(1 year later)
It had been a year since Hiccup's kidnapping, and Astrid still hadn't forgiven herself. For the first few weeks she'd been constantly distracted with guilt, 'what if she'd run along a bit faster? What if she'd noticed his disappearance slightly earlier?' She wasn't the only one that had had these thoughts, as was evident with Stoick's behaviour.
He refused to speak with her, on any regard, for at least a month or two and didn't even try and hide his aversion to Astrid from her or the rest of the village. Even through the dragon attacks, he never acknowledged her once.
Gobber had told her, "He lost his wife to the dragons years back, an' now he's lost his Hiccup too. Tis understandable he's a wee bit upset".
Astrid was also upset, but not solely because of her failure to her chief, but also her failure to the cute scrawny little boy she secretly had a crush on. Of course she'd never admit it to anyone, but she did. She had privately enjoyed catching him staring at her, drawing her or watching him blush and stammer when he tried to talk to her. She had found it rather endearing when the usually very articulate Hiccup struggled to form a coherent sentence when she was nearby.
'Oh poor, sweet Hiccup', she thought, 'Could I have saved you?'
It was a week since the anniversary of Hiccup's disappearance and there hadn't been a dragon attack in twice that. Compared to the usual thrice a week, it was a pleasant reprieve for the Berkians.
Some had even started to hope that that was the end of them. However Stoick never let his guard down and was constantly on alert, ready for the next attack. He hadn't got a proper night's sleep since Hiccup's kidnapping, and what sleep he got was in short, fitful periods in which he was plagued by nightmares.
Hiccup's birthday was approaching, and there still hadn't been any dragon sightings. Hiccup had been presumed dead and given a funeral almost two months after he was taken, yet Stoick had still held out hope he was alive. He had initially refused to participate, but decided he wouldn't want to dishonour his Hiccup so gave in.
Astrid had been the one to set the empty coffin ready and place it in the boat, with a shroud - adorned with the chief's emblem - upon it. Then later she had lit the brazier from which Stoick ignited his arrow, and watched as he had fired it into the boat as it sailed blazing into the night.
Astrid had to steel herself from crying at the final goodbye to the small, adorable runt of a boy. Yet tears still pooled in her eyes, which only Fishlegs noticed. He had asked sniffling, "A-Astrid, are you crying?"
To which she had indignantly replied, "No! If course not. I just got some smoke in my eyes."
To which he smiled briefly then resumed sniffing into his handkerchief.
Gobber had said sadly, "Twas just like his mother's funeral it was, not even a piece o' them to have put in their coffins."
And Berk's peace and quiet came to an abrupt end on Hiccup's would be Birthday.
"DRAGONS INCOMING!" Came a booming cry that echoed across the village.
"Of course it be today thou unholy beasts decideth to descend uponeth us, to desecrate the nameth of our stolen comrade!" Tuffnut exclaimed, getting a few confused looks from surrounding villagers exiting the great hall.
"I wonder what you *could* achieve", Fishlegs shook his head in disbelief.
"Yeah! You could write a book!" Ruffnut chimed in.
To which Tuff replied "Nah, being stupid is a lot less effort", proceeding to smash his helmeted head into his sisters', sending them both reeling.
"Uh", Astrid put her hands over her face in exasperation, "Come on! Lets get you to the smithy already!"
Berks smithy, during dragon attacks, doubled as an armoury. Gobber would hand out as many weapons as he had around to the clamouring throng of people, all eager to face the flying reptiles with some good old fashioned Viking steel and muscle.
They then run down from the great hall with the twins in the lead, and they reach the edge of the village just as the first dragons do. Tuffnut goes running after a Gronckle, which hits him with it's club-like tail. This sends him flying through the wall of a nearby house, and he cries out "OH, I'm hurt, I am VERY much hurt!"
Ruffnut followed suit, charging the Gronckle yelling "Only I can hurt my brother and get away with it!"
Astrid nears the end of the steps down from the great hall herself with Stoick not far behind, but then a whistling shriek pierces the air.
Shouts of "NIGHT FURY! Get down!" Erupt from over the whole village.
Then it's plasma blast is shot vertically, illuminating the evening sky like a flare. Followed by a low, threatening ululation. Seemingly reluctantly, the dragons fly up and away, disappearing over the horizon.
All the villagers stare in bewilderment, "Why had they stopped?" And then the night fury gracefully lands at the bottom of the steps up to the great hall. Less than five meters away, Stoick stands shocked, with Gobber and Astrid equally frozen beside him.
