AN: After a long and very unexpected hiatus, I am glad to finally have a chance to complete this chapter. I do apologize for the delay and thank everyone for their patience. Without getting into too much detail, the family crisis noted in early chapters became significantly worse and took precedent over everything else. Things are (relatively) more calm now, so I am hopeful that another unplanned absence won't be necessary moving forward.

For those who also follow Deceit, I am hoping to get the next chapter up this week (barring any unforeseen issues). Rest assured, while I can't guarantee a consistent posting schedule, both of these stories will continue.

Enjoy.

With the rays of the setting sun at her back, Stormfly pushed on into the dark eastern sky. As the faintest hint of stars began to form above the horizon, the dying sunlight licked at rough stone to draw the silhouette of Berk from the shadow of the frigid sea.

The closer they flew, the brighter the pinpoint lights became. What at first appeared to be reflections of starlight in the black waters soon revealed themselves to be the flames of the tribe's stone warriors as they began their nightly watch.

The sight prompted Astrid to release a content sigh, feeling the persistent tug of home lessening with every mile. She never really appreciated the beauty of their modest little village until she could experience it from the back of a dragon. Seeing the island cast in fading veils of pink and amber brought back memories of the first time she saw the land that she loved in all it's glory. And the unexpected person who gave her that gift. As one ache eased, realizing that she again returned alone replaced it with the heavy burden of a secret she never dreamed she would have to keep.

"Astrid!"

The familiar voice yanked the woman from her musings, pulling her attention to the left. Though tired and discouraged, Astrid couldn't fight the smile that grew at the sight of an ecstatic Gronckle racing towards her. Or at least as fast as a Gronckle could race.

Balanced on top of the rotund dragon sat Fishlegs, a hand holding his helmet in place as Meatlug turned more sharply than usual.

"Hey!" Astrid called back, beaming. Though her spirits were dampened, seeing a friendly face was a welcomed distraction. But as the pair approached, Astrid could see the details of Fishlegs' expression, and the concern it carried. Her brow knit. "Is everything okay?"

It wasn't clear at first whether the younger man had heard her. His features showed no reaction to her inquiry, too laser-focused as he looked Astrid and her Nadder over anxiously. Methodically scanning their forms, he quickly analyzed their condition. Though his gaze hitched momentarily as he noted Stormfly's bandaged leg, he finally exhaled as his heavy brow lightened, satisfied that both were in relatively in good health. Still there was a nervous twitch of his lips that gave Fishlegs away every time. "Um, yeah", he stressed, pitch far too high as he scratched at his translucent stubble. "Other than Stoick being on a rampage right now."

Though relieved to hear that Berk was well, knowing that the Chief was not made Astrid's stomach turn. "Oh, no…", she sighed with a cringe. "How bad?"

Meatlug hovered next to Stormfly, tongue lolled happily out of her mouth as she panted. Her rider pursed his lips, glancing down pensively at the dragon before raising his gaze again. "Remember when Tuffnut set his beard on fire?"

Uh oh. "Yeeeah?" Astrid drawled, tensing at the memory of their leader storming through the village with his uneven facial hair and smudges of soot still coating his hands.

"At least 38% worse than that." Fishlegs rubbed his chin in thought before looking back at her. "Conservative."

Deflated, Astrid sighed. "Great", she muttered.

"Yeah...", Fishlegs breathed sympathetically. He then jerked his thumb towards Berk. "You should probably let him know you're back before he starts sending out ships."

The thought sent a reflexive twitch to Astrid's eye, knowing how dire things had to be before their chief would even consider using precious resources to venture away from the island. Images came to mind of Hooligan ships landing on distant shores, throwing around accusations to allies and enemies alike. It was a scenario that had no possibility of ending well.

"Will do", she affirmed dryly. "Thanks, Fishlegs."

Hurrying towards Berk, Stormfly smoothly maneuvered past several other Nadders who lazily soared towards the humble village to roost for the night. What had once been a terrifying sight for any Berkian was now a daily occurrence that signaled the end of the long day. As Vikings wrapped up their chores before milling towards the Great Hall, dragons of all types would settle on rooftops or curl up between huts. Some of the more personable ones had even charmed their way into people's homes, becoming full-fledged members of the family.

