Winter in Líf's Holt

by Midoriko-sama

Hiccup is back on Berk after having been missing for five years, just on time to hunker down for the Winter. But will the seemingly endless season hold beauty and happiness for him, or will everything that happened so quickly finally catch up with him? Rated for violence, colourful Viking language and some adult situations.

22. Trust and Love

The epithet of this chapter is very special to me, as I took it from one of the recently written most beautiful novels to be published. I know a film of it is being made – a lovely tribute to originality, as usual – but I won't be watching it. This was the last book I purchased from a great local family book shop of repute in my country, which sold-out and closed down soon after. So, here's to you, Mr Zusak; your novel is special because it's fantastic, and it's special because it's a relic of a by-gone great.

This chapter also contains the final step to the process of reconciliation between our two love birds.

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Berkian Eddur - 2

Winter in Líf's Holt

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Chapter 20 - Trust and Love

Not leaving: an act of trust and love, often deciphered by children.

― Markus Zusak

Even with their increased speed, they didn't make it to Berk for another hour. By the time they arrived, it was the darkest hour of the night, but the moon had not set yet and Hiccup could still mostly see what he was doing as he moved around on Toothless' saddle, trying to get a glimpse with his spy glass.

The ships were too far behind to see now, which was really good, and the sea stacks around Berk were beginning to appear with greater and greater frequency, so his homeland wasn't far behind. His heart began to pick up despite himself; he had never been so excited to see Berk's shores again which were suddenly rising up from the sea and filling out on the opposite horizon.

This was what it should have felt, months ago, when he returned home after years' absence. What it would have felt like had he left on good terms, had his trip really been a coming-of-age voyage as half the archipelago thought. He would have been glad to see home, then; to see the beloved and ever familiar shores of rest, peace and comfort approaching him with arms opening on the sea line.

Instead it had been fear and tension then, agitation, and a terrible sickness in his stomach that he was returned to the place where he was nothing and he was nobody. It had been an ache at the back of his mind, in the middle of his chest, just as his stump was now; an ache that had followed him for five years, reminding him even in his happier moments that his father didn't love him, that she would never look at him, and that he was more useful to his dear home gone that he had ever been.

The recent months had been a strong irritating medicine, the type that makes the sickness erupt first before it was eradicated. Pus had simmered in his chest as his every doubt and fear came to light, came to the surface. His inadequacies, his clumsy tendencies, and the steadfast belief that he was worth nothing to Berk and in Berk had all erupted on the skin of his heart like so many boils, aching painfully any time they were even lightly brushed by the breeze of thoughts.

He hadn't really realised when they'd begun to heal. Maybe when he spoke to Astrid that night, when she'd come looking for forgiveness after their quarrel. Maybe it was when he spoke in the meetings, as himself, his father looking at him with open approval. Maybe it was those moments in the shed with Astrid, so close and so beautiful, warm against her lips and in her arms, like balm on a wound long aching.

Or maybe it was before that - his first real conversation with his father in so many years, one with true communication that hadn't happened since before he left. Waking up with Astrid tending to him, instead of a foreign woman he did not know, who spoke a strange language and did strange things. Maybe it was just the day to day, living and breathing Berk, and the people around him bringing him honey and cider and herbs, complementing and taking pride in his little steps down the hill as he got used to his prosthetic, instead of criticising his every stumble.

Maybe it was better that he was feeling this now; that he had felt such different, horrible feelings the first time he'd returned to Berk, all those months ago that felt like a blink and an eternity. Now he could compare, he had two homecomings to put one next to the other, like two halves of a log, and they couldn't be more different. This time, he was going back to Berk because he wanted to, not because he felt he had to. He had his father and Astrid waiting, together with many friends. He had a feeling of anticipation - happiness - to see the green rolling hills, the scraggy rocks and the chill mountaintops capped in snow. He didn't feel the fear of discovery, the shadow of failure palling every one of his actions. It was ok if he stumbled, even if he fell. Suddenly, he just realised - as if someone had slapped him with it - that there would be someone to catch him, or to pick him back up. And even though Toothless had been that in the last five years, this was different. Finally, Hiccup Haddock had carved himself a space in the village of Berk. It wasn't a role on the outside anymore, like the moon roaming far up in the sky, living in the clouds and never touching the ground. It wasn't a big space - he didn't want one, and he tended to fit in small spaces. But Hiccup Haddock now was a part of Berk, one of its grass blades, and he decided that he wanted to keep it that way.

Somehow, in that old house on his island, his definition of 'freedom' had suddenly changed. It had suddenly become the freedom to chose. And at the end of the day, it hadn't really been a hard choice.

Toothless' egg was warm against his stomach. This felt like a new sort of freedom, too.

Berk's shores began coming up fast, and the dragons around him dived before he began feeling the kick at the back of his head when Toothless tilted forward and they began their descent. Berk was almost pitch black, but waving, quivering lights were beginning to dot the blacker-than-black that was Berk proper, and he knew they'd been spotted. Braziers began to come alight, and more of Berk began to be illuminated.

The female night fury let out a roar, starting off a bevy of chitters and growls from the other dragons assembled. His stomach rose to meet his throat in the familiar weightless sensation of landing before Toothless' wings furled out, the protection of the precious egg making Hiccup take most of the hit.

"It's the dragons, they're back!" someone yelled as the wavering torches grew nearer, and the braziers grew brighter. Hiccup blinked at them, his legs slightly unsteady as they always were after a long flight as he slid off the saddle.

"And it's Hiccup! Thor be praised, it's Hiccup!"

"He's fine! He's alive! Someone tells Stoick- Someone tell Astrid!"

The crowd began gathering around him, all of them happily congratulating him for being alive, and he dizzily realised that his half-formed plan would have worked - they had really believed he had died in the storm.

Oh. They'd believed he'd died in the storm. His dad, and Astrid …

The female night fury began to sidle up beside him, jolting away anyone who came too close and growling at them, the Hooligans only jumping away, looking slightly miffed and calling her 'Toothless', but Hiccup was too tired to correct them with a name she didn't yet have. Said male dragon just looked on in apparent elation as his lover jerked full grown Vikings around like rag dolls to get to their egg, which Hiccup surrendered gratefully to her as the crowd got thicker.

"Hiccup!"

His head snapped around, and he had an armful of Astrid before he could steady himself, their dragons saving them from a fall.

"Astrid, Astrid, sorry it took me so long," he heard himself babble as her face dove into his neck. "But it's before Snoggletog, so I kept that promise, and … It's before, right?"

Gods, had he been counting the days right? He'd not been in the old hut that long, right?

"I, oh gosh, I just…"

She grabbed his face and kissed him, hard. His legs, just used to being on the ground again, took on their wobbly-kneed stance for completely different reasons as her tongue took a holiday with his. Gods, what had he been thinking, worrying about this when it was so…

Toothless gave a warble and their mouths detached with a wet pop, and then the jeering and laughter of the rest of the tribe around them came to his attention like someone had taken cloth out of his ears.

"Son!" His father's booming voice reached him, and he looked around Astrid's head to see him coming up with Gobber, Spitelout, Bertha, Brawlknife and Wolftooth and the other chiefs.

The chiefs. The thing.

The ships.

"Astrid?" he asked, ducking his head into her neck, holding her as tightly as he could against his hard armour.

"Yes?" she replied, her breath on his neck making him shiver.

"Remember when I promised you later?" he went on quickly as his father navigated the crowd. "It's soon. Real soon. But right now …"

He felt lips on his neck, and it was all he could do not to do something embarrassing.

"Go," she murmured. He moved away from her. The look in her eyes was rational, cool, collected. She was thinking, quietly and quickly. There was also so much … trust, there.

He felt like a worm for even having thought about … leaving. Still, there was one thing he could do; offer. He could offer all he had, and spend whatever time he had to make that trust stay there. If she took him up on it …

He'd know, later. Bolstered by the emotion in Astrid's eyes, the feeling of having her at his back as well as Toothless, he turned to look at his father.

Stoick stopped the moment he caught sight of him, the smile melting off his face. Apparently, either he looked frightful, or serious enough to get his point across.

"Dad, call everyone to the hall. We need to talk. Now."

Stoick nodded. The crowd around him was jubilant with the return of the beloved missing members of their community, and all the new darlings, some of whom could barely walk. Hiccup was almost sad; he wished this had happened at a different time, so that he could have just sat back and enjoyed this. His heart tugged when he remembered the tiny one he'd cradled for the whole trip, and how he wished he could just stop time so that he could take a moment to be happy for Toothless.

But it wasn't happening. Not yet, anyway.

Later. It had better damn happen, later.

=0=

Letting him walk with his father was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. All she wanted to do was drag him to a secluded spot, forget the world for a few hours and let herself drown in the fact that he was alive.

She hadn't even told him he'd kept his promise. Snoggletog was tomorrow.

"Astrid!" She turned around to find Fishlegs coming up to her quickly, holding … oh lord, Stormfly!

By the time Fishlegs made it through the gaggle of people around her, Stormfly had had a much easier time jostling folk out of her way, and the brilliant blue nadder lowered herself as three little wide-eyed babies gave Astrid beady, excited looks. clover moved in, lending the tinies his tail so they could come down without toppling, and there was a gaggle of cackles and chirps from all around the plaza as people laughed and held the fledglings in their arms. Astrid was no better, the tiny ones trying to climb all over her as she tried to keep all three in her arms; they were no larger than her forearms.

"I can't believe it, look at all the little babies!" Fishlegs said enthusiastically. Some of them can even fly! Look at this little guy!" One of Meatlug's babies was butting into the large man's shoulder, looking adoringly at the blond man as it tried to land on his back, scrabbling against his fur and making tiny little squeaks and pops. Ruffnut came up next, her zippleback following with Tuffnut on Fart's head, a baby zippleback curled up on his helmet.

"Yeah," she said, looking around at the village milling in the early morning. The sun wasn't even due for another few hours yet, but everyone was out, even the little children. Ætta was racing after Hiss, the terror apparently returning childless, but almost more energetic than it had left as the little girl laughed and ran after him. There was an air of general joy, laughter and various dragon vocalisations in the air, as if the holiday had come a day early.

Hiccup's face, though … and- wait a minute.

"Toothless?" she asked, looking in askance at the night fury that trotted up to her, giving her experimental sniffs. There was something odd about him, something … "You're not Toothless!"

The night fury blinked, and Astrid just stared for a moment as the mirror image walked up, only the one who'd been sniffing at her had brilliant, glacier blue eyes. Both of them had their mouth ajar, and Toothless, she realised, was slightly larger. This dragon seemed to be immensely curious, eyes as dilated as they would go as she gave Toothless a sniff first, and then Astrid. Then she turned to the various humans around, sniffing them eagerly as if she were an excited six year old being shown into the shop of a toy wood-cutter.

"You night furies don't … eat people, right?" Fishlegs asked, and Toothless gave him a nonplussed look that belonged squarely on Hiccup's face.

