Update 11/24/2018: Not a lot changed because this chapter, which is still one of my favorites, didn't need to change much. I fixed typos and grammar mistakes, changed some clunky wording here and there, and adjusted a line about Night Fury shot limits.

Warning: ANGST. JUST LOTS OF ANGST. As well as references to adult content, sort of. Basically chapter three comes back to haunt them.

Title from "Little Lion Man" by Mumford and Sons, because that's like, Hiccup's anthem in this story.


Chapter 13: It Was Your Heart on the Line

Arvid stared at the paper held in his shaking hands.

"When did you receive this?" he asked, voice low and trembling with the effort of staying calm.

Stoick cleared his throat. "It arrived about a week after he took her."

Arvid's eyes snapped to his chief. "A week after?" he said, his voice rising in volume. "You received this a week after Astrid was taken?" He got to his feet, the wrinkled parchment crushed in his fist. "You've known for over a month that my daughter was still alive?" Stoick looked down at him impassively and Arvid didn't care that he was shouting at his chief now. "For a month, over a month, nearly two months now, you've known that my daughter, my baby girl, was still alive and you said nothing to either me, or my wife about it?!"

Stoick's eyes dropped to the floor. "I thought it would only upset you."

"Upset me?" Arvid growled. "You think it would upset me to know that my daughter was still alive?!"

Stoick met his eyes again, frowning. "Arvid, if that monster is keeping Astrid alive then you know what he is keeping her alive for."

"I know," Arvid said, his voice cracking. "I know what it is that's happening to my daughter. I've known that was likely since the beginning. I told myself it was the price we had to pay for peace. I thought that maybe it was a worthy cost, to give up one daughter in order to raise another one in a safer world." He took a deep breath and his fists tightened. "But that demon took my daughter and we're still seeing dragons in our skies. You've known for over a month that Astrid lives and you've done nothing to try to get her back. If that man isn't going to leave us alone then I want my daughter back." He stepped closer until they were nearly nose to nose. "And you're going to get her back."

Stoick raised a bushy eyebrow. "How exactly do you suggest I do that?"

"Ask him."

There was a sharp bark of disbelieving laughter. "Ask him? What, demand he return her? You think that would work?"

Arvid shrugged, still glaring at his chief. Respect be damned, this was his child's life they were talking about. "I don't know if it would work. I don't claim to know the mind of a man who controls dragons. Probably it wouldn't but maybe it would. He refused her at first, remember? It wasn't until that bastard Spitelout threatened to kill her that he stepped in. Maybe if we showed him that we wanted her back he'd bring her back, I don't know. But we have to do something." His lip curled as he stared with disgust at his chief. "You have to do something. As soon as the ice melts, we hunt down the nest."

Stoick sighed. "How many times have we sailed for the nest and never gotten close, Arvid?"

Arvid's eyes narrowed. "How many times did Gobber ask you the same question after Hiccup died?"

The transformation the chief's face underwent in that moment was astounding. The tired, resigned frown of a chief who knew he couldn't help one of his people contorted into a fierce scowl.

His voice was a low rumble when he next spoke. "My son has nothing to do with this."

"Hah!" Arvid shook his head. "Your son has everything to do with this, Stoick! You think I don't know why you chose my daughter? You were never the same after your son died, Stoick, everyone knows that." He tossed his hands uselessly. "And no one could blame you much for that. You held it together after what happened to Valka because you had that baby, but we all know how much it hurt you when that poor boy died." Arvid paused to take a deep breath, his throat getting tighter. "But your son died a hero, Stoick. He died saving my daughter." Stoick's eyes shifted to the side, and Arvid knew he had him. "While you were mourning your son my little girl was tearing herself to pieces with the guilt of it all, and it wasn't helping that you made it clear you blamed her." He shoved a finger in Stoick's face. "Hiccup died a hero, and how did you honor his sacrifice?"

"I'm warning you, Arvid," Stoick said, his voice dangerously calm. "Leave my son out of this."

"Look at me, Stoick!" Arvid shouted, and his chief obliged. "Your son died to save my daughter's life! And you repaid his heroism by offering up the girl he died for to a monster." He could feel the hot tears blurring his vision and running down his cheeks into his beard. "The whole village knew you were ashamed of your son, Stoick. But if he saw what you've done to my Astrid, to the girl he died for," he said, his voice broken and shaking, "Then I think he'd be the one ashamed of you."

Stoick lips twisted. "And are you winning any father of the year awards, Hofferson?" he said, voice rising in volume. "When we came for Astrid it didn't take you long to agree."

Arvid's mouth fell open. "How dare you? I thought I was doing the best thing for my village."

"And I'm sure the money had nothing to do with it?"

"The money?!" Arvid yelled. "The money?! How dare you, Stoick, how fucking dare you!" His hands balled so tight his short nails cut into his palms.

