A/N: And today is the anniversary of posting this story-which I will finish (just slowly). Enjoy.

Eighteen: For His Life

"Stop! You can't do that!" It was Astrid. "If you kill him, you have to kill me to-because he saved my life!" The clear female voice rang through the Great Hall and every eye turned onto the slender blonde shape of Astrid as she pulled away from her father. His hand snatched her arm tightly and she hissed with pain as she struggled-to no avail.

"Be silent, girl!" her father ordered her but she shook her head.

"I am not going to stand by and allow someone who risked his life for me-twice, at least-to be executed when I should speak up!" she replied calmly, teeth gritted against the pain. "I am a Hofferson and we are fearless. I am not afraid of you, sir. Not when shaming our family honour and affronting Lord Odin would be worse. Hiccup saved my life! He rushed in to help me when the others ran and when we were trapped, he approached the closest dragon to try to calm it down, to allow me to get away."

"Preposterous!" Mildew sneered.

"I-I'm sorry," Hiccup blurted out, his eyes wide with anxiety. "I-I didn't mean to upset anyone…I-I just didn't want to be killed…"

Of course, we can't tell anyone-not even Stoick. Especially not Stoick. No matter how fond he seems of you, Hiccup, he's obsessed with the dragons. When his wife and son died in childbirth, he has had nothing except the village and he will do everything to keep them safe.

The Chief stared at him, saw the desperation in the green eyes and through his bubbling anger at the apparent transgression, he recalled the boy had been on Berk for a few weeks only. And during that time, no one else had made the boy welcome and absolutely no one had taken the time to explain about life on Berk. It was clear that Snotlout, his Heir, had signally failed in his duty to orientate the newcomer to Berk life and custom and his family likewise. Stoick was too busy and no one else had been asked or wanted to have anything to do with the outsider. Even Astrid Hofferson, who had seemed so friendly, was apparently forbidden to have anything to do with Hiccup.

And yet…the boy had done what no one else had, in calming a dragon. Maybe it was a complete one-off…but it was something unique and different in Berk and maybe, it offered the tiniest chink of hope. Because, Gods knew, they needed it. And if there was another way to deal with them that didn't automatically involve fires and death, then Stoick was desperate enough to explore it. He still sought the nest because there had to be a final answer to the raids…but Mulch made a good point. The outsider had seen what no one had considered because he wasn't of Berk and had approached the problem using his own experience with animal husbandry. And it had worked…until the dragons had been charged by armed Vikings.

They've killed hundreds of us.

And in return, we've killed thousands of them.

If you keep fighting, there will continue to be casualties, the Chief realised, staring at the young man in front of him. He tightened his grasp carefully on the bony shoulder, feeling the boy trembling under his soft touch. He didn't know it was wrong…and he did spare the girl. Five Nadders should have killed them in seconds-but he managed to keep them distracted long enough to be rescued.

"I'm sorry," Hiccup whispered. "I didn't want to disappoint you…but I couldn't let Astrid die."

And the tone of his voice opened another knot of problems. There was a faint yearning that told the perceptive Chief of growing affection for the lass who was already targeted by Snotlout as his future mate-though Stoick would do all in his power to prevent that appalling match. Yet Astrid's father would veto any friendship, let alone more, between the shamed boy and his precious older daughter…and that would deal Hiccup yet another wound he didn't deserve.

"You did not commit treason!" the Chief announced. "You acted in the way you thought would save the life of another Hooligan. You were successful. And your lack of upbringing here and knowledge of our customs meant that you had no clue that some would take such exception to your actions, Hiccup."

"This is a disgrace-and yer know it, Stoick!" Mildew sneered, approaching and waving his staff threateningly. In an instant, the Chief was on his feet, towering over the old man and shoving him back, his face reddening with anger at the sedition.

"You threaten me, you go against me once more, Mildew, and I'll cast you out to sea for the Scauldrons to feast on!" the Chief snarled. The room fell silent and Spitelout, who had opened his mouth to join the protests, snapped it shut and sat down immediately. There was the sharp bang of a staff and the old woman shuffled forward, glaring at the unpleasant Mildew.