A shriek of laughter sounded beneath Stormfly as they neared the center of town. Leaning over on her saddle, Astrid smiled down at the sight of children bolting after a flock of Terrible Terrors. On their heels was a cobby Gronckle who eagerly chased after them. One little boy caught her eye; younger than the others and running in the opposite direction. With arms spread wide apart, the child ran towards the Boulder-class dragon's open jaws with an enormous grin. As he collided with the beast's rough hide, he embraced the gentle but powerful giant. There was no apprehension; not a shred of concern for his own safety.

Astrid was struck by a surreal but beautiful realization: that many of the village's children wouldn't even remember a time where dragons were feared. In the next generation, they would only know tales of their parents growing up with the daily threat of dragon attacks. It would probably seem strange to them, imagining their village elders living in fear of the affable creatures that lived among them.

That was the dream, at least. One that Astrid and the other riders tried to fulfill. And there were set-backs. Days when it seemed too easy for the tenuous peace to be shattered. But as different as she and the others may have been, they shared the belief that dragons were not only beneficial to Berk, but integral. It wasn't a dream of their imagining, but one that they gladly worked towards achieving.

Taking in the various dragons who meandered calmly through the town, Astrid couldn't help but wonder what Hiccup would think if he saw - with his own eyes - what he had created.

A low squawk signaled Stormfly's descent, alerting anyone below to give proper berth as she landed at the center of the village. To her rider's relief, the square was largely vacant. After a draining few days, both physically and emotionally, Astrid was hoping to avoid a mass interrogation.

She jumped off her saddle and gave the tired Nadder an appreciative scratch on her jaw. At first smiling as Stormfly happily crooned, Astrid suddenly stilled as she heard the slow plod of footsteps approaching. She resisted the urge to fully turn, only glancing out the corner of her eye to see one of the village's matrons with a sack of goods thrown over her shoulder. The woman didn't appear to notice them yet, so Astrid chose to ignore her in hopes that she would do the same. But when the footsteps suddenly stopped, Astrid groaned quietly. Of course it couldn't be that easy.

"Mrs. Haddock?"

Astrid's nose scrunched up at the sound of the familiar timbre. Mrs. Hagebak. A well-meaning but dour woman who had taken it upon herself to "teach" Astrid how to be a respectable caretaker to her new family's hall. These lessons consisted of unsolicited criticism and an impromptu demonstration every time Mrs. Hagebak noticed Astrid falling short of her personal standard when carrying out household duties. Which was always. Just because Astrid didn't have a groom was apparently no excuse for failing to be a proper wife.

The heavy sound of Mrs. Hagebak's bag hitting the ground preceded her approaching steps. This evidently attracted the attention of others, and Astrid rolled her eyes as the predictable chatter began to form. Her tribesman were good people. But no matter how bleak life could get, the one thing that always re-energized them was the promise of good gossip.

Steeling herself, Astrid wore a neutral expression as she turned to meet Mrs. Hagebak's stare.

"Where 'ave you been, girl?" the matron breathed sternly, moving much closer than Astrid preferred. Her calloused fingers grasped the young woman's shoulder to keep her in place as she looked her over.

Holding back an outward cringe, Astrid looked away in thought. "Well..."

But the older woman didn't wait for an answer, tsking under her breath as she examined a patch of splattered stains on Astrid's tunic. "Days worth o' blood and grime", she muttered with a shake of her head. "It's a good thing tomorrow is Laugardagr [1]...we'll have that out 'n no time."

After everything she had been through, the woman's concern with the state of her clothing caused Astrid to huff with amusement as she smiled cheekily. "I am a Viking, Mrs. Hagebak."

With that remark the matron's sharp gaze fell on Astrid momentarily. "Aye, as am I", she replied coolly, returning her attention to the garment. "An' just because blood is spilled doesn' mean we have to walk around wearin' it like barbarians."

It was too easy to fall back into old debates, and Astrid was about to comment how the men were never berated for the state of their clothes. But a sudden pressure gripped her arm, and her body was ripped from the crone's grasp before being roughly pulled into a tight embrace.

