Wow, the last chapter spurred some reactions from people. It was definitely an emotional ride for Hiccup. The first of many. I was going for a mixture of brutal violence followed by deep sadness. Hopefully I managed something of the sort.

ghostpost : I'm hoping to update twice a week on Tuesdays and Fridays, schedule permitting

Guest : Thank you so much for your post. Tragic and sad was the end goal for that chapter, after all.

_

Scáth and his dragons were camped in the forest, planning their next move. They had managed to make it out of the cities boundaries while it was still dark. Now they had been forced to land and make camp as the sky began to lighten. Preferring to not risk being seen until they were farther away from the heart of the empire. Hadrian's forces were centralized around the capital, but the provinces were still protected by militia. Mostly untrained sons of nobles or volunteer recruits looking for a better life. Their numbers spread rather thin sometimes.

Neither the army or militia posed any real threat to the man and his dragon, but Scáth wasn't really in the mood for more fighting. What he wouldn't give to wipe the last four years from his memory. Unfortunately, life didn't work that way. The best he could do was wash the physical blood from his hands, and then simply try to bear the emotional burden of the remainder. There were no distractions great enough to let him escape his own mind. For now, Scáth just wanted to get as far away from Rome as he was able.

It was while he and Toothless were looking over a map of the empire that the stranger walked silently into the clearing. He showed no fear at the sight of the night fury. Simply seating himself opposite the group and waiting to be noticed. Looking up, the young man swore in surprise and reached for his sword hilt. Threatening growls issuing from the two dragons. Holding his hands up in a show of surrender, the other man began to speak in Latin.

"My name is Ilweran Lerinasson and I was told where I could find you by the Druidess Bríghid. We, my Order and I, have been searching for you for quite some time. I have been tasked with bringing you safely back to the Council of Elders on Asgard. I will explain as much as I can on the way, but we must leave now if you want to avoid the Roman soldiers that are already assembling to seek you out." Then he added at Scáth's look of surprise, "I searched the city first and witnessed their preparations myself."

Scáth had no idea what this stranger was talking about or how he had found him here. He had mentioned knowing Bríghid, which surprised him. How did he know her? Why would this Council be searching for him? Did he mean the real Asgard, as in the home of the gods?

None of it made any sense. Perhaps it would be better to question this man on the road though if he was correct about the troops. Someone must have spotted him leaving after all. He had no concerns that he and Toothless could not defeat the men, but why would he when it was simply easier to outrun them.

He was just about to agree to accompany the stranger out of the empire only, as he was beginning to doubt the man's sanity, when suddenly a great white and gold dragon erupted from the trees behind them. It looked similar to a monstrous nightmare, but was at least two or three times larger than any Scáth had ever seen. It was also wearing a saddle! From atop this saddle, a sleek black raven took off and came to rest on Ilweran's shoulder. Turning his head towards it he said, "please return immediately and tell Odin that I have found the rider."

Scáth's head was spinning. He surely didn't mean Odin Allfather. This was getting even more insane. "Erm, that wasn't..."

"Huginn? Indeed it was. He has been travelling with me. Just be glad that it was him and not one of his wolf brothers that came." Here the man stopped to allow a small shudder. "I know they are all loyal enough to Odin, but they still make me uneasy. Now come on. We have a long ways to go and I am sure you are just bursting with questions for me. This, by the way, is my dragon Tintallë." He patted the huge nightmare's nose affectionately.

Well, Scáth thought to himself, he was well and truly crazy now. Must have been all those years of fighting. He might as well follow this strange man and his giant dragon to gods know where. Apparently Bríghid had sent him here. Besides, he reminded himself, this strange man also rode a dragon. The huge gold and white beast made Toothless look like a child. This might also be exactly the thing he was hoping for. Leaving Midgard seemed like a pretty good way to escape the Romans.