"I think she's just excited," Astrid said placatingly, looking down at the fidgeting little dragons in her arms that were somehow staying still enough not to fall. Astrid gave the two furies a judging look. "So … what about you guys, then? I don't think you found yourself a girlfriend just to compare wing-spans…"

"You think that's a female?!" Fishlegs asked, that sheen of manic excitement Astrid knew well sliding over his face. He and Hiccup were terrible together, but she somehow couldn't help wanting to see more of it. Exchanging a look with Ruff, she knew it the other woman felt the same - though Fishlegs probably got clobbered for it a great deal.

"Don't see what else she can be, huh girl?" Stormfly gave a warble Astrid knew to be a yes, and that was all the answer she needed. "So, what is it, Toothless. Still trying to convince her you're a good catch?" And the indignation on his face was priceless. It really was like talking to Hiccup sometimes. She watched in amusement as he tottered up to her, then lowered his head and dropped something terribly wet and slimy on her boot. "Och, Tooth- Toothless!"

He licked his lips, looking relieved as he yawned, and the female came up and did the same. Two slimy, jet-black eggs with marble-like flecks were decorating her boots, soaking the fur through at the top. Astrid felt excitement bloom within her too. Night fury eggs. Night fury hatchlings!

"Does Hiccup know about this? Of course he knows about this - oh, can I tell someone about this?!" Fishlegs suddenly gushed. Astrid's eyes widened and she hit Fishlegs with the only thing available to her; her face.

"I get that he can be annoying," Ruffnut said in mild amusement, looking down at the knocked out man with gronkle babies blinking at him in puzzlement. "But why did you headbutt my husband?"

"We need to keep this shut tight. All of us." She looked around them sternly, quickly putting the nadder babies back on Stormfly and Clover before picking an egg up and wrapping a cloak around herself. Ruffnut, sensing the urgency, kicking Fishlegs awake, filched his jacket and did the same with the other egg. Fishlegs blinked, looking confused and slightly annoyed. "Everyone's taken up with their own dragons - people don't seem to have noticed there are two of Toothless yet. We have to keep that hushed. Come on," she said gently, addressing the goofball of a black dragon, who was lolling his tongue at her as he looked insistently between her face and his hidden egg. "Why don't we get you two comfortable in the dragon barns, shall we? You can take care of them better there. You too, Stormfly. I'm sure I can get Hoark to keep Fireworm with her mate tonight."

"Why all the secrecy?" Tuffnut asked, still following on his zippleback, which did an excellent job of hiding the fact that there were two night furies between the darkness and his bulk as they exited the plaza.

"Do you have any idea what people would do, to have a night fury as a dragon?" Astrid hissed, holding the egg tighter to herself. Something inside gave a tiny tap, and she shuddered at the feeling. "We are going to be training people next spring. Odds are, every single one will want a night fury if they know there are any available at all. These are Toothless' children; I'm not letting anyone lay claim on them before they're even out of the shell."

"Makes sense," Fishlegs said reluctantly. He bit his lip. "But can I take notes about their habits, and how long it takes for the eggs to hatch, and …"

"Fish," Ruffnut drawled, "breathe."

"I can't say yes to any of that, you know that," Astrid replied as they entered the barn. Toothless moved ahead, scratching at the stone he usually slept on as the female gave it an approving sniff. The pair flamed it up together and then curled up, body to body. Astrid put the egg down between them with a smile, and once Ruff had put the other, the two dragons extended a wing over each other and curled up into a knot of seemingly never ending limbs. Stormfly and Clover took up the two other stalls, the tiny ones flopping into the hay and quickly curling up. Too much excitement for little heads, it would seem. "I think as far as that goes, Hiccup will have it covered. Toothless is his family, after all."

"Well, part of it," Fishlegs conceded, though he kept sneaking both dragon families interesting peeks. Astrid nodded, smiling in thanks.

"Hey guys?"

"And I'm sure he'll let you in on the notes. I mean, with all the dragons coming back with their young, he'll have his hands fully taking notes on them all."

"Guys?"

"True," Ruff replied. "You're going to have your hands full yourself, husband - I'm not scooping up baby gronkle shit. I deal with Woodnut shit. That's more than enough."

"Well, if you put it that way…

"GUYS!"

They blinked at one another and peeked out of the barn, where Tuffnut had remained on Flat-Fart.

"What do you want?" Ruff asked.

"Oh, nothing important," he replied in annoyance. "Only to tell you that everyone has moved to the Great Hall. And I mean everyone everyone. There's no one left outside."

"I didn't hear any horns?" Fishlegs said, though it was more of a question as he looked at the two women.

"Maybe it was passed on by word. Come on," Astrid said worriedly. Hiccup's tense, serious expression returned to the forefront of her mind and she raced forward, trusting the others to follow and frowning up at Tuffnut as he yelled 'Losers!' down at them, flying off on Flat-Fart.

"Idiot!" she hissed, but hurried on.

The Hall was full to the brim when she arrived, barely any space between human and dragon. There was a fuzzy din of hushed whispering - as hushed as it got with a bunch of Vikings in the room - but the mood had certainly shifted. The looks on people's faces now were worried, and the groans and murmurs urgent and frustrated.

Astrid elbowed her way in none-too-gently, trying to catch a word of what they were saying. Danger, attack, pre-emptive strike. The pit of her stomach gave a summersault the more she heard. People began moving away from her as the yelps of pain of those who didn't do it fast enough began to get louder, and by the time she was in front, she could see that the chiefs were sitting at a table facing the people, discussing things among themselves and among those at the front of the crowd. She quickly crossed the small space between the first people and the table, sidling up to Hiccup. He was absorbed in what was being said, but as soon as she pressed against him, an arm came around her waist almost unconsciously.

It was a nice feeling. She wished she had a moment to savour it properly. She'd been wishing that a lot, recently.

"Toothless and his … friend are ok. I put them in the stable - out of sight," she muttered to him. Stoick and Brawlknife's voices rose in the background and Hiccup listened to them before he turned his eyes to her.

"Thanks," he whispered back. The crowd in front of them erupted. Astrid fisted a hand around Hiccup's buckles.

"Hiccup, what's going on?" she asked urgently. His eyes turned to her again.

"Berseker ships. I spotted some headed straight for us, filled with soldiers to the brim. There are at least two hundred of them."

"Ships?" she asked, panic blooming in her throat.

"No," he replied urgently. "Berserkers, on those ships. Toothless' mate either took care of the rest, or there was just debris left, but… I think that's all that left of their armada."

"Oh Frigga's oats," Astrid said, eyes widening. She shuddered as she realised what, exactly, the looming threats and worries in hushed whispers between the heirs had been about. "They were coming with the armada? They were going to attack Berk?!"

"You didn't know?" Hiccup asked, his arm tightening around her. "I thought my dad would tell you!"

"I think he probably assumed you had, master scatter brain," she replied with some annoyance, rubbing her forehead.

"Oh, yeah," he replied sheepishly. She shook her head. "Still, they're a good few hours away - the thirty ships left are still pretty banged up, and they were using oars."

"How is it that since you came back, we've always had fore-warning of an attack?" she asked, looking up at him cheekily. He gave her preening look.

"The gods must like me," he replied sarcastically. "They throw dung in my face, but at least they send me a written invitation first."

"Famous last words…"

"Oi!"

"We can't do that!"

They were startled out of their hushed conversation by someone shouting from the crowd.

"What folly is this, letting them land and then taking them? We should grab the dragons and go sink those rotten bastards right now."

"That's true! Light them on fire while they're still on the deeps, and let Ras take care of them!"

"Why should we give them time to land on Berk and cause havoc?"

"We cannot know," Stoick began, silencing most of the shouts, "what weaponry they have. Would you risk your lives and the lives of our dragons if they have harpoons or catapults? My son could not risk a close look, not without endangering all of our dragons. And they have their young to protect, too."

"Stoick's right," Bertha said reluctantly. "I want to go out there and smash'em. But if I know that mad bastard, he has something up his sleeve even if almost all his fleet is gone. He wouldn't still be headed this way."

"But he's utterly deranged," Wolftooth said with a shrug. "He could just be headed on the course because he wants to go up in a flaming effigy of crisp-boned maddness."

"I know, but I don't want to take the chance." Stoick rubbed his face. "We just got our dragons back, all of us. Even if we managed to convince them to go out to battle with us, they're tired after a nine-hour flight. We don't know how long we have- Hiccup, how long do we have?"

"At least ten hours," he answered. "They should start showing on the horizon, then. They didn't spot us, I'm sure of that, but I don't think we have any more than ten hours. They're coming from the South, not the North West. They either got turned around, or … they were rowing. They won't be here before ten hours."

"At least the dragons should be able to rest," Thuggory said, looking down at Fanghorn, who was snoring sonorously.

"Very well," Stoick said tiredly. "Hiccup, lad. I need to talk to you; then I'll let you get an hour's sleep. Which you will take." Stoick gave him a look when he opened his mouth. "You too, Astrid." It was her turn to be quelled by a look. She was sure her mother was still hunting her down to try to medicate her in one way or another. Curse the day the Goethi had taken her on as assistant quack.

"Alright," Hiccup sighed. Astrid heard the timber in his voice, the nasal quality of it deeper than usual. He was really tired…

"I'll go to the hall. Get things readied up for a rest," she said, moving away.

She heard him call after her, but she ignored it for the moment. She really needed to go to the hall, put some fresh linen out, and hope that he wouldn't mind sharing upstairs with her - they could discuss the permanence of it later, but for now, she really wished to sleep that soundly.

Still, there was one other place she needed to go first.

She rushed there quickly, cutting through the village and the woods as fast as she could run, some of her muscles still aching badly from her exposure to the cold and her inability to sit still with so much to do. She tripped a few times, her coordination still not back to it's optimal levels, but she arrived at her shrine as quickly as she could.

The sun was just beginning to rise, a white-gold glow on the edge of the horizon as it all went pink and orange. it looked like it would be overcast and grey later, but sunset and sunrise were always the time when Berk looked at its best. Her shrine could have been glowing, for all the hues that were being born around it. The new halo of tree leaves supporting the rise looked black against the light, and the stone, still dew-wet, looked like it had been there forever, and would remain there till Ragnarok took everything away, Mjolnir figures still clicking against its sides in the short bursts of breeze.

Astrid approached it carefully, the terrain still seeming new and unsteady under her feet despite the fact that it was only minimally altered. She couldn't shake off the feeling of that night, when the water churned beneath her and the wind tried to assist it in gobbling her up. So she knelt down besides the pile of stones, held together by leather thongs and moss and prayer, and laid her hand palm down on it.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking over the stones at the rising sun, branches of leaves mirroring the branches of light, both reaching up into the sky. For that single moment, Astrid allowed herself to feel; happiness, relief - so much relief - and a bone-tired weariness that came from the last few days of racing against everything the gods threw at them.

They weren't even done yet.

Astrid paused for a few minutes, her palm still on the shrine as the sun climbed up higher. She'd go when it was half-way up, but for now, she just wanted a moment of peace, so her insides could catch up with her outsides. It was peaceful, quiet and beautiful, the ocean waves below a lullaby instead of a roaring beast.

"Hey."

She jerked, realising she'd almost fallen asleep with her eyes open. She turned around to find Hiccup, standing just at the tree-line, resting bodily against a trunk.

"Dad told me I'd find you here…" He looked around, and then slid down the tree with an oomph, sitting splay legged and looking exhausted. He needed to rest in a clean bed.

