And it's here! Sorry that took a while... but all these weird traditions? I did not make them up, Vikings really did them! I spared you the boringness of dowry negotions :) This one, in my opinion, isn't as well written, but hopefully it's as fun to read as it was to write! Enjoy!

"We should have just eloped," Hiccup muttered.

Astrid grimaced. "I'm not going to disagree, but it's too late now. The wedding's today, for Thor's sake. What have they got you doing?"

Hiccup half-laughed. "Well, if you can believe it, it started in a graveyard…"

1. Hiccup

Looking out at the mass of burly Viking men, Hiccup said, "Um, not that I don't love hanging out with you guys, but why are there this many people…in a graveyard…?"

"We're yer attendants," Gobber explained. "Yer advisors and helpers and such for the wedding."

"I have to have…" he counted the number of men quickly. "…nineteen attendants?"

"Nope," Stoick said. "Not strictly speakin', no. Usually it's about five or six. Mos' the men volunteered fer this one. Canno' imagine why." He beamed.

"Um, thanks?" Hiccup offered to the crowd. "But, really, any reason we're standing on dead people?"

"Because it's manly!" Ack said impatiently. "Real men don't fear their ancestors, boy."

"I think I've proved I'm a real man," Hiccup shot back.

Stoick waved his hand lazily. "Peace, peace. Hiccup, we're in the graveyard because we're going to break into that grave you're standing on."

Hiccup jumped back, horrified. "Um, no. No way. The likelihood of me doing that is about as high as Toothless moving back into the forest."

"Hiccup, you have to! It's essential for the ceremony!"

"I have to dig into a grave to get married?" Hiccup felt like he'd just been slapped with a wet eel. He hated eel.

"Yep!" Gobber answered cheerfully.

Hiccup eyed the forest, calculating his chances of escaping 19 men on his bad leg. His father seemed to read his thoughts. "We'll just drag you back," he threatened.

Hiccup raised an eyebrow. "I'll just yell for Toothless."

Stoick scowled. That overgrown lizard just wouldn't understand tradition. "Okay, fine, you win."

"So we don't have to dig into a grave?" Hiccup said hopefully.

"Oh no, we have to," Stoick reassured. "We'll just do the clean version."

"So let me get this straight," Hiccup said. "We dug a false grave, you put something in it for me to retrieve, and now I have to dig it out?"

"Exactly," Stoick replied.

"We have weird traditions," Hiccup muttered.

"Jes' go!" The attendants shouted. Stoick dropped an axe into his son's arms; Hiccup staggered under the weight of the weapon. How did Astrid carry one of these things? "I don't even get a shovel?" he asked weakly.

Stoick rolled his eyes. "Too easy." He pushed him to the pseudo-grave. Hiccup tried to swing his axe into the earth; he promptly fell over. The men kindly refrained form laughing. "Um, a little help here?" he called.

"Nope, you're required to do it all by yourself," Hoark the Haggard chuckled.

Hiccup looked hopelessly at the six-foot-deep grave. "I'd order some ale. We're going to be here a while."

Four hours later, when most of the men were mildly intoxicated, and in an alcohol-aided sleep, snoring with the force of earthquakes, a voice broke the air: "I'M DONE!"

Gobber jerked awake. "I'm up! Done, eh? Good job."

Hiccup smiled discreetly. No one needed to know that while they slept he'd snuck off to the forge with the axe and reshaped the blade into a crude shovel. He grabbed a replacement axe and made his way back to the partially-dug grave. Well, it actually took two trips—he couldn't drag both axes at once. He brushed the final layer of earth off the glimmering object buried in the grave and unearthed—what?

"A sword?" His voice squeaked. "I dug four hours for a sword? REALLY? I can forge one of these in an hour! Dad, I am going to—wait. Where is he?"

An imposing figure, swathed in a green, swirling cloak, stepped out of the trees. "I am your ancestor Olar, founder of Berk!"

Hiccup blinked. "Dad, what are you doing?"

"I am Olar, not Dad!"

"Okay, Dad, sure. What brings you back to Berk, Olar?"

"I am here, on the morn of your wedding, to remind you of your proud history and the lineage that makes you royal among Vikings…"

Hiccup resigned himself to a very long conversation.

When 'Olar' finally finished his monologue, Hiccup was about to fall asleep standing up. Seven generations of history. It was worse than Toothless' breath in the mornings. Especially he spoke of the Dragon Wars. Hiccup winced. So many lost souls—on both sides.

"Do you understand?' 'Olar' asked sternly.

Hiccup swayed on his foot, thinking how sore his leg would be later.

"Do you understand?" His father/ ancestor roared.

