rationale. This was the second time he had attacked her to protect that devil...

And what was that thing he hit her with? She hadn't seen its power directly, but she sure as Hel felt it. She knew that bow caused the explosion, but she didn't know how he got his hands on it. Where would someone have to go to get something like that? Something that powerful? No blacksmith of Miklagard—Midgard even—could have forged it.

No blacksmith of Midgard would have given it to him. Surely someone a bit more competent, a bit more sane, such as a chief or a guard—even herself—would be more suited for—

"Oh—damn it!" Astrid screamed to the heavens.

She left her axe. Again.

Her feet slowed to a stop as she contemplated a return. The blow her pride would take concerned her more than any threat the dragon posed, and that sort of irrationality vexed her the most.

A line of stark shadow wiped across the land and tree trunks as something passed overhead. Disturbed from her indecision, Astrid snapped her head up in time to see a sable mass glide to the ground in front of her—sideways, so that she got a good measure of the Night Fury's length as it blocked her path home.

The young shieldmaiden had to take a moment and absorb the sight of Hiccup on a dragon because, for the first time, Astrid felt like she viewed the complete picture. His clothing, his hair, the arm braces to match the scales, the belt equipped with weapons and hooks for securing him in flight...it all fit now that he was outfitted into the saddle, feet in the stirrups. Suddenly, she couldn't recognize him as Berk's outlaw. Not when he looked like he came from another culture all together, a man never meant to be a Viking.

She stepped back, her hand falling to the sword at her side. It was a short sword, carried out of habit rather than necessity, but it was better than nothing.

"What are you doing?" she asked with a low and cautious threat to her voice. She had the impression that he couldn't kill her just as she couldn't kill him, that some sort of truce had been implemented at this time.

But did it apply to the Night Fury?

The dragon's eyes lured her in, and Astrid had no choice but to meet it. They trapped her into a staring match so concentrated it blotted out her surroundings. With the environment quickly dimming, its hide became more and more indiscernible. The eyes popped out at her—not with threat or anger, but with pure, comprehensible irritation. She imagined her own face held a similar expression for much of the evening.

"As soon as I heard, I came straight up," Hiccup informed her. He stared at her with a sort of intensity that willed her to acknowledge the sincerity and desperation in his voice. An intensity equal to the one his dragon forced on her. She felt overwhelmed. Overwhelmed and confused as to why he was here.

Astrid could only stare right back, nonplussed.

"What?"

"As soon as I heard about the increase in attacks, I came back up. Even though I didn't feel prepared, I came." He bit his lip, and for someone who arrived rather imposing, he appeared unnerved. "I'm still not prepared. Not really."

When Astrid continued to regard him appraisingly, he went on. "I never wanted anything to happen to the village. I just hated my life here. I was so happy with Toothless—honestly happy—that I thought it was ultimately better for everyone. You guys liked fighting dragons...I didn't want anything to change by leaving. I just thought I'd disappear, and everything would go on as it was..."

"Everything changed anyway," Astrid uttered. Her voice sounded so quiet to her own ears that she wondered if the words ever reached him.

Hiccup was not a malicious person; she remembered this now. It seemed the longer she spent in his presence, the more she remembered of him. He never intended to hurt anyone when he unthinkingly ran off to do Loki's work. Often it was just the opposite, but he always seemed to manage it anyhow. He was a disaster. He was an incompetent, bumbling fool who usually got in way over his head. He was unable to display any Viking prowess no matter how hard he tried. He was an assuming idiot.

All far more forgivable failings than a betrayer determined to destroy a village from the inside out, but still highly irksome considering all he put her through.

"Yeah," Hiccup agreed, rubbing his arm. "That's why I'm here. I originally planned to come back and save the dragons from the demon. Now I know I have to save both."

The dragon made an unmistakable throat clearing, a noise so human that Astrid found herself staring at the beast long after Hiccup corrected his statement to "we have to save both".

In fact, it wasn't until Hiccup reached his hand out to her, palm up in an open gesture of welcome, did she return her attention to him.

She stared at it. "What?"

"Come on." Even his tone sounded inviting. Soft and humble—more like the Hiccup of her childhood. The dragon pawed the ground, snorting with impatience.

Astrid took a step back—toward the cove and toward the axe.

"Oh no."

Unlike the beast, Hiccup was patient. His hand never lowered.

"I need to show you what I should have showed you years ago. You need to understand." The dim lighting added something soft to his features, but she would not budge. His demeanor turned to insistence. "This opportunity will only come once in your life. He doesn't usually let anyone else ride him."

"I am not getting on that dragon," Astrid said with finality. She took another step backwards. Perhaps she could make a run for the cove, grab her axe and...steer clear of that bow.

"Running away again?"

The curl of his lips held the barest hints of complacency. She couldn't believe his nerve. It stung her considering who, exactly, accused her of "running away". Her shoulders squared at his words and her mouth opened with the intent of really laying into him.

"You're the one who—"

"I came after you this time," he cut her off, stalwart. "What are you going to do different?"

Astrid couldn't respond at first. She simply didn't know what to say to that. It sort of held true—he did come after her...she had called him out on it just moments ago. She didn't know if her dignity would suffer under accepting or rejecting the offer. Moral issues wrestled with the sheer concept of riding a dragon.

She didn't want to prove him right—not about her and Change, because she could change.

But should she?

"I'm giving you a choice," Hiccup went on. "I'm not going to force you to fly or anything...but I could really use your help in winning this war."

He sounded like he was backing off; he let up on the aggression first, he admitted his mistakes to a degree. Both were clear signs of submission. So why did she still feel provoked? Maybe it was the way he spoke, like he couldn't quite lose that patronization from the holds of his throat.

Hiccup made eye contact with every encounter between them, including this one. He challenged her. He never did that before. Snotlout never took anything seriously before. Fishlegs never took charge. Ruffnut never felt flattered by attention.

She was tired of this. She didn't want to stay in the same place anymore, take the same actions.

Her knees buckled forward in two steps, but something stopped her from advancing farther. Maybe her pride—change could mean admitting she was wrong in some sense—but more likely the dragon. It hadn't moved, hadn't acted like any dragon she'd ever encountered before, but that didn't mean it was any different. Could she really sit on its back? Behind an outlaw?

"Please Astrid," Hiccup implored in a quiet voice. He stared straight at her, and not with mistrust or anger, but with an appeal of sorts. "I need your help—yours—to win this war."

She regarded him a moment longer. He had not lied to her yet—not today. She was needed in this war; she wanted to make a difference, even if it was he who needed her.

She knew he was right about some things, though she'd die before she'd say it out loud. They needed to change tactics; they needed to take action within a desperate situation. She knew the game had changed, and Berk would have to as well if they wanted to survive.

Maybe it was time to step out of her comfort zone.

Astrid took the last steps to the dragon—a dragon much larger than she thought it'd be now that she stood next to it. The saddle harnessed to the thick neck and shoulders hovered over the level of her head.

She bypassed Hiccup's offered hand—it was really the only action that would help soothe her conscience for hopping on a saddled dragon—and hoisted herself onto the beast with a soft grunt. Hiccup allowed it, the dragon allowed it. Neither moved as she settled herself on the very end of the leather seating, perhaps hoping not to scare her off. This felt sacrilegious and she could only be thankful for the sinking sun and densely wooded area to cloak this grave slight.

Hiccup turned his face so she could discern his profile amidst the heavy shadows cast by the trees. It occurred to Astrid how very close they were. The saddle wasn't made for two, so her hips were forced to hug his backside lest she end up sitting directly on the dragon.

