Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Disney/Dreamworks/Game of Thrones characters, locations, and/or terms. I am just a humble weaver unraveling cloths of stories to thread together and create a new pattern. If you would like to read the info and details of this fic, or if you are confused about some characters' names, you may go to the Preface section. Thank you!

HICCUP

The practice sword barely missed his head. A drop of Hiccup's sweat ran down his face and dripped onto the blade. He almost let out a cry of relief.

"Very good, Lady Astrid," Ser Phoebus complimented. He circled the frozen forms of Hiccup and his sparring partner. "Back to starting positions."

Breathing a sigh, Hiccup straightened from the awkward twist of his body that allowed him to dodge the sword. He stared across at Astrid, who was of his age and the daughter of Lord Hofferson, commander of the City Watch. Her thick hair the color of corn was braided down her back, the boiled leather armor she wore hiding her slim frame. She was sent from Berk five years past, along with Hiccup's own cousin Snotlout, son of the Lord Commander, the twins Tuffnut and Ruffnut, and the plump Fishlegs, who had been named so for not being able to stand properly on land but had the best balance out at sea. Before Hiccup had left for Thronos, he grew up with them on Berk, where he was no more the child of the king than they were.

"Your Highness, I would suggest raising the defense on your left." Phoebus raised Hiccup's right arm, pulling so it rested across his body down to his left side. "Try that. Swing sideways to block, swipe forward to parry, and follow up with an underhand."

Hiccup heard the words without truly absorbing the meaning. He just looked at the master-at-arms with a nod and assumed the stance. His heart pounded against his chest. He never was good with swords, even in Berk when it was all play. All he could do was offer up a prayer to the Fisherman that Astrid would finally take pity on him and let him leave with only a swat to the cheek.

"Ready, Your Highness?" Astrid said, lifting the sword to an attack position. Hiccup knew she preferred the axe to a sword. She was better with it too, but she had easily picked up on the southron way of fighting that one could not tell the difference. Not that Hiccup had a chance in defeating her with either.

"When you are," he tried to keep his voice level, and his arm from shaking.

The morning bell tolled. Hiccup let his arm fall to his side. Ser Phoebus looked up in the direction of the bells. "I suppose that shall be where we will stop for the day. Perhaps we could resume this sparring session on the morrow." He took the practice sword from Hiccup. "Good day to you all."

"Perhaps the prince would like to come early on the morrow," Snotlout muttered once Phoebus had entered the armory. "Then we all wouldn't have to waste our mornings waiting for him just to get his ass trampled by a girl."

Astrid smacked Snotlout upside the head. "Respect, Snotlout."

"To be fair to Astrid, I couldn't tell who was the girl in that fight," Tuffnut elbowed Snotlout, and the two of them sniggered. "My sister's nose hair looks more manly than the pri—ooofff!"

"Oh, I am terribly sorry, my lord," Astrid said, mock worry etched all over her face, an empty metal sword scabbard pushed into Tuffnut's abdomen. "I don't know how this silly thing found itself in your gut."

Hiccup watched them from the corner of his eye as he took off the chain mail and armor. Tuffnut swat away the scabbard, and it flew to the ground, spinning to a stop. He bumped into Astrid before striding away to the dining hall. Snotlout offered a half-hearted bow before running after him. Ruffnut shook her head and let the armor just fall to the ground, then she too followed her twin. Fishlegs bit his lip and shuffled away. Only Astrid was left in Hiccup's company.

Glancing around at her, Hiccup spoke in her direction. "That was an… illuminating spar, Astrid. I pray we will have the same experience on the morrow, if not more." He was letting his mouth run away from his mind again, this time without his father's presence to stop him.

"Spare me the pleasantries." Astrid picked up the scabbard and stuck it in a sword rack on the wall. "You know as much as I do that my last attack could have been a strike to your head. It would do well to drill yourself even in your own chambers, Your Highness."

"Please, no more of this 'Your Highness' nonsense." Hiccup waved the words away with a laugh that sounded too high-pitched. "We grew up together, there is no need for such titles. I would no more have called you a lady in private than you would have called me prince."

