The next day, Thuggory stepped into his office to find a bag with an envelope beside it, waiting for him on top of his desk.

Frowning, he peered into the bag, then tore open the envelope to scan the handwritten note within.

Then he reread the note more thoroughly, before taking it and the bag with him, the contents of the bag clinking together as he turned and left the office.

The note directed him to the tallest hill on Berk.

Thuggory drove up said hill and got out, the note wafting in the breeze as he approached a waiting Hiccup, stopping a metre or so away. "Hiccup, what the fuck is this? Are you messing with me?"

"No. It's a warning."

Thuggory paused and stared at him. "A warning."

"Yes. A warning not to let Snotlout into my office again. Not to start acting like him. Nobody deserves that. Certainly not you. Don't help him to be his old self."

"You tell me that you are British special forces just to give me a warning?"

"Would you listen to my warning otherwise? I don't possess my father's authority. Or his size. So I have to use what I do have."

I'm still not sure I believe you. No offence, but you don't look…"

"Much taken. When the British embassy for Iran was taken, did you see any buff giants in the SAS team in that footage?"

"I take your point, but you never did fight back against Snotlout."

"Do you want me to prove it to you? Yes, assault a military police officer. I'm sure that would work well for me."

"I wouldn't…" Thuggory trailed off at Hiccup's flat stare. "Alright, I would. Can you blame me for it?"

"The fact that you would is the reason I'm giving you a warning in the first place. Someone needs to keep us in check. But if you stop doing that and become another Snotlout…"

"Oh."

"Yes. Exactly. Don't forget that, Thuggory. I know you and Snotlout are friends, but don't become a thug."

Thuggory snorted, shaking his head. "Making a pun using my name. I feel offended."

"Blame your parents for poor name choices. That's how I imagine Snotlout gets by. At least I get by blaming him for the nickname."

"Hmm. So we've established why you can't fight me to prove you're SAS. Um, what's the slogan for that…?"

"Who dares wins. But that doesn't necessarily mean I'm SAS either. I could easily have memorised it."

"True… what about when you completed training there? Do you have a picture from that time?"

Hiccup pulled out his phone. "Yes. Now bring those beers over here. One is for me and one is for you."

"Why did you put them in a bag in my office? You could have kept the bag with you."

"Semantics. Now take a look here." Hiccup handed his phone over and Thuggory glimpsed an image of a younger-looking Hiccup, with someone else having thrown their arm over his shoulder, standing facing the camera on a grassy hill just like he and Thuggory were doing right now.

"Who is that?"

"An old friend. Most likely a former friend at that. He once came to visit me here. You understand I can't tell you his name. I'm bending the rules as it is. You better hope you can keep a secret because this is quite possibly the most important one in your life."

"Then why show it to me?"

"You asked if I was SAS. Spill that secret and you will find out, one way or another."

"What. The. Fuck."

Hiccup ignored him for a moment as he stood up, then spoke. "Enjoy the beers. I think you deserve them both."

He brushed past Thuggory, who stood with his mouth agape.

"Oh, and to reiterate: don't become Snotlout."

Thuggory closed his mouth upon hearing this, the spell broken, turning to face Hiccup. "You're a monster."

Hiccup looked at him and simply shrugged. "Maybe I am. But I don't think you're in a position to judge, considering who your school-time friend was, and who remains to be, it seems. So I suggest you heed my warning. Both of them. Adios."

…

There was a knock on the door.

A bang really, hinting at who was on the other side.

"Practising breaking down the door, Dad?"

Stoick awkwardly coughed. "Can we move past that mistake?"

"Yeah. So what brings you here?"

"Tomorrow night, at the Great Hall, there will be a gala. You're invited and I'd very much like you both to attend. I want to reconnect with my son and get to know his fiance."

"How did you- we, we didn't tell you…"

"I can see the ring on her finger, Hiccup. I notice things."

Hiccup mumbled something in response, but Stoick caught the tail end of it. "-Cami."

"Point well made, son, I didn't pay close enough attention to that, but I'm willing to do so from now on. Plus, I thought we had worked that over."

Hiccup had turned very red. "Ah, ha, ha, yeah… You heard that, did you?"

"Yes."

"Sorry, it slipped out," he mumbled, finding the floor suddenly very interesting and shuffled his shoulders, seemingly all too aware of the pointed stare Astrid was directing at him from the side.

Stoick stared at her. "No apology needed. In your position, I would certainly hold some resentment over what happened between us."

Astrid stared back. Her lips parted but whatever words she intended didn't come out and eventually she simply nodded, accepting what he said.

Pleased, he nodded in response.

"What's going on between you too?"

Both looked at Hiccup, who glanced at them in turn, blinking in confusion.

Astrid shrugged at Hiccup before she looked at Stoick. "Nothing. What time is the gala, tomorrow night?"

"Eight PM. Don't be late."

"We won't be," Hiccup promised.

…

"Why did I agree to go to the Gala? I don't know how to dance!"

"You… don't?" Hiccup checked, cocking his head to one side and observing her curiously.