His eye sought hers—the color completely indistinguishable at this point in the evening.

"Thank you," he said with a quiet honesty that made it hard to meet his sideways gaze.

She pretended to adjust her tunic over her legs.

"Whatever," she mumbled. "Just show me what you need to show me so I can get home."

She couldn't—wouldn't—let on how absolutely terrified she felt in that moment. This was bad—wrong. Wrong like it was wrong to sneak out with her grandfather's battle shield after it was declared off limits.

Except, this was far worse. She didn't know what she was doing. Had she just done something completely stupid in the face of a challenge? A light panic settled in her stomach when she realized she had no control—the width of a dragon's back felt strange to her legs, relying on someone else's power, positioned at a man's back...it all felt unnatural. Unnatural was unfamiliar. Unfamiliar was dangerous.

Before she could think about hopping off and returning to the safety of natural ground, her ride shifted lower. A sense of tension filled both the bodies that she touched.

"You should hang on," Hiccup warned. His voice dipped along with his torso.

"Hold on to whaaaAAAHHH!" Her question ended in a scream that the Isle of the Skullions would hear as the dragon took off in a diagonal launch. Astrid's hands immediately shot forward to latch onto the body before her as the trio twisted and weaved between trees. Her rigid posture contrasted with the synced sways of the boy and dragon moving with the flight pattern.

"W-where are we going?" she hissed. She wanted off.

She could feel Hiccup's ribs jiggle in silent laughter, the bastard.

"Up!"

They broke free from the shadows of the forest and suddenly the world had lightened a little.

Astrid didn't want cling so tightly to him, but the trees continued to fall farther and farther away until not even the highest branch of the tallest pine would catch a desperate jump.

Odin's lost eye—she was flying. Astrid could hardly hear anything but the roar of wind, could hardly feel anything but the stinging cold and the body she hugged and the absolute, terrifying dependence on the beast she road on. This was her only anchor she had; a dragon and its boy were the only thing standing between her and certain death.

Gods... A dragon...and this man...were the only things keeping her alive now. She was entirely dependent on them.

Astrid couldn't breathe. Not enough air could fill her lungs and yet too much crushed her.

Oh gods, oh gods, why did she get on that dragon? Why? What was she thinking? This wasn't worth proving anything. She was going to die. She had no control. She was at their mercy, out of her element. This wouldn't, couldn't, end well.

"You're fine."

With her cheek pressed against a blade of his shoulder, Astrid felt the strong vibrations of Hiccup's chest cavity resonate with his reassurance. She didn't want his reassurance; she didn't want to heed the warmth of his back, the rumble of his voice. She wanted to block all of this out until she returned to land. She hated, hated, feeling this sort of terror. Warriors shouldn't feel like this. Warriors could control their destiny and, to a certain extent, their death.

She couldn't control anything right now.

"Can we go down now?" Her voice wavered slightly with the request and she prayed to Thor that Hiccup couldn't detect it.

"No."

Astrid bit her lip.

"Hiccup this isn't funny. I don't—wait...why are we going higher? Stop! Hiccup—Hiccup, stop!"

He ignored her.

"Close your eyes, and hold onto me."

Her eyes were riveted on the colors of Midgard; greens and browns blended together as more and more details escaped her capture.

"I will not close my eyes and I am holding onto you." Astrid didn't think she could close her eyes if she tried. The horror of her situation riveted her gaze downward; she stared into Hel's cold, hollow eyes.

"Hold onto me like a normal person and not like you're trying to stab me with your fingers."

She squeezed him rather hard if the stiff pain in her rigid digits was anything to go by. Slightly embarrassed, Astrid forcibly tried to relax her grip.

"Why are you doing this?" she moaned.

"You're focusing on the wrong thing," Hiccup coaxed. "Stop looking down. Stop looking for the danger—"

Had she a little more peace of mind, Astrid may have sensed the sympathy he offered her.

"I don't have to look," she hissed to the back of his ear. "It's everywhere—we're hundreds of rôst in the air—"

"Hardly," Hiccup intoned.

"If we fall—"

"I've fallen before." His voice was flat, and he showed no inclination to elaborate. "It couldn't stop me from getting back up here...because the danger will never measure up to—to this. I mean...just look at this...Gods, Astrid, we're humans who are flying! Why can't you see this? Why can't you see the amazing—"

"You'll be an amazing, dead human if you ignore the dangers! I like being alive, thank you!"

Hiccup bowed his head for a moment. His lapse of silence only brought to attention the sheer, deafening howls of a gale icy with the promise of death. She gripped him tighter.

Then he spoke in a soft voice still strong enough to reach her.

"You're alive Astrid. I'm not so sure you're living."

Something stopped her from responding to that. She wasn't sure if she had a response to begin with.

"Close your eyes," Hiccup commanded again.

There was something unearthly calming about his voice, about the entire energy around him. She could feel it spread from him into the dragon, into her.

Off guard, Astrid allowed her eyes to close.

The ground below disappeared, the black hide of the dragon disappeared. She continued to feel the sting of the wind, the cold and moist air, hear the wails of the heavens...

She felt Hiccup against her stomach, within her arms, and her sense of height and danger did diminish. He smelt like the air, but the warmth of his body balanced out the cold at her back. He was an anchor in rocky waters, a security that she unconsciously held tighter as she lost her sense of surroundings.

Astrid's stomach rolled amidst all these sensations, but try as she might she couldn't pin it down on nausea or disgust. She hardly registered the dragon beneath her anymore. She floated, weightless, and the pounding of her heart, the daring in her blood, enlivened her in a way she hadn't felt since her first kill.

For the first time since she could remember, Astrid allowed herself to just feel. She felt the war slip away, her mother's death, the expectations, the responsibilities, the guilt, the loss, the aggravation...all of it threaded from her body, thinning like her braid as strand after strand of hair escaped to brush her cheeks and tickle her lips.

Gods, she was tired of control. There was nothing she could do; Hiccup controlled one fin, the dragon controlled the other.

"Okay," she felt Hiccup say. "Open your eyes."

Her eyes opened.

Orange. Pink. White. Astrid had never seen color like this, warmth so bright she wondered if she'd ever known what color was to begin with. Swaddled in soft hues, isolated by the clouds. No ground or trees or mountains tantalized her with the safety of land. No endless fall through space threatened her.

She hadn't realized she gasped until a prickling frost invaded her throat. It didn't bother her anymore—the cold. The horror had receded, and in its place wonder she didn't want to feel thawed her reserve.

The reality of this moment had to be called into question, because Astrid couldn't imagine ever feeling so young again, so free. She was in the clouds—clouds so thick she couldn't find the world. She couldn't stay grounded.

She left Midgard. She left it when she never thought she'd leave the Barbaric Archipelagos.

One hand lifted from Hiccup's side and reached towards the uncatchable mist. She expected softness, some substance, but her hand went right through it, with only the gentle touch of ice to grasp back at her fingers. She could have been holding Skadi's hand for all she knew.

The clouds broke and Astrid saw ocean. More ocean than she ever thought catchable in one eyeful, and sparkling as brightly as the sky under the final crest of the ripe sun.

The unexpected change of scenery shocked her into deeper respiration. She began to blink around, trying to readjust to so much exposure. How much time had passed? She felt like she'd been on that dragon for a lifetime when all she felt was fear, but in those few fleeting moments of breathlessness and beauty she noticed nothing.

They banked to the right. Astrid tore her eyes from the closing sunset as they circled the Isle of Berk.