The motion knocked the wind out of Astrid as a solid weight struck her diaphragm. Ensnared by someone almost a head shorter than herself, she peered down to see graying hair twisted into thin braids and loosely pulled back into a high bun. Around her assailant's shoulders was the thick bear cloak that all members of the Jorgenson hall wore.

The stout woman finally released her hold, and looked up at Astrid with the same piercing blue eyes as her son. "You alright?" the matron asked worriedly.

A bit forward and as boisterous as the rest of her husband's clan, Mrs. Jorgenson had a surprisingly loving soul. Though fierce in battle as a marksman and known for her hair trigger temper, she was equally as passionate about the well-being of the tribe's children and young adults. Especially her beloved son. As much as Astrid attributed Snotlout's more obnoxious qualities to his repugnant father, she equally credited his mother for fostering his hidden sensitivity.

"I'm fine, Brynhild", Astrid assured the woman with a tired smile.

Releasing a relieved sigh, the woman clapped her hand against Astrid's arm. "Well you better tell Stoick that", Mrs. Jorgenson warned as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts. "An' quick." She then leaned in to whisper, though spoke just as loud as before. "Man's been even more surly than usual, if you can believe that."

Astrid chuckled at the remark, but stopped as Mrs. Hagebak's hand landed heavily on her shoulder, reminding them of her presence.

"You'd be wise, Mrs. Haddock, not to engage 'n insults against the head o' your hall." Mrs. Hagebak stepped forward to stand beside Astrid, looking down at the other matron with a judgmental stare. "Mrs. Jorgenson should know better than to encourage it."

The shorter woman shot back a withering glare. "I will speak of my brother-in-law however I please, Mrs. Hagebak."

Mrs. Hagebak's thick lips pulled back into a small smirk. "O' course you will", she agreed lightly. "You've never let good sense stop you from doin' anything, so why start now?"

Face reddening in offense, Mrs. Jorgenson snarled. In an instant, her hand flew to the dagger at her hip, unsheathing and holding the blade at her side. "Come o'er here an' say that again, Torfa!"

Unimpressed, Mrs. Hagebak's shoulders bounced as she scoffed, looking down her nose at the small blade. "That wee knife against my glaive?" she taunted, almost playfully, as she slowly grasped the staff from her back. A twist of the weapon highlighted the sharply honed blade at the end. "Again, you're not thinkin', Bryny."

"Don't you call me that!" Mrs. Jorgenson shouted, jabbing her index finger towards the other woman. "Since we were girls I've told you not to call me that!"

As the matrons continued hurling insults, Astrid looked on wearily. For all the energy and excitement of their impending brawl, such scuffles were mundane in the life of a Viking. Still, she quickly realized that it could serve as a chance to slip away unnoticed. But while the two women were sufficiently distracted, the skirmish only attracted more attention their way. A crowd soon formed around the spectacle, and many were suddenly aware of Astrid's return.

This was far from the inconspicuous arrival she had hoped for.

The questioning started immediately, with some expressing relief while others suspiciously scrutinized her absence. Voices overlapped into a cacophony, each vying for her to respond to them first.

Astrid offered quick waves and hurried excuses, repeatedly asking where to find the chief until Agnarr finally pointed towards the Great Hall. She began to edge towards the building, struggling to present a patient exterior as more people followed and approached with questions.

"Yes, I'll-No, I wasn't going to -" Her broken responses grew more terse as she climbed the stairs, discouraged to see that it didn't deter her unwanted entourage. At the top of the steps she quickened her stride and turned to place her back against the ornate Hall door. She had no intention of being cornered inside the building. Stepping backwards, Astrid slowly pushed the door inward, leaving barely enough space for her to slide in. "I'm fine", she assured for the twelfth time through clenched teeth, no longer able to hide her irritation. "Thank you! Thank you!"

She quickly darted inside before placing both hands on the door and firmly closing it. She held her position, half-expecting to press back against it. But to her relief, the door stayed shut.

