Edited.
Artichoke had woken up to the sound of a rooster yelling far too loud for his liking. He couldn't remember any neighbors with chickens, but he couldn't care, either, since his head was filled with ceaselessly throbbing pain.
With a yawn, the boy took more conscience of his surroundings, noticing he had used a stiff wood-made kitchen table and chair as a pillow and bed, though he had no clear memory of falling asleep in it. Cursing low, he then realized there was a thick blanket around his shoulders and an empty bucket under the sink. His feet felt oddly bare, he'd usually only take his boots off for sleeping or bathing and although this seemed an unplanned sleeping position, his boots were safely placed by the door. Well safely far from him, given how much of a mess they were.
Then it hit him.
Snotlout's fiasco, the drunkness, the vomit, the boots and Hiccup. Hiccup crying and bringing a bucket and… Other sinful thoughts that roamed his mind free of chains, no more repressed in the back of his mind to avoid awkwardness.
"You should drink water", he heard her feminine voice from the back door. Hiccup had her hair tied in the odd, short braids as usual, and her flying gear was once again covering her shoulders and torso. She had no satchel or basket or backup anything to fill up packings for leaving. Just herself and an itching wish to go back to her beast- no, her friend.
Last night, during a few minutes, Artichoke had admitted flying could be beautiful, fun, even. Well 'amazing' was his word then. Surreal could also be a fitting word for the act. It had been so high, so fast, so windy and absurd to have his body so up in the air, on the back of a monster. Even so, at this very specific moment of here and now, the memory made his stomach twist, threat another unload from his mouth, case it hadn't already been empty from last night.
All in all, however, the logical memory and thought of how powerful it could feel to ride a dragon, the sight of a unique type of determination and understanding shinning through his wife's face when she had flown up with the Night Fury. Toothless, was it? An odd name, considering, well, teeth.
"Wait" he said just before she closed the door behind her and ran for the woods as she had these months. "I think we should plan about the dragon killing thing". After all, last night probably wasn't productive on that matter.
"We should, yes- I-" her expression quickly went from eager to leave to worried and sorry.
"Let me kill it", he found himself saying, getting up from his seat, ignoring the need to stretch his back and yawn again, forcing a stoic-like look in himself, after hearing his own words. "Not for the glory or anything, it doesn't even have to be me, but stop whatever cheating magic you're doing in the arena".
"I didn't plan to cheat, you know, it was-". Damnit, why was it so hard for him to find a good way to express what he actually meant? She just changed the topic over a small part of his whole statement.
"I mean-" he interrupted her a bit too loud and sighed, quitting his stoic posture soon enough. "I remember how worried you got over unknown terrible terrors the last raid". That seemed to take away any further words as she looked away. "It's not just the Night Furry, is it? You grew soft for other dragons now".
"That's because we've been wrong about all dragons now". No, not wrong. Artichoke wasn't wrong to ask the gods for strength when his hut got burnt down in a raid, when he saw people's burning scars and loss, that meant the dragons were wrong. The Night Fury could be different, maybe… He had to admit he didn't quite understand it yet, but that dragon didn't try to eat or burn him like the legends, didn't mean every other hasn't.
"Hiccup, what are you talking about? They're monsters, these beasts kept us apart from the world and burning every few weeks for ages, since Vikings ever first got to Berk".
"No, you-", she sighed. "You saw that Queen bee and you saw that it controlled them, they're not dangerous or a threat when they don't see us as dangerous or threats, they- they're intelligent, kind creatures that could befriend us in different circumstances, Artichoke…". She had passion sparking in her eyes. A passion on a mix of when Fishlegs listed curiosity facts nonstop, but the fact she kept her voice stern and serious made Artichoke think she reminded of her father whenever he had to remind the village what they fought for.
Still, he couldn't just accept that the same fire-breathing creatures he'd fought against all his life could be friends so easily, even still with the Toothless Night Fury.
"Doesn't matter if I agree with you, you know… You can't give back rides on your dragon to everyone in this island". He insisted, knowing she was aware just as much. "Stop whatever tricks you've been making these weeks on the arena, we can find a better way to discuss about dragons, but you being chosen to kill one of them in front of the whole village… Look, I don't care if you think the ones you saw are friendly, that Monstruous Nightmare will try eating any Viking alive after being set free, it has always been this way". And Hiccup knows that as well. "Let me- let someone else kill it".
Artichoke took her lack of argument as an agreement.
"Gobber called off today's lesson, after all", she said a few moments then, the eagerness to leave turned to ashes thrown at the wind. "You can- uh, catch up some sleep in the bed if you want, I'm gonna- I want to fly with Toothless for as much as I can now".
Right, he thought. It's stupid and you should be careful, but you know that.
"Nah, I should head to the hot springs while is still sunny, you wouldn't want me still smelling like piss and beer right, not that there's much of a difference", he said, as if suddenly remembering every aspect of last night's conversation and taking in the guilt of enjoying her sudden red face.
"Sorry I didn't- I-" he couldn't help a small laugh this time.
"No, it's fine you were right".
"You smell pretty good… Usually", they spoke at the same time but her sentence got more attention, the last word being added with growing awkwardness as she notice what just came out of her mouth. He couldn't help but to feel his own cheeks growing hot just as much. He never met anyone who smelled particularly good in that island, except for maybe right after a bath. And it wasn't like she stink either – no, Hiccup often left an iron and ashes like aroma whenever she was too close, close enough for him to smell.
She mumbled an apology the same time he mumbled a thank you, and left, eagerness to run towards her dragon full charged again.