She must have gasped again when they passed over her village, because Hiccup glanced over his shoulder. She missed the smile he sent her way in her fascination.

"That's—!"

Her home. Her house! That was her house! It was amazing considering the poor lighting and the sheer, diminutive size of their village, but Astrid could pick it out among the other droplet-like structures. The boats of the harbor looked more like toys than travel vessels. Bridges measured no longer than her pinky finger. Little lights bobbed around the branching paths—people with torches.

Everything seemed so...small, so beneath her. There was a feeling of superiority that resonated within the awe of where she was. And she was flying over her village. By Freyja, she was doing the impossible, things she didn't dare dream about as a child.

Who else could do this? Had been here? How many others had seen a sun set from the sky itself, or inhaled a storm cloud, or saw war vessels as little more than floating piles of wood...because that's what they looked like to her, right now.

Astrid was no stranger to confidence or strength. Never before had she felt invincible.

Warm fingers slid over one of her hands resting on Hiccup's stomach. Her first instinct was to jerk it away, but something about that energy he exuded—so calm and assuring—had her accepting the heat of his palm to her skin.

"We are capable of so much." He spoke faintly, but his voice carried with the wind, reaching her ears like a whisper meant only for her. "Humans and dragons, together."

Do you understand now?

She didn't feel cold any longer, and it made no sense because they flew into a cold night. That stubborn anger fled her body with her woes, left to the clouds' mercy. She felt neutral. Open.

"This what you discovered," she murmured.

"This is why I left," he said. "This is what I needed to protect."

The fingers she felt ghosting over her skin gathered her hand up and gently relocated it to the side of the dragon's neck. Astrid allowed it, leaning forward to caress the scales of a Night Fury using her own power.

They were warm, alive. Astrid could feel the expansion of its cage as it breathed; she felt every few heartbeats align with the pulses of its wings.

His wings.

Exhausted and enlivened, Astrid rested her cheek back on Hiccup's shoulder, finding it easier to keep stroking the dragon, and sighed into the cloth of his vest.

"So it's true...the mind control thing? They're not really...?"

Hiccup stared resolutely at the village they circled. The sun had left the sky, but there was still a lightness to the world to present his hard face.

"They hate it. Imagine losing your free will."

Astrid tried to. She tried because, for the first time in her life, she felt inclined to try new things. She imagined it felt like she did when Hiccup first took off—confused, helpless, and regretful. Watching from the inside, trapped, and having no control over her fate.

"They need to be saved as much as we do," Hiccup explained. The dragon rumbled; she felt the noise bubble within its armor, beneath her hand. It felt sad.

"We all need to be saved," she whispered. Something broke inside her with those words—something of before that kept her on her strict regimen, on her religious following of the Viking code. This was bigger than Vikings, that's what Hiccup had been trying to tell her. This required flexibility, a redirection of her passion to protect. She was still needed, and she needed to be needed—that was the only thing she felt sure of herself.

"You think you're going to do this by yourself?" He couldn't possibly expect to accomplish such a thing.

Toothless barked.

"I meant the both of you," Astrid automatically corrected, and then a moment thereafter wondered why she did so.

Hiccup twisted a little more in his seat, the hand resting on hers slid further down her fingers. The smile he gave her wasn't condescending or mean like every other she had seen upon his lips that day. He looked coy. Hopeful.

"I want to show you something," he said.

########

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Hiccup barely had two feet on the ground when the schwing of sharp wings assaulted his ears. His face brightened at sight of his welcome party—two gargantuan dragons, sharp-toothed and doe-eyed.

He managed to get out a quick "Hey guys!" before the intrusive noses huffed along his chest and cheeks. The Nightmare pressed its snout to Hiccup's stomach, its nostrils flaring, scenting the unfamiliar hands that rested there moments ago. Hiccup smiled and patted the side of its face, allowing for it to satisfy its curiosity.

"Okay, okay," he laughed. The Timberjack knocked the small of Hiccup's back with a rough shove. He could hear it inhale what would be the strongest of Astrid's lingering fragrance. "Whoa, whoa, easy guys! Hey," he said again softly. He twisted and wiggled until his fingers could scratch a chin each, trying to distract them enough to keep them from Astrid. "Take it easy."

::Calm down!:: Toothless snapped behind him. ::This female is nervous enough as is::

"Toothless," Hiccup automatically warned at his usual testy behavior towards the rescues. The rest of the Night Fury's warning registered, and he recalled why he wanted to intercept the two dragons in the first place.

He whipped his head around to where Astrid stuck close to Toothless. Her skin stood out as pale, and she stared, tightlipped, at the horrifying dimensions of the dragons draped all over Hiccup.

Astrid was not ready for such a bold approach. Her face had set like she was prepared to attack at the slightest provocation. Hiccup had made too much progress with her to set her back now.

::Their enthusiasm is unnecessary:: Toothless sniffed.

Hiccup gave his friend a cheeky grin, even as he shoved the Nightmare's head and fetid breath from his face.

"Your jealousy is cute."

"What?" Astrid risked a quick glance at Hiccup for her question before she went back to sizing up the dragons.

"Eh, not you." Hiccup quickly retracted. It just occurred to him that he might have to monitor himself when speaking to Toothless in front of humans. Usually he would not bother, but he didn't want to push his luck with the Vikings considering how lucky he had been so far.

Now both his hands shoved away the insistent heads as Hiccup tried to fashion his body as a weak barrier between Astrid and the dragons.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Ah, yeah," she said slowly. Her gaze remained steadfast on the Nightmare especially. He could only imagine her past experience with them. He took it as a good sign that she hadn't made any aggressive moves when taking into account the fact that he put her back on ground in the presence of more dragons.

"You sure?"

This time she looked at him and repeated with more confidence, "Yeah."

She managed to sound rather convincing, but she had yet to step away from Toothless. Paradoxical, considering she refused to approach him not so long ago.

"Where are we?"

Hiccup narrowed his eyes in thought. "The mazy Multitudes, I think."

With a start, Hiccup realized that he had to squint to read Astrid's expression. The night had crept up on them faster than he thought possible. Twilight had passed.

"It's too dark," he murmured, and he turned back to the Nightmare to place a hand on either side of its oversized jaw. "Hey big guy, Can you light a fire?"

The burgundy dragon gave a long, low purr. Hiccup laughed, and rubbed the crease of its nose with affection. "Thanks."

Astrid watched in morbid fascination as Hiccup embraced the oversized jaw of the dragon. Its mouth. This man was crazy.

The Nightmare pulled from Hiccup's caress and sidled away with a dragging tail.

"Is it actually going to...to light a fire?"

"Yeah," Hiccup grinned, turning to catch the Timberjack around the mouth next. It had taken to nuzzling Hiccup's shoulder with its sharp brow, seeking equal affection to its companion. "I showed them how we stack logs to keep one going, but they never seem to manage it right."

He said this all while staring the Timberjack in its circular eyes. He scratched under its jaw and smoothed his palms along the curved horns with gentle, firm strokes.

Astrid thought it amazing how at ease he seemed surrounded by all these dragons. They greeted him as she would greet her father after a long voyage.

The Timberjack suddenly poked its head over Hiccup's shoulder, with a neck that extended far beyond what she read about. It regarded her using bright, yellow eyes that soused her in a similar hypnotic affect to the Night Fury's.

"Is that a..."

"Timberjack, yeah. Here," Hiccup reached up and began to guide the Timberjack under the chin while extending a hand out to her, "they love those human fingers—"

Astrid, about to say no, jerked back when the Timberjack pressed its snout forward, beyond Hiccup's lead and straight toward her chest. She felt her hip bump into the Night Fury's hindquarters.

