A/N – I was going to warn you about the time skip in the last update, but I forgot, then I uploaded it, and decided that it could wait until now, when it's important. And – you all are awesome. EVERY ONE.

Also, if you're wondering why I'm updating this one sooner than my other stories, Prince Hiccup for example, it's because I had a brain explosion and wrote like five chapters of this story in one day, and I'm not that far ahead on Prince.

Also (2), I'm working hard on getting my novel finished. I set the deadline for March 4 and aim to be uploading it by then, on amazon. I know that self-publishing has a negative rep, but I've spent a long time working on my novel, gone through so many drafts that I lost count, several beta readers, and after getting several dozen rejection letters from agents, who said "it's good, but not what I'm looking for" I decided to go the indie route.

But enough of me – let's go!

Disclaimer – there's a time skip.

X

xxxx Three Years Later xxxx

Chapter 11: The Next Adventure

In her dream, he was there. He spoke without a voice, without words, but she understood him. He understood her. He held her closer, but she always felt too far away.

Astrid stirred; the bright morning light leaked through her closed bedroom window and ran in a golden line down the center of the room. She stretched her arms above her head, images of her dream floating behind her eyes. She'd dreamed about him again.

It was settled. She would see him that morning. She couldn't wait any longer. She hadn't seen him in nearly two weeks.

Astrid pulled her feet out from under the wool blankets. She's slept in her boots that night to ward off the lingering chill. She added another layer to her torso before heading downstairs. At the sound of hasty whispering, she stopped, foot hesitating on the middle stair. Before she could listen, it halted.

Ingrid and Harald stood by the table, with looks on their faces. Astrid knew that look. They'd been talking about her, and didn't want her to hear it. She did what she always did, ignored it.

"Something smells good," Astrid said, eyeing the pot. Fish stew? She wasn't sure. It didn't matter what it was. Her mother didn't make bad food. Astrid filled a bowl and set down at the table. Her parents still stood there, eyes on her. Astrid ate a spoonful, looking between them, and asked slowly, "Is something wrong?"

"No," Ingrid said too fast. "Everything is fine."

Astrid waited for the real answer, but Ingrid turned her attention back to the pot.

"Astrid," Harald said, taking a seat at the table. "You know that I planned to leave come spring."

"Yes." Astrid hadn't forgotten. Even though her father's fearful suspicious had lessened with time, she didn't put it passed him to have a relapse.

"Well," Harald said with a big breath. "I've decided to cancel."

"What?" Astrid asked. "Why?"

Harald and Ingrid looked at one other for a prolonged moment. Harald cleared his throat. "It's not that I don't crave another adventure, but I'm not the young man I used to be. I'm not sure if my body is up to it. I love adventure, but I love my family more. My daughter's grown into a young woman right in front of me. My wife has grown wrinkles."

Ingrid blushed and looked down at the pot, stirring absently.

"We'll still be here when you get back," Astrid said.

"I know," Harald nodded. "But I want to stay here. I've seen the world. I've stated my wanderlust. Now it's time to settle."

Astrid ate the rest of her breakfast while her parents reminisced about younger days, early in their relationship, when Harald left for weeks at a time. It was when they began to talk of his homecoming that Astrid scooted out the door before she heard something she'd rather not. She knew her parents had sex; she existed. But she didn't need to hear the details.

Astrid trudged through the paths in the snow and steadily went toward the woods, axe in hand to deter suspicion. Everyone knew that Astrid practiced daily. It was how she was as good as fighting. Astrid did practice, for a short time. She threw her axe at tree-enemies, dodged their attacks while retrieving her axe, and counterattacked. If someone caught her in the woods, she dared them to say something while he held her axe.

Today, however, Astrid skipped the pretense of practice. She kept one eye out for witch hunters while she snaked her way further into the thick wood. She could still get lost easily, but she knew the way to their spot. She ducked below branches, stepped over thicker brambles, and maneuvered her way through the prickly, grabby limbs.