"How dare I?" Stoick thundered, stepping forwards and crowding into Arvid's personal space. "My son died because I failed to protect him. Because your daughter failed to protect him. My failings as a father were many, I'll not deny that, but I never sold my child."

He didn't care that it was foolish. He didn't care that it could be considered treason or cost him his freedom or even his life. Arvid didn't care about much of anything. His fist swung forward and hit the side of his chief's face, knocking his head to the side. The force knocked Stoick less than half a step back, and when he looked at Arvid again his eyes were alight with anger.

"Hofferson, I'm warning you-"

"And I'm warning you!" Arvid jabbed a finger in Stoick's face. "Don't you dare judge me for this," he hissed. "You're the one who came to me. You're the one who made the offer, who told me this would work. You made me feel like I couldn't say no, like I was condemning the village to turn this down. You're my chief, and I believed in you, in what you said would happen. I believed this would bring peace." He shook his head, hot tears burning his eyes. "You of all people don't get to condemn me for this. And as for the money?" He dug into a pocket of his vest and pulled out a bag which he tossed to the floor at Stoick's feet. It burst open and metal coins clinked and clattered across the ground. "You can have the livestock back too," Arvid said. "I don't want anything bought with my daughter's blood."

Stoick said nothing. He just glared at Arvid, fists clenched at his side, every bit as cold and stoic as his name implied. Arvid turned on his heel and stomped towards the door, his heavy footsteps echoing in the empty Meade Hall. He stopped with his hand on the door handle and sighed. "You know, Stoick," he said, voice more disappointed than angry, "You used to be my friend. My chief, the man I'd gladly follow anywhere, even to the gates of Valhalla. But you haven't been that man in a long time." He glanced over his shoulder. "I think maybe when your boy died you died with him."

Stoick stood in the empty hall for a long time after Arvid left. He stared at his feet, at the coins spilled over his boots. He looked to the walls, where hung the portraits of chiefs and their heirs all the way back to the founding of Berk, generations upon generations of Haddock fathers and sons, ending with the painting of himself and his own father. They'd never gotten around to doing one of him and Hiccup. He'd meant to; he'd planned on doing it after Hiccup's fight with the Monstrous Nightmare. His boy was finally a hero, finally becoming the man Stoick had hoped he'd be. Stoick would be able to look on the portrait with pride.

He wished now he'd done it sooner.

He wondered how many years it would take for the image of his son's face to fade and blur in his memory. Years gone by and he had precious few clear images left of Valka, he couldn't imagine the same thing happening with his son. Hiccup's face rose easily in his mind's eye now: that crooked smile set in a face covered with freckles, those big green eyes, wide and clear like Valka's. His nose, Val's cheekbones. Haddock red hair. Small and scrawny with a smile as big as the sky.

Stoick sank into the chair behind him.

Arvid was probably right. His only son was gone and—no, it was more than that. Ever since Valka had died and even more since he'd lost Hiccup, village elders and councilmen had tried to encourage him to remarry. You're not an old man yet, they'd said. There will be other sons, other heirs.

But only one Hiccup. Stubborn and headstrong and sarcastic and disastrous and absolutely wonderful.

Hiccup had died, and Stoick had died with him.

Xx

Astrid peered through the cracked door, watching as a couple of warriors sprinted past, mace and warhammer held high. As soon as they were gone she slipped out the door and around the side of the Great Hall's kitchens, slinking into the darkness at the back of the building. Most of the action was happening on the other side of the village; the farms were on the opposite side of the island, and therefore so was most of the fighting.

Also far across the island, unfortunately, were the woods where she needed to be to meet Hiccup after the raid was over. Getting from the woods where Hiccup had dropped her off to the Great Hall and its kitchen's larder had been easy enough. There were houses lined up almost flush to the base of the cliffs of Greed's Rock Island, and the dark alley behind them had provided her with plenty of cover.

Now, however, a few of those houses were on fire, and she was weighed down by the food and goods stuffed into the pockets of her cape. Astrid pulled the hood over her head and held the cape carefully closed as she took off through the village, staying close enough to the action that passersby would be too busy to give her much notice, but far enough away to keep out of the line of fire.

She'd gotten everything they needed, at least. It had been an easy steal; animal products, mostly. Hiccup had neither the space nor patience for livestock; looking after a dragon was work enough. Milk, eggs, cheese, a few cuts of meat small enough to stuff in her pockets; as well as grains and vegetables they didn't have room to grow on the island, as well as some sweet pastries, just because.

Astrid turned around a building and skidded to a halt, turning to duck into the alleyway between two houses. The men had pulled out some sort of giant metal trap and had captured a Monstrous Nightmare which was roaring and thrashing against the steel bars that held it. One of the men raised an axe, its edge glinting in the firelight, poised and ready to silence the Nightmare's roars once and for all.