"Easy," Hiccup warned the olive-colored beast with a low, commanding voice.

::The female is not like him:: Toothless informed the other using sharp tones. ::She's timid and jumpy. She won't—wait, what? ...I don't care if you think she smells nice!:: Hiccup snorted. ::Let her approach you, you bent-tailed—::

The Timberjack curled a lip and started to growl.

"Guys..." Hiccup droned, already having had to intervene on one too many fights between the pair. The rather mild-mannered Nightmare easily avoided confrontation, but the Timberjack and Night Fury seemed to bear some innate distaste for one another.

"What—?" Astrid started to ask, but the sudden flash and noise of a flame jettison alarmed an audible gasp from her lips. The immediate area was suddenly alight with the lingering flame of a Nightmare upon a shoddy pile of sticks.

Hiccup winced at her sharp reaction, though he couldn't blame her in the slightest. The Timberjack looked more menacing than before; the sharp edges of its wings now gleamed as brightly as any man-made battle blade, the distinct, spindly structure of it's backbone and pinions arched demonically.

"You don't have to be scared," he urged her with a palm caressing the side of the dragon's neck. "He's good. He's a nice dragon—"

"I'm not scared," Astrid threw in quickly. Perhaps it was his thoughtless words, but she suddenly appeared more inclined to approach the overly curious Timberjack. She cautioned forward with hesitant fingers to slowly reach toward the snout.

Hiccup could feel the eagerness and anxiety in the Timberjack's neck. It wanted to meet her halfway, desperate to get to know this interesting, new human.

"Let her come to you," he murmured into part of its head where he believed its ears to be.

Astrid's unblinking stare switched between he and the dragon with every step to the Timberjack, giving Hiccup the impression that she felt equally wary towards both of them. She never seemed to make any progress and yet she was there before she knew it, an outsider to her own body as she watched her outstretched hand close the distance to those glinting scales. The tips of her fingers brushed the ridge of the Timberjack's nose and for all of Astrid's bluster, she could not hide the tremble of them.

Astrid released a harsh breath between her teeth when her skin made contact with the tightly packed scales. Hiccup's whispers to the dragon drifted into the background. She was prepared to snap her hand back to her chest should it bare a single fang towards her.

It sniffed with exaggerated nostril flares; she could feel the alternating hot air and cool pulls as it scented her. The eyes were large and strangely circular, with pupils so wide they appeared round themselves.

On the whole, its face was, dare she say, cute.

Unlike the Night Fury's smooth and angular head, the Timberjack's narrow skull was lined with fine ridges all along its brow and bottom jaw. Astrid began to smooth her palm up and down the long nose bridge.

She felt the vibrations before the sound registered to her.

"It's...is it...?"

"They purr, yeah." Hiccup stroked the Timberjack along the underside of its neck with lazy, familiar motions, and on his face was the biggest grin Astrid had seen yet. She didn't know if it was the endearing cat-like behavior of the beast, or the fact that she willingly chose to touch a dragon at his discretion, but Hiccup's mood only became more and more agreeable.

Astrid frowned, unsettled by how the night had gone so far, and even more so by the behavior of these dragons. This was...this was nothing like she ever thought possible. She almost wanted to get angry at this beast for acting like a common house pet.

She'd killed these. They'd killed her people. And now she pet one. It was a live, feeling, sentient being, with scales just as warm as the blood she'd spilled. It looked at her with an intelligence she refused to acknowledge in the past; it looked at her like the only difference between them was their skin.

"Are they all this...friendly?"

Hiccup laughed. The smile had hardly left his face since they arrived on the small island.

"Not at all," He assured her. "They're just as diverse as people are. Some are friendly, some are not. It took a while to get Toothless to trust me."

::With good reason:: Toothless mentioned using carefully chosen words.

"Yeah," Hiccup mumbled. The smile slipped from his face as the cold and sudden remembrance of Toothless' limited options came to mind.

Toothless moved from behind Astrid and bumped his head against the young man's vested chest.

::No regrets here::

"Thanks, bud."

The impression of Astrid's stare told him he had lost sense of his surroundings, again.

"Ah, erm..." Hiccup cleared his throat. "Yeah, it took a bit of work to get where we are now... But these guys were freed from the control," he swept a hand from the Timberjack to the Nightmare, who had curled up by the fire, "and that's given them a reason to trust me. I've worked with them enough to warm them to humans. They know I'd never bring anyone that would hurt them."

Astrid cocked an eyebrow. "What makes you think I wouldn't hurt them?"

She continued her delicate stroke of the Timberjack's nose. So far, the dragon surprised Hiccup by not pressing Astrid for a more aggressive show of affection. Perhaps he could pick up her anxiety without needing Toothless to point it out to him.

Hiccup shrugged one shoulder. He reached out and caressed a patch of loosening scales on the Timberjacks' neck. "Because you're relatively reasonable. I mean, if I can't get through to you, I don't think there's much hope for Berk."

This wasn't entirely accurate. Astrid was one of the many he thought would fight any change the hardest. Alongside his father.

"Do you really think you'll manage it?" Astrid asked, willing to drop their niceties for a more frank subject.

Hiccup regarded the fires for a moment.

"Getting Berk to help? Probably."

"No, I mean saving us."

He pulled his gaze away from the dragon, a little startled by the direction she just pulled them in.

"Oh, well, er, not alone..." Hiccup finally articulated. His eyes flicked to Astrid and then to the attentions of his hand on the Timberjack. A moment of indecisiveness passed before he pressed on. "I've seen it. ...the demon. I really have no idea how to do this...this whole 'saving Berk thing'. I need help."

He felt like he said it twenty times that night, but he continued to hope he would get a more positive response if he continued.

"Talk to Fish. I'm sure the two of you could figure something out."

He appeared entirely surprised. "Fishlegs?"

Astrid nodded. "He's the one who started backing you up with evidence Berk would believe. He's probably the reason you were allowed to meet with the chief in the first place."

Hiccup's head turned back to the fire, this time with a tiny smile to alight his features.

"I'll have to thank him."

The warmth and pull of the Nightmare's fire attracted him too greatly to stay in the dark corners of a chilling night. He jerked his head toward the heat. "Come on."

Astrid stared mutely at him for a moment, as though not understanding his request. She looked at him, then at the fire encircled by a haphazard barrier of rocks, and an entirely different message than what Hiccup aimed for stuck her.

Already, she realized, she had spent too much time in his company—. She could feel her mind shutting down, starting with getting on the back of a Night Fury and hitting the skids from there. Allowing herself to pet a Timberjack was nearly too much. She needed time to process this—she didn't like feeling so off-kilter that she'd go along with any request; she liked having a set of ideals and sticking to them.

"I should get home..." It was more than feeling pressured to accept too much, too fast. It just occurred to Astrid what people might think if they last saw her disappearing into the forest right when the chief set out to meet with Hiccup.

"Just for a couple drinks," the young nomad called, already moving towards a previously unrealized pile of belongings near the fire circle.

Astrid felt her tongue thrash for words as he bent over to root through a canvas pack.

"Drinks...?"

The Timberjack moved unexpectedly, curling around her and nudging at her shoulder with the crest of its head. She instinctively jumped away with a loud gasp, closer to Hiccup. She only just caught herself from drawing her short sword.

"What-what's it doing?"

"He wants you to get over here." Hiccup stood from his rooting, a large waterskin in hand. "Relax, the moon's only just shown up."