Astrid sighed, grateful for the barrier between her and the interrogation of her tribesmen. But her brief solace was short-lived. She gazed towards the far end of the Hall where the elders regularly congregated. The light of the fire pit caused shadows to dance along the building's robust pillars, casting a bold shadow across the room.

Groaning to herself as she kept to the perimeter of the room, Astrid ignored the prying glances of the few villagers who waited inside for dinner preparations. A young girl, tasked with lighting the smaller torches that lined the edges of the Hall, did a poor job of pretending not to stare as she watched the female warrior from the corner of her eye.

"No. Way."

The sudden gasp slowed Astrid's pace, though she didn't have to turn to know it was Tuffnut. Releasing a quiet huff, she came to a full stop and glanced over her shoulder to see the young man's slack-jawed expression.

Forehead furrowed, Astrid's gaze then flicked to the woman standing at his side.

Ruffnut's thick blonde plaits swayed as she turned to see what had caught her brother's attention. Her brow raised in interest until her eyes landed on Astrid. A mischievous grin then spread across her face. "Oooh!" she sang with a cackle, "you are in trouuuuubleeee…"

"I'll say", Tuffnut agreed, carefully approaching Astrid. Eyes wide in fascination, his gaze darted towards his sister before shooting back. "Stoick is going to be pissed when he finds out Berk is haunted now."

With a curled lip, Astrid again met Tuffnut's intense stare, watching as he gestured dramatically.

"Tell us, Great Spirit", he intoned, slowly circling the perplexed woman. "What force still tethers you to this mortal realm? Vengeance? A deed undone?" He then gasped as his hand flew to his mouth. Eyes suddenly widening, almost excited, he leaned forward. "Vengeance?" he repeated in a harsh whisper.

Eyelashes fluttering as she tried to process what she had just heard, Astrid's expression then slacked. She warily took her eyes off of Tuffnut and looked at the female twin pointedly in hope of some explanation for the young man's odd behavior. Odder behavior.

Ruffnut shrugged in disinterest. "Latest rumor is that you're dead."

Shoulder slumping, Astrid frowned as she hummed in acknowledgement. "Where's the chief?" she asked flatly as she scanned the room, surprised to find his usual seat empty. Though she didn't see Stoick, her gaze was drawn to a peculiar sight. Her brow creased as she looked at the table next to the twins, and the assortment of random supplies sprawled across it's wooden surface. A few bowls, a half-eaten turnip, one ram's horn, two shields and at least a dozen saxes [2] in poor repair. "And what are you doing?" A familiar wooden object then caught her eye, causing her to crane her neck for a better look. "Is that Gobber's hand?"

Swiftly stepping to the side to block Astrid's view, Ruffnut redirected the other woman's attention with a nod of her head. "Back room", she replied nonchalantly. Ruffnut then smirked. "And if I were you", she advised, "I'd worry a little less about what we're doing and a little more on what you're going to say to Stoick."

Meanwhile, Tuffnut held out a shaking hand, moving it slowly towards Astrid's shoulder. When his fingertips met resistance against her skin, his expression melted to a disappointed frowned, ignoring the perturbed look of the vexed blonde. "Are you sure you died right?" he asked accusingly, continuing to prod her.

Groaning, Astrid rolled her eyes and pulled her shoulder back to avoid the next jab. Without another word she left the pair behind and continued towards the entry to the far chamber.

As she entered the smaller room, Astrid first saw the shock of red from Stoick's beard. Though the hue had muted with age, the warmth of the firelight reignited some of the vibrancy of his youth. But his form revealed the true toll of time. While still an imposing figure, his spine could no longer remain rigid for long. Shoulders pulled slightly forward and his head nested between them, the Chieftain stood beside the table at the center of the room. Thick palms laying flat on the surface as his arms held his weight, he stared gravely at the shriveled elder speaking across from him.

Steeling herself, Astrid entered the room. She almost didn't see Snotlout, who leaned casually against the stone wall. Whatever the council was speaking of, it clearly didn't hold his interest.

As Astrid passed him, Snotlout's eyes widened in surprise. His gaze flickered between her and the wizened men, who were still unaware of the woman's presence.

Sights set on Stoick, Astrid cringed as she forced the air from her lungs. "Chief!" she finally called, managing to still the anxiety in her voice.