Scáth packed up his gear quickly then and climbed back into the saddle. The other man leaping onto the huge nightmare with an uncomfortable ease that just screamed of magic. After seeing that, Scáth cleared his throat to catch the man's attention. As anxious as he may be to escape this world, he did still have one stipulation. "Umm, Ilweran is it? I will accompany you to see this council without argument, but I will be making one stop first. I have something important I need to deliver."

*

As the two men and their dragons made their way northward, Ilweran spoke candidly to Scáth. Confirming nonchalantly that the gods Scáth had grown up hearing tales of were, in fact, quite real. Well, real in the way that they existed within the nine realms of Yggdrasil. Ilweran seemed determined to make it clear that the Æsir were no more gods than the two of them. Odin was apparently just a very skilled mage, gifted with incredibly powerful magic. He was also incredibly ancient, which had provided him with the time needed to grow his power and master his control of it.

"Think of you or I," Ilweran explained. "As bonded riders we have an incredible proficiency in the arcane. Would we not seem as gods to others who could not access such powers? This is one of the main reasons that both Odin and Loki have been trying to sway Riders to their respective sides for centuries. Just one Rider could make all the difference when the time for war arises. Still, just because others believe that we are gods does not make us so and every man, Rider or otherwise, would do well to remember this. Worship is a dangerous thing for those on the receiving end."

Scáth and Toothless were just left even more confused at this. "What exactly do you mean by a 'bonded' rider?" he had to ask. He had sensed that the connection between Toothless and himself was special, but he did not realize it was not unique to them.

"A bonded rider is what we call the connection you have with your dragon. You are more closely linked than any two beings could be. You share thoughts, emotions, and powers. You will also share pain, both physical and emotional. Both individuals will feel a pull towards the other before hand, but the bond is only completed at your first physical contact. I'm not talking about a chance contact during the heat of battle or by accident. It is the moment where you both made a choice to trust the other."

Thinking back, Scáth remembered the moment in the cove when he had willingly offered his hand to Toothless and the dragon had trusted him enough to press his nose to it. The instant snout and palm connected, he had felt a warm tingle spread up his arm and across his back. When Toothless had snorted and walked away from him, he had remained rooted to the spot; fascinated by the strange sensation. When he had returned home that night, his back was still burning.

Removing his tunic, he had glanced in his bronze mirror to see a remarkable black design of a night fury stretching across his shoulders and down his back. Its tail wrapping all the way around to his stomach. He had been careful to keep it hidden under his clothes until he left Berk. All he knew was that, from that first moment, he had been unable to spend any great length of time away from Toothless.

Giving the young man a few moments to reminisce, Ilweran then smiled and continued. "You are remembering the moment you bonded with your dragon I assume. The symbol that spread across your back from that first contact marks you out as a bonded rider. It may appear to be an ordinary tattoo, but when another rider is bonded somewhere in the nine realms, it will burn. Not overly so, but painfully enough that you will recognize the joining of another Rider to the Order."

"That must be why he was searching for us. Their marks would have burned when we bonded. I wonder why it took him so long to find us?" Toothless commented. When Scáth relayed the question, it took Ilweran a few moments before he answered now.

"There has not been a bonded rider from Midgard in many years. No one really knows why, but because of this it is usually the last realm that we search. At first Odin will try to use his abilities as a seer to find the new Rider. It does take some time, as it is extremely difficult to scry for that which you do not know. Though it is still quicker than a manual search, and helps to at least narrow down which realm the Rider is from. For some reason, his visions were blocked this time. Odin was forced to send his familiars to scout ahead instead. Once they located you, a member of the Order was sent to retrieve you."

Scáth frowned in confusion. "Why would Odin's vision be blocked. What could do that?"

Ilweran seemed to contemplate his answer. "Honestly, I am not sure what may have blocked it. Only a very powerful magical being or object would be able to do it. This was another reason that it took us so long to search Midgard. Humans are virtually never bonded and only a very few are able to use magic at all."

"Are you not human then," Scáth exclaimed in surprise.

