A/N: Hey guys! So I just saw How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World, but I promise this story won't have any spoilers (except for maybe at the very end). This story starts off around the same time as the second movie, although it is AU. Also, this is my first fanfiction, but I thought I might as well put the AP English skills to work, so please review! Your thoughts (both good and bad) are appreciated :)

Summary: Hiccup Haddock left five years ago. Astrid Hofferson never wanted kids. But after a tragic event occurs, she stumbles into a bar, unaware that the drunken night will change the rest of her life. AU. Hiccstrid.

Chapter 1

The ship was ten times the length of theirs, four times as tall, fixed with metal, and built like a fortress. The captain stood at the helm, a horrifyingly large man, even for viking standards, with swarthy, scarred dark skin and black dreadlocks. He smiled cruelly down at each of them, before turning back to the chief with the flaming red beard, who was also being restrained. "Tell me why I should spare your men, Stoick? You know I am no man of mercy."

The red-bearded viking glared back.

"Drago," he spoke evenly, his eyes hard, "you know we mean no harm. We never meant to bother you."

"No, but you are bothering me," Drago sneered, "If you think I will let you live this ti‒"

"Sir," a soldier ran up to the evil man, breathing heavily, "I hate to interrupt, but the Dragon Masters were spotted again, and they've managed to free several of them. It's now or never, sir." The dark man's eyes hardened even more, if that was possible.

"GET THEM!" he bellowed, and his men scrambled away. The man turned back to the chief. "You are lucky I don't consider you a threat. Get you and your men out of my face, NOW!" The Berkians quickly scrambled back to work, preparing to turn their ship away from Drago's and his armada, but not before the scarred man caught sight of the blonde girl. He turned to Stoick. "I change my mind. You give me that pretty girl over there, and I'll let your ship go, no questions asked."

Stoick's eyes hardened as he readied his reply, knowing that it would be his death sentence when Martin Hofferson, who had been standing nearby, frantically stepped between his chief and Drago.

"Please, sir, don't take my daughter. I'll do anything," he pleaded. Drago looked angered before he grinned sinisterly.

"Anything, eh? I like my men to be loyal. Take him!" His men quickly surrounded the blonde viking male, whose daughter had just caught wind of what was happening as her father was directed towards the large, steel-bodied ship.

"No, Dad!" She struggled against the men who held her back, "Let my dad go! Dad!" the blonde man turned back towards his daughter, blue eyes on blue eyes.

"Astrid, take care of your mother. Stay strong, Astrid, I love you," and with that, her father was gone, pushed somewhere below the deck of the massive ship. The female viking warrior stood in shock, before lashing out, kicking and screaming at the men who had stopped her from going after her father before turning her azure blue eyes onto the red-haired chief.

"You," she accused, "You let my father be taken away! He was your friend, one of your men! You always say that a chief protects his own!" At that, the chief, who had remained calm during the ordeal up until the point, stood over the girl, his finger pointing to her chest.

"What would you do, if you were in my position, Astrid? Allow a young viking of your tribe be taken to be raped and used? Allow your entire crew to be sentenced to death by refusing? Or allow a man who volunteered to be taken away?" He stood back and softened before continuing, "Astrid, you are right. Martin doesn't deserve this, and we will get him back, but not until we are back at Berk with more men and a plan, alright?" But he was only met with a glare.

"You said the same thing about finding Hiccup," she said, and he flinched before the sound of a slamming door echoed across the deck.

By nightfall they docked at a port and the tired Berkians walked off the boat to wander for the night and stretch their sea legs, before they would gather supplies and head out in the morning. The men didn't try to stop the blonde as she stormed into town, locating the nearest pub, pushing past drunken men and women before slamming her fist down on the thick wooden counter. The barkeep, a young man about her age with blonde dreadlocks, wordlessly placed a mug of ale in front of her. She downed it and he refilled. "Thanks," she murmured.

"No problem. I'm Tuffnut by the way. I take it you had a bad day?" Normally, Astrid would have spit in his face at the nonchalant way he asked, but the ale was loosening her up.

"Gee, how'd you guess that?" she rolled her eyes.

"Chicken told me," he said seriously, jerking his thumb to the brown chicken on the table that had somehow managed to escape her notice before. Astrid rolled her eyes once more before deciding that she needed more ale, more mead to drown out the events of the day.

Minutes turned to hours later when Tuffnut spoke once more, "What are you having tonight, H?" Astrid looked up at him, wondering how in the world he had managed to figure out her last name before she noticed that someone, a man, was standing beside her stool. She studied him: tall, broad-shouldered, and on the skinnier side, but with defined muscles that could be seen through his deep red-tunic, and unruly auburn hair. Small stubble lined his sharp jaw.

"Just give me the usual, Tuff," an unusually nasal voice spoke from beside her, and she looked towards to voice to see a pair of deep emerald eyes piercing into her blue ones. She blushed, her mind foggy from the ale, before realizing that she was staring and quickly turned away. The table suddenly seemed very interesting.

In her peripheral vision Astrid saw dark amber liquid being poured into a mug, obviously much stronger than her ale. She watched as a rough, calloused hand took hold of the mug and brought it to its owner's lips, which were‒

Stop it, Astrid. She shook her head, trying to shake the thoughts out of her intoxicated mind, before noticing that his emerald gaze was studying her thoughtfully, boring two holes right through her side. She shivered.

"Had a bad day, milady?" Astrid glanced at him, before taking another swig of her ale.

"It's none of your business," she murmured into her mug, "And don't call me that."

"Well, milady," he chuckled, taking down his drink as well, "to be fair my day hasn't been the greatest either."

Before she realized what she was doing, Astrid's lips were next to his ear, and she could feel his hot breath on her neck, goosebumps raising down her arm. "Bet you mine was way worse," she smirked, her competitive side showing through her drunken state, before leaning back.

"Yeah?" he asked, his nasal voice husky, emerald gaze on her lips, mere inches away from his own.

"Yeah," she whispered, and with that, she closed the distance between them. Instantly, she felt warmth seep through her body from his lips, tingling sensations that traveled through her core all the way to her toes. Her foggy mind vaguely registered being led down a corridor and through a door, his slender yet strong form pulling away for just a second, still holding her close, his nasal yet slightly slurred voice asking her for consent. And she recalled herself nodding, her body already missing his warmth, before she heard the door shut and she let her body take over, warm tingles erasing the troubling events of the day from her mind.

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