This is one of the sappiest things I have ever written. No doubt, you'll all love it. Oh, and Stoick has no shame.

Warning: some sensuality.

Berkian Eddur - 2

Winter in Líf's Holt

Chapter 11 - Lines to the Heart

For it was beautiful upon our tongues and we traced all the lines to the heart.

― Regina O'Melveny

Stoick left that meeting a great deal less stressed than he had the day before. His son's absence had forced him to pay his full attention to the proceedings though - and he'd never known that fishing on eel-island was contested because the Trollguts liked to eat them, but the UglyThugs thought the dragons that lived there were too rare to be endangered. Apparently, they were good for more than fish soup. Who knew?

The Hall was seeing more activity than it had in quite a few year. The Thing had not occurred on Berk in a long time, as most of the ships sailing towards them had either been sunk or summarily pillaged by the reptilian opportunists. That was something else he regretted; after the first few times, and after the underpants incident, he'd stopped taking Hiccup with him. Thuggory and Cami would ask about him every time, but when the boy had started his apprenticeship at the forge, and started to get into even more trouble trying to prove himself, Stoick had decided that it would no longer be wise to take such a liability for Berk with him.

Truly, he was a terrible father. Oh Val; she would kill him. Skin him and tan his hide, then make him wear it again.

Only now did Stoick realise that he had cut his son off from the only friends he'd had at the time. And he was very lucky that Hiccup had been able to forgive him and rekindle those friendships, as Stoick had seriously begun to doubt his son's ability to succeed him at one point, and seen his ties with the other heirs as both pointless and somewhat dangerous - now they were a boon, especially with the Meatheads and Bogs being as thick as thieves with them thanks to this.

He'd noticed that something had happened with the UglyThug boy. Hiccup wouldn't otherwise have planted a friend in the middle of a problem situation the way he had. He had to talk to him about it, but perhaps…

He pushed the door to his home with a sigh, welcoming the cheery warmth of the fire and every sound and smell that meant home nowadays. Ever since Astrid had really gotten the hang of cooking, there was always such joy in going home and finding the hot meal making the main room smell wonderful.

Fireworm had refused to leave his side - possibly an after effect of all the tension that they had gone through the previous day, but she had been bored silly and ended up falling asleep, her snores rattling the weapons bracketed on the column above her. At least the rumble had kept him awake.

The tired nightmare left him at the hall entrance with a lick and pushed the barn one open, tottering inside. When Stoick closed the door behind him, he could hear murmurs from the dragon barn, two distinct voices chatting in quiet tones. He paused for a second, recognising his son and betrothed, and moved on, gravitating inexorably towards the pot.

"Help yourself!" Astrid called, and he grinned beneath his mustache, glad his facial hair and the lack of people in the room prevented anyone to witness this moment of childish glee. He hated to admit it, but when he served his own portions, he always tended towards filling the bowl … just a little more.

Once his food was steaming out of a wooden bowl, he grabbed a spoon and tiptoed to his own bed chamber to eat his spoils without owning up to the larger portion. He grinned again when the younglings walked into the main room not seconds after he closed the door, and he sat on his bed with his loot, spooning the fish soup down eagerly. He'd have something to brag about with Gobber tomorrow, at any rate.

"I've never encountered it, but I'm sure it's nothing alarming."

"But Stormfly almost went after me!" Astrid said in a worried and hurt tone. Stoick's spoon stopped half-way to his mouth.

"When you stepped right in the middle of the greeting dance that she and Clover were engaged in," Hiccup chastised mildly. "I've told you that nadders are touchy about that."

"I know," Astrid replied. He heard them both sit around the fire, Astrid opened the pot and gave them each a bowl of the soup. "But I've done it before, when she's flapping away at one of the local nadders. She's never cocked her tail at me."

"Yes, well… to be honest, I think it may have been more than a greeting dance," Hiccup replied. Stoick moved towards the reed-mat that gave his bedding area some privacy, closing it off with a door from the rest of the house and sat down on a stool as quietly as he could. But through the gaps in the weave, he could see into the lit room perfectly. Astrid was already in her long white sleeping tunic, her hair braided down one shoulder, while Hiccup was in his day-clothes without his armour. Evidently, whatever had happened with the nadder had caused them to retire early that day.

Or … well, they were betrothed, and her dowry was upstairs, so they were safe if they decided to … indulge. He grinning in triumph.

