Chapter 1: Nowhere to Be Found by Frances Luke Accord

And it's a long time to lie

A child beneath an endless sky

Who can only reach so high

And I love to wonder why

I feel I'm left with only my disguise

"Martha says you were late." Ingrid's reproach entered the room before she did, fingers tapping on her smartphone. She squandered a fleeting glare in Astrid's direction before resting her tall, waifish body in the vanity of the dressing room.

She sighed and typed a final message before turning to look at her daughter. "What were you doing?"

Astrid was still returning Ingrid's glare in full through the mirror. She ignored the makeup artist working on erasing everything on her face that was untamed.

"Why don't you ask Martha?" she said, her hands gripping the arms of the tall chair she was perched on.

Ingrid threw her a scowl and opened her mouth to speak before her phone pinged, the screen lighting like a luring beacon.

Her jaw snapped shut and she raised a finger 'wait' she seemed to signal before she tapped the green symbol on the screen and stepped out again.

Astrid's frown remained as she dug out her phone and opened her messaging app, opening the latest string and noticing Heather had answered her message.

"Relax your face," the makeup artist pleaded with her.

Astrid's muscles slackened. She allowed the woman to tilt her head to the side.

She moved her arms along so she could read the message:

(9:30 am) Heathen: Rehearsal's going well! How's the shoot going?

Astrid typed back a quick 'in makeup'. She knew Heather would understand the brief response.

The makeup artist stopped her ministrations and walked off, muttering about something.

The girl was left alone in the dressing room. She glanced at the door through the mirror, waiting for somebody (either her mother or the makeup artist) to return, but when nobody did, she slouched and began to type furiously:

(9:53 am) You: I haven't seen her yet. What time does the show start again?

Astrid shut down her screen, her fingertips tapping against the white phone, her eyes guarding the door. A ping distracted her from her duty. It was Heather again.

(9:54 am) Heathen: 7:30! And don't worry, she's going to love you. Valerie's the best photographer I've worked with."

(9:54 am) You: I know. Thanks, Heath. I'm sorry I can't be there for the opening. I'll see you tomorrow?

Heather hadn't had to reassure her. Astrid had seen Valerie's pictures: men and women, all made up into something magnificent and otherworldly through the lens of her camera. Fashion magazines left and right used her pictures, and billboards all over New York were decked in her work.

When she'd heard from Ingrid that Valerie wanted to photograph her, she had smiled at her mother across the kitchen counter for the first time in months. She couldn't wait to be made into something more than beautiful.

Ingrid returned, her heels click-clacking on the concrete floor. Her phone was finally put away, her hand curling against it for comfort, like the comfort a weapon could provide.

Astrid straightened on her seat. She turned her own phone over so the screen was facing her lap. She waited.

Her mother crossed her arms. "So? Why on earth were you late?"

Astrid's carefully manicured fingers tightened around her phone. "I had to go pick up my certificate."

Ingrid sighed. "Really? Couldn't it be done any other day?"

Astrid's jaw tensed with fury. "The school was going to be closed for the summer after today."

Her mother sighed, "Baby girl, this is more important."

She crossed her arms, glaring at something in the mirror. Herself or her mother; she wasn't entirely sure. "My grades aren't terrible, and I aced the SAT's. If we hurry, I can still send in late applications-" Her reproach was interrupted.

"Astrid." Ingrid's tone was final.

The girl's jaw snapped closed.

Ingrid's smile spread with the rhythm of condescendence. "Baby, we have everything we need. Mommy's working hard to get you to the top. You only need to let me help you."

Astrid scowled. Ingrid scowled.

'Great.' thought Astrid, the sarcasm dripping like dark ink.

Ingrid seemed to take her silence for obedience. She reached and tapped Astrid's hands before walking behind her, hands sliding onto the girl's shoulders. "Now. Look at the mirror."

Astrid's gaze on the mirror moved from her mother to herself. Her skin glowed, fake freckles drawn in places more convenient than her real ones, soft fawn eyeshadow darkening her lids only slightly, gold eyeliner shimmering in the lighting. Her lips were carefully painted a natural pink shade. Her hair, a mop of blond strands she normally kept braided was in a low ponytail, the frailness of the hairstyle engineered in thoughtful curls.

She was looking at the face of a stranger.

Her scowl deepened.

Ingrid seemed to think differently. Her eyes were shining with pride. "Baby girl, you look beautiful."

The stylist, a short, balding man entered the room, holding a garment bag with reverence before he hung it and unzipped the dress she'd be wearing.

Soft, sheer white fabric almost burst from the bag. Astrid would be wearing a bridal gown.

The stylist and Ingrid helped her into the dress and shoes, and Astrid felt handled and preened, like a pet cat.