Before all of the elders could turn, Snotlout impulsively grabbed Astrid's wrist and held it up in the air. "Uh, I found her, Stoick!" he proudly announced, though the crooked grin he flashed weakened as he noted Astrid's sour expression. "Just...just like I said I would..."

The chief glanced at Snotlout before following his arm to see a perturbed but upright Astrid. His head tilted down, Stoick's shoulders then rose and fell. "Oh, thank Odin…", he sighed deeply. Pushing back from the table to stand at his full height, he lumbered towards them as Astrid pulled her arm free and used it to smack Snotlout across the back of his head.

The young man rubbed his head, frowning as he readjusted his helmet.

As the chief drew closer, his gaze hardened on the young woman. "Astrid, where have you been?" he breathed with exasperation, delivered as a demand but softened with worry.

Trapped in the Chieftan's heavy gaze, Astrid could feel her throat begin to constrict. Her own stare wavered momentarily, unsure of what to say. "I…", she started, trying to ignore the room full of people intently listening for her response. But the only words that came to mind were the ones she knew she couldn't say. With a defeated sigh, she looked up at Stoick with a sheepish smile. "It's...a long story."

The room remained silent, with all eyes nervously shifting to the chief.

Stoick's eyes narrowed slightly as he scrutinized Astrid's expression. Finally, he gave a single slow nod. "Walk with me", he ordered lowly, stepping past her and marching towards the main chamber.

Turning her head follow his retreating form, Astrid's expression dropped in confusion. "But-"

The Chieftain stopped to look back at her firmly, his graying eyebrows creasing.

Sucking in her lips to hold back the tail end of her protest, Astrid exhaled through her nose. "Yes, sir", she muttered.

Satisfied, Stoick plodded out the room.

Growling under her breath, Astrid's gaze connected with Snotlout's as she turned. The young man appeared as uncertain as she was, offering only a half-shrug.

She then paused to give a quick nod of respect to the surrounding elders, who looked on with interest. But the one that caught her attention was Gobber, whose rock tooth jutted out of his mouth as he cringed. It was a look Astrid had seen the old blacksmith repeatedly direct at Hiccup whenever the boy found himself at the center of controversy. It did little to encourage her.

Briskly walking after the chief, Astrid closed the gap between them. Soon she was at his heels, and the pair walked through the Hall, neither acknowledging the stares that followed them as they exited the building. Holding her head high, she ignored the murmurs of the men and women who looked on.

Usually someone would give a shout of greeting to the chief as he strode through the village, but whatever expression he bore was enough to make them hold their tongues. Eventually the curious onlookers became too obvious, and a few stern looks from both members of the Haddock clan were enough to encourage them to return to their duties. Only a few found reasons to trail at a distance under the guise of work.

Having passed the center of the village, Astrid was relieved to leave their audience behind. The only other spectator was Stormfly, who cocked her head and squawked at her rider. The Nadder started to step forward to follow, but froze when Astrid gave a quick shake of her head. Mouth tightly drawn, the woman reluctantly motioned to the dragon to stay put. As much as she wanted to have her best friend at her side, it was apparent that the chief wished to speak without interruption.

She looked ahead, keeping in step with Stoick as she trailed him by several paces. He said nothing - only continued to trudge ahead, hands clasped behind his back as he moved along the path towards the western side of town. He finally slowed his pace, and came to a stop on the edge of a bluff.

Astrid slowly stepped to stand at his side, glancing up at the chief through fallen bangs. He didn't look at her, and instead fixed an intense stare at the village storehouse before them. With a deep sigh, he crossed his arms, looking on at the relatively new building, having been rebuilt after it and all of its contents were torched in the latest raid.

Slowly adjusting her gaze to fall on the storehouse, Astrid swallowed back the acidic taste from her nervous stomach. The uncomfortable silence was becoming too much. Brash and self-assured, she never gave a second thought to how individual people felt about her. As long as she embodied respectable tenets such as honor and strength, the quibbles others may have with her personality were not of her concern.