Astrid pursed her lips, hating the perceived coercion.

Though she did stiffly shuffle towards the fire, making sure to keep one eye on the Timberjack, she had to deliver a withering, "Don't tell me to relax."

Really, she should be awarded for how patient she had been that night.

"Sorry," Hiccup mechanically responded, only managing to sound half-apologetic. He pulled the stopper, leaned back, and took in a mouthful of some mysterious liquid. When he pulled it away, Astrid caught a shine to his lips before he licked it off. The waterskin was held out to her in her final steps to his side.

"What is it?" Astrid questioned in a flat voice. She made no move to take it.

"Gooseberry Ale from Circinn," Hiccup said. He pushed the drink closer to Astrid until she finally accepted the pouch.

She had never heard of such a town, and she had only been exposed to Berk's home mead or imports from visiting ships, but the challenge was there in his face.

Keeping her eyes on the presenter, Astrid gently tilted the rawhide mouthpiece to her lips and allowed the first sip of drink to trickle onto her tongue.

It tasted...rather good. Certainly stronger than her usual drink; not as sweet as mead but bearing a fruity twang to it.

The first question tumbled from her lips before she finished processing the savor.

"You can afford this?"

Hiccup laughed and lowered himself to kneel in front of the fire. Astrid felt her own knees fold alongside of his, though she hadn't given them permission to do so.

"Why does everyone think I'm living in poverty?" His voice was teasing, which lay to rest any chance of him taking offense. He scratched his neck. "I probably could, I've made a good amount of money doing odd jobs. Though this I had taken—mind you, it was stolen by bandits—so, really, I'm not the guilty party here. I'm sure whoever made this would have much rather we drink it than the people who likely killed them."

And Astrid was hooked.

Maybe it was the darkness, the peculiar company of creatures that wouldn't spill her secrets, or maybe it was because Hiccup had such a strange mix of foreigner and familiarity, but Astrid felt like she could be completely open in her feelings—her curiosity, her envy, her longing...all could be released. A little bit more of that pinch to her temples let out as one less thing to control tumbled from her care.

Now she faced the problem of figuring out where to start.

"What sort of jobs?" she asked. Instead of returning the waterskin, she helped herself to another draft.

Hiccup betrayed his shock with the slackening of his face.

"Ah, erm, well, some blacksmithing, obviously. I had some retrieval jobs when people learned how fast I could travel or how stealthy I could be. Living with a dragon and being stationary for too long got risky, and people don't trust too easy as it is out there. Sometimes it made more sense to just take stuff, especially in the woods were not very many...civil people lived."

She did nothing to hide her surprise. "You stole a lot of stuff?"

With a flat face, Hiccup pulled the flask back to himself, meeting some resistance.

"I stole only stolen stuff," he asserted. "Anything else I left compensation for."

Astrid smiled. Unprepared, Hiccup felt himself lean back on his heels when she bared her teeth at him without threat or anger. The grinning woman took advantage of his brief lapse in composure by dragging the waterskin back to her side.

"What's it like on the road?" She asked with all the eagerness of a child on the eve of Jul. "I can't believe you survived out there..."

Then Hiccup smiled back at her.

"It's great. I mean, there are certain regional rules you need to learn and abide by, but once you figure out when not to make eye contact, or how to communicate without giving away you're a foreigner, you start to enjoy doing what you want. You learn so much about the world just by encountering people who are different than you; it really helps put into perspective how diverse the world is. As for survival...it's kind of a sink or swim situation there. I know Vikings are really 'brawn over brains' around here...but for everywhere else? Knowing how to use your words can often be even more effective than weapons—that's what I learned, anyway."

Hiccup paused then, a little bewildered by how much he just blurted out, at how easy he found speaking of his travels naught three sips into his ale supply. At how Astrid listened with genuine interest, no longer interrupting—not even when he mentioned the Vikings.

"Also, it helps that I have a Night Fury watching my back," he added as an afterthought.

The dragon snorted and gave an exaggerated eye-roll even Astrid could follow.

::I imagine its like having hatchlings::

Hiccup gave Toothless a rough rub on the top of his head.

"You love me."

::I tolerate you for the scratches. A little to the left, please::

"You can understand him," Astrid stated with abrupt comprehension. Her eyes appeared lucid in the firelight and, as opposed to earlier when Hiccup thought he'd never get through that barrier of brainwashing and tradition, now he felt she saw him too clearly.

"Ah...yeah," he slowly answered, afraid this ease he had just gotten her to fall into would vanish at the confirmation.

Amazingly, Astrid nodded.

"You've probably been through a lot together," she observed with more sympathy than he'd ever guess she possessed. Seeming to pick up on his shock, Astrid went on, "Sometimes Lout and I can convey messages across a battlefield without anything being need said. And, I suppose, to a lesser extent, the twins and me. We usually work in the same unit..." her voice trailed, words slowing as she worried over how to convey a message that never had to be verbalized before. "Sometimes...when you're put under stress with the same people..."

"...you create a bond beyond words," Hiccup finished softly.

Astrid's face lightened, pleasantly surprised to find he knew precisely what she spoke of.

"Yes."

Hiccup returned to stroking Toothless' brow—favoring the left side of it—with his own crinkled in worry. To create such a strong, silent understanding between individuals...that was a bond, alright. He couldn't remember which, if he even know that much about bonds to begin with, but he did know that what Astrid spoke of was a bond borne from a unified front against dragons.

"That's...it's not going to be easy getting them to see dragons as anything but an enemy," he murmured.

The Timberjack warbled low in its throat from its curl near the fire. Astrid only jumped at the sound, no longer edging away. Instead, she stole another sip from the waterskin as though using the drink as a crutch and a distraction for an otherwise uncomfortable situation. Despite the somber subject, Hiccup had to crack an amused grin because he had no idea she enjoyed the drink so much. He shouldn't have been surprised; for as long as she participated in raids, Astrid probably drank afterwards just as often. She was a true Viking now.

"It's been brutal," the girl agreed. "But if you introduce dragons and flying, like you did to me, they..."

She trailed off when Hiccup began shaking his head.

"I can't give everyone a ride," he said. "Not the way I did with you, anyway. That took far too much convincing to make a habit of it."

Toothless rested his head on his front paws with a long, croaking groan. ::Too right. She weighed far more than what you implied she would. Nothing like the fairy female::

Astrid cocked her head, oblivious to Toothless' comments.

"How so?"

::And I expect every herring, haddock and cod you promised me::

Hiccup started pushing on Toothless' head, trying to get him to shut up as he grimaced in thought.

"Let's just say he doesn't like being treated like a horse—"

::...three fish for every stone she weighed. There shall be compensation for the kicking and screaming, of course::

Hiccup's free hand rubbed the back of his neck.

"A general meeting with the Vikings and him... Maybe have you vouch for him...that's what will have to happen. People can discover flight on their own."

Astrid hissed and winced, clearly not liking the idea.

"That sounds a little risky," she commented.

"Well I did it, so I'm sure it's not impossible for others to do it either. Sure they'll fall a few times, and finding harmony with any being—even another human—takes work and compromise—"

::—and they better be fresh, because—::

Hiccup's patience for the little voice heckling him from the side cracked.

"Shhh!"

Toothless' tail whipped up to smack Hiccup across the head before the rider even realized he had shushed his own dragon.

"Ow! What—?"

::Don't you silence me, you lun-a-tic!::

"I'm speaking to someone else, you—just—stop—!" Hiccup began batting the tail away that came sweeping in for a second hit.