At last, she was led out of the dressing room onto the set, a manufactured forest of vines and lavender colored wisteria designed to frame her.

Ingrid pulled her along to a pair of women chatting amiably. One of them, Astrid knew. Red, big curly hair. The director of the shoot. As soon as they had arrived Ingrid had made sure Astrid could recognize the important players in the game, at least from sight. The brown-haired woman, though, was a mystery.

Her mother stopped and Astrid felt herself follow her lead.

Curly hair turned when she sensed them nearby. "Ingrid!" She welcomed.

"Ray!" answered Ingrid.

The women embraced, and Ray turned to the brown-haired woman. "Valerie, this here is Ingrid Hofferson."

The brown-haired woman- no. Valerie's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Oh, we've met." There was a familiar lilt to her accent and a fond and graceful smile on her face.

Ingrid reached to grasp her shoulder, her squeeze affectionate. "It's great, seeing ye again. You've met Astrid?" she turned to her daughter.

Astrid straightened when the three women turned to face her. "Hello, thank you for having me." Her smile was strained.

Ray nodded, but Valerie gasped. "Oh, Ingrid! She looks so much like- "

"Yes." Interrupted Ingrid.

Astrid didn't have to guess to know what the woman had been trying to say. She looked so much like Arvid, her father.

After a brief, tense silence Valerie smiled, displaying that unnatural grace again. "Well, miss Hofferson, why don't you show us what you've got?"

Stoick's thundering steps as he walked towards the kitchen startled Hiccup. He sighed, glancing at the toast with regret as he picked it up from the floor.

"Hiccup," Stoick was already sitting on the kitchen counter, the pitiful wooden stool groaning under the gigantic man's weight.

"Dad," greeted Hiccup, powerless to watch as his father stole the remaining piece of toast from his plate and started to smear strawberry jam on it.

Stoick took a bite, and munched on it for a second before speaking, "Ready for today, then?"

"Yeah." Hiccup turned to the toaster and put two more slices of bread in it, the knob on the side sticking down with a 'clink'.

Stoick hummed, his gaze traveling outside the small kitchen window, at the grey clouds gathering far away in the sky.

The toaster pinged his thoughts back to the room, and he stared at his son as the young man pulled out the slices from the machine. "Leg isn't giving you trouble? 'Was a bit cold earlier."

"No. Not at all." Hiccup placed the toasts on the plate Stoick had commandeered and went back to finally make his own breakfast.

He turned, his back facing the toaster and his front facing his father. His lenient smile growing more and more smug by the millisecond. "I mean, asides from it, you know, -" he gestured to the prosthetic he'd had since he was 8 years old. "-being missing, it's been decent." He bit his toast and chewed quickly.

Stoick frowned. "You know I still can't find those funny."

The pride at his own clever joke vanished faster than a spooked horse from Hiccup's forest green eyes. "W-well, you know…" He trailed off, clearing his throat.

They both stayed silent for a weird, undesirable moment.

Hiccup felt a bit of the toast go the wrong way, and he started coughing at the same time Stoick started speaking.

"You're against that American lad today, are you?"

"What?" His raspy voice was overtaken by more coughing.

"The American lad. That-"

"Eret," He coughed. "Eret Anderson."

"You should squeeze in a bit of practice if you can, warm up for the show."

"Well, not- not really- not a show, really, more like a -." Hiccup cleared his throat again.

"Race?" Stoick frowned, "You're racing again? Hiccup" warned Stoick.

"Dad." Hiccup, feeling like he'd been warned enough, decided to warn back. "It'll be fine. You know me."

They stared intently at each other with frowns, and their arms crossed, the toast forgotten in their plates. He'd have thought it humorous if Hiccup hadn't been so frustrated.

Finally, Stoick ceded first. He reached for the last of the toast in his plate before he sighed. "You'll be careful, aye?" his voice was low and guarded. His frown had become softer.

Hiccup gave him a look equally as fond as it was exasperated before relenting. "aye, dad."

They finished the last of the toast in companionable silence.

Stoick watched Hiccup carefully clear the kitchen counter for a moment before bringing it up. "Son… have..." he harrumphed, "have you heard from your mother?"

"Mum? Um... Yeah, um. She's… she's great."

"I'm-I'm glad."

For a minute, the only sounds were the clinking of the dishes Hiccup was washing before Stoick interrupted it again, "Did you ask 'er?"

Hiccup sighed, drying his hands with his jeans, "yeah."

"And...?"

"She um…" He walked back to the kitchen counter. "She misses us, but she can't come back right now. Too busy with work. Fall-Winter season."