There was only a second's warning, the tell-tale high-pitched scream and the men's shout of "Night Fury!" before the scene exploded in purple light. When the smoke cleared the Nightmare was spreading its wings and flapping away from the twisted remains of the trap, the men who had held him shouting and cursing at the shadow who had already disappeared into the skies.

"That's five," Astrid whispered to herself. Across the village there was another eruption of purple light. "Six." She frowned. "Oh boys, you're running through them too quickly; you've only got ten." She emerged on the other side of the alleyway and crept quickly between two rows of houses. She turned a corner and could see the treeline just ahead when she heard screams close by. She caught a whiff of something acrid and sharp and turned in time to see the Zippleback ignite the home it had just filled with its flammable gas. It was close enough that the force knocked her off her feet, jostling the jar of milk but thankfully breaking no more than maybe a couple of eggs.

The house was quickly being consumed with flame.

Astrid had just climbed to her feet again when a man ran past, nearly knocking her to the ground again. "No!" He yelled, disregarding the fire as he hacked at the flaming door with his axe.

"Gulbrand!"

"Gul, wait!"

Astrid flattened herself to the wall of the nearest building, hastily pulling up her hood as a group of men barreled past her to pull the man back from the flaming home.

"No!" he shouted, fighting the arms that held him back. "They're still in there! Ragna and the children, they're still in there!"

Astrid's hand clapped to her mouth.

"Gulbrand it's too late, we can't get in there!"

She caught sight of the black shape just a second before it crashed into the roof.

"What was that?" One of the men asked, all five of them freezing. Purple light burst out of the side of the house, and after a moment four children, the oldest a girl of about twelve or thirteen, the youngest a baby no more than a year old and being carried by the older girl, came running out of the hole in the house towards the man who must have been their father.

"Daddy!"

"Dad!"

"Sweet Freya above!" The man collapsed to his knees and flung out his arms, two of the children, a girl and a boy, perhaps around five and eight respectively, threw themselves into his arms. "Ylva, Eirik!" The older girl reached him and he stood to hug her and the baby. "Selby, oh you dear girl, you got baby Gyda." His smile faded. "Where's your mother?"

The oldest girl shook her head. "I don't know. We heard the dragon filling the house with gas, and Mama was right behind me on the stairs when everything exploded."

They all looked towards the burning house. There was a terrible groaning noise of wood giving way, and then the whole building collapsed in on itself.

"RAGNA!"

No one noticed the shadowy figure that shot out of the roof just as it caved in.

"Mama!" The oldest girl shrieked. The baby started crying and Astrid watched, horrified and frozen to the spot as the children huddled together around their oldest sister. Their father had lunged towards the wreckage again and was now being held back by the other men.

"Ragna!" He shouted, and in the blazing light Astrid could see tears pouring down into his beard. "Ragna, no! My wife, oh my darling Ragna, no! No!"

"Selby?" Astrid watched the oldest girl look down at her little brother, who was staring up at her with tear-filled eyes. "Selby, Mama got out right? She had to get out right? She got out before us? Didn't she?"

Astrid couldn't watch anymore. She turned on her heel and ran for the tree line.

Xx

Hiccup, as expected, said nothing the whole flight home, no matter how she tried to coax him to speak.

"You saved those kids," she tried, her arms squeezing his torso, and she wished he'd take his helmet off so she could see his face and kiss his cheek. "And you tried to save their mother, that counts for something. Four children are alive because of you, focus on that. And that Nightmare, you saved it too."

Hiccup didn't reply. His hands tightened on the handles of Toothless's saddle, and Astrid noticed the round green eyes that kept sending glances their way, a worried groan rumbling in the dragon's throat.

When they arrived back at the mountain Hiccup starting ripping off his mask and armor and tossing it to the side, his face still and impassive. Astrid watched him for a moment before heading to the kitchen to put away the stolen food. When she returned Hiccup was sitting by the bed and staring at the fire with empty eyes, Toothless's head in his lap. Astrid sighed. "Hiccup? You wanna talk about it?" He didn't answer. She sat down beside him and started kissing and nibbling at his ear. "You wanna not talk about it?" she whispered, but he leaned away.

"Not really," he said tersely, and Astrid gave up, figuring he'd open up in time. She was too tired to do anything more than pull off her leggings and untie her braid before she collapsed into the furs. She propped herself up on her elbow and trailed a hand across Hiccup's shoulders.

"Hey, babe, come to bed. You need some rest."

"I will in a bit," Hiccup said, his voice flat. He shot her a smile over his shoulder that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You go ahead, get some sleep. You too, bud." He gave the dragon one more scratch behind the ears and then got to his feet. "I'll be back. Just uh, just gonna get some water before bed."

Astrid nodded and settled back into the cushions and before long she was fast asleep.