The one exception growing up was her father. There was nothing she hated more than having even the hint that she had somehow disappointed him. And as she looked at the heavy bags under Stoick's eyes, and the tightness of his features, she was acutely aware of just how much weight his disapproval carried. Lying to him felt unconscionable.

And yet.

"I was captured", she suddenly blurted out, keeping her eyes locked ahead.

The chief didn't move at first. After a moment's pause, Astrid saw his long beard swing in her periphery as he took a quick glance over his shoulder. He finally drew her gaze when he shifted to face her. "Outcasts?" he asked in a hushed tone, purposely keeping his voice down.

Astrid shook her head, eyes flicking up to meet Stoick's stare. "Dragon Hunters."

The old man's eyes widened. Blinking slowly, he gave the most minute shake of his head in disbelief. "How did you ever escape?"

Astrid knew the question was coming. She spent the entire flight back trying to prepare, all the while cursing Hiccup for putting her into the position to boldly lie to her chief.

"After a few days they got sloppy", she replied with an easy shrug. Her gaze returned to the storehouse, her discomfort easily indiscernible from the shame of of being caught unaware. "Stopped tightening my binds each night and let time pass between guarding shifts." Astrid looked back at Stoick, surprised to see him watching her intently, enthralled in her tale. "I had an opportunity and I took it." Unsure of what else to say, she simply sighed. "And...here we are."

The chief looked on in awe at the young warrior. Fear and worry were enmeshed in what she could only describe as a sort of pride in her ability to survive such an ordeal. But his mustache wriggled as he pulled his mouth back in thought. "And that's everything?" he prodded.

The thin accusation of his words was palpable; an assurance that she had shared everything that he needed to know to keep Berk safe. Feeling her lower jaw tremble, Astrid fought a wave of nausea. There was so much she wanted to tell him. That her efforts had not been in vain. That his son was alive and less than half a days flight from where they stood. She intimately knew the pain of losing family, and she had the power to give him a relief that she would give anything to feel. But as she imagined the joy that the bereaved father would feel, she could also see the look of betrayal in Hiccup's eyes. He had begged for her silence, and despite her better judgement, she agreed to leave things as they were. To trust that Hiccup's fears of shaming his father were valid, and that she was preventing Stoick from losing his son again. Astrid didn't understand it; she couldn't. But after receiving the unlikely gift of the young man's return, denying his request almost felt like an affront to the very gods that reunited them. So instead of releasing the pent up truth in her throat, she simply nodded.

Stoick's stillness was unnerving, and Astrid expected him to call her out on her lie. But his expression finally softened as he sighed, and one side of his mustache rose as he smiled lightly. "You gave us quite a fright, Astrid."

Shoulders slumped in guilt, Astrid forced a smile of her own. "I know, sir. I'm sorry." Her apology was heartfelt, but carried with it a remorse that she would never be able to fully express to him. "I promise, next time, I'll be more careful. And I won't be gone so long."

A humorless laugh rang deep in Stoick's chest. "No, you won't", he agreed. "Because there isn't going to be a next time."

The finality of his words shook Astrid. "But, Chief!" she protested, trying to contain a growing and suspicious panic. "Please! I won't be go-"

With an emphatic shake of his head, Stoick interjected. "You're needed here, Astrid." His arm swept up, open hand gesturing to the storehouse. "All Berkian are needed. We barely have enough supplies to make it through the first half o' winter. And that's not even counting the dragons!"

The chief's words made Astrid aware of the creatures within her field of vision. At the bottom of the bluff stood one of the younger Zipplebacks, which restlessly agitated an old Monstrous Nightmare that wanted nothing more than to enjoy an undisturbed rest. It was hard to ignore just how many more dragons came to Berk each year. Every Snoggletog they would leave, only to return with many babies in tow. Though the human population was stagnant, with regular losses and only a few infants born, there were fewer people to raise livestock and harvest their meager crops. While the dragons helped them make do, they needed to ensure that there was enough food to go around.

"T-then maybe we can find supplies off the island", she proposed, her desperate mind racing to find a solution. "Or if Johann doesn't feel safe coming to us then maybe we can fly to him."