"What yer want, Gothi?" the old man sneered as Stoick bowed his head slightly in respect. Without pausing, she slammed her staff into Mildew's face and knocked him sideways to gasps and sniggers. She glared at the old man…then peered into the bowed face of the young man. Her claw-like finger pointed at him and then she nodded. Then she turned and began to scratch the end of her staff on the floor. Gobber signed and reluctantly lumbered up to peer at the marks on the floor.

"She's mumbling again," he grumbled. "Scratch clearly, ye old bat!" Without hesitation, she whacked him on the head and he yelped. The old woman scratched more deliberately on the floor and Gobber peered at the marks. To Hiccup, they appeared to be just random scratches but clearly they had some meaning because the blacksmith nodded thoughtfully. "She says the boy has not committed treason. He has done nothing but protect a friend by whatever means he could. He saved the life of a Hooligan. And he may have discovered something else that could be used to prevent theft of our food and deaths among the tribe."

Gothi-clearly the Elder, since she looked thirty years older than anyone else present, at the very least-scratched another line. Gobber's eyes widened. "Really?" She nodded.

"What?" Stoick asked impatiently. Gobber's unibrow waggled.

"She says," he began portentously, "he has a density!"

There was a resounding silence.

"What?"

Gothi hit the blacksmith in the head while she rolled her eyes in exasperation. She slammed her staff on the line and underlined the last few scratches.

"Destiny? Are you sure? because it looks like…" Gobber protested and earned another whack in the head. "Okay. The boy has a destiny. He is crucial to the future of the Tribe. And Mildew is a yak-faced troublemaker!" Mildew snorted in anger but Gothi gave a very crooked grin and everyone knew that was exactly what she had written. The old man glared at everyone present and then waved his bony fist under Hiccup's nose.

"I've got me eye on yer yer little bastard!" he sneered and stomped out, shoving his way through the crowd. "Gerrout me way!" he muttered as he elbowed Vikings aside. There was an audible sigh of relief as he left and Hiccup hesitantly looked up into the Chief's face. He was still expecting rejection and wondered if he could sleep in the back of the forge-though he would probably freeze to death in the depths of winter…

"Hiccup?" The Chief's voice was soft and the boy steeled himself for more bad news. "Are you alright, son?" Trembling, Hiccup nodded automatically but the huge man gently rested his hand on the boy's head and tilted it, peering down on the lump on the back of the boy's head, blood smeared amid his tousled auburn hair. "Gothi-I would be grateful if you would have look?" The old woman immediately hobbled forward and poked the injury.

"Owww!" Hiccup yelped, trying to pull away. Stoick gave a small smile.

"So not actually okay," he surmised and smiled, wrapping arm arm round the skinny shoulders. "Come on, Hiccup. Let's get you home and then the Elder can treat that bump!"

"H-home?" Hiccup gasped, his eyes wide with shock. "I-I thought you-you wouldn't want me there anymore…" The Chief gave a sad look and wrapped a strong embrace round the bruised young man, feeling him curl against his massive chest. A hand tousled the hair very gently.

"It's your home too," he whispered. "And I'm not giving up on you yet." Hiccup's skinny arms wound around the Chief and his shoulders shook. Stoick leaned close, his lips an inch from the boy's ear. "I promised to protect you, Hiccup. And I will do that. Trust me."

We can't tell anyone-not even Stoick.