"You don't?" Astrid asked. Hiccup shook his head, drinking the broth from the bowl and looking pensively at the fire. With his jaw shadowed by his hair as it was, he looked the spitting image of his Val, down to the shining, intelligent eyes.

"Hmm," he replied, voice absent as his mind worked. Astrid moved subtly closer with a shiver, and that seemed to catch Hiccup's attention right away, pulling a shawl from a pile beside him and draping it over her shoulders. "Well, Clover and Stormfly have had a thing going since they met back when you were beginning to train her. That dance they were making looked a lot more elaborate than the usual greeting dances they make, and since nadders mate for life…"

Hiccup blushed as his mind caught up to his mouth, burying his face in the bowl as Astrid gave him a knowing look. Praise Frigga, Hiccup was all his mother, down to the sweet shyness and the ever-tested temper.

"That would explain why Clover won't leave her side tonight. I hope Toothless doesn't mind too much…"

Stoick blinked, and for the first time realised that his son's dragon was curled up beside the fire, his black hide blending him in with the hall's shadows perfectly. Damnit, he hoped the dragon didn't witness his theft. He'd rat him out right away.

"Mind sleeping by the fire and practically at the foot of my bed, you mean? Oh, I think he really does," Hiccup said mockingly, nudging him with a toe. Toothless gave an annoyed rumble, and Hiccup chuckled. Astrid nudged him gently with a shoulder.

"Leave him be, or he'll set your trousers on fire. I think he really liked it when Hoark's nightmare did it to Snotlout last week. It may have given him ideas."

"Nah, he wouldn't do that to me" Hiccup grinned. "He's not the type to bully a one-legged man."

She snorted. "In any case, I'll try to see what Heather and I can cook up tomorrow. It's going to be … odd, if her dragon decides he doesn't want to leave Berk. How do you know they mate for life, anyway?"

Again, his son blushed. Stoick rolled his eyes, but Astrid seemed to find it endearing. "It's only a suspicion, really. When I travelled up north, where the dragons weren't really affected by the Red Death, I always saw nadders in pairs, and they tended not to change very often."

"Hmm," Astrid replied, returning to her food and leaning into him. Her bare feet extended towards the fire, toes wiggling. "You learn something every day."

The rest of their meal was silent, save for the eloquent glances they gave one another. As soon as it was done and the bowls put away, both of them were left staring awkwardly at one another beside his curtain.

Stoick bit his lip to stop himself from telling them to get on with it.

His son, finally, did him proud as he bent down and kissed her, and Astrid did what all warrior woman did when the man they chose gave them attention, reciprocating in kind with her own brand of unusual gentleness. Ah, he remembered his own Val, how she'd go from breaking heads and hitting everyone with her staff to resting her head on his chest, peaceful and content.

He blinked when he heard them talking again, unashamedly listening in. Gobber had a betting pool running, and Stoick had put down a few sheep on the success of their relationship. Stakes had gotten even higher after their quarrel, so this was a good sign.

"Hiccup… may I…?" she seemed to falter, but judging by the way his son coloured, it had to be one of those questions. "May I stay?"

Stay? Stay where … oh! Oooooh! Come to think of it, he hadn't heard Astrid climb up to her room yesterday, and since the wooden stairs ran right past his room and her room was up on top of his, he should have been roused by the noise, no matter how tired he was or quietly she trod - he was a warrior, he slept like one. Score! He had better start speaking to the Hoffersons about the wedding next Spring after all.

"Asta…" Ah, smart boy, his son. Giving a woman an endearment was worth giving her a thousand flowers. Or weapons. "I'd really like that." Atta boy! "But…" What? "Astrid, it would be nice. Too nice. Too much of a temptation."

Oh, so they hadn't indulged. Bugger. Bugger all.

"Hiccup, you … you know I wouldn't … mind, right?"

Stoick almost burst out laughing at his son's face, cupping his own mustache so that he didn't make a noise and alert them. It was precious, really, how his cheek was twitching.

"Erk, no, no I didn't know, and I think it would have been better for your honour if I hadn't," he replied helplessly. Then he shook himself. "Astrid, we're not married yet. If … if you start showing signs … Look, I've already made a mess of your honour at the dance. I'm not doing that again. And especially not before we have that talk. You know, about … about my five years, and … after that, you'll know everything, and… well, certainly not before. Please understand."

"I do, I guess," she said, and there was real disappointment there. Hiccup bit his lip and stepped back, closing the curtain.