Xx

She was awoken by moist kisses and hot breath behind her ear. She groaned and tried to roll over, and heard a snigger behind her as she blinked her eyes open. The body keeping her from rolling over shifted, and she stared groggily up at Hiccup. He was shirtless and watching her with a strange glint in his eyes, and once she was feeling more lucid she noticed he was swaying slightly. Astrid yawned and sat up.

"Hiccup?" She rubbed at her eyes. "Babe, what's up?" He didn't answer. His eyes flickered down over her, then back to her own. "Hiccup?"

His hand reached out and buried itself in the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her to him. He pressed his lips to hers in a hard kiss and she knew immediately what was wrong. She could taste the alcohol on his lips, smell it on his breath. He reeked of it. She tried to pull away. "Hic-" he yanked her back to him, his tongue invading her mouth and she could taste whatever he'd been drinking. It was strong, whatever if had been. Strong and bitter and she pulled away again, her hands rising to hold Hiccup at bay when he tried to follow her.

He whined, his eyes still closed and lips still halfheartedly puckered. "Aaaasstriiid."

She huffed. "You've been drinking."

He tried to push forward, but she leaned back. "Only a little bit."

"You're drunk."

His eyes opened to glare at her. "I'm tipsy. Ish. That's all. I've had a rough night. Come here." He pushed past her hands and grabbed her waist. "I wanna not talk about it." She barely had time to protest before he was crushing her to his chest and kissing her again. She made a noise of surprise and disagreement as he dragged her onto his lap, where she could feel a semi-enthusiastic erection he was probably too drunk to raise all the way. She struggled against him but his arms had turned into a vice around her waist.

Finally she managed to tear her lips away from his. "Hiccup, stop, what the hel has gotten into you?!"

Hiccup heaved a sigh and his head fell into her shoulder. "I need you," he murmured into her neck, placing a kiss against the tender skin there. In spite of her anger she shivered at the sensation. "I've had a bad night and I need you."

Astrid glared at the top of his head. "I told you, Hiccup, I'm not one of your fisherman's daughters."

He tittered into her neck. "I know," he said, then lifted his head to look at her out of half-lidded eyes. "I'm not asking for sex," he said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. "Just for whatever you're willing to give me." His smirk grew as he swayed towards her but Astrid scowled and shoved him away, disgusted. He fell into the pillows, groaning.

"Aaaastriiiid," he moaned and pouted up at her.

Astrid got to her feet and glared down at him. "I don't know what you think this is," she said, her voice shaking with anger, "But I am not here to be your, your plaything." Her hands balled into fists. "If you really like me, that's one thing. And if you need someone to talk to when things go badly, then yes, I'm here for you. But I'm not gonna let you just use me because you've had a bad night. And just because you're drunk and upset doesn't mean you can ignore me when I fucking tell you no."

Hiccup glowered up at her.

"Gods, you're so hot-and-cold, you know that?"

Astrid gaped at him. "I'm what?"

Hiccup pushed himself onto his elbows. "You want me, and then you don't," he said, words slurring together. "Sometimes I wonder if you really want me at all."

Astrid didn't know what to say that. She really didn't think the words existed. Her foot reared back and she kicked Hiccup hard in the stomach. Without her boots on it lacked the same punch, but her toes jabbing into his side still had Hiccup grunting and clutching at his side in pain. Astrid picked up a fur blanket and tucked a pillow under her arm.

"What are you doing?" Hiccup asked.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What does it look like I'm doing?" She snapped. "I'm not sleeping in here tonight, not when you're acting like this." She started to walk away, and in half a breath Hiccup was on his feet. She heard him rise but didn't have time to respond before he had grabbed her wrist and jerked her to a stop. She spun to face him, and the look on his face froze her. He was glaring at her, mouth twisted into a snarl, a cold, hard glint in his eyes she hadn't seen in such a long time she had almost convinced herself it didn't exist. She tried to pull her wrist away but he tightened his grip.

"Hiccup?" Her voice shook. "Hiccup, let go." He still said nothing, but his hand squeezed her wrist so tightly it hurt, and she whimpered and tried to pull it away again. "Hiccup!"

Something shifted. His expression softened, his eyes widening and he looked down at his hand as if he couldn't believe it belonged to him. His grip slackened and she pulled her hand away and cradled it against her chest.

He blinked at his hand while she stared at him, eyes hot and wet.

"Astrid," he started, voice hoarse, but she shook her head and backed away.

"Don't come near me," she said, unsteady words forced through clenched teeth. She turned on her heel and all but ran from the room, Toothless's questioning coos following her.

She held it together until she stumbled into the forge where a low fire was still burning. Her knees hit the cold stone floor and she choked on a sob.

How could she have been so stupid? So naive? Gods, she was an idiot. It was the same mistake she'd been making since the beginning, forgetting that the boy Hiccup had been and the man he was now were two different people. He'd lived a hard life and it had turned him into a hard man. She knew the boy from the forge was inside him somewhere, but he was buried too deep; that wasn't who he was anymore.