"What—? Oh, yeah. I'm royal and stuff, my heritage is who I am and who my children will be, the traditions I think are really weird are still around for a reason. Totally got it."

"Good," 'Olar' growled, and he lumbered back into the forest like a bear. Hiccup looked into the crowd of solemn men. "Um, what's up? You guys… eat any good food lately?" Ack shrugged. "Some good rabbit."

Stoick bounced up. "Hello, son. How was your audience with our ancestor?"

"Good. Very…informative. Though you already knew that," Hiccup pointed out.

"I don't know what you speak of," Stoick said with dignity. "I was insuring there was an ample amount of bridal ale for the ceremony."

Hiccup paled. "A-are we sure that's a good idea, Dad? Me and ale aren't really good together…I mean, last time…"

Stoick winced. "Son, I'm sure it won't happen again. You're bigger."

"By ten pounds!" Hiccup argued.

"You've got some tolerance by now," Stoick said firmly. "Please, Hiccup. For a month after the wedding, you and Astrid must consume the ale together. It's symbolic. It is a tradition. If you're really worried, pray to Odin for luck."

"Fine, but if what happened last time happens again, Astrid might not want to marry me anymore."

"Hiccup!"

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine, I'll shut up. What joyous tradition is next?"

"Bathing?" Hiccup said suspiciously. "Seems too…easy."

"While you purify yourself of bachelorhood, we attendants will instruct you in the ways of women, marriage, and fatherhood," Gobber clarified.

"There's the catch," Hiccup sighed. "Are you sure the bathhouse can fit all of us?"

Stoick winked. "Fit more women when Astrid was doing her purification."

Hiccup's cheeks burned. "I am not making my son do this," he muttered. The words "my son" suddenly made him feel queasy. He was 16! He was not ready to have a family totally dependent on him! Kids? Augh! He was 16!

"Oh, yes, you will," Stoick grinned. "All part of the experience, my boy."

They let him undress and slip into the stemaing water with their eyes cast respectfully upward. Well, this is awkward, Hiccup thought. "So," he said unsteadily, "What do I need to know?"

"Well, for one," Ack said. "Avoid angering your woman as much as possible. Not to say bend to her every will, that's no' what I mean. Just try to keep her happy."

"You thought I wouldn't?" Hiccup asked, a little offended.

"Oh, we know you will," Bjorn snickered. "You're pretty dedicated to tha', eh? Look at that ring he forged! My Helga had just a plain band."

"I wanted to ask right!" Hiccup defended himself.

"No, it's a good thing," Bjorn said. "You're going in on the righ' foot."

"Let her rearrange the house to her liking once she moves in," Stoick advised. "Lay down what she can't touch before it becomes an issue. I remember with Vallarharma…"

"Let her know your food preferences quietly so if she ever wants to 'surprise' you…and so she doesn't serve you something yeh hate," Ode added.

"I don' think you'll have any problem pleasing her physically," Gobber said wryly. "I mean, she seems pretty happy kissing on you."

"No one is ever going to let me forget that, are they?" Hiccup groaned. "It was one time!"

"I'll never forget the look on his face when she pulled away," Lars laughed. "More dazed than a cow struck by lightening!"

Hiccup blushed.

"Fatherhood," Stoick grimaced. "Um, someone else cover this."

"Well," Spitlout, Snoutlout's dad, mused. "Yours turned out pretty well, Stoick, I don' know why you're cowering over there."

"Because we didn't really get along until a while ago," Hiccup said.

Spitlout shrugged. "Love your child. Girl or boy. Do your best to show it. Be stern but not cruel. Don' let 'em push ya around neither. You're in charge."

"I don' think we have to worry about fatherhood much, Hiccup's great with younglings," Gobber said. "The ones in dragon training just adore him. Astrella's convinced she's going to marry him. She'll be heartbroken, eh, Hiccup?"

Hiccup splashed water on him.

"Augh! Odin's beard!"

The men kept on advising. Hiccup was actually grateful for this part; he needed to know. He wanted to please Astrid; he wanted to keep her happy; he wanted to be a good dad. He needed all the help he could get.

Eventually, they declared him purified.

He dressed in his wedding tunic, hooked that massive sword to his belt, and tried to ignore the panic asphyxiating him.

"Son," Stoick said, "The wedding is in an hour. I'm going to go tie up some loose ends. You prepare yourself. Practice your vows."

Hiccup, almost without thinking, found himself calling for Toothless and flying to Astrid's house. He needed some sanity.

"What about you?" Hiccup finished, leaning casually on Toothless's side.

"Well, I didn't have to dig into any graves…"

"…lucky," Hiccup muttered.

"My preparations were awful in a different way."