"I'll come back with you," she said with a smile, rising and walking towards him. She offered a hand, which he took, but he began tugging at it insistantly instead of rising, and wouldn't relent until she sat. He kept giving her a closed mouthed smile, a constant gaze he almost didn't blink through, which kept her silent.

"No need," he replied, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "It's Later."

=0=

Astrid blinked at him tiredly for a moment, and he just had time to notice her frazzled braid, her halo of unkept hair sticking up in odd directions as he'd never seen it. Her eyes were bloodshot, the skin around it puffy. She looked completely tired out.

He knew he'd said they would talk after the Thing, that they would need to wait until they had proper time, but now … he wasn't sure if they had till tomorrow.

He turned to look at the pile of stones he'd found her beside. His father had told him he would find her in this spot, close enough to Raven's Point he could see hear the birds on the wind. The sun was rising, tendrils of watery light trying to filter into the dense post-storm air and managing very ill indeed as some cloud banks got in its way before it had even been birthed by the sea.

It was a mound of stones and rocks, piled on top of one another and woven into a net of what looked like leather strips. The waves beat against the rocks in a steady rhythm, and the breeze was strong; the clicks caught his attention.

"What's that?" he asked, nodding towards the rock pile. Astrid looked behind her, then bit her lip and hid her face in his chest. He'd removed some of his armour and gone into the hall, just in case his father had been wrong, only to find it empty. He'd started a fire and filled in a tub for her; now she wouldn't have to do it. The walk here had been almost more than he could endure, however, as his stump was throbbing in a vicious, continuous manner, feeling tight and hot against the sock and wooden cup around it.

She didn't answer for a while, and he was too tired to fight her. He curled his hands around her back, pressing his finger pads into her tense back through her clothing as he breathed her in. Her hair smelt fantastic, of honey and sweat, and the air around them was fresh, crisp, but almost didn't smell like Winter anymore. The sunlight finally reached their spot, bathing them in that watery golden glow that reminded him of that morning, months ago, when she'd called his name and tipped his world slightly sideways.

"Astrid," he said, nudging her slightly. If she had fallen asleep, they had a problem. He was in no shape to carry her back to the village not with his leg, but he didn't have the heart to wake her. He didn't fancy sleeping out here, but Toothless was understandably reluctant about leaving those eggs, so the grass would be his pillow. At least he would be hers; that wasn't a bad prospect in life. Hiccup Haddock, occupation; Astrid's pillow.

She sighed against his chest, however, raising her head to look up at him.

"You will not laugh at me. Or make fun of me. Or be weirded out. You are not allowed to be weirded out. Understood?"

Hiccup blinked, weirded out already, and she slapped his chest. He snorted, trying to contain the corners of his mouth as he nodded reverently. She hit his chest again.

"So you're just going to hit me now when you don't want to answer a question?" he asked, nonplussed. "Is this the way it's going to be? 'Astrid, what's for dinner?' And off goes the right hook!"

"Ever the jester," she mocked playfully. She nudged his side with a finger, making him twitch. Her face lit up, and he quickly grabbed both of her hands.

"Don't you dare," he said with trepidation.

"I had forgotten you were ticklish," she said, eyes bright and predatory. She tried to loosen her grip, but he held on tight. "Oh come on, for old times' sake?"

"Nope, not happening," he replied, trying to contain the tears as she twisted his wrists viciously to try to get away. "Although I would appreciated if you could not break my wrists. Before a battle. I tend to need those."

Astrid huffed, her shoulders sagging with an eyeroll as she relented. "Fine," she said, her voice only moderately amused. Hiccup sighed too, sorry to have reminded her of their impending situation. "I still have to tell you, too, huh?"

"What?" Hiccup asked, lacing his fingers with hers so that he could stop her from going for a sneak attack, while at the same time sneakily stroking her hands with his thumbs himself.

"I forgot because we stopped being friends," she said, her voice so low he could barely hear it over the soft noise of waves far below. "And we stopped being friends because … well, because…"

"Hey, we've been over that." he said with a sigh, clearing his throat when a ball of dread settled there. His hand still held hers as she sat on his knees with her knees curled at his waist, so he gently put his forehead against hers. "Let me go first, OK?"

She blinked at him. "I thought you'd try to delay as long as possible."

"I would," he said, sighing and closing his eyes, almost scared to look at her as he said this. His heart had already begun to pick up speed, a strange taste in his mouth as if impending heartache had settled on his palate. But he'd look her in the face for this; she deserved that, at least. He opened his eyes. "I learned that it's useless to delay. The bite at the end just takes more strength."

"Ok," she replied. She looked almost as worried as he was - it both fed the panic racing in the pit of his chest and made him feel better, to think that she valued all this too. But it also meant there was more to hurt, and more to lose… Ok. No more delaying.

"Ok," he repeated, swallowing hard to remove the embarrassing squeak in his voice. "So I've said I've done a few things I wasn't proud of … um, let's start with the fighting stuff. Right. So I learned to fight."

"So you stopped being Hiccup the drops-a-weapon," she teased with an encouraging smile. "What's to be ashame of?"

"How. And why," he breathed. He let his head fall back against the tree trunk, looking up at the leaves. The sun's glow was up half the trunk, but the leaves were still in darkness and the contrast was blinding. "I told you that I've traded in the Eastern Capital, right?" He saw her nod in his peripheral vision. "Well, while I was there on trade, the city was shut down because it was attacked by a people called the Goths. Toothless was stuck outside, I was stuck inside, and … we found each other, eventually, but I couldn't just leave." He swallowed. This was becoming easier as he spoke, his hands and fingers caressing her warm palms. "So … I stayed. After the whole thing with the Picts, I never brought Toothless into battle with me - I didn't want people to know what I could do with dragons, and I wasn't about to put us both in danger. But I was already pretty handy with a sword from a few lessons I'd paid for, and …"

"Go on," she said, resting her cheek against his collar.

"I killed … quite a few people," he choked out. "They were brutal, took no quarters. They didn't breach the city walls, but the lower town … there were the poor there. Mothers and children, and those who didn't make it inside the fortifications. I had some allies with me, they were called Saracens - and I know this isn't an excuse but … They were ferocious and bloodthirsty. And in the heat of it, I ended up enjoying it. I started out protecting the others but … by the end of it, one of them stripped off his clothes and ran out the walls, killing every one of the enemy soldiers in sight. He even cut off this man's head and drank the blood while the head was still blinking."

Bile rose to his throat and he swallowed it down harshly.

"I laughed, with the others," he went on hoarsely. "And I know we're Vikings but …"

"It's fine," Astrid murmured. "I understand. The fact that you feel this now means you're no worse a person than you were before."

"I beg to differ," he said thickly.

"Do you think I'm heartless?" she asked. He reacted with predictable indignation on her behalf - which she was probably counting on. "Well, I used to enjoy killing dragons. Your father too. It used to give me a thrill, to see their blood spilling, know it's them and not me this time."

Hiccup blinked down at her, unsure what to say. The only thought made his stomach turn, and he knew that, with him gone, someone was going to face that nightmare in the ring. With Astrid being an accomplished warrior, there was little chance that she hadn't killed; then and since.

"Do I disgust you?" she said quietly, and there was real fear in her eyes.

"Never," he replied quickly. She swallowed as thickly as he had.

"Because I look at Toothless, and Stormfly, and Ætta with her terror, and I know I was as good as killing children in their sleep. Sure, they were sharp-toothed, fire-breathing children, but they still were innocent. They didn't even raid us because they wanted to."

They sat in silence for a moment, looking at one another.

"I don't hold it against you. You didn't know, and it was kill or be killed," Hiccup replied. Astrid nodded sadly.

"You were in battle, too. It's brutal; makes you do things you'd never thought you could. Hiccup, it will probably happen again, for the both of us." She looked at him worriedly, both of them thinking and trying not to think of what else would climb the horizon in a few hours, after the sun.

He nodded. His stomach got into more knots. "And I was fighting because I had something of my own to protect."

"Sepha?" Astrid asked, her voice thin. He nodded.

"She wasn't in the city. Thank the gods she'd decided to stay behind some weeks before, but she was in a village close enough that they would have felt the backlash; she'd just started a new life, and if the battle had spilt over, I …"

Astrid was looking up at him, white as a ghost, gnawing at her bottom lip.

"You cared for her," she said, sounding strangled. "It's normal."

"It's not even…" Oh, oh Gods. How was he going to explain this? How was he going to say what they had and hadn't been, when he barely understood it himself? It had been a strange place, between them, no place and every place at once. He swallowed hard, biting his lip as panic made his breath come in short. "We …"

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breathe.

"We were lovers," he said, his heartbeat rushing in his ears as all the horror of her many possible reactions blanketed his mind. "But not really. We shared a bed, I …"

He closed his eyes, his cheeks flaming as his throat dried out of words. He hadn't finished, he was so far from having aired all the sins, but he couldn't get past this one without her reaction. He'd had a lover; he wasn't sure if he was ok with it, knowing now that he'd been engaged to her, so he couldn't imagine what Astrid was feeling.

"You mean … only one?" she asked. Her tone was strange and jarring, dissonant with all the ones he had been expecting. "You only had one lover?"

Hiccup blinked at her. "What?" he asked, unable to process her question.

"I thought … I mean, with you cutting your ties with Berk, and travelling the world, I'd assumed…" Her face went crimson as she shrugged, looking up at him through her lashes. Her fingers clamped down on his hand, and he realised he needed to relent his grip, even as hers went into creaky-bone territory. Her words took a moment to register, and he wasn't sure whether to be flattered or indignant when they did.

"What, you took me for one-in-each-port kind of guy?" he asked, and it was the indignation that came through. She huffed at him, tugging at his hands, her sheepishness melting away as a frown took over. She jolted him with her shoulder; apparently she was unwilling to let his hands go. Good sign. His stump gave a spasm at being jarred, but he ignored it as best he could. His head felt stuffy and confused, his teeth on edge from everything that was hanging on the balance.

"No, but I just thought that … well, most men would have had … a few more." Astrid looked down, her cheeks still highly coloured and looking like a peach with the sunlight behind her illuminating the fine hairs on her skin. The golden disk was slowly climbing up from the sea over her shoulder, their precious time trickling away.

"Not that you hadn't noticed, with all this so close," he replied sarcastically, pointing at himself with his chin. "but I don't usually fall under the category of 'most men'." He took a long breath, letting it out through his teeth. "...So, anyway, that's … better than you expected, I guess?"

"I … I'm not sure if it's better or worse," she replied, sounding lost.

"That's reassuring," he groaned.

"I - It's just that … if you had only one, it must have … she must have been, I mean, really important …" She bit her lip and looked away.

Gods, oh gods, she'd gone there. Forseti, please, let this come out right.

"Astrid, I … it's not like… It …" How was he going to say this? How? He'd thought about it ten thousand times, dreaded it, gone cold at it, but he'd somehow never remembered to prepare himself, to try to form a coherent way to tell her.

"You don't have to justify yourself," she said quickly. Too quickly. "You didn't know, about the arrangement I mean." It was back to being 'the arrangement'. Oh gods. "I know that she was the most beautiful woman on Midgard to you, and I don't mean to measure up, or replace her, I just …"

His insides stopped in a puddling mess of confusion. What? What?