Toothless bared his teeth. ::Just because she can't understand me, doesn't mean you can ignore me—::

"You'll get your fish—will you relax? I'm busy—!"

A soft snort returned the boys' attention to their third member. Astrid had leaned forward to rest a hand on her palm, elbow on her knee, and that's when Hiccup realized she had moved into a cross-legged position sometime in the warming of the conversation. She watched them with relaxed amusement; the flask held in her other hand and poised for action.

"Well, he's no horse, that's for sure," she remarked wryly. She paused to take a longer drink, already comfortable with the new ale. Her lips smacked. "He seems awfully full of himself."

Toothless pulled his tail away from Hiccup so that he could arrange himself regally. ::I have every right to be::

Hiccup continued rubbing the slight smart in his head, his face rueful.

"Yes, well, most dragons are very prideful, stubborn, powerful..." His gaze drifted to meet Astrid's with the firelight heating the right side of his face.

The woman smiled back at him, amusement jumping in her eyes with every licking flame reflected back at him.

"Sounds familiar."

There was something so teasing, so comforting, about the way she said it that Hiccup wondered if this was the girl her battle-brothers knew, if the taste of alcohol and a warm fire drew Astrid into a familiar enough setting to let loose.

Unfortunate...her rigid personality was one of the things he counted on using to keep his wits about him.

Hiccup cleared his throat and shrugged using the same lightness directed at him.

"Could just be the region."

She nodded, grin widening. "Us northern breeds."

"Most stereotypes for the south are completely right, you know," Hiccup tossed out conversationally. He leaned forward and returned the waterskin to his possession. "Wimps."

He watched her eyebrow arch, somehow predicting the action. Hiccup Haddock just called someone a wimp.

"Oh really?"

"Mmm," Hiccup bobbed his head through his swallow. "They were even scared of me when they found out I was a Northman. Me. And that was without Toothless standing right behind me."

"You are kind of scary looking," Astrid granted him, likely not even realizing what she just acknowledged. "That bow..." Something read as off as she drank in his appearance. The harness, the dagger in his belt... "Where's your bow?"

The abrupt change of subject startled Hiccup for but a moment; "I left it in the cove."

Astrid sat up straighter. Her eyes cleared from their comfortable fog.

That sounded sinful to her.

She stared at him like he was mad. "A bow like that? Aren't you afraid someone's going to take it?"

Hiccup laughed deeply. She could see his stomach bounce beneath his tunic.

"No. She's very testy about touching."

"She?"

"Framherja."

Astrid didn't know why it shocked her so much that he named the bow. Her mother named her axe before she bequeathed it to her. As per tradition, she was meant to learn the name on her wedding day.

That would never happen now.

Astrid quickly and forcibly turned her thoughts away from that subject; she was tired of feeling angry. She felt good now, relaxed. She decided before she even settled by the fire that she liked this lighthearted feeling. It wasn't something she could entertain everyday, but it felt healthy in small doses.

"Pretty," she pitched, cinching out the slight strangle in her tenor. "How did you come up with that?"

"I didn't."

Her eyebrows rose for the umpteenth time that evening.

"Did a woman name it?"

"No," Hiccup said, finding it a strange question. "She came with the name."

Astrid felt a wave of annoyance wash over her at his difficulty in giving her a straight answer.

"You're not going to tell me how you got it?"

"Mm, maybe one day. In the far, far future. Provided we ever make it to that point." And before she could ask, Hiccup sternly emphasized, "It is mine. Meant for me. Not stolen."

She sighed.

"Well, did you meet anyone? While you were out there?"

Why she asked that, she did not know. The name intrigued her—everything about the weapon did, and the fact that he would not answer her outright was suspect.

Astrid watched a slow smile work its way across Hiccup' face.

"Sure," he said, simply. "Out there is full of anyones."

By Thor, had he always been this evasive? She had no memories to answer that for her; she hadn't actually had many conversations with him.

"You know what I mean."

He did, but he couldn't bring himself to answer.

"I guess," he said. His eyes darted to Toothless, who had rested his head on the ground in the pretense of sleeping. A single, green eye had cracked open to watch him.

"Did the dragon ruin your game?"

Hiccup returned his focus to Astrid, flat faced. "The dragon gave me game."

Then Hiccup thought about what he unthinkingly said and realized Merciful Gods, he did.

For a moment, Astrid couldn't say anything for all Hiccup just implied.

"Ruffnut's getting married," she announced, with another sudden topic change. The expression on her face told Hiccup that she hadn't expected the words to pop from her mouth the way they did.

Hiccup's shock at the content of the announcement commanded his mind for the length of a single, slow blink. Then his attention moved to other implications.

"Not you?"

"Hah! No."

Astrid grabbed the gooseberry ale from him, and Hiccup felt so bothered by her empty smile that he relinquished it without any playful resistance. "It's kind of sad really."

"That no one's asked?"

It sounded...impossible to Hiccup. More impossible than ever sharing drinks around a fire with Astrid Hofferson. More impossible that he would ever break through her bluster to find a girl who clearly needed an out.

She gave a dry chuckle and took a long swill of ale.

"No. It's what happens when they do." She fell back on her elbow, rather dramatically, stretched out like a cat. "I'm cursed!"

Hiccup didn't know if he was allowed to smile or not. Sad as her claim was, he had difficulty taking it seriously.

"Cursed, huh?"

"Mmm." She rubbed a hand over her eyes. "Anyone who asks...bam. Dead. Usually within a month's time." She sat up straight again for another sip. She wiped the sticky liquid left in the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. "At first it was kind of relieving, you know? Sad, of course, for the families, but I was off the hook." She waved her hand. "Then it got annoying. Insulting, actually. In the beginning I...I didn't want to be left behind. Everyone—all the girls of my age were being arranged—I mean, Ruff's getting married before me—and I know it's horrible to be so annoyed by it, but soon I'll be one of those old crones that kids whisper about...

"Not that I looking forward to the whole marriage thing—there's no one I really want either—but it was just expected, you know? I mean, what would people say if Astrid Hofferson never married? Everything seems to balance on my reputation and I-I don't know if I hate it or love it anymore."

She didn't know why she spoke so frankly. She couldn't seem to stop. It felt good.

Astrid stared at the mouthpiece of the flask they shared, wet and sticky and shining in the firelight, and sighed.

"I would have such...such beautiful children!" she moaned. "I don't even think I want them, but they'd be strong—the greatest little Vikings ever—I have all the right breeding behind me. I have the strength to carry child and battle until the last couple months—"

Hiccup listened to the blonde warrior with lifted eyebrows as she spoke more words in one sitting than he ever heard from her in his entire life on Berk. Occasionally he would share a bewildered glance with Toothless.

He coughed when she paused to take a breath. "Do you...do you want to get married?"

"Do I—?" She stopped short. Her fingertips came to touch the arch of her cheek where her skin felt hot. "Well, its not so much a matter of want, is it? I mean...I'm supposed to. I... It's just proper. Do you know the shame I'd face? Well, maybe not shame, but, surely, people would be disappointed..."

Hiccup continued to stare at her, probably waiting for a more satisfactory answer that Astrid couldn't quite form into words.

Soon enough, she groaned, "Ugh, I don't know...I don't know what I'm doing, or what I want—"

She blinked at the sudden admission. Why was she saying this? Astrid glanced down at the waterskin and gave it a few light shakes. It felt half empty.

"That doesn't sound like you," Hiccup mentioned.

Annoyed with her momentary lapse of control, more so with the way Hiccup now looked at her as though he had expected someone different sitting next to him, Astrid scowled. "You don't even know me."

