Disclaimer: I don't own How To Train Your Dragon or any of the associated characters or settings.

She was fourteen and he was fifteen. It started the night he'd claimed he'd shot down a Night Fury. The whole town had laughed. Snotlout, Ruffnut and Tuffnut had mocked him. But Astrid had wondered. Hiccup was stubborn, determined, bull-headed and clever. He was prone to making mistakes. He was not prone to lying. She didn't want to believe that he was lying. It didn't suit him. But with no evidence, no one could believe that Hiccup had shot down a Night Fury. Maybe if he had chosen some other dragon – a Gronckle, maybe – people might be more inclined to believe him. Astrid might be more inclined to believe him.

Then he'd joined dragon training. It had annoyed Astrid in so many ways; she could list them all.

1) He was trying to be something he wasn't. Again.

2) He didn't seem to be taking it very seriously.

3) He kept putting himself in danger unnecessarily.

4) Which put everyone else in danger unnecessarily.

5) She had to see him every day.

Really it was the fifth annoyance that was her greatest annoyance. He was still small and not very good with his weaponry. He was still stubborn and thoughtful and clever. She still noticed him more than she should. Even though her focus was on being the best – the very best – she couldn't help but be aware of him. She couldn't help but notice when he was in trouble. She couldn't help but get tangled up in his trouble.

The last straw was when she fell on top of him in training. She heard Tuffnut say, "Ooh, love on the battlefield" and that was it. She was angry, so very angry. At Hiccup. At Tuffnut. At the Deadly Nadder that was trying to kill them. At everything and everyone. She couldn`t get her axe out of Hiccup's shield, so she swung the entire mass at the dragon. She didn't miss. She never missed. Then she turned, axe still in hand and shoved it in Hiccup's face.

"Is this some kind of joke to you? Our parents' war is about to become ours. Figure out which side you're on."

She turned before she had a chance to see the hurt in his eyes, before she had a chance to regret losing her temper with him. Again. Hiccup was without a doubt the most frustrating boy she'd ever met. She didn't understand why he couldn't just stay inside and stay safe. Did he have a death wish?

Then she was sure he did because he had a pet dragon. He was riding a dragon. And he was hanging her from a tree. There were so many things wrong with this scenario that she wouldn't even know where to begin. But he hadn't given her a choice. She'd had to begin with hanging on to him for dear life.

She'd opened her eyes once the flying seemed to even out and everything about what she was experiencing was amazing. She was soaring in the air, given a perspective she'd never had before. She was riding on a dragon. A Night Fury. The Night Fury that Hiccup had shot down. She felt so many things then, soaring in the air with her body pressed into Hiccup's thin back. She was glad he wasn't a liar. She was relieved that this was why he was so good with the dragons in dragon training. She was amazed at what he had done and wanted to know how he had done it. She was also surprised that Hiccup's body wasn't as soft and scrawny as she might have assumed. He was a blacksmith, of course. He was small, of course.

He was Hiccup, of course.

When she saw him falling, falling, falling – when she saw Toothless falling, falling, falling – she had fallen, too. It was a dark place she had fallen into. It was a place without Hiccup. A place without the determination in his green, green eyes. It was a place without his laugh and voice and wry humour. It was a place she didn't even want to think about.

Because she didn't want to be without him.

Because she didn't want to lose another person from her life.

Because she was just starting to realize how special Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III was.

Because, because, because.

The sight of Stoick on his knees brought her to her knees. She couldn't show that, of course. She couldn't fall down weeping in the sand. She vowed never to cry again after she'd lost her mother. But she wanted to scream and rage and throw herself into the sand. She wanted to howl at the gods. How could they take him from her when she had only just found him?

But there he was, wrapped in the wings of the Night Fury. Well, most of him. It was practically a Viking rite of passage to lose a limb, wasn't it? There it was – Hiccup had beaten her to that, too. Her heart had stretched up and exploded in her chest. She couldn't show that either, but she was having a hard time thinking of a time when she'd been happier than she was now. She couldn't think of it. It didn't exist.

When she saw him standing there, surrounded by townsfolk, looking very much alive, she felt as though her heart might actually burst. She felt as though this time she might die for sure. It pounded so uncomfortably in her chest. She felt so light and giddy. She didn't really know what to do, so she punched him in the arm.

"That's for scaring me," she heard herself say.

Hiccup winced and grabbed his arm. "Oh, wha- wait, what is it always going to be this way? 'Cause…"

She didn't know why, but she just wanted to silence him. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to show him how much he'd scared her. She wanted to know what it felt like, at least this once. So she did. She kissed him. And it was glorious and wonderful and right. And she wasn't sorry at all.

"…I could get used to it," he said when she let him go.

Astrid smiled and Hiccup smiled and she knew what it was that made her happier than just seeing him alive.