"I'm holding her," he said, his voice reedy, because he couldn't quite get his lungs to work. He felt dizzy.

"What?" she asked, sounding just as confused as he felt.

"The most beautiful woman on Midgard. I'm holding her," he repeated. Astrid gaped like a hooked fish for a few moments before snarling.

"I'm warning you. Don't shit with me, Hiccup Haddock. Don't lie to make me feel better. You can do many things that I'll forgive, but treating me like an idiot isn't one of them."

"I'm not!" he insisted vehemently, his breath coming short. "I, look, I- when I …" He swallowed several times, closing his eyes and trying to make his mind think.

Astrid's forehead came up against his again, and he opened his eyes, her face close enough to make him move back to look at her.

"Breathe," she commanded, though her voice was worried and tender. It made his chest leap harder before he nodded, making an effort to slow his breathing as he blinked at the sunrise, now almost completely free of the water.

"When I met Sepha," he started, pausing to clear his voice when it cracked. "I was bleeding out on the grass, somewhere in the hills of Albion, after the Picts had given me this," he twitched his cheek, "and the rest of the pretty scars on my chest. She dragged me to her tent and medicated me, and … I think I would have died if she hadn't. They'd left me for dead."

He paused, trying to gather his thoughts, trying to find a way to say this properly. Astrid squeezed his hands in encouragement.

"She didn't speak a word of Norse, and I had no idea what on earth she was babbling. Somehow we got by … I guess I'd grown used to reading body language with Toothless, and it came in handy. I .. she …"

How was he going to say this?

"She followed the armies. She'd only just started doing it because her family had all been wiped out with an illness, and she had no way of surviving otherwise. She told me this later, when we managed to say a few things to one another, and …"

How?

"She had … blonde hair, like yours, and I…" His mouth opened a few times before he continued. "I'd never been with anyone. She hadn't really wanted to be what she was, and when she …" he squeezed his eyes shut. "I didn't refuse her when she … offered."

How?

"Her hair was a similar colour to yours, and when I woke up the first time, I couldn't see well, and for a little while, I thought it was you. I kept .. saying your name and by the time I'd come to, she knew that I…"

He shrugged. Astrid wasn't saying anything, and he didn't dare look at her.

"She had been married, before the sickness took it all away. When I had recovered, she told me she would teach me. So that I could…" his cheeks flamed. He couldn't finish the sentence. But he had to finish the thought. "I never thought I'd have- never thought I'd be with you, Astrid. Not then, and I hardly believe it now." He winced. "If you'll still have me, that is, now that …"

"Hiccup…"

"Please let me finish," he cut her off, the words now almost begging to leave his mouth. Now that he'd started telling her, he couldn't stop. "I didn't just sleep with her, Astrid. We sort of had an agreement, Sepha and I and … I thought of you the whole time."

It came out in a rush, his throat clogging with shame the moment he said it. He couldn't look her in the face at all, turning to look at the grass he was sitting on. Her hands in his froze. "I didn't know I was engaged to you, I didn't even think I would even ever see you again back then. I was just this … fifteen year old … lust-filled …" he couldn't finish it, the blood rising to his ears further and clouding his head. "I shamed you, so badly, Astrid."

His breathing felt loud in his ears, though his heartbeat was turning almost everything else into fuzzy noises. She had gone rigid, her hands in his still and tense, nails digging into the soft tissue between his knuckles.

"How long did…"

"Months," he bit off. "Almost a year."

"And, every time, you …"

He nodded, quite unable to speak anymore. He didn't want to tell her that Sepha had thought of her husband in the same way - somehow, it felt like an excuse, like trying to lessen his sin to her. She had barely ever spoken to him before he left, barely looked his way, but his mind had been full of her as he slept with Sepha. He'd made love to Astrid for months, without her knowledge or consent.

The quiet was choking him. "Please." It came out in a hiss. "Say something."

She shifted, still stiff as she sat on his knees, nails still cocked into his knuckles painfully.

"Hiccup…" she started, voice thin, but with a certain quality to it that made his stomach lurch. "A man's fantasies are his own," she said kindly.

Oh gods. "Yes, but not like this," he replied, still unable to look at her, his chin touching his chest.

"Hiccup. Please, look at me," she said, almost as if she could read his mind. He forced his head up, never able to deny her anything, especially now. Her face was a mask of confusion and uncertainty, and her cheeks were still flushed red. "Look, I … I won't pretend it isn't weird. It's weird. You were sleeping with another woman and thinking of me while you were … yeah." She didn't shudder. Hiccup chose to take it as a good sign. She was the one looking away now, and Hiccup simply could not take his eyes off every twitch, every minute movement, trying to decipher what she was thinking.

"Do I disgust you?" he echoed, looking at her steadily. When her eyes snapped to his, he felt all the blood drain from his face as he waited. The answer was yes. He was sure the answer was yes.

"Never," she repeated, though her voice was wavering and unsure, and it was like she'd kicked him in the chest.

"You don't need to lie," he forced out.

"I'm not," she replied, her brow furrowing. "I just … it's different. Not what I thought at all. And strange and a little…" she floundered for a word, and in the end just gave an eloquent, uncomfortable shrug. "But I guess… if you'd known we were engaged, it would be different. I could get angry, then, and say it was an excuse … but you didn't. And it's strange but …" her cheeks went redder. "I guess, it's no different than some things I thought. I just never- I mean I couldn't- act on them."

"Act on …" he choked, not sure he'd understood.

"You and I and- " Another eloquent shrug. "When Ruff got married, I got let into the purifying bath because I was engaged to the son of the chief. You. I was engaged to you so they let me in." Astrid swallowed, her turn to fidget nervously. "They gave Ruff all sort of advice. And stories about, well, you know." She licked her lips nervously, her eyes darting to his and away like a nervous deer. "I suppose I started wondering what it would be like, once you were back."

"Um…" he said awkwardly. "I … I don't mind. That's different, because you knew we were engaged and you weren't, I mean, didn't…"

"You left thinking I hated you. I knew that. I had even less right," she said, her eyes going wide. "I didn't even realise that I was … out of line. You did, at least." Her shoulders were getting more tense by the second.

"I don't mind," he repeated. "I've l…" He couldn't finish that. Not before … "I still don't think it's quite the same thing. I don't feel shamed by it, and …"

"Did Sepha know?" Astrid asked, looking supremely uncomfortable, but squaring her shoulders and forging on anyway.

He shrugged. "It was her idea," he finally conceded. "I'd been saying your name, and she had guessed that I l… She was thinking of her husband, too. It wasn't- anything- I mean-" He sighed, frustrated. "It wasn't a good place, what Sepha and I had. I see it now. But back then, beside Toothless, she was all I had. If you want to know whether I cared for her, then yes, I did. If you want to know if I would have married her … I think so." Astrid's face went pale as newly fallen snow. "But not because of anything other than … companionship. I thought it would be all I could get, because I couldn't stop- I couldn't stop thinking of you. And I just didn't feel for her what I do for you, but I didn't want to be … alone. Neither did she, and, if she hadn't met that fisherman, well. Things would be different."

They were quiet for a few moments, their breath mingling as they looked at one another tensely.

"I owe that fisherman, then," Astrid said strongly. "A lot."

Hiccup felt his eyes go wide, his heart picking up. "Astrid?" he choked out.

"If this is the worse you're going to tell me, then, I … It's strange, yes. It's … uncomfortable. But I thought of so many worse things." She looked at him with a laden sheen in her eyes, her jaw working. "For the longest time, I thought you were in love with her, and couldn't look at me because you were still faithful to her."

"What- how-"

"When you were drawing in the clay the day before the Red Death came, you told Toothless 'the most beautiful woman in Midgard', and then, when you were so sick after the battle, you kept calling for her, so much, so I thought-" There were actual tears in her eyes as she choked up, biting down hard on her lip. She breathed deeply for a few moments as he sat quietly, waiting to see if she'd continue. "It's why I was so angry, at the opening feast. You'd been so nice to me; and the axe; I'd forgotten about this … other woman you were supposed to love." He inhaled sharply and her eyes rose to his automatically, and then she couldn't seem to unstick them. He felt parched and drowning; completely naked under her stare. "When you went out there to dance with Sleet after you'd told me you couldn't, I just thought you couldn't stand with me because you didn't want the engagement. It … hurt. So I lashed out."

"It's ok," he replied. "I understand. I understand even better now. I would have been even more upset. And terribly jealous."

"I was, trust me," she said, her tone only ghosting over a joke, though they still smiled tentatively at one another. Her hands squeezed his and then shook his grip off before she touched him hesitantly, settling on palm curled on his shoulder pad while the other brushed the hair out of his eyes. His insides, already a turmoil of still-fearful emotions, jolted out of control, and he just let his face sink into her touch, kissing her palm. When she went tense again, he retreated quickly, apologising and looking away.

"And now that you know that," he said, his voice rough again, "I need to know what you want." It was time. The verdict was out, and the axe was in her hand.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Our … our engagement. You said that I was becoming important to you." His throat almost closed again as the possibility of losing that suddenly became very real, and he'd had no idea how close to his heart he had been keeping those words until now that they were going to be taken back. "I will understand, if … but I need to know, Astrid."

"What about you?" she asked, fidgeting. "If Sepha isn't this 'most beautiful woman', the one you were in love with, then who is…"

"I already told you," Hiccup replied, on tenterhooks to know her answer, more fearful every moment she dawdled. "It's you."

She stared at him for a moment. "You're in love with me?"

His breath stopped, dizziness clouding his eyes as he realised belatedly what he'd admitted. It was too much; too much, too soon, he was sure of it. His heart was beating so hard that it hurt, his lungs and chest feeling constricted and shrunken, like an over-worked muscle starved of air and water.

But it was useless denying it now. He opened his mouth, making his dry tongue move.

"I … I've been in love with you since I was twelve. Maybe younger." He looked at her steadily, trying to read her reactions, but she was staring at him blankly, like her mind had been switched off. Almost trembling, he went on. "I don't know, I … All I know is that how I feel really isn't a question here." He was risking his life, possibly even a broken nose and broken teeth, but he didn't care. What could be worse than this? And if she flinched and moved away, he'd know without saying anything. He bent down and kissed her head.

He didn't know what to feel when she didn't move at all. His heart twisted into a painful knot. "I, um, thought I was very lucky to come home and find myself engaged to you. It was like … Nana intervened, with Frigga and Freya together, for me."

She wasn't saying anything. She wasn't saying anything. Oh Odin's breath, she wasn't …

"But I really can't keep this engagement going if I don't know that you're … ok with it. And with… what I did." Silence. Another knot joined the first, and he blinked back burning eyes. "At least ok with it. That you at least like me and aren't doing this just out of duty, and that you'll not be miserable and I'll watch you be miserable beside me while I lo-"

She punched him in the gut, then, robbing his breath. He coughed helplessly, his dizziness getting worse until everything turned.

