AN: Due to a couple of requests, and people following this oneshot, I've ended up writing an aftermath. Many thanks to the reviewers, I appreciate your feedback. So here is how I would personally envision Astrid to react - would love to hear what you guys think.
AFTERMATH
The flame wakes her. From her chest it burns, burns like nothing she's ever felt in her life. It taunts her, goading her back to heavy sleep.
She knows she must fight it, for whatever reason – that she is somehow alive, kicking and flailing at the two blurry figures subduing her, screaming over the ghastly wails coming from behind them.
But the pain is too much; it is execrable, nauseating.
Astrid yaks, and the world spins to black.
She opens her eyes and desperately shuts them again. She writhes and twists and thrashes, but the fire only aggravates.
More blurred figures surround her, pinning her efforts to make it all stop, yelling unintelligible words as her screams and the wails echo like a chorus of tortured fiddles around the cavern.
Darkness swallows them.
Her body is numbing. The fire is dying. And the wails – the wails are louder.
They belong to a creature – a dragon. A Nightmare. It is in agony.
None of what Astrid is hearing is making any sense, and her perception of it all dims intermittently as she flits in and out of consciousness. Where is Snotlout? He had been there just moments ago. With this distressed dragon tearing around, he might be hurt.
"She's awake!" a husky voice cries out.
"Stormfly, no!" yells another, female.
"Someone keep Stormfly back!"
Her Nadder… she's okay… Thank Thor… (From what, Astrid isn't quite certain.)
The voices are all familiar, but they're not the one she is straining to hear. "Snotlout?" she croaks. "Where… where is he?"
A pair of hands cups her face, "Astrid, can you hear me?"
She licks her dry lips. "Where is Snotlout?"
"Astrid," Hiccup looms over her, filling her vision with wild, russet hair. "Astrid, look at me."
"Hiccup…" Oh gods, Hiccup! Astrid struggles to sit up, even though her body doesn't appear to be working. "Snotlout– he's hurt… I have to find him, I have to–"
"For Thor's sake, Astrid, don't move!" Hiccup forcefully pushes her back down (though it doesn't require much effort). He squeezes her hand, "You need to stay still. Please. You need to stay with us."
It is then that Astrid catches the stench of torrefied flesh and vomit. She disobeys Hiccup, expending all her strength in a feeble twist, and the fire wakes again, the world whirling viciously as she yaks once more on the snow.
"She's losing consciousness, Hiccup!"
"No," Hiccup's palm trails shakily across her jawline. "No, no, no, Astrid, you need to hold on – you need to stay awake!"
She attempts to squeeze his hand back but finds her fingers benumbed. The spinning is too much, her eyelids are heavy.
Hiccup's grip tightens. "Astrid, stay with us!"
She tries. She tries very hard.
But she can't. He fades away.
She can't count the people around her. She can't even make them out. They feel like demons, pulling at her clothes and her body and speaking in low, unintelligible voices Astrid isn't meant to hear. But she could care less about all that.
"Hiccup… Where's Hiccup?"
Gentle fingers wrap over hers and she meets a pair of consoling emerald eyes. "I'm right here."
She tries to sit again but her body refuses, "And Snotlout?"
Hiccup looks at her as if unsure what to say. Slowly, the world around him unblurs; the icy blades on the ceiling are gone, and Astrid's eyes meet wood in their place. The room is familiar. It is her room – at the Edge, in her hut. The fuzzy mountain to her left is Fishlegs, and Tuff and Ruff are there too. But…
"Snotlout. Where is he?" she demands, unnerved to find their expressions anxious and sorrowful.
Everyone is watching Hiccup, whose jade orbs hold the truth the shieldmaiden doesn't want to see. "Astrid…"
No.
Astrid stares at him, wide-eyed.
No, it can't be…
"You know, for a moment there I was sure you were a Valkyrie."
"We're not dead yet, you muttonhead."
He can't be, he's not – she won't believe it. He's messing with her in typical Snotlout-fashion. Waiting to pull some dumb, ridiculous prank to get a reaction, and tease her for worrying about him, for thinking him hurt. To make her fume when the tears dissolve upon realization.
Shamelessly, they begin to cascade.
"You're crying for me, then?"
It's a joke – a sick, twisted joke. She'll be resisting the urge to send him to Valhalla for worrying her like this.
"So long as you don't follow me there."
"No." Astrid shakes her head as the world starts to spin again.
He hasn't left, not like that; Snotlout is a warrior – a pig-headed, reckless, foolhardy warrior. It would take more than a crumbling mountainside to bring him down.
"I know I'm not him, but some extra muscle can't be the worst disappointment in a cavern of ice."
Glory and valor, wasn't it? The stuff he'd boasted being made of since they were kids? Well he'd stolen her chance to prove hers.
He owes her, dammit. He owes her; the chance to best him, to save him in return. So he can't leave, not until she's had her fair shot.
"No, no, no, he's not– he hasn't." It's too unfair, too… selfish.
"Just promise me you'll stay alive, and take care of Hookfang."
"He hasn't!"
