Astrid thought it was a joke at first.

The form is open on the computer and Astrid scrolls through it, trying not to laugh.

"You're not serious, Hiccup?" she says, glancing up to where he's curled up on the sofa, nose in a book.

"Unfortunately yes," he says.

In bold letters at the top of the browser page the words 'BE ON A SHOW' are written.

Don't Tell the Bride is a fun, factual entertainment programme in which the groom organises the wedding alone, and the bride knows nothing until the big day!

ACCEPTING APPLICATIONS

Calling all brides! Need money to fund your wedding? Look no further! Don't Tell the Bride offers £12,000 to pay for the wedding of your dreams!

Grooms, do you have what it takes to organise the perfect day for the one you love?

Apply today!

Astrid sighs, standing up and dropping herself down beside him on the seat, nudging him at him to move up and give her space.

"Stoick put you up to this, didn't he?" she says.

Hiccup closes the book and places it on the table, groaning and dragging his hands across his face. "He's been bugging me since you proposed."

"But this, Hiccup, really?" she says, still holding back a laugh. "Hiccup this is so not us."

He bends over and presses his face into the sofa cushion, his voice muffled when he speaks. "I know."

Astrid rests her feet on the coffee table, slumping back into the sofa. "Just because your Dad says we should, doesn't mean we have to listen to him. Since when have we ever listened to Stoick anyway?"

Hiccup gives a long sigh, his face still in the pillow. Astrid raises an eyebrow, frowning at her boyfriend.

"You're not actually considering it, are you?" she says.

Hiccup pulls himself up slowly, his hand snaking over towards Astrid, their fingers linking together.

"Astrid," he says. "All I want to do is marry you, right now, and you know my Dad won't accept anything less than a stupidly lavish ceremony. We're art school graduates. We're not going to have enough money to do this for years. If we do this, we're going to have the money for it, and we can do it now."

Astrid gives a soft smile, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. "You're sweet, Hiccup," she says. "And I get the benefits. But you've seen the show right? We're not the right couple for this."

"I know."

"I mean, they're going to paint you as this clueless moron that doesn't know anything about me. And they're going to make me out to be this demanding little princess that can't accept anything less than her own way."

"I know."

"I'm not a bridezilla, Hiccup!"

"I know!" Hiccup says, grabbing her hands and turning her to face him. "I know, Astrid. But I love you, and all I want to do is be with you, and this is the only way we're going to be able to do it."

Astrid smiles, resting her forehead against Hiccup's, her hand resting at the crook of his neck. "I love you too," she says, moving forward and pressing her lips against his. "And all I want to do is be with you too."

Then she moves her forehead away, her hands moving down to rest on her shoulders. "But we really need to think about this, Hiccup. It's cameras invading our personal lives – you'd hate that. Not to mention the three weeks of no contact. We've seen each other every single day since we were twelve, and suddenly not being able to speak is going to be horrible. We really need to think about this first."

Hiccup nods. "You're right. As always."

Astrid grins, swivelling around and snuggling up onto the sofa, her head resting on Hiccup's shoulder. "I know."

It's not until dinner with Hiccup's parents that they decide to go for it.

Valka and Stoick sit opposite the young couple, smiling wildly. Hiccup shoots Astrid a fearful look.

Stoick guffaws and claps his meaty hands down onto the table. "So," he says. "Have you thought anymore about what I said?"

"Yeah, Dad," Hiccup says. "Y'know, we're really not sure about this. We're private people, do we really want cameras in our home? Also, we're not sure we want to be apart for that long."

"Hiccup," his father drawls. "At this rate we're never going to see the two of you tie the knot."

"It would be good to see you too finally make it official," Valka chips in.

"We don't have to be married for it to be official," Astrid says, but it's not the argument she's trying to make. She wants to marry Hiccup, she's wanted nothing more for a while.

Hiccup's parents make puppy dog eyes – or at least as 'puppy dog' as two tough-as-nails adults in their fifties can be.

Hiccup glances at Astrid. She shrugs.

"Fine," Hiccup groans. "We'll make an application."

"You know, we're never going to get in if we tell the truth," Astrid says, perching on the edge of Hiccup's chair, and looking over his shoulder.