"That's for your lusty fantasies." His belly spasmed and he groaned. A feather-light, tentative kiss on his cheek preceded her moving forward, her knees coming up against his armpit as she curled up against his chest. He hesitantly put his arms around her, and when she didn't twist one of them off, a part of his chest collapsed with relief. "I can't say that it isn't weird, or that I … love you too." The second knot almost reformed. "But I don't know what that feels like, not really. I know how to love my mother and my father, my siblings and the children, but I- I'm not sure I know how I should love you. I want to try, though. Please."

He ducked his head, nodding against her crown. "Whatever you need," he replied with as much truth as he could pour into it.

"And don't worry about your … thoughts." One of her hands purposefully spanned his chest, slow and languorous, before it darted to his shoulder again and she hid her face in his neck. "As we found out in that shed, you're not the only one who has them, remember?"

"Yeah…" It was true, the shed Snotlout had locked them had come closest to seeing them become lovers - and the thought alone almost made him shudder. But this seems more raw, somehow. With all the bravado stripped away, and passion a simmering heat rather than a blazing fire, it all seemed more real, and thus more tangible and fragile.

"I want to be your wife, Hiccup," she went on, and the knots in his heart began to loosen more rapidly, the first thrills of happiness beating through. It may also have been relief. Or a heart attack. If he wasn't dead by tonight, he'd be alright. "I want to learn how to care for you as you do, and be your- your lover. I've certainly thought about it. Since you've been back."

Her voice was small, but it made him light headed anyway.

"Oh…" he said, feeling lost. He had no idea what he was supposed to feel. He had never considered himself desirable; it hadn't crossed his mind, even after the shed, and after she'd said it afterwards. He'd heard the words, but they hadn't really sunk in. But now everything was stripped completely bare, and there was nowhere left to hide, so her words sunk all the way to the bottom of him.

Astrid wanted to be his lover, and his wife. It was … enough. More; way, way more than enough.

They spent a few moments in silence again, this one slightly less tense and awkward. The sun had left the sea by a hair, and it shimmered on the waves in blazing white flecks. It occurred to him that he hadn't told her he wanted to be her husband, but suddenly blurting it out after a pause seemed horrible. So he looked at the rock mound instead, and blinked.

"You never told me what that was," he realised out loud. Astrid looked up at him, following his gaze to the stones and then groaning. Then she sighs, resting her cheek against his chest and looking at the stones contemplatively.

"They're a shrine," she replied quietly. "I used to come here every morning; pray for your safety. It's why the carvings are so popular; if they kept your stupid head safe and sound all these years, they must work."

Hiccup snorted, banging his head back against the tree.

"I'm an idiot," he groaned. "An idiot and a monster and I should be flogged."

"What?" she asked, looking horrified.

"I … it's right there, isn't it," he waved at the shrine, feeling love and shame and anger at himself, all at once. "How much you care for me. It's written all over that thing! And your mother told me you came out here in the storm and got frostbite. And I was in that hut, debating whether to leave."

"What?!"

"You can punch my teeth out for this, I deserve it," he shouted, angry at himself as he knocked the back of his head against the tree again in frustration. "I was terrified of what you'd think once I told you of Sepha. Utterly, spitless scared. I was so afraid that you'd … despise me. Find me," he rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, his head lolling to the side. "disgusting, for thinking of you that way. And Berk has so many expectations, and my father, and I'm just me. But mostly it was … this. I was a coward; I was weak. I almost took Toothless and flew for it."

Astrid pinched the back of his hand, but not as much as he would have thought.

"You were that … torn up?"

"Astrid, I love you," and it was easier the second time. "Your opinion is the most important one in the world. If you'd hated me … and it wasn't only that, I won't lie to you. I was afraid of losing all my freedom. I hadn't been flying with Toothless in an age, and … Chief, Astrid. They want me to be chief. Me."

"You'll be great," she sighed, her fingers soothing the skin she'd pulled. "And I'll be here. I'll knock as many heads for you as you need."

He snorted despite himself, and as the tension drained out of him, everything suddenly became fuzzy and terribly hilarious. He began laughing, holding her tighter.

"I've been so scared," he babbled. "So damn terrified. Every time I thought about telling you, about Sepha, it was all I could do not to be sick. And this damn Thing on top of everything…"

"It's not been easy," she said tiredly, curling up against him further.

"And then you quarrelled with me, and I was so worried… you haven't told me that, either." He nudged her gently. "Go on; I spilled my guts in a messy heap in your lap. You need to return the favour or it's not fair."

She blinked up at him, nonplussed.

"You know, why you were quarrelling with me?" She opened her mouth. "Before the dance?"

Her mouth closed abruptly, her eyes going wide before they began darting around. He clamped his arms around her and she glared at him terribly.

"No! No more secrets or escaping or evading! Later, remember?" He gave her a nudge with a mock stern look. "It's later. My secrets are all out. I'm fresh out of them. Your turn."

"You're going to think it's so stupid," she said, looking utterly horrified. "Compared to yours."

"So it's a little thing, good. I don't think I can do earth-shattering right now," he said with aplomb. She poked him in the ribs and he squirmed, then clamped his elbows around her arms. "Don't you dare, Astrid Hofferson. Now tell me; why were you so angry at me before the dance?"

"Hiccup-"

"Astrid!"

"You cut our baths short!"

He blinked at her, and she went completely scarlet, up to the roots of her hair. Her mouth clamped shut with an audible click.

"You mean to tell me," he replied, feeling even more light headed. "That you were mad because you didn't get to see me naked?"

"No! Yes!" She scooted backwards and covered her face with her hands. "That was part of it!" she wailed. Even her ears were crimson. Then she huffed, flinging her hands into her lap angrily and moving to sit on his knees again. "Ok. Whole truth, right?" He could only nod. "Then yes. Part if it was because I wanted to be .. close to you. Like that. I've said that I want to be your lover, don't make me say it again!"

He nodded again, trying to give her the thinking time she had given him, even though his brain was literally exploding with all the possibilities of this new … revelation.

Gods … really? She wasn't only saying it, or planning for it in the future. She wanted that sort of thing now?

"It's not only that. Stop thinking of me naked," she muttered.

"Oh," he said, wondering why it was suddenly wrong when not a moment before she'd been speaking about lovers and baths and-

"It's fine! It just distracts you and I need your head here right now!" Her voice went down to a whisper. "Don't make me say this twice."

He nodded slowly in realisation. "Ok. Thoughts about you wet and naked are put away for later." He deserved that elbow to the gut, but she was a lot less nervous when she chuckled helplessly.

"I grew up on stories of my mother telling me she and dad fell in love when they spoke in the tub. It's a wife's duty to help her husband, you know? And all the family. With your mum gone, you may not remember, but I really needed to be there for you. I mean, even if I didn't care, which I do. When you shut me out, it would have looked bad if people found out."

"So I messed up again?" he groaned. Her lips twitched.

"Only a little. Anyway, I had … I enjoyed that time. I'd begun to care for you already, you know. And I was hoping it could … happen again. Like my parents, I mean."

"I thought you wanted to be a shield maiden when your mother told you these things…"

"Obviously, I changed my mind," she said dangerously, giving him a full-on glare. "I'm thinking of changing it again!"

"Sorry, sorry! It's just that, you know, I'm sure a couple of your brothers were conceived in that tub, since they were already married and all, so I don't think it was just love your mother was talking about-" He got a sound slap to the head. "Ow!"

"Hiccup!" she admonished. Then her face fell. "See, I told you you'd find it stupid!"

"It's not! It's not stupid!" he said, defensively. "Really. It's just hard to wrap my head around the fact that you want me. It seems … impossible."

"Well, it's not. Get used to it."

Oh gods, could he get used to it. All the things they could do… the mind boggled. It literally felt like a boiled egg at just the thought.

"It wasn't even just that," she said with a shrug. Then she gave him a look that sent his heart racing for totally different reasons. "Though that was nice too. Half the village wants your beautiful arse, you know? But only I got to see it out of those tight leathers."

His insides creaked to a halt as he could only stare at her. Those trousers were … on purpose?!

She cleared her voice, flicking his nose. He could still only stare, and she chuckled. "Jokes aside …" she looked down. "That was the only time of the day … sometimes the whole week, when we were alone together. There was never any other time; sometimes your father, sometimes our friends, sometimes people of the village, it was always someone or something come to look for you or ask something or even just to talk. And in that tub, it was just us." She shrugged, going red again and getting her hair out of her face in a nervous gesture.

"I … you're right," he said, stunned. "I hadn't realised. I'm really sorry; I - they - meant something different, to me."

"They did?" she asked, almost timidly; which a few months ago he would have deemed impossible.

"Yes, I … well, apart from the obvious," he replied, prying his eyes away from her breast at her knowing look. "Look, you won't like this, but … it was … humiliating, for me."

"Humili-" she choked, looking more hurt than he'd seen her all morning. "How is letting the girl who cares about you be there for you when you need it humiliating!"

"You don't think so?" he replied challengingly. "If it were you, coming back to Berk after five years, waking up with half your leg gone. And then suddenly I'm there, naked as the day I was born, and getting you naked whether you wanted to or not; hauling you around like a child, and not showing the least bit of interest while I did it-"

"I was plenty interested!"

"It didn't seem that way!" he cut her off earnestly, trying to make her understand. "You never looked, never blushed or acted in any way that …" He shrugged. "I didn't know what to do with myself. And the thought that you were doing it out of duty… I didn't know it looked bad for you if you didn't, but I did know that you were doing it as my betrothed. And it … hurt, more than a little."

"Hiccup," she sighed. He tried to look as chagrined as possible.

"I was uncomfortable. I'm still a little uncomfortable, if I'm to be honest." He shrugged. "I'm uncomfortable with the fact that you've … cleaned me when I was peeing all over myself like an infant. I'm uncomfortable with the fact that you were taking my clothes on and off me while I was asleep because … no one's done that since my mother was around. I'm horribly uncomfortable that you've seen … all of this." He waved at himself. "We both know there's not much I have to offer. Well, even less now."

"I just told you-"

"I know, and I told you it's hard to believe. Come on, admit it." He rolled his eyes. "I can take the truth. You like me, and that's awesome, but I'm not … attractive, in the slightest. The sooner we get that out of the way, the better. I mean, you laughed when you walked in on me while I dressed, before we went to rescue the Hopeless ships."

"Because you fell over," she pointed out flatly.

"Exactly," he said, waving a finger. "Anyone else would have been too caught up in the embarrassing fact that I was practically naked to bother with the fact that I'd fallen over."

"Hicc- ...ungh," she said, sounding exasperated. "Hiccup, look, I'm used to seeing men in the buff. I have brothers; many of them. On wash day, we drag out the tub and it's … a family thing. Dad even likes to stay naked as long as possible. Mum hoped he would stop when my brothers brought their wives in, but nooo…." She sighed, her exasperation finding a new target. "But the truth is, your dad is the chief. You're the chief's son. You have certain privileges that you're used to and that other people don't have, like private baths."

"But you just said your parents bonded in the tub?" he asked, confused.

"They started a new hall, idiot, like Fishlegs and Ruff!" She threw her hands up and he tried to look as sheepish as possible, while at the same time remembering that gaggle of naked Vikings he'd walked in on before that horrid dance. "The bottom line is, I grew up in a crowded hall, I grew up helping my father and brothers wash every week. Don't expect me to cover my face and squeal when you're naked because … because I'm used to it. I've seen it all before and every man is mostly the same, just like every woman is mostly the same, and …"

"But it's supposed to be different, isn't it?" he asked, honestly confounded by her nonchalance. "When it's someone … you care for, someone you …" He couldn't say 'want' and felt utterly stupid for it. He just shrugged instead.