The outlaw looked away for a moment, his focus moved to the crumbling silhouettes of logs behind a curtain of flame.

"Guess I don't, huh?"

He never had. He only dreamed of how he thought the iconic Viking should be—self-assured, levelheaded, open-minded, fair...

In a flight's time, Hiccup found a depth to Astrid Hofferson all his years of dreaming could never reach. Here was a girl his mind had no control in molding, and she came as flawed and imperfect as every other human roaming Midgard.

"I'm sorry," he found himself blurting out.

She didn't ask for what—if for his presumptions, his scaring her on the flight, or for making her feel inadequate during the last two years.

She couldn't bring herself to say 'sorry' back; she wouldn't be sorry for any of her actions for the same reasons he wouldn't be sorry for his.

Astrid looked at the flask held lose in her hand. She thought of how odd it was that Hiccup turned out to be such a casual drinker, that he figured out his own way of twisting arms and using force to get people to agree with him. She reckoned he'd do all right sitting at a table of rowdy post-battle Vikings provided he kept the stories coming and the ale turning.

Then it suddenly struck Astrid how pro-active Hiccup grew to be compared to the boy she thought would forever hide in a blacksmith's shop. He did come back.

"Turns out, no one really knew you," she returned.

"No one wanted to know me," Hiccup pointed out. "For the best, probably. They were right to say I'd never be a Viking."

He loved his life; he'd never regret his choices. Following Toothless, helping Toothless... He was stronger than people realized and he felt more alive and awake than he thought he would ever experience so why did it still bother him to mention that?

Unthinkingly, Hiccup returned the ale to his possession, because his tongue thirsted for it and the discomfort of his reception on Berk demanded medicine.

He tipped the drink to his mouth, hyperaware of Astrid's eyes on him. Damn, he couldn't even taste it anymore.

"Is that why you..." Astrid began, but then decided to change directions. Squinting at the fire, she asked, "Why didn't you just kill him?"

She didn't need to elaborate on who "him" was. Not when her eyes darted to Toothless. The black dragon merely flicked an ear in her direction, acting as though he couldn't understand the question.

Hiccup swallowed with a noncommittal grunt.

"At that point in my life? I had nothing left to lose."

Toothless' body heat warmed his back and hip, acting as a comfort and soother.

"What was wrong with your life?" asked Astrid, blankly.

Hiccup couldn't stop the derisive laugh that followed. It bubbled up from his chest like the hollow remnants of his childhood acrimony looking for an escape, an outlet, whenever the opportunity arose.

"You don't remember a damn thing about me, do you?"

"You used to have a crush on me," Astrid reminded him, calmly.

He wasn't surprised she knew of that; it was probably the only real thing she remembered about him. How he made a fool of himself over her.

"A lot of guys did," he pointed out, just as evenly.

"And now most of them are dead."

"You're real torn up about that, aren't you?" Great, now he felt annoyed at her for not giving him the time of day...or any other guy for that matter. He could tell now, having talked to her on even footing, that, while Astrid was focused on fighting, she also simply wasn't interested. She wasn't going to waste her time on letting someone down. She'd continue to let them make fools of themselves until they got the hint. She couldn't be bothered with any of it if it didn't directly appeal to her.

He held her in such esteem back then that he refused to see it as anything other than perfect focus.

She pursed her lips at his snarky response.

"I told you, it got old. I felt bad at first—a little for myself, but mostly for them. It just kept happening and happening until people thought it was a death wish to so much as speak to my father."

Astrid had that look about her—like she was thinking of going for the waterskin again—so Hiccup hugged held it a little closer to his chest. She'd become more and more open as she drank, but there was a very good chance she had a violent streak stashed away in there somewhere that one sip too many would unleash.

Gods, he made such amazing progress with her. He desperately wished for nothing to set them back.

"Maybe everything happens for a reason." He aimed for a neutrality to squash out the negative energy starting to kick up.

The stare she gave him was unreadable, to say the least.

"Maybe none of them were a suitable husband for me?" She suggested, and her voice, coupled with that look, had Hiccup blushing.

"No—that's not what I—"

"Or maybe I was only meant to be just a warrior?"

"Um..."

Hiccup missed when the Timberjack moved; once curled a ways from the fire, it now peacefully rested behind Astrid—not quite touching, but close enough so that a simple stretch of its neck would bring its head within her reach.

"Maybe I shouldn't have run," Astrid murmured. Her voice was a tad detached, like one would sound halfway into a daydream. Her eyes flicked to the flask, but Hiccup would not rise to the bait.

"You're here now...and you're handling this awfully well. I thought you'd be the hardest to convince."

"Maybe I was waiting for it all along," Astrid said. She continued to be breathy in her short, vague responses. She could almost put a name to that feeling now, that unloading of stress and responsibility, which started with her arms around Hiccup's waist and her cheek against his back. The softness of clouds slipping between her fingers and lifted sensation in her stomach from seeing her entire life on Berk miniaturized and thrown into perspective. The purr of a dragon that looked at her with kind eyes. That lack of control, not replaced with degradation or helplessness like she'd always expected.

That feeling of knowing she could rely on someone to be strong with her...it kind of felt like hope.

Hiccup gave Astrid half a grin, and took another short sip of gooseberry ale. "Think you know what you want now?"

Her nod came first. Then the words.

"I just want to help our village."

She said it knowing it to be the first time she ever had to verbalize the objective. Everyone before had assumed it.

"Is that all you want?" Hiccup asked, and the sheer focus he pushed on her, the intensity in which he watched for an answer, had Astrid staring at him for a moment.

The firelight danced in her wide eyes, flecks of orange contrasted so starkly with the blue of her irises that Hiccup could pick out a dozen colors in between. The highlights of her hair teased him just as they did when he was a boy.

A budding confidence sucked away, leaving Hiccup so precariously empty inside he had to look away from her.

For the first time since the cove he didn't see Astrid as the Viking who drove him out from his home. He saw her as the crush he used to dream about.

He quickly pulled the flask to his lips, using the tang as a distraction.

She was different from the girl of his fantasies, of course. Older. Harder. He could see some scars on her shoulders, her neck, and knew more existed below her clothes. She showed them off proudly. Everything about her was proud. She had grown well, with more defined muscles in her arms and a broader flesh to her body that many Vikings worked on to survive the winters. She was a survivor too, but, unlike him, she looked the part. Astrid didn't look like she needed a Night Fury to watch her back.

::You've gotta be kidding me::

Hiccup coughed a bit, jerking the waterskin from his mouth. He stared down at the dragon.

"What?"

::You have a taste for the sun-haired ones, don't you? Is that it?::

"What?"

"What's he saying?"

Hiccup's head swiveled back to Astrid and he desperately wished for the night air to cool his cheeks.

"Nothing!" he yelped. He took a fast, deep breath and repeated, more calmly. "Nothing. He's just being..." he glared at the dragon, "Toothless."

Toothless, eyes still closed, smiled without teeth.

Hiccup rolled his eyes at the insolence, but Astrid's short giggle had him in a much calmer position. He settled back to rest his weight on his palms.

"What I meant was: what are you willing to do to help Berk?"

Astrid shifted her chin forward a midge, rolling the question over in her mind.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked.

"The only way we can win this war is if we address the problem. The real problem."

She leaned forward. Business was a comfortable subject for her.

"How?"

"How do you like that Timberjack?"