"She's busy all the seasons," grumbled Stoick, mostly to himself. "I'll call her myself later."

Hiccup didn't know what to say to this, so he drummed his fingertips against the marble surface, his closed lips grimacing.

Stoick sighed, standing. "Anyway, don't worry son, you've got this."

Hiccup's fingers stilled, splaying over the counter. "Right. Thanks, dad."

Stoick ignored the weariness of Hiccup's reply. "Shame I'm too 'vast' to ride these horses now, isn't it?" He chuckled, "Though I don't know if I could beat you!" He started to walk into the hallway, picking his briefcase and his coat.

Hiccup followed his father, a wry smile spreading his lips, "Well then, my evil plan to fatten the competition worked."

Stoick gave him a hearty slap to the shoulder, his laughter booming. "Son of Loki, you are." He glanced at the clock hanging over the front door, 6:30 am. "Ought to go now. Meeting at the council chambers."

Hiccup held his father's car keys in front of him. "Yeah. See you at the show?" He prompted the rehearsed conversation, even though he knew the answer.

Stoick shrugged his coat on, grabbing the keys from his son's fingers. "I'll do my best to make it on time."

Hiccup frowned. "Right."

"Best be off. I'll be there, probably!" Called Stoick, opening the door and walking towards his SUV. The morning light shone on his fiery red beard.

"Bye," he called back. "I'll see you there." 'maybe,' he added to himself.

Stoick waved at him before backing away from the gravel drive.

Watching the black SUV drive away, Hiccup knew Stoick wouldn't make it on time for the race.

He walked back to the house, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat.

The bang of the door closing had Toothless' nails tapping on the dark hardwood floors on the house as he chased Hiccup upstairs.

Hiccup fumbled as the big black dog overtook him and almost tripped him. "Toothless!" he complained.

Toothless stopped on his tracks and came back from the end of the hallway to wait for him at the landing, and barked at him, his body lowering to the floor in a playful stance. 'Hurry up!' he seemed to say.

Hiccup threw him a fond smile before they walked together, the dog at his heel as he opened the door to his bedroom.

He walked straight to the wooden desk he had pushed to the right of the room next to the wardrobe, pocketing the keys to his jeep.

He picked up his camera and started fiddling with its equipment, making sure the camera was properly charged and he had the lenses he needed. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Toothless jumping on the bed and lying on top of his pillows, settling into a comfortable nap.

He changed his coat for a jacket, hanging it over his arm. He'd most probably need it later.

He grabbed the camera bag and turned to the lulling dog, "C'mon, Toothless!"

Toothless opened a wary eye before he closed it again.

Hiccup readjusted the strap of the bag on his shoulder before he tried again. "Bud, let's go."

Toothless looked at him levelly, not getting up from his spot.

"Alright then, you lazy dog, suit yourself," Hiccup started leaving the room, looking back once in a while to see if the dog was following. "if you want to be all by yourself today be my guest."

The boy waited at the landing, his hands tapping on his thighs. He didn't last long before he came back into the bedroom, incredulous. "Really? not even the threat of loneliness? You're ruthless." He walked to the dog and lied down next to him, careful with his camera but letting the coat slide to the floor, and putting his forearm over his face in mock devastation.

"I've been abandoned," he whined. "I should have listened when people told me not to take in the wild wolf-dog."

Toothless plopped his head on Hiccup's chest and Hiccup's arms curled around the dog, his fingers threading through the dog's coarse fur, his smile fading as he thought of his father.

When was the last time Stoick had gone to see Hiccup at the turf? Hiccup couldn't even remember it. It had been like this since his mother had left them. Sometimes, he-

He stilled, and both dog and boy shared a look before they smiled.

"C'mon bud. Let's see if there are moments we can capture."

When Hiccup stood up to leave, Toothless followed.

"Astrid!" Her mother's shrill tone shook her out of her thoughts. "Focus!"

Astrid blushed, she addressed the photographer. "I'm sorry."

Valerie gave her a smile that was dripping with kindness. "Not to worry, girlie," and clicked away on her camera for a few minutes before she stopped. "Astrid, can you smile? Look happy, in love."

Wasn't she smiling? Astrid quickly corrected it, changing her scowl for a soft smile. It lasted as long as she took to look at her mother.

Ingrid was furious. She was glaring at Astrid from behind Valerie, her arms crossed and her foot tapping. Tapping.

Astrid glared back at her, straightening her spine, her fingers curling like claws on the white tulle.

"Miss Hofferson," Valerie sighed. "happy and in love. It's a bridal shoot, dear."

Astrid re-focused, but she couldn't bring herself to smile.

After a few unsatisfying pictures, Valerie stood up. There was an air of finality to her actions as she signaled everyone for a five-minute break.