"Not entirely," Ilweran admitted. "My mother is an elf and my father was a human. When Odin announced that he was going to seal the gate to Midgard to any race that was not human, it became clear that they would need an envoy to send through if a new Rider was bonded in this realm." Seeing Scáth's question forming he quickly said, "no one knows why the gate needed to be sealed." He then continued with his tale. "My mother came to Midgard and performed a ritual to allow her to conceive a child with a human so that I could be the bridge between the realms. My name, Ilweran, literally means Bridge of Heaven in my native elvish."

At this, Scáth and Toothless took a closer look at their companion. He was a young man, likely no older than 25 years, though he spoke in the way of one much older. His skin was of a medium tanned colour that was reminiscent of the people of the Mediterranean. His face was indeed fairer and more angular than most Scáth had seen in his travels, but not remarkably so. He was admittedly also rather tall for a human, but he still did not really resemble the elves of the eddas that Scáth had grown up with.

When Ilweran pulled back his white-blonde hair however, Scáth could see that the man's ears were a strange oblong shape that nearly came to a point. It was subtle, but definitely there. Then Ilweran met Scáth's gaze. Earlier, in the clearing, Scáth had assumed that the man's unusual gaze was merely a trick of the morning sunlight reflecting on pale brown irises. Now he knew that he definitely hadn't been fooled by the sun, or imagining things.

Beneath thin, high brows, the man's eyes were a strange amber colour; almost a yellowish-gold. It was somewhat unsettling, but there was a warmth and power in them that could not be mistaken. Like liquid sunlight. This revelation hit Scáth like a hammer to the head. Everything this man was saying was true! No matter how crazy or impossible it sounded.

The gods were real, but they were not gods. Elves existed. Did this mean that all of the other realms existed as well? Was Yggdrasil real too? Was she really a tree? There was just too much to take in all at once, so Scáth settled on asking a simpler question with a hopefully less disorienting answer. "You said that you will not be joining me to make my delivery. Where will you go instead?"

"I have a friend in the far north that I need to visit while I am here. I shall travel to her home to receive the information she has for the Council. It will take me two days to get there and back. Two days should be long enough for you to complete your delivery, I hope," Ilweran commented with a knowing smile. Grateful for the gathering darkness that hid his blush, Scáth turned his attention back to the sky.

*

Travelling by dragon was so much faster than by horse. Scáth could barely believe that it had only taken them three days to travel the same journey that had taken weeks with Hadrian's men. This was helped by the incredible speed of the two dragons. The nightmare was larger than Toothless by quite a large margin, but night furies were the fastest breed of dragon alive. This meant that the nightmare's larger wingspan did not give it that significant of an advantage over the smaller dragon.

The four of them stopped to camp on a small, uninhabited island just within the eastern boundaries of the Archipelago. It was one that Scáth and Toothless had found during their initial flight from Berk. They had jokingly dubbed it Itchy Armpit at the time and the name had just seemed to stick. Scáth and Ilweran agreeing to meet back on this spot as they packed up the next morning. Ilweran and his dragon flying north, while Scáth and Toothless headed west.

His first stop was Dragon Island. He and Toothless did not feel even close to powerful enough yet to take out that beast on their own and live. Still, they were not completely without skills now. Picking through his relatively vast repertoire of spells, Scáth placed misdirection and boundary wards around the island. This way even with him off realm, anyone that tried to sail here would be led off course. If they did manage to find a way around the misdirection ward, the boundary ward would hopefully alert him in time to get here. Satisfied, he took off towards Berk.

As he neared his old village, Scáth took a moment to remember his life before Toothless. He wondered if the people would even recognize him as the runty hiccup that had run away five years ago (not that he planned to let them see him). He was a different person now. He had grown taller and stronger. Seen hardships and cruelty that had hardened him. He was not an innocent young boy anymore, trusting the adults around him to do what was right.