"Thank you," the boy whispered, shaking as the Council dispersed and the villagers filed out. There were an array of unfriendly or suspicious looks cast in his direction as well as a couple of interested or hopeful ones-especially from Fishlegs. Astrid had been shepherded away by Ivar before anyone else got a chance to leave and the boy hoped she would be safe: her father had looked mad and he wondered if he could ask the Chief to intercede on her behalf. But right now, he just wanted to get home and feel safe once more. And as they walked out of the door, the powerful shape at his side, he allowed himself to imagine he was with his family and going back home.

oOo

He was curled in his bed, extra furs wrapped around his skinny shape and a poultice applied to the horrible lump on the back of his head. The Chief had ensured the boy finished two bowls of thick chicken and cabbage soup and bread and had then put him to bed-so Hiccup was warm and fed and able to think over what had happened. And he was honestly shocked that he was still alive and his head was spinning that he had even dared try to train a dragon during a raid when the other Vikings could watch him. And the Chief hadn't killed him outright, which he had resigned himself to while lying curled up in that cold little cell. Stoick had even continued to treat him like a son, caring for him as he hadn't been for years.

He knew he had to see the black dragon again.

He rolled slightly onto his right shoulder and stared up at the ceiling. When he had first encountered the Night Fury dragon, he had expected to die…but the dragon had saved him from Snotlout and Spitelout, at least temporarily. And when they had met again…the feeling of the dragon's warm snout pressed against his hand had shot a sensation of warmth and belonging that had made him feel as if he was flying. And the dragon had accepted Astrid, had been friendly to her which had made him believe it wasn't a fluke but some fundamental truth about dragons that had emboldened him enough to try the insane risk he took to save her life-almost at the cost of his own.

But there were a lot of people who seemed utterly resistant to the concept of befriending dragons as a way to avoid the carnage of the raids. The old man Mildew was clearly wedded to his identity as a dragon fighter-which Stoick had explained to him over the stew. Mildew had buried three wives and had a very poor cabbage farm the other side of the mountain: he was universally despised but he excelled at stirring up trouble-and he always sought the soft target. Unfortunately, he was skilled rabble-rouser…and his beady eye had settled firmly on Hiccup.

About half the village had looked at him as if he had suggested some very inappropriate action with a sheep and he guessed they wouldn't be amenable to trying anything other than the old ways. Hiccup hadn't even considered broaching the subject with the Chief himself because he trusted Astrid's judgement and if she said he was never going to change, then that was how it was. He blinked and sighed. He missed having someone to talk to-and even a few days of Astrid's friendship made his usual despised and isolated state worse.

Then the hatch opened and he tensed, shoving himself upright because he was scared that Snotlout would come for him…but the familiar lithe shape of Astrid landed on his bed as he sat up-and then gaped.

There was bruising on her cheek and her eyes looked…shamed. Instantly guilt crashed around him and he recoiled, drawing his knees up to his chest and dropping his head in shame. He had damaged her by being…well, alive, probably. He wrapped his arms around his legs and sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said as an opening gambit, his entire stomach clenched in guilt. Her head snapped up, azure eyes blazing with anger-but after a crowded moment, he realised it was not directed at him.

"Why?" she said more sharply than she had intended. "You saved my life, Hiccup. I said there was no one I would rather be with in that moment and I meant it. You stopped them killing us. You saved our lives. And I truly believe that had you not been interrupted, you could have managed to get them to go of their own accord!"

He blushed and stared at the furs, a hand trailing down to twist the hairs aimlessly. He managed a shrug. "Doubt it," he mumbled. "I guess whatever reason they were there would have come back to them and then they would have eaten me." She sat back on her heels a mere foot or so from him and sighed.

"Doubt it," she reminded him. "They probably needed more than a canapé." A small smile twitched his mouth.

"They had you as well," he reminded her softly. She swatted his shoulder.

"I was out of there," she reminded him.

"Thanks for speaking up for me," he managed seriously. "I-I think it actually made all the difference." She stared at him and then gave a huge sigh.

"You're welcome," she said tonelessly. "It made a difference to me as well. My father thinks I am spoiled by associating with you. That my honoured weapons prowess is ruined because I had to saved by the shamed boy from the whorehouse who can't even wave a sword properly. So he wants to remove me from Dragon Training and get me married to whoever will take me. He said…" Her voice thickened with misery. "He said that if I wanted to be friends with a whore, I should be one myself." He swallowed. "I've done everything he wanted, Hiccup. I know he wanted a son and for years and years, he thought I was to be their only child. So he drove me to become the best warrior I could be. He wanted me to become a Shield Maiden…I thought to protect Berk but now, it seems, to drive up my bride price. And just as I am getting close to realising my dream, he snatches it away on a whim!"