Astrid walked up to him. She was so close Hiccup could make out the beads of sweat on her brow. "We are no longer in Berk, Your Highness. Anything that there was can no longer be." They held each other's gaze for a moment, and then she passed him, heading to the dining hall.

Hiccup kicked a fallen helm. It clattered away, hitting the wall to bounce back.

He decided to skip the morning meal, even with the enticing aroma of the food wafting from the dining hall. He instead made his way to the blacksmith's behind the armory. He stopped at the doorway to watch the smith hammer away at a newly forged sword. Jim was one of several men from the previous reigning house Leolin who was retained at Thronos for his skills. Men like Ser Phoebus, who was a commander of the guard a few years before but due to an injury had to be relieved of his position and taken on as master-of-arms to teach Hiccup and the children of the highborn from Berk. Rumors circulated the Haddock household that Jim was born across the sea and had discovered an island of treasure, but went to war alongside the Leolin forces from across the sea in a battle that came to be known as the Crossing Rebellion. He was captured by Haddock men, but found that he had a gift for forging, and was employed.

Imprisoned, Hiccup thought. Jim had very little freedom, never allowed out of the castle, and, until recently, was kept chained at his own forge, under the watchful eye of at least two guards who would take away the weapons that had been finished.

"Your Highness," Jim said, not taking his eyes off his work. "What would you like to make this wonderful day?"

"Do you still have my designs?" Hiccup entered the dim workplace, the fires from the forge the only source of light. "It's been a while since I've been here."

"I can hardly blame you, m'lord. With the entire realm at your celebration, it would be difficult to steal away to a place like this." Jim set down his hammer and tongs and walked to a metal cupboard in the corner. He pried it open and took out a bundle of papers bound in a leather sleeve. He then handed it to Hiccup before returning to the sword.

Hiccup untied the leather binding and flipped through the papers. This was where he found strength. He had always said to Gobber that he would rather be a blacksmith than a lord's son. Now that his father had left for Berk, Hiccup was expected to seat the throne, receive the guests, make decisions for the better of the realm and its people. Such things would consume his time, and he would not be able to be here in what he calls his sanctuary. Jim saw that they shared the same gift, and he allowed the prince to stay, teaching him the craft. Hiccup had since kept his own designs of armors and weaponry hidden with Jim.

"What do you think of a winged suit?" Hiccup mused. A lot of times he would tell the smith his ideas, asking for suggestions and opinions, and was taken seriously in return. He had spoken to Gobber about his ideas before, the Hand being a blacksmith himself before the Haddock Rebellion who first taught Hiccup about forging, but Gobber had just laughed in his face.

"You would have to find a high place to jump off from," Jim answered. "I highly doubt the king would consent with you climbing to the highest tower and leaping to a possible death."

"Such is the truth," he muttered, his thoughts abandoning the winged suit and studying the sword he had drawn up two moons ago. He pulled out a piece of charcoal from an attachment at the side of the leather binding and sketched away at the drawing, adding notes on materials and forging processes. The rhythm of the hammer beating the metal and the scratches of the charcoal on the paper filled in the silence.

"Or perhaps this flaming-"

"Pardon, Your Highness."

Hiccup looked up from his perch on the table across the doorway. A pageboy whose name escaped him stood there, eyes averted. "The Lord Hand wishes to see you."

"He does?" Hiccup inserted the charcoal back in its place and slammed the leather binding on the papers shut. "Did he say what else he wanted?"

"No, Your Highness," the pageboy shuffled back and forth. "M'lord Hand just insisted you come to him at once."

Sorting through his mind for what reason Gobber had to send for him, Hiccup tied the leather cord around the binder and handed it back to Jim, who gave him a small nod and returned the binder back to its place in the cupboard. He gestured for the pageboy to lead the way.

The boy walked through the armory with Hiccup trotting behind him. They passed the dining hall, where the clamor of the morning meal had already decreased to a murmur, and the annex courtyard where just a few days past his father had gathered the men to accompany him back to Berk.

"Where are we going?" Hiccup asked as they rounded the castle to the gardens.

"We are going to a very important meeting," Gobber answered for the boy, who had taken his leave and disappeared in the blink of an eye. "I don't suppose you have already forgotten why I called for you."

Hiccup stared at him, his mind still muddled from earlier in the day. "Perhaps you could remind me?"