"Goodnight, Asta," he said. Astrid stood there for a moment longer, one hand holding her shawl while the other rose to rest against the curtain. Stoick twisted, and was on time to see Hiccup's hand close around hers from the other side. The curtain flew open suddenly, and Hiccup swooped down and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off her feet. Stoick grinned and punched the air victoriously as the kiss continued for quite a few moments, and Astrid didn't seem to mind being man-handled.

Still carrying her, Hiccup walked across the main room in three strides and stopped at the foot of the stairs. He didn't put Astrid down right away, and Stoick twisted, trying to see them as they stood right beside his room, the blasted weave of the reeds obscuring most of them.

"Hiccup," Astrid said, and there was a certain quality in her voice that almost made Stoick blush. And then grin. Haha, that was his son! "We don't have … I mean, yesterday, we just slept."

"Have mercy on me," he begged, and as they were so close, their voice was clearer even though they whispered. Stoick winced in sympathy. It was true - Astrid had probably slept the night before. Women seemed to have an easier time resisting the call of a warm body. "I want to take care of you, Asta," He kissed her. "Even when you don't want me to."

"You've told me something to that effect before…" she replied, sighing in what sounded like resignation. "But only if you let me take care of you, too."

"Astrid, I'm not a child."

"Neither am I," she replied, punching him in the gut. He grumbled but didn't seem to mind as Stoick could barely see her hand rubbed the sore spot. "And I know you're used to making it on your own. But I like taking care of my … husband." They were silent for a few seconds, and then the sound of a kiss ending explained it. "I'm serious. It's just the same as you wanting to care for me. I'm a warrior of Berk, not a helpless little lass. I'll let you if you let me."

"Fair enough," Hiccup replied. "Just … not certain things, ok? The leg and … I promised you later, after the Thing. Can we keep that, until then?"

"Clinging to your last weeks of freedom before I own you completely?" she teased. Hiccup's prosthetic foot shifted. "I was only joking, I'm sorry. I didn't mean …"

"No, nothing like that," he replied, and Astrid's feet landing on the wooden stair told Stoick that he'd only now put her down. "You own me already. Just, I told you, you may not like what you hear. Still … I accept your transaction. I get to take care of you, and you get to take care of me. Just no mothering. Frigga knows your mother does it enough for twelve."

"I really don't want to mother you, Hiccup Haddock." Stoick, seasoned warrior, blushed scarlet at her tone. Hiccup, apparently, was his father's son, because after a few minutes of silence, Astrid's feet landed on the wooden stair again, lips smacking and breathing heavy.

"Good night," he told her with finality, though his voice broke in the middle with a husky laugh. "And now you know that I … well, now it's very obvious that I'm not refusing because I'm not interested. Couldn't let you think that."

"How did you…"

"The arena this morning and the dance. I thought it was obvious how much I wanted to dance with you, but it wasn't. So I'm totally going to make the obvious more obvious. Just so … I don't want to quarrel like that, ever again."

"Yes. I …" She sighed. "You're right. Part of me wants to talk to you right now, but we have so much work and so much going on, we just don't have time to go off for a day and really … talk, do we? And if we misunderstand or we quarrel…. we need time to really talk, and we don't have that."

"Not yet. After the Thing. After that, I'll get Gobber and Snotlout and anyone who I happen upon on the street to cover for me, and you'll have me for as long as you want."

"You are an evil man," she sighed. "To phrase it like that."

"Urk, Astrid."

He stepped away, cloth rustling and the quiet click-thump of his step crossed the room again at a slower pace.

"Good night," he said.

"Good night," she replied. He disappeared behind the curtain, and silence took over the room, the crackling fire the only noise. Stoick couldn't see Astrid, but knew she hadn't moved up the stairs. With a rustling and a dull thump, she sat down, and the chief could barely make out her feet, sticking out beyond the first stair, white linen sleeping clothes almost glowing.

She sat there in silence for quite a few minutes, her feet moving back and forth on the floor. Another muted noise indicated that she had rested her head against the wooden sidewall of the stairs which confined with his room. Stoick sat very still for a second, almost expecting her to call out to him and chide him for listening (he was the patriarch! And the chief! He totally, totally could! And he had sheep on this!)

She sighed, and Stoick had never heard Astrid sigh like that - like a sweet girl, thinking on her special one, instead of a hard and crusty shieldmaiden that she was. An endeared smile rose under his beard.

Then a grin. Double Score. He was SO augmenting his flock.

Astrid rose and climbed the stairs after a while, whispering a near inaudible 'goodnight' before closing her door behind her. Stoick merely grinned, finishing off his now cold food and going to bed, still smiling obscenely.