Tears trickled down her face and instinctively, he inched forward and wrapped his skinny arms around her, hugging her tightly. He felt her face bury in her neck and the damp of her tears on his skin.

"That's not fair," he said angrily. "You are the best warrior-and the best person in this village-except the Chief-yet you're treated so badly for speaking the truth and saving my life."

"That's my sin," she sighed. "My father wants you gone: preferably dead but at least off Berk. And nowhere near me." He hugged her tightly.

"That ship has sailed," he sighed. "Look-can't we get the Chief to insist you go on Dragon Training? You're a great warrior and Berk needs everyone they can get! Your father is depriving the village of a valuable resource!" She pulled back and stared into his face.

"Resource? That's where you're going?" she asked him in surprise. He nodded, looking embarrassed and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.

"Um…a bit low on ideas," he admitted. "But I will ask the Chief to make sure you are in Dragon Training-and not sanction any marriage….for now." She stared into his face.

"That's…" she began and then paused. He was skinny and battered, an outsider and generally ostracised yet he was willing to ask the only person who was kind to him to intervene in his behalf…even though he guessed it may get him into trouble. "That's very sweet," she admitted.

"Um…you're my only friend…well, Fishlegs may be as well," he confessed. "And I would do anything to help you…" There was a sigh and he stared into her face. "He hit you, didn't he?" She nodded.

"I couldn't let him hit my Mom when she stood up for me," Astrid said tonelessly. "It was my decision, my action-and I take responsibility." He immediately looked incredibly guilty and ran his hands miserably through his hair.

"It's all my fault!" he groaned. "If you had just let me accept my fate, you would be safe…"

"And you would be dead!" she argued. "Thor, I couldn't allow that!" She paused. "Because you have done something amazing…something at no one on Berk thought of for three hundred years! And even I can see that it could be the difference between us losing and us surviving!"

"Maybe it was a fluke!" he muttered despondently and she punched him gently in the shoulder.

"And maybe it wasn't," she replied. "Hiccup…tomorrow night, we have to get back out there are see that Night Fury." The she sighed and rose, peering up at the hatch. "And I guess I better go back," she said in a dull voice.

"You-you could stay!" he blurted out before he could stop himself…and she turned her head to inspect him, a small smile on her face.

"Now that really would send my reputation to Helheim," she smirked and he flushed bright scarlet with shame…but she stood up and slammed the hatch closed. "And I really don't care," she revealed, dropping to her knees by him. "I'm not going back tonight. Gods, I nearly died this morning and all my father cares about is that my reputation and saleability may have been impaired because I was saved by you! Not that I am alive or that I spoke up for the truth-just that I may have ruined his twisted plan!"

"Um…it's not too late," he reminded her but she grabbed a couple of furs and lay down beside him, snuggling up close. Warily, he lay down beside her, facing her. His emerald gaze trailed over the bruise on her face and guilt stabbed his heart once more. "I really am sorry," he murmured. She snuggled against him, wrapped chastely in separate furs as he fidgeted close.

"Mutton-head," she murmured, closing her eyes. "I would rather be here than home, fearing him. I would rather be with the friend who saved my life than the man who sees me only as a possession to be sold." He closed his eyes as well as her breathing deepened.

A little later, Stoick walked up to check on Hiccup-and found the blonde curled up by his small sleeping shape, a little smile curling her lips. Both were securely wrapped separately in furs and he sighed, realising it would cause more complications for the boy.

"Wrong place at the wrong time doing exactly the wrong thing," he sighed, retrieving another fur and tucking it gently over both the teens. "I heard your problems, lass-and I'll make sure you do your Dragon Training. It's the least I can do for you for everything you've done for Hiccup."

And then he gently blew out the candle, leaving the darkness to wrap around the two youngsters. There would be enough trouble in the morning-so tonight, he would allow them some peace.