Gobber steered him to the archway that was the entrance of the large garden. From their position they could clearly see the line of stone benches. On the one closest to the archway sat a lady in emerald green, her bright red and curly hair pulled back from her face by a gold circlet engraved with running bears, wringing her hands impatiently.

"Fisherman be damned." Hiccup cursed under his breath, and Gobber pinched him on the ear.

How could he have forgotten? It had already been close to three weeks since the start of late morning walks with the Lady Merida Dunbroch. His betrothed, he could scarcely believe it. "Has she been waiting long?" He hadn't even changed from his practice clothes full of sweat and dirt.

"Forgive the bluntness, Hiccup, but you are a fool to have asked that." Gobber pushed Hiccup forward. "Now go apologize for your delay."

"And then what will I say?"

"Make up a story, I don't know. I have never charmed a lady, as you can tell."

Hiccup scowled at him, but Gobber had pushed him again, so he stumbled out from their hiding place and almost fell forward had he not regained his balance at the last possible moment. Merida looked around, alarmed. Hiccup managed a slightly dignified bow. "Apologies, my lady. I took too long in breaking my fast. The bacon was exceptionally good this morning with the mutton I could hardly keep my hands off my plate." Fisherman, take me now, he added in his mind.

The look Merida gave him seemed to border on confusion and disgust. "Shall we have that walk?" she spoke slowly.

"Of course!" he offered his arm to her, and she tentatively placed her hand on it.

They took their usual route in the garden, down the rose path, followed by the bluebells, and then the daisies. They were at the heart of the garden when Hiccup finally decided to break the silence.

"I did not actually come from the dining hall," he said. If he was going to be tied to this lady she may as well know what kind of person she was marrying. "Nor did I have my morning meal. I was…" he paused, both in speaking and walking. Merida turned to him, genuine curiosity on her face. "I was at the smith. I mostly spend my time there, drawing up designs for weapons. And before that I was beaten by Lady Astrid at a practice sword bout."

Hiccup looked at Merida, trying to decipher her reaction, which did not show much. He gulped. Most, if not all, of their walks were spent with nothing to talk about, and if there were subjects breached, always about how hot the weather was, how beautiful the flowers were in bloom.

"Perhaps the sword is not for you?" Merida said with an incline of her head.

"Perhaps…" Hiccup was amazed that she had responded in a way he did not expect.

"Are—are there no other weapons you have managed to master?" she stammered.

He did not know what to make of this question. No man, let alone lady, had bothered to ask him that. "I suppose not. I was only ever trained with a sword, or an axe, or a mace. The last two are particularly common in Berk."

"And archery?" her eyes sparkled at its mention.

"No, I was never…" Hiccup saw her face fall ever so slightly. "Are you skilled in archery?" he ventured.

For the first time he saw her smile widely. "Lady Mulan herself said I was better than her at this age. But," her smile faltered. "My mother believes I should not be doing such things."

Merida looked away, gazing at the castle but not really seeing it. He had struck something in her. "Well, your family is still all the way in the Highlands. Will you teach me?"

She snapped her head back to him. "What?"

"Will you teach me? Now?"

"Now?" she gaped at him, but he was truly serious. He smiled at her.

"Where is it do you usually practice? Although we can always go to the practice range by the armory-"

"I know a perfect place!" Merida exclaimed, and she tugged at his hand. "It's just at the edge of the woods. Not far from the castle, but just enough that we wouldn't be seen. Let us just get my bow and arrows at my chambers, if it pleases Your Highness," she suddenly remembered her courtesies and composed herself.

"No, please, I am your apprentice for today, and you the master," Hiccup let her drag him to the castle. Even if this betrothal was not where his heart was, if they were to be wed, then he may as well make their lives a little more at ease with each other.

A/N: Late upload because our internet service provider decided to have a system maintenance over the weekend so we didn't have any connection -_-

Thanks so much to winterwolfofwesteros for the follow!

Decided to capitalize the word "Fisherman" starting from this chapter onwards to differentiate it from the common term "fisherman". Still thinking of capitalizing "shooting star" but since it isn't an occupation or any other common term, I might just keep it as is.

Reviews would be lovely :) Thanks!