2. Astrid

Like Hiccup, Astrid was beleaguered by attendants. Almost every married woman in the village had turned up to guide her from maidenhood to marriage. Ruffnut was hanging around in the edges…maybe trying to prepare herself.

"Mom!" Astrid cried. "That's my favorite skirt!"

"Honey," Inga said as she tossed Astrid's skirt into the rag pile. "You can't have any of your old clothes. They're maiden clothes. I've made you new ones for when you're married."

"But I like my old clothes," Astrid protested.

Inga tossed a dress her way. "Do you like this?"

Astrid examined the plain, no-frills blue dress. "Yeah…"

"It's one of the ones I've made."

Astrid shut up…until she noticed the women filing out of her room. "What are they doing?"

"They're packing the appropriate things," Inga said.

"The appropriate things?"

"The things that aren't maiden things. The things you'll need as a wife."

Ruffnut poked Astrid's arm, grinning. "Ooh, a wife. You're going to be Mrs. Haddock!"

"Ruffnut, yes, I am. Shut up, I'm nervous enough."

"Astrid, he worships the ground you walk on," Ruffnut snorted. "No need to be nervous."

"Shut up! You're not helping me!"

"Astrid, peace," Inga commanded. "Wait for the purification. All your questions will be answered."

Astrid did a quick head count and gasped. "We can't fit 26 people into the bathhouse!"

"25, silly, Ruffnut can't come," Inga corrected.

"And why not?" Ruffnut said indignantly.

"Because you're not wed, nor a mother, and so you have nothing to contribute."

Ruffnut huffed, but she couldn't argue that unless she produced a child and could prove she'd birthed it. So she gave Astrid a one-armed hug and told her she'd see her at the ceremony.

The women squeezed in the sauna and politely talked amongst themselves while Astrid slipped into the steaming water. "Okay," she breathed in, "I'm ready."

"Honey, for one, you need to curb some of that hitting," her mother said frankly. "Some might not find it proper. And it'll teach your children to hit, which you don't want, because they'll hit you too…"

Brunhilde nodded. "But let's get to children later. Your basic duties are to rise before the rest of the house, prepare breakfast, and spend the day maintaining the house or any children you may have about. Sewing, cleaning, the like. In the evenings, you feed your man a hearty dinner, and the night passes as you wish." She raised her eyebrows. Astrid reddened.

"Let's not terrify her too much," Fryis laughed. "Living with a man is what she needs to know."

"Ach!" All the women agreed.

"Keep the house orderly and on schedule."

"Don't bend to his every will, but be peaceable."

"Show your love, and he'll do the same."

"Avoid foods he dislikes; much less fuss."

"Every man likes bread!"

"Keep your prayers strong, my girl, and the better if you pray together. He will lead the family in religion, but you hold together the family."

"Don't let him take too much ale; but I don' see that coming with yours, he's mild."

"Give him strong children!" There was a ripple of laughter and a hearty murmur of agreement. Phlegma said thoughtfully, "I don't think Hiccup will mind so much whether they're strong or not. Look at him, an' how he turned out! He'll just want 'em healthy."

"You're his compass to guide him. Remember that, my girl," Inga said.

"No pressure," Astrid muttered.

It went on, telling her how to knit and what plants she should plant in their garden and silly, necessary things. She listened, overwhelmed and eager.

Inga called, "Out, Astrid. Into the cool water now." As she spoke, she sprinkled flowers and herbs into the water. She gestured to it, "Encourages fertility. I want grandbabies, now."

Astrid jumped into the cool water and prayed to Frigga, goddess of marriage, for luck. She'd need it.

"The worse part is yet to come. They're dressing me next," Astrid said darkly. "I'm just wearing this old dress while I dry off."

Hiccup smiled. "I like the missing elbow. I really hope that's what you're wearing to the ceremony." She swatted him.

"No, you look great; you always do," he said.

She kissed his cheek. "You're sweet."

"I still think being forced to dig into a grave is worse than having to throw all your clothes away."

"Whatever. We have weird traditions."

"That's what I said!"

"Hiccup!" Stoick's voice shouted in the distance. "Get off your overgrown lizard! It's time!"

Toothless growled. "He doesn't mean it, buddy," Hiccup promised. He took a deep breath, turning back to Astrid. "I should go. How about… a kiss for luck?" He was still hesitant with her. It was so cute. How could she refuse?

She kissed him, soft and brief. "I'll see you at the altar," he said, jokingly but with a glow in his eyes, as he climbed onto Toothless. Astrid watched the dark shape of the Night Fury climb into the sky and soar away. It hurt to watch.

She went to go put on her wedding clothes, still feeling like she was in a dream.

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