He was a grown man now, and one that had experienced the duality of the world firsthand. The contrasting light and dark that existed in all beings; warring for dominance. Though he had washed the blood off of his armour after escaping the city, he felt as if there remained a quantity of it on his hands. Not visible, but a physical thing none-the-less. He was no longer sure what was right. How many innocents had died while he fought for the empire. Receiving payment for blood.

Shaking these dark thoughts from his mind, Scáth and Toothless climbed above the cloud bank as they came into view of the sentinels. It would not do to have Toothless spotted. Scáth was here for one person only. Swinging around to approach from the side of the island, he was surprised by how familiar it still seemed to him. He and Toothless weaving easily through the sea stacks as if they did this every day; heading straight to the cove. Sharpshot had been riding on his shoulders this whole time since he couldn't keep up with the larger dragons. As soon as they got close to the ground however, the small dragon took off and started zooming around. Delighted to be able to fly under his own power again.

After dismounting, Scáth promptly tore a page from his journal. Scribbling a hasty 'come to the cove' before sending Sharpshot to find Astrid. Then he settled down to wait by the pond as he gazed out over the still water. He had almost forgotten how wonderfully peaceful this place was. After a few minutes of this Scáth started to feel slightly restless though. It had been so long since he had just relaxed that he wasn't really sure how to anymore, so he decided to set up camp while he waited instead. He did not plan to get any closer to the village than this during his stay anyways, since he was not ready to face his father just yet.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait very long. Scáth turned abruptly at a rustling in the bushes near the edge of the cliff. Next thing he knew, there was a slim, blonde someone launching herself at him. He caught her in his arms as she clung to his neck. Burying her face in the crook of his shoulder.

"I'm so glad to see you," she mumbled against his skin. The touch of her lips sending warm tingles shooting down his spine. He allowed his hands to slide down her back and over her waist as she took a step back to look at him. Her eyes growing wide in shock as she took in his new appearance.

*

Astrid found herself simply gaping like an idiot for a moment. She had blindly rushed into the arms of the man waiting in the cove, assuming that it was Hiccup. She hadn't even thought to really look at them first. Now that she was, it took her a bit to get her bearings. This had to be Hiccup though. No one else would send her that message with Sharpshot or know to meet her here, in this cove. However, the man that had caught her in his arms did NOT look like Hiccup. What had happened to him?

She allowed her eyes to wander over his frame as she tried to process this new reality. The runty boy from the forge was gone. In his place stood a tall and enchanting dark warrior. A strange and unexpected heat beginning to flare in her belly as she looked him over. The hands that he trailed over her back and waist sending unfamiliar tingles from her head to her toes as their warmth soaked through her tunic.

He was taller now. Much, much taller. He would be able to look all the men, even his father, in the eye. He was still slim, but she could tell that it was with a wiry, athletic strength instead of the lanky and awkward limbs he'd had before. His arms had been solid and sure when they had caught her. His body feeling hard and strong beneath his clothes as he had held her close.

He was wearing a strange black suit of armour made from thick leather pounded flat. It had buckles and straps all over it, forming complex patterns. The hilt of a sword with no blade was strapped to his right leg, and there were throwing knives tucked into the leather gauntlets he wore on both forearms. Tilting her head back to see his face, Astrid traced her eyes over the sharply defined jaw and high cheekbones. Slightly pouty lower lip just waiting to be kissed. His hair was longer now and lay in a gloriously windblown mop she was suddenly longing to run her fingers through.

He looked so different. There was nothing she could find of the old Hiccup in him. That was, until she met his eyes. They were the same eyes she had seen in her dreams for years. Brilliant green and gentle as they looked back at her. Though there was also an unfamiliar hardness around them, as if he had lived through difficult times. Still they held all the kindness of his youth in their depths.

Relief washed over her now. This was her Hiccup. He was still in there. Behind the striking good looks and warriors exterior. Though the light of innocence she remembered may have dimmed somewhat, it seemed that the young boy from the forge was not completely gone either.