She came to the thicket, their thicket. She squeezed inside the small clearing. Somewhere, two dragons chirped and sang to one another. Sunlight speckled the clearing's floor, and among the golden flecks was something knew. A stone. Astrid set her axe against a tree and stepped over to it. She reached for it, and gasped before she'd touched it.

The stone had been polished and smoothed. Small intricate lines had been etched into the surface, creating a stunning image of a flower. It was too beautiful for human hands to make.

A small sound caught her attention, a footstep on soft ground.

"Did you make this?" Astrid asked without looking. She knew who it was. Him. She took her eyes off the stone to see him nod his masked face. He wore his leather mask today, and his strange assemblage of leather armor. He'd added to it over the years, more here, less there, until the whole site of him looked both terrifying and ridiculous.

"You've been flying?" Astrid asked.

He nodded. He stepped in and took a seat underneath the sunlight. It showed every nick and scratch on his leather suit. Astrid watched him for a moment longer. Elegance didn't describe him. He moved with a care, with awareness of his surroundings. In the past three years his limbs had grown longer, and he taller, although he hadn't gotten any wider. If anything, he'd thinned.

"My father's decided to cancel his trip this spring," Astrid said with a sigh as she walked over to join him. She sat down close enough to hear his breath hit the other side of his mask, to see the twitch in his eyes, and within easy reach. She kept her hands on the stone flower.

He moved slightly beside her, to look at her through his mask. She wanted to see his face, but she didn't know him without it. It molded with him in her dreams. It was him. He scooted a little closer.

"I didn't want him to," Astrid said, fingering the flower. "But I feel weird about him canceling it. He's been talking about it for a while now."

She paused. He nudged her. It was a small tease, a comfort given with playfulness.

"This morning I interrupted my parents talking. They were talking about me, I think." Astrid bit her lip. "I don't know what they were saying, but after that they starting talking all sappy and nostalgic. It was weird."

He tilted his head, curious.

"They're up to something. They're not telling me about it on purpose."

The arm that held him up scooted to her other side, so that he leaned in toward her. She could smell faint, stringent soap.

"I know it's probably nothing," Astrid said, trying not to lose herself in him. "The chief was at the house yesterday, talking with my dad in a hushed way, and stopped the moment he saw me. It's unsettling and frustrating."

His finger traced the curved of the stone flower, and then touched the back of her hand. His hands were the only part of him that she's seen, aside from his eyes. They were the only part of him that she'd touched, that had touched her.

"I'm afraid they're making plans without me," Astrid said quietly. "A few months ago, a girl younger than me was sold to a neighboring tribe as a bride. She'd never met the man but her parents and his had discussed it, and decided it for them. She was a muttonhead, and Berk's better off without her, but it's still strange to think her parents would just send her off."

His fingers laced with hers, familiar.

"I'm not a child anymore, I know that," Astrid said, staring at his callused hand. "My parents will expect me to settle down and have children. But…I don't want to. I want to adventure like my father, to explore, to be a warrior, not a wife and mother, only referred to by my role to my husband."

His thumb ran along hers. His touch was gentle, not what she'd expect from the fierce and feared dragon man.

"I'd rather be like you," Astrid said to his hand, then caught the brightness of his eyes. "Exploring the woods every day, living with dragons…it sounds exciting."

He squeezed her hand. She wished he would speak back, but like his mask, his voice ceased to exist in her dreams. He was a silent, faceless man. If those two traits were given him, who would he be? What if he was a dragon-demon underneath all that leather? Were his human eyes a rouse? She wanted to know but she didn't. She wanted him just the way he was.

She settled in beside him, resting against him with her cheek against his shoulder. In and out he breathed, humid puffs against his mask. She listened to the muffled breaths, felt them ooze out underneath it. She would be content if she could stay like this, but she knew she would have to return to Berk, to home. However, home could wait a little while.