"Astrid", Stoick sighed, closing weary eyes as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You know why we can't take the dragons off the island. If they were ever seen..." His voice trailed as he shook his head and absently pressed at his temple. "We barely have enough for the Outcasts to raid at this point; an attack by any other tribe would level Berk to the ground."

Discouraged and frustrated, irritation crept into Astrid's tone. "Then what can we do?"

The chief pulled his hand away from his face, raising an eyebrow at the young woman's cheek.

Realizing her overstep, Astrid's face reddened. "Sorry", she mumbled, consciously calming her voice. "What I meant was - if we can't get supplies away from Berk, and we don't have what we need here, then what options do we have?"

The Chieftain sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked on at the nearby dragons. "I don't know", he admitted. "It is a problem that I have yet to solve. One that must be solved."

The pair watched as the Zippleback continued to harass the irritated Nightmare, using both heads to nip and bite incessantly.

"Otherwise", Stoick continued with a heavy tone, "we may have some very tough decisions to make. If there is only so much food to go around, I cannot take it from a child's mouth so that a dragon may live."

Though she understood and agreed with the chief's priorities, Astrid felt ill at the prospect of having to forsake the dragons, even in order to preserve their people. She could practically feel how hurt Hiccup would be, reminded that dragons remained expendable if the cost was human lives.

Lips pursed, Astrid watched the antagonized Nightmare's amber eyes narrow venomously at the Zippleback. It hit it's limit, and the dragon's skin erupted in a blaze as it roared fiercely at the young dragon. The Zippleback reared it's heads, hissing indignantly but taking a timid step back from the incensed elder.

The display brought a sigh to Astrid's lips. "If the dragons have nothing to eat, they'll get desperate", she noted flatly. Her eyes then flicked pointedly at Stoick. "We both know what desperate dragons are capable of."

Keeping his gaze on the dragons, Stoick warily eyed the Nightmare as it extinguished its flame and slunk away. "Aye", he agreed. "Vikings an' dragons are not so different in that way."

Astrid hummed in thought. "They'll be leaving before too long", she mused, raking her bangs back. Though that meant a new brood of babies after Snoggletog, she wondered if their brief departure could offer temporary relief to the tribe's waning supplies. Perhaps it would give her time to find a solution. Hopefully with someone else's help.

Stoick exhaled heavily. "An' until things improve", he grumbled, "it would be in their best interest if they stayed there."

Stiffening, Astrid turned to face him with wide eyes. "What?" The thought of not spending another holiday season without Stormfly was an unpleasant reality that she was slowly growing accustomed to. Imagining having to keep away from her beloved Nadder for an indeterminate amount of time felt unbearable. "No...there has to be another way."

The old man's mouth quirked into a sad smile. Meeting the woman's gaze he shook his head sympathetically. "You an' your friends know what it is to live a life at war with dragons. But even during those times, we managed to scrounge up enough food to sustain." The ends of his mouth dropped, creating a frown as his eyes unfocused. "When I was a boy", he murmured, "there were several years where food was unimaginably scarce. While Oswald of the Berserkers grew to be a reasonable man, he certainly didn't start that way. And his father was one o' the most cutthroat I've ever known. Between the dragons and a relentless war with the Berserkers, there wasn't enough food to go around."

Astrid frowned deeply, listening intently.

The chief's face darkened, and his crossed arms tightened tensely over his chest. "There were no sheep, or yak, or boars to butcher. Barely enough potatoes or roots to feed even a few families." His voice became low; nearly a whisper. "But there were a lot o' fallen dragons…"

Her breathing hitched as she absorbed his words. Jaw slacked in horror, Astrid took in air through her teeth to counteract the bile that threatened to rise from her throat. "You wouldn't…"

To her relief, Stoick shook his head. "I wouldn't", he confirmed, but sighed. "If I did I'd never be able to meet Hiccup's eye when I finally see him again in Valhalla."

Hearing him invoke his son's name made Astrid's heart twist with guilt.

"But", Stoick warned, "there are many of the elders who remember those times; who are still alive because our parents acted with desperation. And they won't hesitate to do the same for their families."