He's too damn selfish!
To pull the self-sacrificing act that she was supposed to make; to shield her body while his body broke; to hold her like everything was going to be alright while he lay bleeding to death!
"Promise… promise me…"
The tears are now streaming down her cheeks. Strong arms wrap around her but her shaking body fights them, repelling their comfort.
Her chest explodes in agony once again as Astrid lurches forward, gulping back vomit with a hefty sob. And as the room distorts in a violent twist, the warmth of Snotlout's last embrace breaks through, surrounding her in lankier, leaner arms.
"Hiccup," she manages to choke against the pain, seizing his tunic in an iron grasp and burying her face in his chest.
"I know I'm not… him… but…"
"Don't go."
The bed shifts beneath her as the spinning escalates, and Astrid squeezes her eyes shut, her grip tightening as she feels a weight sink down beside her – Hiccup's leg brushing against hers, Hiccup's arms pulling her close.
"Don't go," she repeats between sobs, "Don't l-leave me, don't go."
"I've got you, Astrid," he replies firmly, encircling her with the same vigor as the man who'd died holding her like that. "I'm not going anywhere."
He can't. She won't let him, not him.
"Wow, Astrid… You do love me after all."
"H-Hiccup…"
She awakens in a warm embrace, firm but gentle, and for a moment Astrid believes she is back in the cavern with Snotlout beneath her.
Snotlout holding her, Snotlout protecting her. Snotlout alive.
Though even before the fuzzy darkness lifts, she knows it isn't him.
She knows the piney, forgey scent like Stormfly can track a waft in a mile of forest – the scent that is home.
She knows the feel of the arms around her – strong and safe, and tender. So, so tender.
She knows every shade of forest that can stare for eternity into her seas; the wild locks that beckon for her fingers to explore; the constellation of freckles dancing around that adorable scar, beneath the ravishing lips she so desperately longs to taste.
Her gaze meets Hiccup's in the early morning light – or late evening, could be – and it conveys every emotion they've ever shared with a thousand more.
"Hey," he whispers with sheer reverence.
"Hey," Astrid croaks, not sure whether she wants to rejoice or cry. But before her mind can settle a reaction, her body decides to cringe at the soreness consuming it.
"Easy now," Hiccup hugs her ever gently, hands massaging soft circles on her back. She groans with a shudder. "Is… is this okay?"
They are in her bed, Astrid hazily recalls – Hiccup propped at the headboard with both arms supporting her as she half sits half lays on her side. Her armor is removed and her clothes are fresh, clean but for the odd spatter of blood matching that on the sheets. Ruff's handiwork, probably.
Though the binds on her torso are far too delicate for the Thorston's doing. Too sore for the blush to bother her, she nods faintly.
Hiccup brushes the sticky bangs from her forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"It hurts… everything hurts."
His look is almost enough to release the impending flux of tears. Her head throbs. Her chest wants to explode. Her back and abdomen sting like the dwelling of a hundred knives.
But nothing aches like the hole in her heart; a shame-filled void left by an irreplaceable piece of her torn away.
"It's gonna be alright," Hiccup assures, "Gothi's on her way here. But Fishlegs reckons you broke a few ribs, and you've been bleeding inside too. We thought…" he trails off, voice cracking and eyes welling with tears.
Self-contempt sieves through pain and guilt. First Snotlout, and now she has hurt Hiccup too. Astrid tears her gaze away, suddenly finding herself unable to look at him.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut to prevent the flood. "Oh gods, Hiccup, I'm so sorry."
She can sense his pity before he speaks and it brings an additional swell of anger at herself. "Astrid–"
"It's my fault. Snotlout, he… it's all my fault."
"No," Hiccup's voice is soft, sincere, "It's the hunters' fault."
She shakes her head fiercely, inducing a fresh bout of dizziness. "If I was quicker – better – if I'd just– he'd… he never would have…"
"There was nothing you could have done, Ast–"
"But it was for me! It was all because of me – he threw his life away for me!" Her voice shatters as a sound Astrid never thought she'd ever make escapes her throat, and beyond the ache and vertigo she feels Hiccup flinch at her words.
A firm hand curls around her bicep. "Astrid… Astrid look at me."
She can't. Not after what she's done; he's too good, too pure, too… blinding to behold. It would break her.
Astrid balls his tunic in her fist, knuckles turning white, and for a mad second she wishes she is back in that cavern – without Hiccup, without Snotlout. No man to pour out his comforts while she gives back nothing but pain. She bites her lip to stop it quivering. She tastes a metallic tinge.
"Ast…" Hiccup repeats with desperation, all but begging her, "Look at me. Please."
Her wall is fracturing faster than she can hold it, his plea now dragging her to the brink. Under closed lids she looks into a blackness that frightens her; that calls to her with all the murmurs of a life of possibilities she stole; dreams trounced and erased before their time.
Swallowing the bile in her throat, Astrid forces herself to meet his eyes. Tears roll freely down her cheeks as her voice escapes in a barely audible choke.
"I failed him, Hiccup."