This Hiccup was defined by his temper and his vices; the drinking and the fucking and whatever else he used to dull the pain.

She was just one more thing he reached for when it all became too much.

She wanted to hate him. She wanted to hate him for being so wonderful one minute and so cruel the next. She wanted to hate him for making her fall for him while she still wasn't sure what this relationship really meant to him. Did he really care about her like he had claimed to or was she just another distraction?

She wanted to hate him, but she couldn't, and that was the worst part of all. She hated herself for falling for him, for wanting him despite everything. Even with his temper and his drinking problem and that hard, cold look in his eyes and the bruise forming on her wrist she wanted him.

Her first day here he'd terrified her and plunged her into fear when he'd made her believe that he'd rape her. And somehow along the way all his kind smiles and little gestures had made her forget how scared she'd been. He'd shown her a new world, opened her eyes to new possibilities and a new way of living.

And tonight he'd hurt her.

Astrid wrapped the fur blanket around herself and curled up on the hard floor, still sniffling. She still wanted him. The good and the bad, she still wanted him. He was wonderful. He was terrible. He was kind, he was cruel. And she still wanted all of him.

Xx

It was the shivering that woke her the next morning. The forge fire had burned out and the room had cooled to such a frigid temperature that even under the heavy fur blanket she was freezing.

Astrid managed to pull herself to her feet and reignite the flame. Her hands shook on the bellow as she coaxed the fledgling fire to life but soon she had a fire large enough to thaw her frozen fingers. It was early morning light, she guessed, judging by the light trickling through the distant holes in the ceiling.

Astrid felt empty, like she'd been hollowed out. The bruise on her wrist had risen to a dull purple tinged with green, and while it was tender to too much pressure it didn't hurt otherwise. She leaned back against one of the worktables with a long sigh, and heard a dull thud behind her. She turned to see that she'd knocked over a few things, one of which was a book that had fallen open on the floor.

She reached down to pick it up and paused. Looking up at her from one page was a stunning charcoal drawing of Toothless. She picked up the book and hesitated for a moment before flipping through it. She'd avoided reading Hiccup's journals since they'd started becoming friends, but surely there was nothing too wrong with flipping through to see his drawings.

And given his behavior last night she wasn't sure she cared about his privacy right now.

She flipped through and caught glimpses of sketches of Toothless, drawings of landscapes, and then, to her surprise, a drawing of herself. It was no mere rough sketch either; like the drawing of Toothless that had grabbed her attention it was elaborate and detailed, and more importantly recent.

She was drawn from the bust up, leaning over, given the way her hair was falling, an expression of soft curiosity on her face. Her hair was loose and flowing over her shoulder, and Hiccup had drawn every shine and gentle curl perfectly. She knew when this was from. This was from that night she'd found Hiccup in the kitchen after he'd had a nightmare he wouldn't tell her about.

A single word on the opposite page caught her eye, and she read the sentence it was in just to make sure she hadn't misread it. Then she read the whole page, just to make sure this was really happening.

She's going to be the death of me. She just is. She's driving me insane and I don't know what to do about it. About her. I don't know what I'm going to do with her, and I feel like an idiot because I should have thought about all this before I took her in the first place. At the time all I was thinking was that I had to save her, and now she knows too much and I can't trust her not to spill everything if I take her back. I don't know what to do, and in the meantime I worry that one of us is going to snap and kill the other one in their sleep. Well, I say that, but it is starting to get better between us.

I thought I was over her, you know. I was over her, for so many years. And yet here she is, back in my life, because I forgot for too long that the gods hate me. Of all the girls on Berk they pick Astrid. It's as if they know it's me and decided to go with the girl everyone knew I had a crush on. She's no different than she was back then. She's just older and hotter and maybe therein lies the problem. How can I not want her still, when she looks like that? Maybe she's a huldra and trying to seduce me with magic? Except I've seen her back, and it's not hollow. She always had the best ass on Berk and now she's just older and it got better.

But it's more than that. I don't just want to fuck her. I mean I do want to fuck her, how could I not, but I don't just want to fuck her. I won't go so far to say that I'm falling for her, but there's something there that's more than lust and annoyance. I don't know what it is yet, but it's annoying.

Not that it matters either way. I have as much of a chance with her now as I did four years ago. That kiss the first day she was here will be the closest I ever get.

And really, that's probably for the best, because I had the dream again. It was worse this time. Before I just kind of relived what actually happened, but last night was different. Last night I didn't stop. She was screaming and thrashing beneath me and begging me to stop but I didn't. I went through with it.

I want to believe I wouldn't have raped her, but sometimes I wonder if I ever would have.