That was his boy, making the best warrior of her generation melt at the knees. Stoick knew he had it in him. He went to sleep grinning. Like father, like son, after all.

=0=

"But they seem to be doing better?"

"Well, yeah, but they were still fighting. She slapped him across the face and almost cut him in half with an axe yesterday. They did make up. And make-out." A snicker. "Right after that. But still, it doesn't look like things are really as good as they should be, you know."

Snotlout shrugged after a pause, continuing; "My cousin's been through Hel's teeth, cleaning their rotten remains off. He deserves to enjoy some fruit for his labour."

Thuggory nodded pensively, one hand stroking his budding beard as the other tapped his elbow. "You have any suggestions?"

Snotlout snigged. Toothless gave a half-lidded look that said 'Of course I do, moron'

"Then would you mind sharing?" Thuggory answered in annoyance.

"Are you … talking to… of course you are." Snotlout gave a huff. "Listen to the dragon, never mind that I could have had an idea."

"Well, do you?"

"No, but it's the principle."

Toothless' tail came around a whacked him around the head. The protective wing that was saving him from a drenching closed with a snap and the big fat droplets began to seep into his fur and clothes.

"Hey!" he protested. The dragon just laughed. "Oh, whatever. So what's your idea, genius?"

Toothless hobbled forward, his steps urgent. They didn't have much time, this they knew. Hiccup was inside in the talks again, and Thuggory had slipped away with an out-house excuse. He also knew Toothless had refused to get off his arse and away from the still-warm hearth that morning, even though Astrid had offered him a tarbot, in order to meet the two men.

A tarbot. He almost never got those!

They had better appreciate it.

Thuggory sighed. He could read Toothless's body language as clearly as if he'd been mumbling. Hiccup had been frowning and worrying all morning that his dragon had refused his favourite fish. He'd appeased his friend by telling him it was probably lack of exercise that made his appetite diminish, and then Hiccup had looked impossibly guilty.

Toothless stopped in front of a shed. It was tiny, by Viking standards at least, and it certainly wasn't well kept. A constant drip-drip echoing inside told of at least one hole in the roof.

But it had one thing that Toothless kept nosing - and it made both men grin mischievously at one another.

It locked on the outside, and the wooden latch was surprisingly not rotted. Thuggory slid it into place and tugged, and the door held.

The two men and the dragon grinned at each other.

"Sleipnir's1 shit, this is brilliant." Thuggory couldn't have grin more if his face had split in half.

"Simple, yet effective." Snotlout's mouth also split open. "Gotta admit, it's Viking proof."

Tooth's mouth also split into a toothless grin equal to their own.

You lot owe me a boat-load of tarbot.

Thuggory winced. He'd heard that as clearly as if Toothless'd said it. He got the same looks from Fanghorn when the dragon did him a favour.

Damn reptiles, they drove hard bargains.

"Don't look so smug yet, fork-tongue," Snotlout said, still cross-armed. "We still have to find a way to lure them here.

Toothless' smugger expression made both men sigh.

"I fancy a spot of fishing."

"Seems we'd better both fancy it… stupid dragon… ow!"

=0=

There were days of the year on Berk when, even in the Winter, the sun peeked out from behind the cloud banks and played peek-a-boo with the halls below. Furs were still a good idea - the sun never warmed up much this time of the cycle, but there was something to be said about bundling up and going sun-hunting, above the clouds.

Sure, it was so cold that your teeth felt like they were turning into painful daggers sinking into your gums when you breathed in, and your beard got a few icicles hanging pretty here and there, but nothing new in Winter on Berk.

And it was especially pleasant when you had a warm body to snuggle up against.

"There's something wrong with the bairn, you say?" he asked rather worriedly. That child was going to be the end of him, really. As if it wasn't enough that he didn't get enough visits throughout the year to satisfy himself that nothing bad had happened, and to make sure he didn't have to step in and beat some heads - and come to think of it, they'd have a chat, now, about how having a dragon meant more visiting time - but now even his wife didn't know what was going on.

Gobber bit at his mustached.

"An' let me get this straight; you're bein' kept in the dark on't?"

"Hmm," was the reply. The morning sun was peeking over the horizon of clouds, still pink from the dawn, and the blue sky around them looked clear and sharp enough to dip a hand in and drink from.

"A thousand blackened thumbs," he swore, "it'll drive me nuts, it will, woman. What do you want me to do."