"Yes," she sighed. "It should. It is."

"So obviously, my point still stands, as you don't have any different reaction, that … there's nothing much to see under these clothes."

"Hiccup," she said, her tone dangerous. "When this is all over, I'm going to make you the tightest pair of trousers you've ever owned. And I'm going to sew you the shortest tunic this side of the North Sea. And then we're going for a walk around Berk. I'm going to parade you around like a prize stud, and all the women will be green with envy. Because every damn woman in the whole archipelago has looked at you, Hiccup. Twice. But you're mine."

"Been for ages," he said breathlessly, trying to make his head work and understand what she'd just said. It still seemed a great deal impossible.

"Good. And I'm yours, so that's settled."

He looked at her for a moment more, trying to understand. She'd said in one breath that she found him attractive, and the next that she thought him nothing above average, because she was used to naked men and he was a naked man and elicited no reaction from her. It made absolutely no sense to him, so he was either missing the point, or she was lying. Maybe to make him feel better, or … but Astrid didn't lie. So he smiled at her, deciding that, whatever the case, she seemed willing enough to try; and maybe he'd beef up a bit before he died, hopefully not with the gut, but ...

"You mean you … I mean, hypothetically…" he tried, and failed, to reign in his thoughts.

"Aha." He had no idea what she was confirming, but he was happy with it anyway.

"So you wouldn't mind if I, if we, say, start behaving like a real, I mean, couple?"

Astrid's face became predatory.

"Good, so everyone will be clear. You're nothing else. You're a couple. With me."

He blinked. "That doesn't even make grammatical sense," he moaned and it wasn't even out of his mouth before she was punching him. "Ow!"

"Wuss!" she said, happiness and eagerness on her face, and he grinned back when he realised she was waiting for his response.

"Your wuss," he murmured.

"And don't you forget it," she breathed back, her lips ghosting against his and leaving him panting and tilting his head after her, trying to capture her mouth. He'd been yearning to kiss her like she was the water to his drought for weeks, ever since that day in the Great Hall, when everything had almost gone to the dogs. Then he remembered there was one more thing … it somehow didn't seem so impending now, even though it was important. "Hey, Astrid?" he whispered, eyes still half-closed, lips still half caressing hers as she teased him, evading and rubbing his nose to hers.

"What?" she said tauntingly. She was probably waiting for him to beg. He would; in a moment.

"I want to ask you something," he said with a smile, looking at her own contented face. She seemed to sense the tenderness of his voice, because she didn't tense, and he was glad. "Astrid, I want to court you. Officially."

She looked confused, moving slightly back. He almost whined at the lack of her lips so close to his.

"We're promised," she said, as if he was a rather dull child. He snorted.

"On paper," he replied, "which is great, but … I want to court you. Give you gifts and take you places. Do special things for you. Try to see if I could, maybe," he hesitated, gave a nervous jiggle of his shoulders, "help you along that road from care to … something else?"

Her face went serious, and she frowned in thought. He held his tongue, even though a gaggle of babbling was banging at the gates of his teeth, trying to get out and embarrass him.

"I think I'd like that?" she said.

"Just think?" he asked worriedly at her uncertain tone.

"I reserve the right to change my mind if you do anything too sappy," she replied with a laugh.

"Astrid, 'courting' is the definition of 'sappy'," he said with a groan, and she chortled again. "I'll be leaving you flowers, and taking you places to be alone, and … writing you poetry and love letters…" His ears burned at the only thought.

"More love letters?" she asked, her eyes shining. "I'll have to add more hooks."

"Huh?" he replied intelligently.

"I mean… I found them. The words and the poem, on the axe." She looked like a child for a second, colour high and eyes bright. "And I'm sort of hoping that all your love letters are going to be written like that."

"...Oh," he muttered. "What have I gotten myself into…"

"Your fault for setting the standard so high," she smirked back, triumphant. "I'm going to be decked out in all this beautiful armour and weapons with all that lovely carving on it, and you'll be in those tight trousers, and everyone is going to be so damn jealous. Even the dragons!"

Hiccup gaped at her. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. He was going to be stuck in the forge for days but … if it put that look on her face …

"Oi," he replied, trying to keep the breathless quality from his voice as her elation went straight to his malnourished ego. "Then you knew how much I loved you. You were just giving me a hard time!" He couldn't help wanting to know what her first reaction to his poem had been, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say it.

"And how was I supposed to know?" she replied with a peaked brow.

"It's written on the axe, plain as day!" he said in mock annoyance. "You even called it a love letter!"

"Plain as day your left foot!" she replied, nudging his side and making him try to squirm away. His stump gave another tug of sharp pain that kept him from falling into the breathless, hiccuping laughs tickling usually produced. He clamped her hands in his again. "Haddock, you're as clear as mud. It wasn't plain at all! It was poetry, and confusing! Fishlegs had to explain it to me!"

"Fishlegs?" he asked, mortified. "Fishlegs saw my love poem?!"

"And Ruff and Tuff," she went on with a shrug, wrenching her hands away to fold her arms defiantly. "What of it? Were you planning on doing the courting in secret?"

"No, but-"

"Then it's not a problem." She punched his shoulder. "Because everyone needs to know that you're courting me. And that I'm all happy to be courted, and that no one else gets to have racy thoughts about you."

"Ok, ok… sheesh…" He felt his face grow hot even as it twisted with that incredulous, confused feeling in his chest at the thought - the thought that had sunk all the way into his chest this time, and anchored - that she wanted him. That she had a problem keeping her hands off him and she had a problem with other women looking.

"Not ok. I need to spend some time convincing you, it seems." She paused when he looked at her with wide eyes. And he never thought he'd do this, but …

"You mean, kill me?" he said with a leer. "Because I'm still waiting." Gods, he was goading Astrid Hofferson on while they spoke about sex. And love. Together.

Holy hell they were wearing too many clothes. But his oath! Oh, gods, he'd cock-blocked himself!

"Yes," she finally said, crimson in the face but straight backed. And her breasts just popped… aaand his eyes couldn't look away. Crap, crap, crap, crap… "And you can look at those all you like."

Oh boy. He had permission now? He was never going to get anything done again. Ever.

"Oh. Erm. I mean, ah…" Oh, suave. The leaves in the tree were swooning with his charm.

"Now," she said, scooting back down his shin to straighten her probably numb legs. He knew his were. "Let's get to the hall, get you clean … maybe we can catch some alone time in that tub," she whispered, looking through her lashes alluringly. His legs may be asleep, but another part of him certainly wasn't. "And then after that, maybe, I'll let you get some sleep, depending on how much fun killing you i- whoa!"

She moved back far enough to hit his stump, and suddenly his world was stars, colours and curses as he pushed her off with a hiss. She was in his ear immediately, asking what was wrong.

"There is something up with that leg. Oh, I knew I should have tied you down and just ripped your damn foot and trousers off! And it's later now, so don't you dare try to stop me!"

Oh dear gods, everything hurt, but he just wanted her to do that right now. Her hands were all over his face and he closed his eyes to it, her fingers cool against his skin and so very sharp.

"Hiccup, you idiot! You're running a fever! You're not warm because- you're hot because you're ill! Stupid man!"

Ah. So the light head and the fuzziness wasn't just Astrid's relative proximity.

He was suddenly hauled up and tugged away at a crisp pace he could barely keep up with, most of his weight hauled off his bad leg even though she was shorter. Her armour dug into his armpit, but it kept him focussed.

"This is doing wonders for my dignity. Are you going to parade your hot gimp stud now, or shall we wait for later?" he deadpanned.

"Smartarse. You always have to get the last word, don't you?" she told him, a mix of anger and worry in her voice, her face a mask of anxiety. He was sorry to see her like that.

"Always," he said, trying to wring a smile out of her.

"We'll see about that when I'm naked!" she replied. "Killing you."

The groan that escaped his mouth was not dignified in the slightest. But it put a slightly smug smile on her face above the worry, so it was worth it.

=0=

Stoick had just sat down on his chair a mug of warmed ale in hand and ready to doze off for a few hours until the designated Wakers ran the rounds of the village, or until something was spotted on the horizon.

His head was already bobbing, eyelids heavy, when his front door burst open and he was on his feet, hammer in hand, before he really knew how he'd moved.

"Stoick," Astrid said, her voice strained. "Give me a hand." Stoick blinked the mustiness out of his sight to see her holding Hiccup up, and quickly took his other arm. "Get him to his bed. I don't think he can walk up."

"What happened?" he asked urgently. Hiccup had been fine when he'd left the Great Hall to go after her not an hour ago.

"I don't actually know," she said, breathless with anxiety and fatigue. Stoick hadn't been the only one who had not slept a wink last night, and Astrid had been out in the cold. "He's running a fever; I think he's had an injury to his stump he's been hiding."

"I … why would he do that?"

"Because he's a man!" She yelled, thunder clouds gathering on her forehead as she stumbled with him towards the bed. She pulled the curtain half-shut behind them and began to strip Hiccup without preamble. "Please Stoick, I know you're tired, but go get Goethi, or my Mother. I think it's something worse than I can handle.

"Asta..." Hiccup murmured. "I already told you, I made you an oath. Not till the wedding night." Stoick blinked down between them, watching in bemusement as every visible patch of Astrid's skin became a darker and darker red.

"Please, Stoick? she said, a pleading note in her voice as she unclasped the various hooks and buckles on Hiccup's chest while avoiding his batting hands and serious glare, which were completely incongruous with the flush on his face and sweat on his forehead. "He's gotten worse on the way here. Please hurry."

His fatigue clung to him for another second before he shook it off and left in a hurry. All the people had been warned of the impending attack, and had been told to go home and pack their precious and essentials. The non-fighters would be moved to the safe beaches, while the the fighters had been ordered into ranks. Everything was placed and set to move the moment they received a signal, but he knew that at the moment most people were preparing; that was most true for the healers.

Still, his son was in need, and if Astrid's face was indication enough, as well as his rough breathing and flushed cheeks, he had better not delay any further.

He was out and back again as quickly as he could. Goethi had been none too pleased, but now she was spitting mad, because Stoick had actually grabbed her and carted her to his hall on his shoulder when she hasn't moved fast enough. He had a couple of terror bites he just knew she wasn't going to medicate out of spite.

Meanwhile, Astrid had managed to get him out of his clothes and into a pair of long sleeping trousers, but what stopped Stoick short was that she actually had tears streaming down her face.

"Astrid…" his son murmured.

"Shut up," she said back, her tone sad.

"Asta…"

"Don't you dare 'Asta' me! I'm so angry at you right now I could thump you!"

"How bad is it?" Stoick asked, closing the door behind him.

"How bad? I'll tell you how bad! If it were anyone else, he'd be hopping with fever and wailing with pain! I don't even know how he's walked on it. For days to get it like that!" She spared a moment to glare at him furiously. Hiccup did his best to look sheepish even as he panted. "He has a huge sore - a sore - right next to the stitches, and he didn't say anything!"