Astrid just couldn't seem to stop staring at him. Unsure what to say, and fielding strange new feelings that she had never experienced before. Every time she had read Hiccup's letters, she had been picturing the adorably awkward boy that she remembered from Berk. It had never really occurred to her what he might grow up to be. If only everyone else could see the gorgeous man he'd become. Boy would Ruff be sorry that she married Fishlegs, Astrid thought as she bit back a chuckle. Gods, and how furious would Snotlout be?!

*

Scáth began to grow slightly uncomfortable under Astrid's intent gaze. Why is she just staring at me like that? Why doesn't she say something? Maybe she doesn't recognize me... Raising one hand to rub at the back of his neck in a nervous gesture, he glanced sheepishly at the ground for a moment before looking up and offering her a lopsided smile.

"Hey Astrid. Long time no see." Pathetic; maybe, but it was all he could think to say. He seemed to have been temporarily struck dumb by her appearance. Somehow, Astrid had only gotten more beautiful over the years. Her long blonde hair was still braided back, but her bangs were cut differently. Instead of trying to hide her beauty from the world, they now framed her delicate face perfectly. Allowing a hint of feminine fragility to shine through. As well as offering an unhindered view of her ocean blue eyes.

The passing years had turned her into the vision of a goddess. Still a warrior of course, but softer now. Ample breasts and hips accentuated by a narrow waist. Tall and athletic, complete with long, shapely legs. Perfectly proportioned, in his mind. Her curves would have been the envy of any noble woman in the capital.

Of course, she's a woman now! The thought surprised him. Somehow Scáth had always pictured her as the girl he had flown away from five years ago. Beautiful, but in an innocent and youthful sort of way. He had never expected this siren-call of a vixen to be waiting for him.

He was still trying to process his new and unexpected desires when Toothless bounded over to them and began to nuzzle Astrid. His tail wiggling around excitedly. The moment was broken as she leaned down to scratch the dragon under his chin, laughing at his exuberance. "Good to see one of you hasn't changed at all." She laughed again as Toothless bounded off back towards the pond. Then she lowered herself onto one of the boulders in the cove and patted the seat beside her.

Scáth chuckled as he made his way over and sat down, barely brushing against her. It was still enough to send another shock down his spine. He needed to be careful. This was Astrid Hofferson, not some simple maiden in the city. If he made the wrong move, she was likely to cut off some very important part of him. Gods knew she had threatened Snotlout with that enough times. Scáth shuddered at the thought and leaned away from her slightly.

"So, tell me all about your adventures. I know you couldn't have put everything into those letters. You have been gone for five years." Astrid looked at him excitedly as she waited for him to start. Smiling again, Scáth launched into his story. Beginning with the day after he had left Berk. Though he was careful to remain vague when speaking of the druids. Ending with the day he had begun this journey with Ilweran. Though he did skirt around his true duties in Rome. Making it seem as if he was only there to study and explore instead of maim and kill. She didn't need all the gory details.

He explained some of what he had learned of his bond with Toothless and about having to leave with the other rider to go and meet some mysterious council. He decided to leave out the part where he was apparently going to leave Midgard, or that the other realms existed. It seemed a bit of a stretch. Concluding the whole narrative by telling her that he couldn't leave without seeing her first. By the time Scáth was done, his throat was sore and his voice had grown hoarse. Now it was his turn to ask her about all he had missed.

"Not much really," Astrid replied honestly. "Your dad still hates the dragons, but misses you. Gobber still runs the forge on his own, having never taken on another apprentice. He claims he doesn't have the patience for it, but I'm sure he just misses you too. We've all missed you. Well, except for Snotlout. He has been strutting around telling everyone in the village that he will be the next chief and that I'm going to be his wife. I already knocked out a couple of his teeth for it, but he won't let it drop. The idiot! Oh, and Fishlegs and Ruffnut are to be married this fall."