"Tell the bairn to come over for a chat? You know, you're very important to that child, but ye rarely come visit us."

"Ye knew when ye took me that I could'na leave Berk," he said with a sigh, patting her waist where he was holding on. "I've a shop to take care of, and ye know better'n I that I wouldn'a be welcome on yer shores. The shop's part of why ye wanted me, you crazy woman."

"Oh aye," she replied, sultry as ever, leaning back against him and rubbing her back against his front like a needy dragon. "No one does maces quite like yours, dear. You can bash fifteen hundred heads in, and they'll still be good as new. And let's not talk about your flails… never fail to get me hot under the armour."

"Glad you approve," he said, still giddy as a boy when she paid him complements. Joke as they might, solid as they were despite living apart for the majority of the year due to their respective responsibilities, he still wondered why a powerful, well-positioned and remarkably still beautiful woman like her had chosen a crusty, old, two-limbed man. Still, he was past the point of fearing her loss and well into the stage where he was gloating the conquest - if not with many people. He had learned that all men were inferior to good women anyway, it was a fact of life.

And never was it more true with this kind of woman.

"I'll talk to my little bairn then; if I get the chance, mind," he sighed. "'S been a long time since she could sit on my knee and I could hold her there."

"Eh," Bertha shrugged. "She'll listen to ye. May come herself, actually. The girl loves her da', ye know. She's just at that age when she's more interesting in looting than the stories of 'em loots. She won't speak to me, and I think … I'm afraid it may be a boy this time, Gobby-dear."

"Now that…" he said in a growl, "...is really mine te' deal with. And if I know someone's been messing with me bairn, I'll get 'em and peel 'er skin off toes first."

"Atta boy, husband," Bertha said. She gave him a grin over her armoured shoulder that he returned, and patted his bad knee. "Say, that island down there, 's one of yours, right?"

"Oh, aye," Gobber replied. Bork had been gifted with a number of tiny islands for his work on the book of dragons, and it had made his family wealthy. As Gobber was his last surviving Berkian relative, he had inherited the lot. He'd probably give it to Hiccup as a wedding gift - or to his little bairn's man, if she chose as Berk man.

And if he found out that it was one of the lads who was playing fiddle with her heart, he was going to make sure Hiccup got the islands; only with an admonition never to go dig in a certain spot on one of them.

"Uninhabited?" she asked, peering down at it. It looked lush and green, wet from the Winter rain.

"Save for the beasties," he shrugged. Bertha gave him in a look, and then he wasn't at all surprised that her dragon started descending. He gave her a grin back. He knew were a couple of cosy caves were, and they had fur, and kindling, and some nice warm bread.

It was great to have some married time. It'd been months since they'd last met, after all. Still, the problem of his little sweet bairn rode high on his head, and he wasn't about to let that go so easily. He'd go out to find his little girl and have a long-overdue father-daughter chat. That little rascal hadn't even come to the forge once since the Thing started, and in hindsight he should have known there was some lad behind that. Sure, Hiccup had remained steadfast and mostly on task, even with his chase after Haknee's girl. But not all lads were as straight-laced as that boy and his little lass sure was not.

Ock, he didn't know if Hiccup'd managed to sort out that mess with lill' Astrid. He'd been sad and upset last time they talked, and things with his lass hadn't seemed to be going well. And he heard the rumour about something going down all wrong at the opening feast too. Some of the people of the village had been glaring at him and giving him a hairy-eyeball, though he didn't seem to notice any the last time they'd been in the forge together, with the boy hammering away at something and looking like his head was still riding a dragon.

They landed with a jolt, and he jerked Bertha with his distraction.

"You left your mind on Berk, husband?" she asked with a laugh. "Or is it at the Bog, recalling fond memories?"

"Eh," he sighed. "These bairns. They'll be the end of me." He ran a hand down his face and his mustache, getting rid of some of the ice-crystals.

"Ah, my family man," she said, tugging him towards one of the caves her dragon had already spotted. "You seem to know something I don't know. And since we're in a sharing mood, let's go get cosy and share, shall we?"

Geh. He hoped he wasn't going go and get Hiccup into trouble, but Freya be damned for her wily ways, he couldn't ever deny this woman anything.

=0=

1 That is the name of Odin's horse, who was conceived in a very, very strange way...

=0=

Did you all think I was done with the crack pairings? Because I sure as heck was not! Haha, yes, Gobber is Cami's daddy. Oh come on, don't tell me you can't see it!

And then, we have the scheming wingmen…