"Astrid…"

"No!" she yelled back, more tears flowing. "You didn't trust me with this! At all! I'm so mad at you right now I could scream!" She moved away from his bed, ignoring the beseeching arm that rose to try to stop her. "I'm going to pack our things and then I'm going to help my mother." She ran upstairs without another word, wiping at her face.

"Give her time to cool off," Stoick said when Hiccup turned worried eyes to him.

"I know," he said regretfully. "But she can't leave; she needs to rest too. She looks so tired…"

"And with good reason, with all the worrying you've had her do," Stoick admonished. "What were you thinking? You've put yourself in …" he ran a hand down his face and turned to the Goethi. "How bad is it?"

She frowned as she examined him, shaking her head in disappointment and glaring at his son. Hiccup frowned at the both of them.

"Oh you can all yell and frown all you want! What was I supposed to do, stay in bed with the Thing going? I was going to take it easy for Snoggletog, rest up and let you see it ... I even promised you, remember?" This he yelled towards his old room.

"Excuses!" came the furious reply.

"Not true!" HIccup shouted back in indignation, ignoring whatever pain the healer was causing as she cleaned his reddened wound and glaring at the reed wall. "I was busy! The only way for this to heal is to stay off it, and I couldn't do that, with all the people here and the things to do! Berk had to appear strong, and even I!" He glared at his stump. "And I'm sure this stupid monster blister would have healed if I hadn't been forced to go out dancing on it!"

There was a sudden silence upstairs.

"Oooooh Madfoot!" Astrid suddenly intoned, leaking fury in her voice so fast that the air felt wet. "I'm going to kill him with my bare hands. I'm going to rip his belly open with my fingernails, twist his guts into knots and then stuff them down his throat so I can watch him suffocate on it! I'm going to ,,,"

A slew of ever more creatively bloody threats began descending from the room as the dragging and banging resumed while she packed.

"The first time she's giving birth," Stoick whispered to his son, "Take your dragon and go on a twenty-four hour flight. She's deadly."

"I know," Hiccup replied fondly, smiling up at the reeds, and Stoick knew that wasn't even the fever talking. "But how long is this going to take?" he went on, addressing the Goethi. "I have to help the others, and I need to have the foot back on for the battle. I don't think Toothless will fight, but I can be front line with a team of fighters."

The Goethi's glare increased, and she shook her head.

"What? I'm going out there, you can't stop me!" The old woman's eyes narrowed in challenge. Hiccup turned his eyes towards his father. "You tell her! I'm the heir of Berk! I have to be seen out there in the first battle we're having! It's my duty!"

"And it's my duty as your betrothed to take care of you!" Astrid replied, coming down the stairs with two full baskets. "We don't always get what we want, see?"

"Astrid…" Hiccup sighed, looking at her unhappily.

The Goethi rolled her eyes and tapped her staff against Astrid's hip gently. She scratched a few things into the fire;s soot.

"Get my mother and tell her to bring … the elk brew?" The Goethi nodded, and Astrid dropped the basket by the door and left.

"Dad," Hiccup started. Stoick sighed and sat down beside him.

"Son, you cannot risk it," he replied, and cut his off when he opened his mouth. "See what the Goethi tells you, take what she gives. Maybe you have enough to recover enough energy. We'll see." he got a glare from the healer, "But please don't ever hide this from us again."

"I wont, it was just … the Thing, and then the dragons leaving. It got out of hand. I wasn't even planning on hiding … just used to taking care of it all."

"I understand, but Astrid…."

"I know, I get it too. I'll talk to her. And I'll take your horrible medicine," he said to Goethi. She scoffed - as if he had any other option, poor boy.

"Dad, Berk needs me. I'm not letting people down now. It's the first battle; I'm your…" he swallowed, "I'm your son. It's my duty to be out there." He looked around the hut, seeming deep in thought as his eyes lingered on every single object. They were fever-bright, but his lucidity seemed to be fluctuating, and right now he seemed dead serious. "This is my home. I'm not just lying down and letting people take it from me."

The feeling in Stoick's chest had no real name, but it was large and beating. He suspected it may have been pride, love and more love all rolled into one. His poor old heart was going to be in trouble soon if it didn't let up. He walked a step forward and put a hand on his son's bare shoulder, the Goethi giving him disapproving looks.

"You understand, right?" Hiccup asked earnestly.

"Yes, son. I do." He turned to Goethi. "Patch him up as best you can. He can rest after the battle."

The Goethi looked like she was going to spear him with her staff. Hiccup looked at his father with a new light in his eyes - Stoick just hoped it was not related to his fever, but the determination he saw written there made the feeling of pride and aching understanding in his chest grow exponentially. Finally, he and his son saw eye-to-eye. Finally, they had something upon which level they met without the need for a long, awkward discussion, the obstacle of many words neither one of them knew how to articulate with the other.

The need to protect their home. For the first time in many years, Stoick felt a sense of unity with his son that was complete and almost heartbreaking. He squeezed his shoulder.

"I'm proud to call you my son," he said, uncaring that the Goethi was watching. Uncaring if the whole village did. No man had the right to be this proud of their heir, but the gods knew that Hiccup had worked hard for it. He deserved it. And it was all the more heartbreaking.

"I'll go tell Astrid what you told me, and try to get her to rest. You do what the Goethi tells you," he said, trying not to sound choked. He gave him a light pat on the shoulder - aah, darn it all, he'd almost gone sprawling - and moved out of the hut.

Stoick waited a few moments, staring out at the grey dawn, sun now hidden behind the cloud banks in the earliest hour of the morning. He wasn't disappointed as the Goethi tottered out a moment later, her staff rattling furiously as she looked this way and that to - Stoick guessed - see which way the chief had gone. As soon as she saw him waiting for her she paused, then gave him the shrewd sideways tilt of her head that he knew so well.

Stoick signalled her to close the door behind her, and once she did they moved slightly away from the chief's hall, crunching the ice under their feet.

"I know what you want to tell me, Mother Goethi … and it is unnecessary," Stoick said heavily. His chest was still so full of love and pride, of happiness at that final, complete connection with his son. And he was going to betray it. "The elk brew… it will put him to sleep, won't it?"

Goethi's eyes widened, then she nodded with a narrow gaze.

"Give it to him," he said, his tongue feeling leaden at the deception. His son, his poor son, about to be betrayed by his own father. But he could not be allowed out with that fever, fighting on that leg. He would die, or be worse wounded. It was not a decision he could make, not one he could allow Hiccup to make either. Goethi sighed, petting his leg consolingly, as if it made up for what Stoick was about to do.

Stoick felt sick to his stomach when the women returned, and Hiccup, still puffing from his fever, his stump exposed to the room except for a few bandages, gave them an apologetic smile. Goethi scratched a few symbols in the ashes, and Brunhilda began to decipher them quietly - and Astrid, smart girl that she was, watched like a hawk. That was probably how she had understood the Goethi's request before. All three women looked at one another, and then Astrid straightened her back and glared at the other two. Brunhilda nodded sadly, and the Goethi gave her a knowing look. With a jerk of her head, the healer made Brunhilda hand Astrid the bottle she'd brought, and the younger blonde woman stepped towards the bed.

"Don't be mad at me," Hiccup said right away as he sat up. He had sweat trickling down his brow, and Astrid brushed sodden hair off his face as Stoick offered the two remaining woman a seat and a mug of ale. They pretended to be occupied, but the hushed whispers were the only noises in the room above the fire.

"I'm not," Astrid replied. "Though you may be."

Hiccup frowned at her and she put the bottle down. Stoick pretended to look away when she kissed him, and Hiccup tried to move away from her several times to look at her face before he gave in to her advances. His eyes stayed closed for a moment longer when she moved away, her hands lingering on his cheek as her thumb wiped sweat off his eyes.

"That was for..?" he asked when he finally opened them, licking his lips. Astrid was almost as flushed as he was, probably highly aware of their eyes on her even as Hiccup seemed happily oblivious.

"That was me saying sorry," Astrid said with an amused, apologetic expression, reaching for the bottle she'd put down on one of the shelves near the bed. "Because this is going to taste terrible."

"Let me guess," Hiccup said, and that tone of laughter in the face of impending doom just went to Stoick's heart. Here they were, the people who his son trusted most in the world. "There's actual elk in that. No! No - pieces of elk. Some of the most outlandish, disgusting pieces!"

Astrid snorted despite herself, bottom lip held firmly in her teeth as his son managed to wrangle an amused, happy look from her even as they did the unthinkable. The look that the two young ones were giving each other was unmistakable, and Stoick exchanged a sad glance with Brunhilda.

"Something like that," she murmured back, and this time Stoick was sure that even Astrid forgot about the people in the room as she kissed him, his arms coming around her and leaving smudges of shining sweat wherever they touched.

"Wow, a freebee," Hiccup muttered when they separated, only audible because the room was dead silent, the fire low. "It must taste really bad."

"You have no idea," Astrid muttered. "Mum added ice to it - it's good for your fever and you won't taste it as much, but … it's the best we can do, and it's nowhere near enough."

"I won't ask you to kiss it better," Hiccup said, cringing at the smell as the bottle was uncorked. "I won't make you suffer with me." A quick gulp had him gagging and pulling all sorts of faces, coughing frantically. "Oh, oh gods; you weren't kidding. Oooh boy, you're never going to kiss me again, the taste is never going away…"

"You have to drink it all," Astird said in chagrin, and Hiccup gave her a look seeking pity, which she denied with a regretful head shake. With a deep breath, Hiccup downed the rest of bottle, putting it down with a grimace of disgust and actual nausea.

"Oh for all the gnomes that ruin ale, that tasted like piss,"1 he hissed through his teeth, eyes tight shut as he held his stomach. "Can I at least have some water?"

Stoick got up and brought him a cup from the drinking jug right away, which Hiccup downed with gratitude, but with another grimace on his face as soon as the liquid hit his stomach.

"I'm going to be sick," he muttered haplessly. Astrid was at his side right away, taking a seat on his bed as she pushed him down gently to lay flat, soothing hair out of his sweaty face and rubbing his arms up and down.

"You can't, Hiccup, you have to keep that down," she admonished gently, her touches seeming to help as he calmed, his breathing subsiding into something more steady and relaxed. Stoick realised that the medicine was taking effect.

"Stay?" Hiccup muttered airily. Astrid gave him a look and Stoick shrugged, so she smiled down at his son, though his eyes were closed.

"Of course," she replied, and he relaxed further at this. Within moments, he was sleeping deeply, and Astrid's breathing hitched into a sob, then she wrangled it into control.

They were taking away his son's right to battle. They were taking away his honour, his pride, and what every Viking had the sacred right to. They were the people who he trusted the most, and here they were…

Brunhilda hugged her daughter, who never left her seat on the bed, and excused herself to return to finishing her own chores and packing, the Goethi going with her. The hall collapsed back into silence, Hiccup's peaceful puffs of breath almost a condemnation. Astrid swallowed several times, wiping his arms and face down with ice-water, but in the end had to wipe her cheeks as a wayward tear escaped.

"You think he'll forgive us?" she whispered hoarsely, her hands still drifting through his son's hair.