Hiccup had the application form open on his laptop and was typing in answers to the questions written.

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" Astrid says, getting up and pulling a spare chair over to the desk. "They want polar opposites. They want two people who have a completely different idea of the perfect wedding. They want you to be selfish and plan someone that you want and completely enrage me."

"But I don't want to enrage you!" Hiccup says.

Astrid laughs, pressing a kiss to Hiccup's cheek. "I know you don't. But the television company will want you to. It makes good T.V."

Hiccup chews on his lip, his hand scratching the back of his head and his gaze on the floor. "Are you sure you want to do this, Astrid? I don't want to cause any problems between us."

"It won't," Astrid says, reaching over and placing her hands on Hiccup's. "I love you, Hiccup, and I want to marry you. Whatever you organise will make me happy, no matter what the company try to stir up between us. We've been together for ten years. That's too long for anyone to meddle with."

He smiles, and turns to delete what he had written in the form, offering up the laptop for Astrid to type.

"Do you think we'll get it?" he asks.

"I don't know," Astrid says. "But we're a good couple choice. Childhood sweethearts – TV shows eat that shit up."

Hiccup can't hold back his laughter.

A few weeks later the couple were contacted and told that their application had been shortlisted. All of a sudden what they had done suddenly felt more real and less like a joke. Both Astrid and Hiccup could feel it looming over them; that sometime in the next few months, they could be married.

One day, when work and other responsibilities were hanging over them, they cuddled up on the sofa, Astrid's head rested on Hiccup's shoulder, his arm wrapped around her.

"What happens if we do get it?" he says, out of the blue.

Astrid doesn't even have to ask what he's talking about. "Then I guess you're organising a wedding in three weeks?" she says.

"No, I mean. We won't be able to see or talk to each other for three weeks. I don't want to go without seeing you for three weeks. How are we going to manage?" he says, his voice quickening as he talks.

"Hiccup, you're panicking," Astrid says, pressing a hand to his chest. "We'll be fine."

She heaves herself up off the sofa, mumbling something about hot chocolate for the both of them, and heads towards the kitchen. She hovers at the door and turns back to look at Hiccup, something of a smirk on her face.

"Besides," she says, with a twinkle in her eye. "Rules are made to be broken."

It's their motto. It's been their motto since they met when they were twelve. Lord knows how many letters were sent home from angry teachers trying to tame the two troublemakers. None of them succeeded. Hiccup's pretty sure that Stoick treasured those letters, relishing the fact that Hiccup was a mischief-maker.

Three days later, they receive a phone call telling them that they've been selected for an episode on the show. Hiccup tries not to freak out too much.

Both of them freak out a little a bit when they're taken into a small room with a lawyer to go over the contract. Astrid can't help but feel boxed in, what with the camera crew squashed in a corner, and the lawyer harshly intonating how much they'll have to pay if they break contract. Hiccup notices her distress and squeezes her hand under the table, holding it for the rest of the meeting.

It's over soon enough, and as they leave, a man in an expensive suit walks up to them.

"You are Astrid Hofferson and, uh, Hiccup Haddock?" he asks.

Hiccup wrinkles his nose when the man says his name. He's used to people thinking his name is weird.

"Yes, that's us," Astrid replies politely, holding out her hand for the man to shake.

"I'm Dave," the man says. "I'm one of the producers of the show."

They talk a little more and Dave explains how the cameras work, when they'll be filming and what they expect from the two of them.

He ends the conversation by saying "Our camera people will arrive at nine o'clock tomorrow morning to film your initial interviews and then your goodbyes. One of you must find somewhere else to stay for the duration of the three weeks."

"So soon?!" Hiccup says, speaking for the first time since Dave introduced himself.

"Yes," Dave says. "You better be ready for their arrival."

His tone is cold, and Hiccup decides that he doesn't like the man.

He shoots a glance at Astrid, stricken. He isn't ready to say goodbye to Astrid for three weeks; he wanted much more time to talk with her about the upcoming month.

One night doesn't seem long enough.

When they get home, they spend the whole night cuddled up in each other's arms, neither of them wanting to spend a minute apart, knowing that as soon as Hiccup leaves, they are not going to see each other again until the altar.