It was one of the last days of summer, and there was a chill in the air that enabled the inhabitants of Berk to foresee just how fast fall would come to prepare the island for the long winter. It was a beautiful day.
Astrid pursed her lips as she looked him over. Somehow, she wasn't surprised at all that he had made all the efforts he could to look the best way possible , and ended up looking the way he usually did on any other day. The same brown, soft hair covering his forehead, the same forest-green eyes in which a hint of defiance sparkled, the same green tunic and fur vest and the same golden Ring of Heavens pendant she had given him on his eighteenth birthday. Perhaps the only change of note was his odd, almost defensive stance...
She took a moment to appreciate the tiny glimpses of his preparation, not to mention the whole package, before he cleared his throat and spoke.
"Well?" he asked shortly. "What do you think?"
She hid a smile, but she felt some of it escape to light up her eyes anyway. Not that it mattered. He was far too apprehensive today to pick up anything so subtle. Besides, she didn't really feel like hiding it out of anything more than the custom of trying not to be too obvious while laughing at his expense. After all, she wasn't the one about to risk her life today.
That thought, and a sudden sneaking suspicion only augmented by his odd, unexpected defiant look, dimmed the growing laugh bubbling up in her throat and she frowned. At her change in expression, he shifted tensely. "Astrid?"
The impatience in his tone confirmed it, and her eyes narrowed. "Did you sharpen his axe this morning?"
He gave up on trying to stand still and began pacing agitatedly in front of her house, stopping suddenly to throw a baleful look at her. "Of course," he snapped. "What do you take me for?"
She rolled her eyes. "Never mind. Just... stop pacing. You're making me nervous too."
He stopped almost immediately, instinctively, the cessation bring him to a halt right in front of her. For a moment, she saw every corded muscle in his arm, every fiber of tension locked up in him, and then he sighed and relaxed. "Sorry," he muttered. "It's just..."
He caught himself, and the accusing glare returned. "Hey, wait. Why am I apologizing to you? You're the one who got me into this mess."
She lifted a perfectly curved eyebrow, leaned back and folded her arms across her chest, barely holding her impeding laughter. "Is that so? If I remember correctly, you're the one who brought the topic up in the first place."
Hiccup scowled. "Yeah, and for the record, I'm the one who's about to enter the worst life-or-death battle ever. You could at least give me some sympathy."
It was probably the slight pout that did it, just the barest protrusion of his lip and the hurt look in the green orbs she loved so much. But then again, she'd known him for long enough to fall for his tricks, so it had to have been her own mind that voluntarily set her fingers up to lightly brush his face. He looked away from her at the touch and she sighed.
"Come off it," she scolded gently, her hand following his movement to cup his cheek. He nestled into it almost absentmindedly. She reached up with her other hand and tried to stroke away the obvious nerve-wracking nervousness he felt with her thumb. "Who had the nerve to stay and fight even after being disowned and banished? Who had the determination to stick it out to the end, going into battle against the most gigantic dragon ever known to us? By Thor's hammer, Hiccup, who had the guts to kidnap me on the back of a Night Fury and survive my wrath?"
Unbidden, he smiled into her palm, and she felt the movement of it slide across her skin like a beam of the sun. He raised his left hand to press against hers. "I did," he smirked, "And don't you ever forget it."
She didn't hold back the laugh this time. Instead, she let it breathe out, soar into the air between them, and then fade away as she leaned forward to press a kiss on the tip of his nose. "And with that ego, you could face down a thousand Green Deaths. Come on now, get going. He won't eat you."
At the reminder of his impending doom, Hiccup pulled back. The movement dropped their hands to their sides, and with that the nervousness returned in his frown. "Yeah, right. Then why did he tell my dad he wanted to have a talk with me before he made his decision known?"
She glared at him and pushed him gently in the back. "That's right. He wants to have a talk with you. A talk, Hiccup! Now move your sorry butt!"
He grudgingly began to climb up the three little stairs that led to the threshold, his strides short and forced, but he somehow managed to square his shoulders. She felt her own nerves begin to overcome her.
A few paces from the door he stopped and he returned back to her. She crossed her arms as he hesitated, silently warning him that he'd better not change his mind about the whole thing.