She approached Astrid first, raising a hand in a stopping motion so she wouldn't follow.

Astrid squared her jaw and frowned, her fingers curling on the dress.

'Fit and ready for battle,' mused Valerie, a hand reaching for the girl's shoulder. She tensed when she felt the girl shaking. Whether it was with fear or anger, Valerie wasn't too sure.

Valerie saw the girl-dam about to burst, and she sighed. "Miss Hofferson, why don't you go home for the day? I'll explain you weren't feeling well."

Astrid's face slackened, her face hot with humiliation and despair. She'd failed. She avoided the woman's green eyes, comforting with her gaze, to settle on the floor. She nodded her agreement.

As she walked off to get changed, a burning tear fell down her cheek, but it remained unseen, as Astrid wiped it as soon as she could.

Stepping out of a dress that was more beautiful than she could ever be, Astrid could hear the argument between her mother and the photographer raging on:

"-making her uncomfortable! How am I supposed to take her picture like this?!"

"I'll talk to her! She should know by now not to act this childish." Her mother's voice sounded closer to the dressing room.

"Ingrid, all I'm saying is-"

"And you're not one to criticize my parenting, Valerie, at least I've got my child with me!"

They were almost at the door. Astrid finished dressing and waited for them to burst into the room, but nothing happened for a moment.

Then, she heard Valerie's voice murmur with resentment, "You don't know what you're talking about. And as long as you stay near my models, I won't ever take their pictures," she said, with the finality of a judge's verdict.

Astrid heard steps receding before Ingrid slammed the door open, "See what you did?" Ingrid came dangerously close to her, pointing her finger like a sword, but Astrid squared up. "Now you're fired!"

"Fine," Astrid spit out, grabbing her bag and her phone and pushing her mother with her shoulder as she stormed out of the room, her presence, and the building.

Some of the people on the street turned to her curiously as she stormed past them, but New Yorkers were the tough sort, and let her be.

Astrid tried calling Heather, but she wasn't picking up. 'Probably in rehearsal…'

She needed a distraction. Heather wasn't available but she needed… she needed someone.

Anyone.

Her fingers flew over her phone screen, but stopped at Erik Cameron's number, hesitating to press the green 'call' button.

She had never called her boyfriend for something like this.

For a moment, she entertained the notion of them becoming a real couple who supported each other, and she pressed 'call', hailing a cab while it rang.

Erik hadn't picked up, but it was noon. He'd probably still be in his apartment.

"Where to, Miss?" The taxi driver was asking her, and Astrid burst into tears.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, angry at herself for making a scene, giving the driver the directions to her boyfriend's apartment.

The driver nodded and took off, trying to ignore the crying girl in his backseat.

They traveled for twenty minutes before the car rolled to a stop in front of a posh building.

Astrid paid the driver with some wrinkled bills and gave him a quiet and embarrassed 'thank you' before going up to the elevator and tapping her boyfriend's floor number.

Walking down the corridor until she reached number 13, she took out her key and opened the door as quietly as she could, in case Erik was still hungover or asleep.

"Erik?" she called out, but no one answered.

She heard moaning coming from the bedroom. 'Of course,' thought Astrid. 'Pre-lunch porn.' She rolled her eyes at his predictability.

She approached the bedroom and listened with her ear to the door, not meaning to interrupt him.

"Erik!" she heard a woman's moan.

Astrid straightened, frowning. That was oddly specific.

She turned the handle and slammed the door open, and there her boyfriend was.

Naked, half-sitting on his bed, eyes closed and with a girl on top of him, her brown hair bouncing along with her.

Author's note: I've changed some of the wording, the last girl's hair color, and some mistakes! I was in a hurry to post this before I left for work so I never got a chance to write a bit about this story.

It's been in my mind for months so I've been obsessed with getting everything right, doing research and writing about the locations and the people, so ask me anything! I could tell you everything from the politics to the economy and social customs of this place. I've been that obsessed.

Each chapter is named after a song and will always include the part of the lyrics that inspired the themes I'd be focusing on, and I highly recommend you check out the songs!

About the speed I'll be posting in: Next chapter should come soon, as it's already outlined, but I'm really, very busy with work and school so after chapter 2 I might not update regularly as I wish, but I will try for a chapter every week, if that's alright with you all as well!

Please let me know what you think, your predictions, your feelings, what you thought about the scenes or the characters, (this is my first HTTYD story, so please let me know if you think the characters' reactions are inaccurate! Also, if there's anyone out there willing to be my beta reader I'd really welcome your help.) You guys can PM through here or send me an Ask through tumblr (same username) if there's anything you want to talk about!

Thank you for reading!