Astrid's pacing back and forth across the room stopped and she ground to a halt to shake her head at him. "I spent most of my time since Highschool studying for my job, Hiccup," she resumed pacing the room. "With what little free time I had left over, learning to dance was the last thing on my mind. Do you even know how to dance?"

"Yes. Luckily for both of us, my mother taught me how when I was fifteen. I've practiced a bit since then, but not enough to say I'm not rusty. So we can start with a waltz."

"Right now?"

"No. First I'm going to get masking tape; you'll see why shortly. And you'll need a dress… if you can even get one on such short notice."

"I can get that taken care of. What are you going to wear?"

"My army dress uniform. It's what I usually wear at formal events."

"Don't you think that's a little boring?"

Hiccup pointed a finger her way. "Hey, don't you knock it before you've even seen it."

Astrid put her hands up but was only playing along. "Fine, go with your fancy uniform. It's your funeral."

"I have no regrets for the future. Anyway, I'll be right back with tape."

So Astrid was left waiting for Hiccup to return, and when he did, he proceeded to tape out a square on the floor.

Straightening up, he caught sight of Astrid's quizzical expression. "This is a guide for learning the waltz. It was a great help when I was learning. Even so, usually I wouldn't use it as a waltz is quite simple but we have little more than a day considering work and everything."

Astrid nodded but said nothing more.

Hiccup beckoned her closer, gripping her right hand with his left and placing his right on the small of her back. "This dance has three main parts. Three steps."

"Okay," she was close enough to count his freckles and see the very faint line of stubble on his chin and the underside of his jaw. Also, his lips were inviting in that small smile of his that he was sporting right now.

His lips moved, but she almost missed what he said.

"Shall we start?"

…

One.

Step forward

Two.

Step to the right, shift weight from left leg to right leg, step down.

Three.

Step left and return to the starting position to complete the square.

Repeat, using tape square as a guide.

The words were an internal mantra, repeated by Astrid over and over again, even though by this point; thirty minutes into this lesson, she didn't need the help and had more than likely memorised the words.

Nevertheless, she kept at it.

"Alright, I think you've definitely got the hang of that. Now let's practice turning."

She blinked owlishly at him. "Turning? You think I'm ready for that? I mean, the waltz doesn't seem difficult, but…"

He nodded with an encouraging smile. "Don't worry, we'll take it slow… just as soon as I change into my dress uniform."

"Uh, why?"

"I want to know if you like it or if I should get something else to wear for tomorrow."

"…Alright then."

…

Truth be told, Astrid didn't expect much of his army dress uniform.

She suspected it would look good but be nothing spectacular.

But when he returned, wearing a form-fitting khaki suit that brought out his eyes and was spotless, she was unprepared.

Before she knew it, her lips had parted in surprise and she stood there, speechless. But only for a moment and he too was staring at her before he spoke. "Wow, I didn't think this suit would be that impressive to you."

She blinked out of her stupor and swallowed, clamping her legs together and finding her mouth had gone dry all of a sudden. She blinked, seeing him in a new light all of a sudden.

Damn, he looks hot.

"I would like to take back everything I said about that uniform and emphasise the fact that that's a nice suit."

"Thanks."

He was smiling as he stepped close to her, and offered her his left hand. "Milady, may I have this dance?"

She grabbed his hand at once, drawing him closer still and wrapping her arms around his neck. Nothing in the world could have made her refuse him at that moment.

She only cared about him. And the same sentiment was reflected in his eyes.

She pecked him on the lips, then broke apart with a smirk and grabbed his hand again, placing it on the small of her back, with his other hand soon joining it.

"Don't bother asking, babe. Show me what other moves you got instead."

"We could dance some more, or," He lifted her up and moved her legs to wrap around his hips. "We could go to bed and we could have a night to remember. I saw your expression when I came in here with this uniform on."

"Someone's full of-"

"Don't deny it, milady," his lips brushed her ear and she bit back a groan. "You were practically drooling."

"But what about the dance tomorrow? I only know one dance," she asked, her half-hearted pretence for not wanting him gone.

"Well Astrid, I don't know about you, but my eyes will be on one person only. I definitely won't care what anyone else thinks of us."

"Then it's settled. After you, babe."

"Certainly, milady."

…

Sex and a shower (and sex in the shower) later, Hiccup left to prepare dinner for both of them.

This left Astrid in his room, picking clothes out of the chest of drawers that they shared and drying her hair.

Alright, shirt, jeans, bra, socks, underwear, dress…

No dresses…

I've got no dress for the Gala!

Panic mounting, she dove for her phone and dialled a number, then practically stabbed the green call icon with a finger.

Pick up

Pick up

Finally!

"Ingrid! Sis, I've got a gala to go to, tomorrow and I need a dress, asap! I need your help!"

"Calm down. I've already got a dress picked out for you."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Astrid, you still there?"

"…And how long have you had this dress ready for me?"

"A week. Don't make this weird, Astrid."

"Too late for that. Is it good?"

"Definitely. Good enough to turn heads, I'd say."

"I want to see it. I'll be down in ten."

"Alright, see you soon, little sis."

"Of course you had to bring that up. Anyways, see you soon."