"He forgave me for all the crap I pulled… I think if all goes well, we'll get lucky with him." he said, trying to sound consoling.

"He'll never trust me again," she said, and then took a deep breath, blinking her eyes rapidly and hiding her face. Stoick could not answer that; there was every possibility that he would be very badly hurt by what they had done here today. "Stoick," she went on, her voice steadier than before. "If I don't … if something goes wrong, tell him that I love him."

The man shifted, both so saddened and so uncomfortable.

"You will tell him yourself," he said, walking up and putting a hand on her shoulder. She shook her head.

"I can't, because it's not true," Astrid replied. Stoick looked down at her in confusion, because if he'd ever seen a woman love a man… "I'm not sure what it's supposed to feel like, and I was supposed to have time to learn with him, but …"

"Trust me, Astrid." Stoick replied, his heart going out to her as she sounded so lost and confused, almost like she was grieving already. But she had every right to; near sixteen score Berserkers were going to land on their shores soon, with their dragons all tired, some unable to fight due to their own young ones. And while the Hooligans outnumbered them, this was not a battle which could be fought without casualties. The hand of Urd was poised, shears in hand, waiting for just the right moment to snap the string as Verdandi tied the knot. "Trust me on this one. You won't be lying to him."

Her eyes, blue and wet, reminded him of Val's confusion when she'd first been so angry at herself for not understanding the turmoil in her chest, at the beginning of their marriage. Finally, Astrid nodded, looking back at Hiccup like he was the most precious thing in the world, and Stoick was sure. Val had looked at him like that; and then, she had looked at Hiccup like that too, though his poor boy probably didn't even remember it.

"Well, the same goes for you, lass," he replied gravely. Sixteen score Berserkers were no joke, and Stoick would be on the front line. "I've never told him that I love him, so he won't believe that. It's not the Viking way anyway. Just tell him I am so very proud of him, and that he'll make a wonderful chief. I know it."

"You can tell him that yourself, too," Astrid replied decidedly. Then she tensed. "If he forgives either one of us."

"He will, lass. He will." Stoick was reminded of this same conversation, a few weeks before the Thing, with Hiccup fearing the same lack of forgiveness from Astrid. He wasn't sure whether they had spoken yet, but he was sure that his son loved this woman. That wasn't something that went away easily, in the same way that Astrid's heart seemed pretty set to the chief.

If Urd preserved them, the hall could finally be a home again. Stoick just prayed she would, because he had waited for so long, to have tiny feet pattering around the floor again. And his son certainly …

He would forgive them. He would.

"I'll announce it in the hall. I'm telling the others he has a high fever, and he's been incapacitated with it. We can't let it out that we've done this."

Astrid merely nodded, and bent down to kiss him, no shame on her face as she didn't even try to hide her emotion.

"I'll get him on a gurney. I'll strap it to Toothless, and he'll take care of him. I think Toothless will want to sit this one out and be with the eggs… probably Stormfly too." She looked panicked for a second before she forced herself calm again. "We'll pull through this. I just pray it was strong enough that he'll sleep through it." She paled. "And that we win. I will never, ever forgive myself if we lose, and they find him and take him in his sleep … it will be my fault…"

"It won't happen, Astrid," Stoick replied sternly, although he was housing the same fears. "Berk is stronger than that."

Astrid nodded. Then she reached behind her, unholstering Brisinga and cutting a finger on it to smear blood on the blade. Sucking her thumb, she held the axe between them.

"I swear that I will protect Berk, and him, till my last breath."

"Aye," he replied, putting his fist around hers on the axe handle. They held for a moment, and then Astrid stood, all-business as she put her axe in place and headed for the door.

"Not so fast," Stoick replied. She stopped and turned. "We have … a little over a half hour. Both of us need the rest." He pointed to Hiccup's bed. "The wakers will let us know when it's time."

"But I have to make a gurney…" she replied, torn.

"No," he answered firmly. "He will sleep better with you there anyway."

There was colour on her cheeks, but Astrid relented almost right away. Stoick gave her a nudge in, and then drew the curtains, retreating to his chair again, sitting down with what felt like twice the exhaustion of before.

His eyes quickly closed, despite the thoughts and the worries. The rustle of clothes and sheets, and the muted sounds of breathing were a good lullaby to have, after such a long time with a quiet hall. He would not worry about his son's anger, nor about the battle, not right now. He would just pray to Forseti. Because if there was any justice, these two would not be separated now.

=0=

Ætta knew that it was childish to suck her finger, and that only little babies did it. But all the adults were being so busy, and so gruff. Dartfoot was holding her hand, and she was sucking her thumb too. Dartbolt and Gustav were with them, their dragons standing close enough so that Ætta almost couldn't see anything.

And everyone was being so … strange. No one would tell them anything everyone they spoke to just told them to stay put. All the adults were looking so very worried, too, and Ætta was not stupid: Something Very Bad was happening.

Tears came to her eyes as she looked around, feeling more scared as the adults whizzed about and yelled at each other. Aunty Astrid had told her that they would be making their way to the pretty beach where they would be safe, but she hadn't said from what, and somehow a big black monster, with sharp teeth and an ugly laugh was all she could think about. She felt so scared and confused, and Hiss was coiled around her shoulder, but he seemed to be scared too.

Ætta looked at Dartfoot, who squeezed her hand and moved closer to her too.

"Big sister?" she whispered. "Why is everyone in a hurry?"

"Because we're all going to have a nice night on the beach. But it's a secret, and there are going to be people coming we don't want to share it with. So we're hurrying before they come."

Dartfoot nodded. She seemed much calmer, but Ætta couldn't share her confidence. Bad Things had already happened, with her mama … and now everyone had those same looks on their faces, as nana did when she had last been with her mama.

Something REALLY Bad was happening. And if these people they didn't want to meet were coming to Berk and they didn't want them, there was going to be a Battle. And Bad Things happened in Battle too.

People started shouting directions, and a number of groups began to mill around, some picking up barrels, some picking up weapons and buckets of arrows. Ætta's eyes widened as she realised she had been right. There was going to be a Battle. She sneaked a look at Dartbolt and Gustav, and both of them were looking so very worried. Nuthead had even been with them earlier, and there just had been this look on his face.

More tears gathered in her eyes as she started feeling more and more afraid. Dartfoot spotted Mother Droploug, and then they started walking, all of them holding onto each other's hand or the Nadder's wing. There were another three children with them who Ætta didn't know, and she was too upset to talk to them.

The walk was a long one, and the light was getting less and less. Ætta tried to hide her face in her dolls once, when one of the other children made fun of her for crying, but it had only led to stumbling. So she'd punched him in the face, and hoped that Uncle Hiccup wouldn't be so angry with her. Everyone just told him to stop whining like a baby anyway, so at least Ætta wasn't the only one behaving like a baby.

They had been on the beach for a little bit when Ætta saw her Aunty Astrid coming in with Toothless. She leapt to her feet, feeling so very happy as her heart beat very fast, and then she hugged Aunty Astrid's feet.

"You're going to stay here!" she said. "You're not going to Battle!"

Aunty Astrid came down and hugged her.

"No honeyoats, I have to go," she replied, and then Ætta did cry, because she was feeling so scared and alone. None of her other Aunties had time for her, not when they all had little babies, and Aunty Astrid and Uncle Hiccup were the only two who loved her. Hiss jumped between their shoulders, liking her face to see what her tears tasted like. "Shhh, don't be upset, sweetheart. Uncle Hiccup is staying. You can help care for him."

"Uncle Hiccup," Ætta replied, wiping her eyes to see better and looking around, sniffing.

"Here," Aunty stood, taking her hand and moving her back. Toothless, who was also looking at her and warbling, had something strange coming after him, like a wooden cart without wheels. Uncle Hiccup was lying down on it and he looked asleep.

"He is very tired?" she asked, wondering if he'd gotten so tired when he had gone to look for Hiss and the other dragons. Poor Uncle Hiccup, maybe he'd had to chase them all, one by one, and so it must have been so difficult to get them all back.

"No, little one. He's just a little sick, that's all," Aunty started. Ætta immediately felt terrible, her chest hurting and her heart beating, and she looked up at her Aunty, tears coming back.

"No! He can't be sick! Not Uncle too!"

"What is it?" Astrid replied, hugging her. "Ætta, why are you so upset? He'll be better after he sleeps…"

"That's what the said about mama!" she cried, and all her sadness came again. "But nana now says that mama is asleep for good, and she won't wake up again!" Uncle Hiccup couldn't fall asleep and not wake up too. He just couldn't. Her papa had gone to sleep in the sea, and her mama had gone to sleep because she was ill, and now Uncle Hiccup just had to stay. "Please Aunty Astrid, wake him up. He can't go 'way too."

"Oh darling, I'm so…" Aunty kissed her head, and then she picked her up and lay her down next to Uncle Hiccup. "Put your head on his chest, sweety. You hear that?" Ætta nodded as he heard the comforting noise - nana called it your heart and it was what you loved people with - "As long as you hear that, he'll wake up, darling."

Aunty got a blanket, covering both Uncle and her, tucking it around them and putting a hand on Ætta's hair like her mama used to do.

"Can you take care of Uncle Hiccup for me?" she asked. Ætta nodded, and Aunty smiled at her. The noise of Uncle's heart in her ear was nice - and then she realised she was very tired too, because she had cried a lot when nana had told her that her mama wouldn't wake up, and then they'd walked a lot and worried a lot. Hiss was keeping them both warm, and Uncle Hiccup moved a little bit - Ætta felt even better that he moved. It meant he wasn't going to sleep so, so deeply this time like her mama.

"Good. And if you get scared, tell someone, alright?" Aunty said. "But remember," she held up her little finger, still bandaged. "He made us a promise, no?"

"Yes," Ætta replied, feeling even better as she reached up, her little finger extended too. "And Uncle Hiccup keeps his promises."

He'd promised many things, and they'd all, all, always happened. He'd even brought the dragons back. Uncle Hiccup would not go away. Ætta knew it.

"I leave him to you now, darling," Aunty said. A man came up from behind her, and Aunty stood to talk to him. They spoke on people being in place - what place? - and the lower defences being covered - with cloth? - but Ætta's eyes were closing, because she was warm and safe, and Uncle Hiccup moved again and put an arm around her, so she felt so nice. And his heart didn't stop, even if Ætta had lost count of the thumps it made.

The fire and the worried people and the beach faded away. Uncle Hiccup was here and not going; that was the most important thing.

=0=

1 A number of North Canadian tribes used to collect reindeer urine and drink it, because it had hallucinogenic properties tied to a particular mushroom it ate that was poisonous to humans, but harmless once it had passed through the digestive system of the reindeer. This allowed them to experience the hallucinogenic without the death usually involved in the deal.

Goethi, here, is giving Hiccup a similar brew to help him sleep. The side effects, usually, are very strange and vivid dreams.

=0=

Yes, I've fed Hiccup piss. I was not joking when I said I was an evil overlord.

Also, I would like to point out that while I consider the devotion Hiccup has for Astrid to be beautiful, what he actually did, while not terribly bad, I consider rather strange and creepy. I hope I brought it out properly. This is still my favourite chapter, somehow.

We are almost at the end, people. Hold on tight.