Astrid blinked. She twisted in her seat, eyeing the slumbering beast. Its neck was stretched and turned at a weird angle, taking up unnecessary floor room the way a teenager would stretch out across an entire bed.

"For something so sharp, he's awfully...cuddly."

Hiccup sipped at the ale, nodding, and then offered it to Astrid.

"I knocked him out of the control," he stated when his mouth cleared. "Either Timberjacks typically have a sweet disposition or just this one, but his personality has emerged a little more every day since I freed him."

::He's a brat::

"Ah, he...is young..." Hiccup translated, shooting an unsure look at Toothless, missed by the Night Fury in his sleeping position. "Anyway, step one would be dwindling down on the army. As in, knocking them out of the demon's range. I'll need more riders for that to be effective. I'm hoping to get some volunteers willing to learn how to ride a dragon, and then when everyone sees how awesome it is, they'll be willing to jump in as well. The more we knock out, the less damaging their raids will be."

Astrid looked at the Timberjack again; Hiccup could see the intrigue and reserve battle on her features.

"And how do you know the dragons won't turn on us as soon as we free them?"

"It is a possibility," he conceded, not sharing her face of concern. "They'll certainly attack while still under control. There's really no telling how they'll behave out of it. Maybe I've just been lucky with the three I have, but it's definitely worth the chance. Wouldn't you want someone to risk your wrath if it meant regaining your freedom again?"

The answer was so obvious Astrid didn't bother replying. She peered into the mouthpiece of the waterskin, maybe so she didn't have to look at anything but the blackness.

"I'll work with you," Hiccup promised her. "You'll be able to evade any rage-filled dragons. The closer you get to a dragon, the more he'll want to protect you, and vice versa. Some day you'll be able to read the body-language of that Timberjack so well you'll make a greater pair together than you ever were separately."

Astrid regarded him with her lingering misgivings.

"How do you know the Timberjack will even let me ride him?"

"He chose you."

"How do you know I want to ride him?"

"You chose him."

"How do you know?" She didn't dispute him. She honestly wanted an answer.

"I'm a dragon rider," Hiccup responded with a wide, wide smile. "I can just tell."

Astrid tried to keep up her impatience with his evasion but she found it hard in the face of such boyishness. It wasn't so annoying this time, not when applied to something as serious as a war. Ironically enough, when someone spoke of war and tactics lightly, she received the impression that they were simply confident—and, to an extent, competent—enough to relax the issue. Hiccup may not have been around for the war in the last couple of years, but he seemed to really understand the dragons in a way unseen before.

"And how do we deal with the demon?"

Hiccup started to frown. It was a question he continued to struggle with. "Well...I have some theories, but I think its best if we take that up with the rest of Berk once we've lain everything out on the table. At least with the army-lopping we can make things easier for Berk and those raids."

"Yeah, they've g-go—," Astrid yawned, "—tten pretty brutal.

The hour came to Hiccup's attention like a cold awakening.

"You need to get back," he announced, craning his neck back to see the moon had already peaked in the sky. Where had all the time gone?

Astrid didn't argue, but she didn't jump to her feet either. She slowly pushed herself up, dusting her leggings off while Hiccup shook Toothless' shoulder.

"Come on, buddy," Hiccup pressed. The dragon may have weighed as much as a small ship for all the damage Hiccup managed. Toothless released a long groan.

::I was actually starting to fall asleep there:: he complained, giving a tongue curling yawn that put Astrid's to shame.

"Sorry bud, but we got quite a night a head of us."

::I know, I know. I was just so bored::

Toothless managed to stand, placing one paw to the ground at the time and heaving his body upward. Hiccup rose with the movement as though he were another wing.

"Where are you staying?" she asked, blinking some of the oncoming drowsiness from her eyes. "With your dad?"

Hiccup glanced up from tightening a strap on Toothless' harness.

"Hmmm?" Her suggestion seemed so outlandish that it took him a while for it to register. "Oh, no. I'll be in the village tomorrow morning, though. I have some things to do."

Astrid nodded; her sudden weariness pushed from her mind the fact that he did not answer her first question. A rush from the alcohol heated her head with her shift in elevation. The new taste was addicting, the power of it unknown. She had an inkling that she wouldn't be at her best come tomorrow.

"Come on."

She blinked again, finding Hiccup back on the saddle. He belonged there, she realized—the warmth in her head filled the rest of her body with the speed of running water and the thickness of molasses—he belonged on a dragon.

This time, she didn't hesitate to take Hiccup's hand as he hoisted her onto the saddle.

Something about that bow, about that dragon, about him...

Maybe it was because he brought her closer to Asgard than she ever dreamed possible, or because he could understand dragons like no human could, or maybe it was the gooseberry ale, but with her arms wrapped around him, Astrid felt something otherworldly in her grasp. She felt like she was holding onto a greater destiny. She wanted to feel that again, and again, and again, because it felt like an answer. The answer to every insecurity that haunted her before this night.

It felt like freedom, possibly the same sort of freedom lying just beyond the reach of all those nest-bound dragons. Maybe they even knew it was there, but never reached for it because they deemed it unattainable. Like it hurt less to ignore.

She stole one last look at the pair of dragons snoozing in the dying fire. The Timberjack appeared dead to the world, so deep in its slumber it probably would not register her absence until the sun arose.

"Ready?"

Hiccup and Toothless both did that shifting thing she recalled as necessary before taking off, and she prepared to be airborne once more. She hugged him tighter, so warm, so at peace with the world, that the beating of his heart against her wrist hadn't registered as anything but soothing.

"Ready," she whispered into the cloth of his shirt.

Wind and senselessness and vertigo surrounded her in the next moment. She didn't cower. She didn't tuck her head. She turned her face to the sky and allowed the chill of the night to battle her heated blood. Her chin rested on Hiccup's shoulder, and her eyelids fluttered shut to the soft strokes of his hair on her cheeks.

This man in her hold...by Freyja, this man was going to change their world. And she planned on being right in the middle of it.

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A/N: I know I said I would stop posting drunk after chapter 29...oh Maine.

I won't tell you how many words this was...or how many pages...I just couldn't seem to bring myself to break it up. There's a lot that needs to happen for Hiccup and Astrid to get along. They need to hash things out in their own way—Astrid more physically, Hiccup verbally. It's been my downtime to write this, and I've enjoyed it a lot, and it all just kind of flowed out as naturally as possible for me. I'm sorry if readers found it too jarring (their interactions, or Astrid's transition) but I can't apologize for how I've had these characters develop. Feel free to PM me, message me on DA, or leave an old fashioned review giving your heart-felt beliefs on their characters.

I will admit, when I write, I'm usually physically exhausted, mentally exhausted, or a couple glasses of wine into winding down after a hectic day. Basically, I will apologize for the glaring errors this may be filled with. Or the senselessness of it.

So, I did give the world a warning on my Deviantart account about the long wait between chapters since I'm gone for the summer, but I had FORGOTTEN to tell my ffnet buddies! Now I feel like an ass. I SO SORRY!

Basically, I'm running a kitchen. Time to myself is sadly lacking. And people just demand my attention because I'm awesome. And crazy. But mostly awesome in the sense that I can double-griddle like a fiend.

Thank you all for your patience. Go and read up on the details of my summer in my DA journal. In a nutshell- updates will be at least a couple weeks in between, and that's simply because I only get a couple hours on my computer a day...and internet maybe once a week...until mid August.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and I hope you enjoy your summer! Tell me what you think of this version of the Romantic Flight. Does it hold any parallel to the movie's? More in depth? Not in depth enough? Too LONG? I lauufff uuuu 3