Hiccup shakes his head, firm. "None of this is your fault, Astrid. None of it. It's the hunters' fault. They're the ones who came to take our dragons and pursued you with the intent to kill – it's all on them. And Snotlout…" he swallows heavily, his voice beginning to quaver. "It was his choice. You didn't fail him, okay? He made his own choice. Hel, he never listened to his father, let alone mine. In my whole life I can never recall my cousin listening to anyone. You wouldn't have been able to stop him if you tried – which you wouldn't even have had time to think of doing under the circumstances you were in."
He cups her cheek with a tender palm. It is a touch foreign to her skin – like the sun's warmth shining on a Scauldron of the deep. Astrid flinches.
He wipes her cheek dry, and a fresh tear rolls over his thumb. "Snotlout did what he believed was right. We're Vikings, we know the risks. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he decided that it was worth it. He believed in you, Ast, like all of us do. Fishlegs, Tuff and Ruff… Heather… you don't know much you mean to us. And to me… I…"
Astrid searches those jade orbs with desperation, selfishly hopeful for her darkened thoughts to lift. And through her swimming vision she realizes that Hiccup is crying too.
"We need you… I… need you. And it wasn't just…" he gulps thickly, "It wasn't just your life that Snotlout gave back to you… but mine too." Fervently, determinedly, he catches her startled, desperate eyes with his own. "I love you, Astrid. And if I'd lost you now, I'd… I can't…
I can't imagine my life without you."
Astrid's heart sticks her throat as she stares at him wide-eyed, pupils blown.
And at last, the wall crumbles for the both of them.
Reality seeps in like a flesh wound on fabric, and the final ounce of anger Astrid had clung on to dissipates. Sending an agonizing convulsion of pain through her ribs, she buries herself in Hiccup's neck, bumping his chin with her forehead as she clutches him as tightly as humanly possible. In one fervent movement he wraps her up in both arms and presses his cheek into her hair, wetting the rest of her face while her tears soak the hem of his tunic.
"I love you too, Hiccup," she chokes, hoping the words are intelligible through her sobs, and they cling to each other for an eternity; weeping for Snotlout, for their both being here, for their lives entwined by a love inseparable. And as Hiccup holds her trembling body like their friend had on his snowy deathbed, Astrid imagines those huge arms protecting her – the arms that allowed her to be here now, safe in the place where he would have wanted.
"Everything's going to change now, isn't it?" she breathes at last with a watery rasp.
"It is," Hiccup murmurs back, giving her a squeeze.
An affirmation is all he can offer; and every gesture substitutes a host of words inadequate. For words are not strong enough now.
They stay like that, tightly holding one another, conveying silent comforts for the position they now find themselves in. That they've embraced the tragedy of war – real war. But while they've lost a precious friend and part of themselves forever, they've stepped into a new and stronger future, together as one.
A new murk has settled – as well as a new dawn – and they're on the precipice of the next battle. The time for games is over.
Astrid inhales deeply, shaky fingertips trailing Hiccup's collarbone. "I'm scared, Hiccup."
He lays a calloused hand over hers and weaves their fingers together. "Me too."
She closes her eyes at the touch, his thumb brushing her knuckles in soft, tender strokes. It is an action so comfortable, so intimate; like he's been doing it their entire lives.
Carefully, she pulls back to look up at him. "Hiccup… thank you," she winces, "for being here. I'm glad you're with me."
He gazes down at her with red and puffy eyes, and Astrid perceives he's been crying for a lot longer than her being conscious. Beneath his heartfelt smile, his cheeks are sunken, and purple bags rest under his beautiful foresty eyes. An overwhelming warmth hits her at the realization of what he has endured for her over the past few hours… days…
His face is freckled and flushed, and close – so close that she can see the fine trail of peach fuzz lining his jaw. And Astrid finds herself leaning in, eyes half-lidded, as desire wins over her exhausted body. Hiccup is already mirroring her, fingers flexed over her cheek in a soft enamoring touch. The tips of their noses brush, and eyelids drift shut when longing lips connect at last.
The kiss is slow, warm and wet, mingled with the salty flavor of their tears. Astrid brushes her lips over his as he leisurely mimics the movement, each allowing the other to relish in their taste. She opens her mouth to drink him in as he tilts down to better match the profile of her lips, and she finds a new fire coursing through her – fiercer and stronger than the one she'd brought from the cavern.
Too sore to lift her hand up to those beckoning locks, she settles for the feel of his pounding heartbeat – zestful and restive and very much alive.
Pulling back only at a fresh bout of pain, Astrid slowly opens her eyes to half-lidded. "Will you… stay here with me? A little longer?"
Hiccup meets her gaze, softly, reverently. "Of course." His protecting arm winds back around her, "I promised I wouldn't leave you, didn't I?"
And as he gently guides her into him and she snuggles up at his chest, Astrid allows herself the tiniest bit of hope, her mind drifting to a smug, raven-haired comrade wandering the halls of Valhalla.
"He'll find you. He will… Just promise you'll stay alive, and take care of Hookfang."
She'd been allowed the chance to keep her promise after all.