Astrid reread that sentence five times before she willed herself to keep reading, hoping that he'd explain and she'd discover that he hadn't meant it like that.

It scares me. I don't think I would have done it, and I keep telling myself that. I mean I didn't do it, right? That has to count for something? But for half a second I wanted to. I'm ashamed and scared to say it but I wanted to. I wanted to take her.

She flipped to the next page and continued reading.

I'm scared.

She told me last night that she's scared of me, and really, I guess she has every reason to be. I'M scared of me right now. I'm scared of who I'm becoming. I look at my life and who I am and I don't like it. This isn't what I wanted and this isn't who I wanted to be. But what else is there? I can't go home. I don't want to go home. Part of me wants to take off across the world again, but violence between Vikings and dragons is worse than ever, and now they're offering up virgins to stem the bloodflow? Really? I use to think peace was possible. I use to think maybe one day I'd figure out a way to change everything. Maybe I'd go home and show them all that if I could live with a Night Fury, then we could befriend the dragons instead of fight them.

Stupid, I know. Maybe Mom was right. Maybe Berk just isn't capable of change. I don't want to believe it yet, but maybe she really was right. Astrid has seen Toothless; she's seen that he's not dangerous, that he's my best friend, and she still thinks dragons are dangerous. If I can't change her mind then how am I ever going to change anyone's?

In that moment I wanted to blame Astrid for all of it. I feel like everything is spiraling out my control and for a second I just wanted to take it back. I never used to be a violent person. That was one of my problems; I couldn't kill a dragon when it mattered most. I feel like I could be violent now, if it came to it. Not for good reasons, like defending myself or Toothless, either. I get angry so much easier than I used to. I don't know who I am anymore. Whoever he is I just know I don't like him.

I need a drink.

I need to stop drinking, probably.

Maybe I need to get laid. Although I don't know how much of a good idea that is all things considered. I don't know, I don't want sex right now. Well, I do, but girls always want to talk afterwards, or cuddle, or something, and I don't want any of that right now. I just want to get fucked and get out.

Gods, when did this become my life? No wonder Astrid hates me. I kinda think maybe I hate me.

Astrid's hands shook as she dropped the book on the worktable, her eyes too blurred to keep reading. She wasn't sure she wanted to.

Xx

He was never drinking again.

Well, he was; he said that every time he woke up with a hangover like this but still he reached for a drink after bad raids anyway.

Hiccup groaned and pushed Toothless's head away. His best friend wanted to go flying; hangover be damned. As long as they took it easy maybe he could avoid regurgitating his entire stomach. He sat up and moaned. He couldn't go flying quite yet, could he? He had to make things right with Astrid first, provided she was even still here. He wouldn't have put it past her to flag a passing Timberjack during the night and leave him.

Hiccup pulled on a shirt and gulped down some water while Toothless cackled beside him. When finally he faced his friend he saw Toothless watching him with an annoyed expression. Hiccup frowned. "What?" He received a sharp bark in reply, the kind usually reserved for reprimanding him for doing something stupid. He sighed. "Don't tell me you're mad at me for last night, too?" The growl he got in response seemed to indicate that yes, Toothless was mad at him for last night. Great. Even his dragon was rebuking him for his bad behavior; if that wasn't a sign he'd been the biggest jerk in the North Sea then he didn't know what was.

He was jerked to his feet as Toothless's teeth grasped the back of his shirt and yanked him up. "Hey, what are you—" Toothless nudged him in the back with his head, growling. "Okay, okay, I'm going!" The dragon seemed to know where Astrid was so Hiccup allowed himself to be herded out of the room and down the passageway until they reached the entryway to the forge, where Toothless roughly shoved him into the cave and took off down the tunnel.

Astrid had her back to him, leaning over something on one of his worktables, her hands braced on the wood. He sighed. "Okay, so I have some major apologizing and groveling for forgiveness to do, don't I?"

Astrid whirled around to face him, and Hiccup stopped short. "Don't you come near me," she hissed, her voice shaking. Hiccup stared at her; at the tears streaming down her cheeks, at the twist of her mouth, at the fear and anger etched into the lines on her forehead. His eyes traced down her face to the hand she had stretched out towards him, to the book she held and the drawing on one of its pages.

Oh gods.

He knew which entry she had found.

He took a tentative step forward. "Astrid—"

"Don't come near me!" she yelled, and Hiccup stopped. "What you did last night was bad enough but this?" She shook the journal. "This is, this is…" She wiped at her eyes with a fist.

"Astrid, hold on, just-"

"Start explaining!" she demanded through clenched teeth. "Because that, this, I can't…" she took the book in her hands and began reading aloud. " 'I want to believe I wouldn't have raped her, but sometimes I wonder if I ever would have.' And then, 'But for half a second I wanted to. I'm ashamed and scared to say it but I wanted to. I wanted to take her.'" She looked up at him, and he could see the fear in those wide blue eyes. "What am I supposed to make of that, Hiccup? You said you just wanted to scare me; that's the story you've stuck to time and time again, but you…" Her bottom lip trembled. "You wanted to." Her voice was smaller than he'd ever heard it. "You actually wanted to."