X

Home did come, reluctantly. Astrid ate dinner with her parents and their guest that night, Spitelout. Spitelout and Harald talked politics, of near and far, and of nonsense things Astrid didn't care about. By the bored look on Ingrid's face, she didn't care either. As dinner came to an end, Astrid expected Spitelout to go, but he lingered.

"I'm off to bed," Astrid pretended to yawn. She hadn't made it to the first step before her father spoke.

"Not yet, Astrid," he said. "We've got something we need to discuss."

She turned around, aware that Spitelout's stare followed her. "What it is?"

Harald cleared his throat and looked at Ingrid. She nodded. "Yes. Astrid, you're a woman now. Far old enough to marry."

"Okay," Astrid said when her mother paused. The three adults exchanged glances and that unsettled rock pushed upward in her stomach. "I'll get right on that, but finding a husband is pretty low on my to-do list."

"Astrid," Ingrid said urgently, reaching out to Astrid's shoulders. "I should have told you sooner, but, I didn't. I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about?" Astrid said, louder this time.

"Do you remember when I was so sick years ago?" Ingrid asked. "I didn't fear death, I feared leaving you on your own. To protect you, I made an agreement."

"Of…?" Astrid asked, glancing in Spitelout's direction, that sickening sensation worsening by the moment.

Ingrid swallowed. "Dear, you've been promised to Snotlout."

"What?" Astrid screamed, her voice cracking. She shook her mother's arms off. "How could you do that?"

"I was thinking of your future," Ingrid pleaded.

"I could take care of myself," Astrid spat.

"It's a done deal," Harald said. "You've been paid for."

Astrid shook her head, unable to comprehend how such a good day could have gone so wrong.

"It's high time we starting planning the wedding," Spitelout said with a smile. "Snotlout's eager to marry."

Astrid shook, even the words 'Snotlout' and 'marry' sent an upsurge of nausea up through her throat. Ingrid stepped toward her, but Astrid pushed her hands away.

"No," Astrid mumbled through the swirling house. She stumbled backward and hit the door handle with her back. She reached for it and before anyone could stop her, she was out the door and running through the dark, winter night.

Freezing winds whipped at her face and tore through her clothes. It whisked up snow and bits of ice and hurled them at her. She ignored it all, and soon the calls of her name vanished into the night's darkness. She ran into the forest, only worried about putting distance between herself and her parents, and her never-to-be father-in-law.

Sold. She'd been sold like a yak for slaughter. Like hell if they thought she'd willingly marry Snotlout. She needed to talk to him, her witch, the only one that would listen. He always listened.

Astrid held too many worries as she ran. The sound of the rushing waters fell on her ears, but she did not hear them. She heard only her rapid breath, crunching of frozen ground underfoot, and the dread of a future she didn't want. The dark hid the treacherous ground and as the dirt slipped under her boot, she did not have time to react until the freezing waters had engulfed her.

Tiny, needle-pins stuck her from every side, stabbing deeper with every stick, soaking through her clothes and filling her boots. It filled her mouth as she tried to shout for help, stealing the breath away. All she felt was cold. All she saw was darkness.

She didn't want to drown, but maybe it would be better than a life with Snotlout. They would come looking, but never find her. They would assume her vanished, spirited away.

The cold water lashed at her face and pulled her under with the current, refusing to let her go. Someone yelled, but she couldn't understand them. She hit something hard and warm, and something fastened around her arms. The freezing water met the frigid air and she landed on the hard ground of the forest. Shivers ravaged her limbs, shaking her very core.

"Astrid?"

The ground moved, or she moved. Something pulled her to her feet.

"You'll be alright, but you have to come with me before you freeze to death."

Astrid could feel the water freezing to her skin. She blinked at that which she leaned against, and her shivering breath left her. It was her witch in his leather suit and mask. He moved and pulled her along with him, even as the world swayed.