They had many questions, two of which being "Why isn't it attacking?" and then "What is that on it's back?" Both of these were swiftly answered when a fairly muscular, yet lanky man clad nearly entirely in black leather climbs off the back of the midnight black dragon. His helmeted face looks up at the burly chief and says "Sorry about that, it's hard to control the dragons' appetite for destruction sometimes". Green eyes glint mysteriously behind the mask, with them being the only sliver of his face visible.
Stoick takes a step forward and the night fury growls ominously, leading to everyone taking a few steps back in fear.
"Who are you, dragon tamer? And why are you threatening my village with that beastie o' yours?" Stoick demands.
"I am once again reminded on why you are the Chief of Berk" the mysterious man chuckles, "The epitome of Viking brawn and bravery, yet also foolhardiness".
At this jest Stoick raised his axe, though the darkly-clad man simply laughs "Sorry, sorry. I can imagine you are all very confused and on edge right now" and raises his hands in a submissive manner.
"How about we go inside and discuss matters further?" He inquires, to which Gobber whispers in Stoick's ear, quickly followed by the chief's verbal assent and lowering of axe.
The whole village watches in awe as the strange man follows their chief into his hut, whistling for the dragon to stand guard outside the door.
As soon as the door closes, it is almost as if a spell was broken. Everyone emerges from the hush that had befallen the entire crowd, and everyone desperately wanted to know about what in Helheim just happened.
An hour passes, with nearly the entire village waiting to see their newfound saviour. But then it starts to rain. This puts a dampener on everyone's excitement, not to mention the literal dampening everyone got.
After another half an hour, some decided that standing in the rain wasn't worth it, and trudged back to their homes.
Slowly but surely, more and more Vikings gave up and left, leaving but a few of Berk's most stubborn. One of these was Astrid. After seeing the mysterious figure, she was intrigued. 'Who was he? Where did he hail from? And how is he riding a *dragon*! And a *Night Fury* no less!'
He wasn't the stereotypical barrel-chested, tree trunks for legs, Viking; but he was more lithely muscular - similar in fact to his own dragon's build. 'And his captivating dark-emerald green eyes... No!' Astrid chided herself, 'Stop letting your mind wander! We don't even know if he is friend or foe yet. But the way his amazing eyes glint brilliantly when they catch the rays of the dying sun... Very similar to how Hiccup's had done... Uhg', Astrid sighed inwardly, now she had brought up some of her guilt.
She had re-run through the trapdoor and down the tunnel countless times after the incident, and had come to a conclusion. Yes, she probably would have made it to him right before the dragon took off. But then the questions of, 'would she have been able to beat the dragon? And what was the dragon?' arose. She hadn't managed to figure out what dragon it was that took him; due to her being focused on her failure at protecting him. All she could really remember was that it was a fairly medium sized dragon, smaller than a Monstrous Nightmare but larger than a Gronckle. She had contemplated a Deadly Nadder, but now, looking at the mysterious man's dragon, it very well could have been the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself that had snatched her Hiccup away.
She got awakened from her thoughts by Ruff and Tuff arguing,
"No! I want to meet him first!" Tuff shouted, hitting his sister with a shield from his place on the floor.
Ruffnut growled, "Count yourself lucky that Gothi insisted no one hurt you until you have recovered. But No! I want to!"
"Oh stop arguing", Astrid grumbled.
"But he's sooo dreamy", Ruff mumbled, her eyes glazing over.
"Ew Ew Ew", Tuff exclaimed, scooting backwards. "What do you think Astrid?" Tuff asked, "Do you agree with my crazed sis?"
"No! Definitely not!" Astrid said, though her thoughts answered adversely with, 'Well... He *is* kinda hot'.
"See!" Astrid heard Tuff exclaim before she walked away slightly to contemplate her traitorous thoughts. Staying within sight of the chief's hut, Astrid sat down by a fire pit. Though the heat helped combat the cold seeping in from her clothes, it did nothing to stop the cold enveloping her from inside.
She knew wallowing in her grief wouldn't achieve anything, after all she had done that for pretty much the first few months after Hiccup's kidnapping. So instead she focused on another of her emotions. Her anger.
And directed it all towards that smug sounding, mysterious man that dared to faintly resemble her Hiccup, and show up on what would have been Hiccup's birthday at that!
'Let alone be that god damn handsome', added her thoughts unhelpfully.
At that moment, he stepped out of the chief's hut, blissfully unaware of the torrent of angry Hofferson about to be headed his way.