Hiccup tested another step forward, shaking his head. "Astrid, no, that's not what I—"

"I said, don't come near me!" Astrid hurled the book at him and Hiccup ducked barely in time to avoid it colliding with his head.

He held out his hands defensively. "Okay, Astrid, you're mad, I get it, okay? And you have every right to be, but please, just, just let me explain."

"How drunk were you that night?" she asked, and Hiccup blinked at her in confusion.

"Last night? Last night I was—"

"Not last night," she interrupted, her voice biting. "That night before Snoggletog. How drunk were you? Because I was gone, and looking back I'm starting to wonder."

"Astrid, I was hammered! I wasn't as bad as you, no, but I didn't realize you were as drunk as you were, and it wasn't like I was taking advantage! Istopped you!"

Astrid wasn't listening. She was slouching back against the table, her hands braced on the wood, tears flowing freely down her face. "Gods, I'm such an idiot," she moaned, choking back a sob. "I never should have trusted you. I'm so, so stupid…"

Hiccup was at a loss. He'd seen Astrid angry before, seen her upset. He'd even seen her cry, when she'd mourned her parents' betrayal. But this…this was different. Maybe because she was sober? But no, it was more than that. This was Astrid heartbroken, and at his own hands. He'd never seen her so vulnerable. Astrid was always so tough, so abrasive. She'd talked about her village giving her up before, had cracked dark jokes about it, even. It had taken massive quantities of wine to get her to break down before. Yet here she was, walls down, emotions on her sleeve, devastation evident on her face.

She ran a hand through her hair and for the first time he noticed the bruising on her wrists, and his heart dropped into his stomach.

I did this, he thought.

Of course she was vulnerable. She'd been betrayed by her family, by her village, and she had vested in him all the trust she had left to give and he had shattered it. He had hurt her. Physically, even, which was something he hadn't even considered himself capable of. The unbreakable Astrid Hofferson had given him the power to break her because she believed he wouldn't. And here they were.

His throat grew tight. "Astrid?" he tried, his voice wavering. "Astrid please." He wanted to go to her, to take her in his arms and hold her tight but he didn't dare move closer. "I'm sorry, please I'm so sorry." Hiccup struggled with where to start. "I'm sorry for last night. For the way I acted, for hurting you. I…I was drunk, I didn't know what I was doing—"

Astrid scoffed. "Yeah, that's the excuse my cousin's husband used to give every time he beat her black and blue." She glared at him. "You're gonna have to do better than that."

Hiccup floundered. He swallowed and tried again. "You're right," he said, nodding. "You're right. There's…there's no excuse for the way I was last night. I just… I don't know. I don't know." His voice cracked. "I was angry. I was upset and stressed and I just wanted you to make it go away. I didn't mean to hurt you; I never meant to hurt you. I never, ever, wanted to hurt you."

Astrid's expression turned livid and she grabbed a metal cup of pencils off his table and hurled it at him. He managed to shield his face as the cup and pencils hit his head and shoulder. "You never wanted to hurt me?!" she shrieked. "You wrote that you wanted to rape me!"

"No, I-" He felt like his throat was closing up. He didn't know how to tell her, how to make her see. Gods, why did he ever write that down? Why did he ever put those thoughts into the world where she could find them? His eyes squeezed shut. "Yes, okay, yes!" His hands dove into his hair and he gripped the strands so hard it hurt. "For a moment, yes, I wanted to!" His eyes opened and he searched hers; rounded and stunned. His breath all seemed to leave him at once. "But I didn't." He swallowed past the lump in his throat that threatened to strangle him. "I didn't because I wouldn't. That second passed and I knew I wouldn't. I just…" he tossed his arms in the air, shoulders bouncing in a useless gesture that seemed to sum up all the uncertainty and lack of control he felt about his whole life right then. Unable to look at her he dropped his gaze to shadows playing around his feet from the fire. "I was angry. And when I wrote those words I was afraid." He deflated. "What I did to you that day, what I almost did to you that day, those things aren't me, Astrid. And that's what scared me."

His eyes lifted from the stone floor to seek hers, and he saw she was staring at him, wary but curious.

"And what you did last night?" she asked, her voice small and quiet in the large cave. "Was that you?"

Hiccup was silent for a long moment. "If it was then I don't want it to be." Astrid blinked, and he watched one eyebrow rise just a fraction of an inch. He started to take a step forward but Astrid flinched and he stepped back. "Astrid I don't like who I am right now." He shrugged. "I haven't liked who I am for a long time now." That eyebrow continued to rise, curiosity creeping into the suspicion. "I'm scared, Astrid." He bit his bottom lip and his eyes flickered to the ground. "But…but since you've been here, it's been better. I've been better. I've felt more like me." He chanced a look at her. Her eyes had widened, some of the fire fading from her expression. "I think you've been good for me."