"You know, I really would feel more comfortable with you along." His fists clenched and unclenched nervously, and he attempted one of his lopsided grins. "I mean, I've just gotten so used to us fighting side by side now, and this is going to be one hell of a battle."
"Why, is the hero of Berk scared?"
The look on his face was priceless. "No! No, uh, of course not. I just..." he cleared his throat once more and straightened, trying to look as regal as possible. "I just think it would be easier if you came. You know, back-up. Strength in numbers and all that stuff."
"Hey, Hiccup." she said softly. "I believe in you."
The words sounded beautiful, almost unreal in their simplicity. For a moment after they were uttered, there was an unreadable look in his eyes. And then she reached up and kissed him, and he cracked. Sweeping down, his arms came around her tightly as he kissed her fiercely back, and for a moment there was nothing but them, their past, and the words left unspoken in their fire.
She pulled back first, the arbiter of necessity. He withdrew reluctantly, committing every inch of her to his memory as he pulled away. And then he smiled again, like she had given him the keys to some holy chests, and he climbed up the stairs again and disappeared behind the door of her house.
It took a few seconds for her to comprehend again the enormity of what was about to happen, and suddenly the impulse to run after him, be with him was almost irresistible.
She shook her head firmly. No, she couldn't think like that. After all, they'd planned it already. She'd set up the groundwork so at least there would be no element of surprise. Now it was all up to him. Him, and who was on the other side of the door.
She stared at it, and didn't budge an inch when she heard the rest of her friends come up to her.
"Do you think he will come out alive?" was the question Snotlout asked her. Ruffnut snorted wickedly.
"Is it just me or are you hoping he won't?"
"There's no reason why he shouldn't", Fishlegs intervened before things turned violent between his oh-so-unexpected girlfriend and Hiccup's cousin, "After all, he's only asking for the obvious."
"Yeah, nothing's easier than asking that to Arvarodd Hofferson, dude."
"Shut up, troll-breath."
"Shut up yourself!"
Astrid growled, and the twins took their cue to stop their bickering before she began to take it out on them, but not after Ruffnut shoved her elbow into her brother's stomach for good measure.
Time passed. And passed. And passed. And Astrid was becoming restless. What was Hiccup doing? Why hadn't he come back yet? He could not have screwed up this, could he?"
"Be patient, Astrid. Everything will turn out just fine, you'll see."
The blonde Viking turned round, almost startled by the warm voice that had just reached her ears, and smiled softly when she saw to whom the thin, wrinkle hand that was resting on one of her shoulders belonged to. Old Wrinkly. Hiccup's grandfather –on his mother's side-, was one of the village's best healers, as well as a wise soothsayer and the one person on Berk who had always believed in his grandson's abilities. Hiccup had often told her about how grateful he was for that, how much it had always meant to him, how crucial it had been for him to have at least one person in his childhood he could always count on and tell everything and how much he loved the old man. Astrid had grown rather fond of him, too.
"Patience is not my field of expertise, I'm afraid."
Old Wrinkly smiled, his knowledgeable eyes shining with mischief, and he shook his head tolerantly.
"Arvarodd is not blind. He knows you two are a perfect match. I for one think he wanted to make sure Hiccup understands how lucky he is to have you." He chuckled at the way Astrid blushed and cursed herself for it at hearing his words. "Anyway, I am proud to see that Hiccup has inherited my wonderful taste in women."
Astrid had to admit, if Old Wrinkly was trying to lift her spirits, he was pretty good at it. No wonder Hiccup was so good with words.
"Thank you."
It was a beautiful day. And even if it had not been the case, Hiccup still would have deemed that day blessed by the Gods. Feeling light-headed and utterly giddy as if he had just ingurgitated a whole barrel of mead, the eighteen years-old Viking somehow managed to exit the Hoffersons' dwelling place without cheering and/or bouncing up and down. He saw his grandfather and all of his friends waiting for him at Astrid's side, impatient looks carved on their faces, and he allowed himself to smile his widest smile as he gave them a thumbs-up. Immediately, they erupted into cheers and laughter and whistles whilst Astrid ran up to him and tackled him to the ground, locking her lips with his in the fiercest kiss she could muster.
When the both of them finally pulled away from each other, the respective grins they allowed to cross their features were the same and told the same thing: they were getting married.
It was a beautiful day, and nothing could possibly ruin it. Or so they thought.