Still lost in pleasant images of Astrid knocking out Snotlout's teeth, Scáth was slow to catch the last part. When he did, he almost fell off the boulder because he was laughing so hard. What?! Ruffnut and Fishlegs?! The union was so unlikely that it was hilarious.

"I know. I thought the same thing when I first heard about it. Ruffnut actually had to slap me to get me to stop laughing. It's weird though. Fishlegs does seem to have a way of toning down her crazy, at least a little bit. He also seems to genuinely like her and she enjoys his company. Should still be interesting when they have to share a home."

"Or when they start having kids" Scáth offered with a last chuckle. Wiping the tears from his eyes.

"That too," Astrid conceded; also with a chuckle.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence then as they sat side by side. Watching Toothless chase fish around the pond while the sky gradually darkened. Scáth was almost painfully aware of her warm, soft body beside him, but he was adamantly ignoring it. Finally Astrid rose and said she had better get home before her family started to wonder where she had gone and came looking for her. They still had one more day before he left, so she promised to return tomorrow after her morning chores.

Calling Toothless over, Scáth got up from the rock and stretched his aching back. Days of riding Toothless with very few breaks, followed by hours of sitting on a hard boulder had left him sore as an old crone. Reaching up to the saddle, he retrieved the two packages wrapped in fine silk cloth. One large and one small. Handing the larger of the two silently to Astrid, he watched bemusedly as she marvelled over the texture of the silk. If she was that impressed with the wrappings he could hardly wait to see her open them.

*

Carefully, so as not to wreck the fabric, Astrid slowly unfolded it from around the large wooden box. Whatever was in it was quite heavy. Lifting the lid she revealed a beautiful new axe. Then she was quickly pulling it out to examine it closer. Marvelling at the strange patterns within the metal. The impossibly sharp blade looking almost as if it was created from waves made solid.

Etched into the curious metal were curling symbols that she recognized from Hiccup's first letter to her. The handle polished perfectly smooth, and the wrapped grip made from some extremely soft type of leather. There were even more of the delicately curling designs carved into the handle on either side of the grip. The blade sharpened to a deadly edge. It had to be Hiccup's work. No one but him could make a weapon this beautiful.

Astrid looked up from the axe with wide eyes. Wondering why on earth he would give her such a beautiful gift. It must have taken him forever to build. Sensing her unspoken question, Hiccup simply shrugged. "I figured you would have outgrown your old axe by now. I learned some new skills on my travels and figured you wouldn't mind if I made you a better one than my last. I was never very practiced with making axes and I'm honestly surprised that one has held up this long for you." He raised his hand to his neck nervously again.

"Thank you Hiccup," she said honestly. "It's beautiful. How did you make this? I've never seen anything like it."

"Actually, the blade I commissioned from a tradesman in Rome. It is called Damascus and it is a closely guarded secret amongst the Syrian tribesmen that work with it. I know the principles of how it is made, but it takes many years to become practiced enough to master it like this. It is my design, but they forged it for me. Everything else on it is my own work. I actually have one more gift for you and this one I really did make all by myself." He grinned and handed her the smaller of the two packages. Taking her axe to allow her use of both hands.

Beneath the cloth was another box. This one was very ornate, which meant it was obviously intended to be kept. Inside this small box was a necklace. A long silver chain held a medium sized silver pendant. Nestled inside a cage of delicate wires was a flower made from carved black stones that she recognized to actually be scales from Toothless. Around the edges of the flower were a few scattered leaves carved from a strange substance that rippled with rainbows. The centre was made from more of the iridescent stone. When she looked closer she saw that it held an impossibly small image of a curled night fury. One minuscule dab of red paint to represent the artificial tail fin that Hiccup had built. It was a tiny replica of the insignia that he wore on his armour.

Taking it gently from her shaking hands, Hiccup placed it around her neck and freed her braid from the chain. Letting the pendant drop to settle over her heart. Astrid touched her hand briefly to it, tears springing to her eyes. Reaching out, she wrapped her fingers around the straps on Hiccup's chest and dragged his face down to hers. Pressing her lips to his before she could overthink it. Feeling him first stiffen in shock, but then relax and wrap his arms around her to pull her closer.