She blinked at him for a moment before her eyebrows drew together again. "And what about last night? What the hel was that?"

He winced at her harsh tone. "That was…that was me being an idiot. You make things better, and last night was so rough, I just wanted you to make things better."

Astrid sneered at him. "So, what? You reached for me instead of another flagon of mead?"

"No, I—" He wanted to protest, but ultimately he knew she was right. "Yes, okay, sort of, I did."

He watched Astrid's face crumple, and was soon dodging a box of nails. Astrid's shoulders shook and she curled into herself, arms wrapped tight around her middle. "So that's what I am to you?" she said, her voice trying and failing at anger and instead just coming out broken. "I'm just another distraction from everything that's wrong? Another one of those times where you just wanna, how did you say it? 'Get fucked and get out?' I trusted you." Those blue eyes bore into him, and he could see such pain, such hurt there. Astrid sniffled. "I was falling for you, and you, you just wanted another lay."

Hiccup shook his head and took a few steps forward despite the way it made Astrid shrink into herself. "Astrid, no," he begged, hand outstretched towards her as if she was a frightened wild dragon. "No, that's not what you are to me."

"Then what am I to you?" she demanded. "I know you want to fuck me and you want me to keep your secrets. Beyond that I don't know if I really matter to you at all." Hiccup was shaking his head frantically, wanting to go to her but too afraid to move any closer.

"Astrid…" he trailed off, running his hands through his hair. "You matter to me, okay? You do. I…" he sighed and his shoulders bobbed. "I don't know what to say, alright? I won't say that I'm in love with you, because I'm not yet." He shrugged again, deflating. A hollow ache was settling in the pit of his stomach as he realized he may have damaged this beyond saving. Astrid refused to forgive her village or her family for their betrayal. What were the chances she'd decided not to forgive him for his? "But I like you. I care about you. And…" he chanced a step closer and though her uncertain expression didn't change she didn't back away from him. "If I'm gonna fall in love with anyone it's gonna be you." Astrid's back straightened and the lines on her forehead softened. He took another step toward her. "You don't understand what you mean to me, what you've done. For so long I've been ready to give up. I've felt hopeless, I've felt like maybe people really can't change, maybe it isn't worth trying. But you, Astrid, you…" The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "I watched you change. You make things feel less hopeless.

"I know I can be a jerk. I know I have a temper. But things are better around you…I'm better around you. I feel more like myself around you." Another step, and that hint of hope in her eyes didn't fade. "I need you."

Astrid swallowed and her gaze fell to his feet. "Last night was 'better'?" she asked, the sarcasm mitigated by the post-crying hoarseness.

Hiccup looked away and bit his lip. "Last night was…a fluke. Last night was bad. Just, all around bad. And I'm sorry. I really am so sorry." He looked back at her but she was still staring at the ground. "Please, Astrid, one more chance."

Astrid sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. "I shouldn't want to forgive you as much as I do," she said. Hiccup stepped closer to her and hesitantly reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. Those gorgeous blue eyes opened and he could see the conflict there; how desperately she wanted to trust him and how afraid she was to do so. Hiccup dropped to his knees in front of her and pulled her hands away from her arms.

"Please," he implored quietly, "I've screwed up a lot of things in my life but I have to fix this. I have to fix us." He reached up to cup her cheek and she leaned into his touch, biting her lip. "This matters. You matter. Please, whatever I have to do to fix this, I'll do it, just tell me."

For a moment Astrid said nothing; she stood there and stared at her hand in his.

"Can I trust you?" she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Hiccup reached to the side of his belt, where he'd hung the knife that had been his gift to her. He untied the sheath from his belt and pressed it into her hands. "I wouldn't have given you this if you couldn't." Her hands squeezed so tight around the handle that for a moment her knuckles turned white. Slowly, they relaxed.

All the while her eyes never left his.

"If I say stop you'll listen?"

"Yes, gods yes."

Astrid sighed and lowered herself to her knees. "Don't make me regret this, Hiccup."

He shook his head, relief washing over him, a tension releasing from his shoulders he didn't even know was there, and he couldn't help the half-laugh that escaped his lips. "You won't, Astrid, you'll see."

"Good. Because you ever raise a hand to me again it better be one you don't want to keep."

Hiccup's eyes fell to the bruises on her wrist. Gently he raised the hand to his lips and kissed the purpling skin. "Never, milady."

"And you're really willing to do whatever it takes to fix this?"

"Yes, anything."

"Good. 'Cause you're gonna start by throwing out every drop of alcohol on this island."