He returned the kiss eagerly, but with a gentleness that spoke of skill. Warmth blossoming from where their lips met and racing through Astrid's body. Overwhelming her. All too soon though, Hiccup pulled away. Disengaging himself gently, he leaned back to look her in the eyes instead. Still holding her tight against him.

"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining or anything." He smirked as she gave a choked laugh.

"That was for being the most incredible, romantic idiot I have ever met. Thank you Hiccup." With that she stepped away and picked her axe up from where he had leaned it against a rock. Then she touched her pendant once more, and started back towards the forest. At the edge of the cove she turned around and blew him a kiss, before darting out of sight between the cliffs.

*

It wasn't until she was already leaving that Scáth finally realized that he had never told her he went by a new name now. It had just felt right having Astrid call him by his given name. Especially here on Berk itself. He was leaving this realm anyways. Perhaps now was the time to throw away the name that tied him to the horrors of Rome and embrace the name the tied him to Astrid instead.

She had made him feel like, just maybe, he wasn't the monster he feared. Her presence alone had numbed his troubled mind for a few sweet hours. It was a heady feeling. Surely anything that brought them together was good for him. What they had was tender, innocent, and everything that his life in Rome had never been.

He only realized that he was still staring after Astrid like a love-struck teenager when Toothless suddenly huffed loudly in his ear. Turning, Scáth shot the dragon a glare. "What are you looking at?" Toothless just gave him a sarcastically knowing look in return. Stupid, dirty reptile.

*

Astrid stumbled through the forest in a drunken stupor. Only pausing at the edge of the village to tuck the pendant beneath her tunic where she could feel the cold metal brushing against her skin. She did not want anyone else to see it lest they figure out where it came from. No one else but Hiccup could make such a beautiful, intricate and delicate piece in all the archipelago. Surely someone would notice that.

When she reached her house, she snuck inside and up to her room as quietly as she could. Placing the ornate box on her desk and both axes under her bed to hide them. Then she went back down to the main room and devoured her dinner as quickly as possible. At the questioning look her mother gave her she explained that she was tired and just wanted to sleep. Once back in her room, she pulled the new axe out to admire it. It truly was a work of art and Astrid was almost afraid to use it. She knew from experience though that Hiccup's work was always both functional and beautiful. It would hold its own in battle no doubt.

Taking out the pendant to look at it again, Astrid began to truly appreciate how much time he had put into these gifts. The axe was wonderful, but the pendant meant more to her somehow. Brushing her fingers over it as she realized that his hands had worked this. She settled it back under her tunic and she could almost imagine that it was his fingers trailing over her skin instead. The thought stirring a sudden and unexpected ache deep in her lower belly as a small shudder ran through her body.

Astrid had spent enough afternoons with the older women on wash day to know what this jittery new feeling meant. Even though she had never really experienced it before. She had dreamed of what might happen when Hiccup finally returned, of course. She was not completely naive after all. No amount of dreams had prepared her for the true strength of these desires though.

She brushed a finger over her lips. Remembering the warmth that had spread from his mouth to hers, causing her blood to boil under her skin. His strong arms moulding her body to his, yet still not holding her tight enough. Fingering the pendant again, she began to feel a hint of regret replace the warmth in her chest. Hiccup had brought her such beautiful gifts and yet she had nothing to give him in return. Or did she...

A plan began to form in her mind. There was something that she could give to Hiccup. Something that he could carry with him at all times. It was something she had hoped to give to him anyways when he came back; and to no one else if he didn't. Smiling now, Astrid rolled over and promptly fell asleep.

_

Finally! Our two favourite lovebirds are reunited after 5 long years apart. Maybe not as permanent of a reunion as we would like though. Hiccup does have a pretty big destiny ahead of him...