When Astrid didn't react, still frozen with shame, the chief slowly moved to place a hand on each of her shoulders. He then stooped down to look her in the eye. "I need you here, to help me keep that from happenin'. Whether I'm still leading this tribe - or anyone else for that matter..." The Chieftain's gaze unfocused momentarily at the uncertainty surrounding their people's future. Though his worry was evident, he hardened his expression as he again met Astrid's stare earnestly. "If that time ever comes, I need you to get the dragons away from Berk."

Holding the older man's gaze, overcome by his sincerity, Astrid felt a fresh sense of resolve. He was giving her permission to protect the dragons; what's more, she knew how to do that. Or at least who to go to. It only made her more determined to get back to Hiccup before things became that dire.

"I...understand, sir", she assured with a brisk nod. "I'll stay here. I'll do whatever is needed of me." Her stare then became more confident; almost defiant. "But I have to ask you to reconsider letting me travel off the island." Seeing the chief's expression tighten, she continued. "I'm certain there is a solution - but I'm not so sure it's here."

Pulling his lips into a tight frown, Stoick studied Astrid's determined expression. He knew the topic wouldn't die anytime soon. "We'll talk", he relented, though his stare held firm. He pulled his hands away from her shoulders. "Perhaps. After you take care of a few extra chores."

Astrid knew he was buying himself time; that she had a long way to go to convince him. Still, it was progress. "Sounds fair."

Stoick gave an amused smile. "Oh, we'll see if you still think so after you've mucked all o' the stables, helped Gobber fix every sword an' axe used in the last raid, watched the Larson's brood, sheared Sven's sheep, collected roots for Gothi, an' harvested the last o' Mildew's crops."

Hearing the growing list of demands, Astrid's face blanched with each item. By the time he reached the end, she looked as pale as the rising moon.

With a quiet chuckle, Stoick firmly clapped his hand to the woman's arm. "Glad to have you home", he said with genuine warmth.

As the chief slowly ambled back towards the Great Hall, Astrid stayed in place. Arms wrapped tightly around herself, she rubbed her hands against the pebbled skin of her arms. Finally alone, she looked out into the darkening sea, her gaze falling to the northwestern sky. With a sigh she stared straight at the horizon, as though she could somehow will herself to see miles and miles away.

"Missed a spot."

On her hands and knees as she vigorously scrubbed the stable floor, Astrid lifted her chin to glare at Snotlout through a part in her fallen bangs.

The young man sat perched on top of a barrel, slumped forward with his head lazily resting in his hand. His bored expression shifted to confusion as he registered the woman's glower. "Just trying to help", he claimed with a shrug.

"It wasn't helpful the first nine times", Astrid grumbled as she resumed running a coarse brush over the stone floor. "Why would this time be any different?"

Snotlout frowned tightly. "Hey, don't pin that all on me!" he defended, "I've only said it four times!"

"Five times", Fishlegs interjected flatly from across the room, arms pulled into his chest as he kept his gaze locked on a small book in his hands. "Ruffnut is at three, and Tuffnut at two."

Ruffnut perked up slightly at the mention of her name, looking up at the young men while sitting cross-legged on the floor. She scratched at Barf's face as he laid his head at her side.

Meanwhile, Tuffnut lounged against Belch's neck as he picked at something wedged between his own teeth. "Eh", he grunted at Fishlegs with passive acknowledgement, "but, hey, who's counting?"

At this his sister's brow crumpled as she shot Tuffnut an irritated stare. "Uh, he is", Ruffnut noted incredulously as she pointed toward Fishlegs. "He literally just counted, idiot."

Examining a wad of gunk he pulled from his mouth, Tuffnut rolled his eye with exasperation before returning and irked glance. "And I said that figuratively, Ruffnut."

The surprisingly heated tone of their voices led Fishlegs to look up from the book, and he shifted his gaze between both twins with concern. "Guys, it's okay", he soothed.

"No, it's not okay!" Ruffnut argued, holding her glare on her brother. "Why do you always have to get the last word in, even if it's just to say something stupid?"

Snotlout groaned with a shake of his head. "Aaaand here we go..."

Tuffnut turned to his side to scowl at Ruffnut. "Because I'm always thinking", he testily explained as he tapped his finger to his temple. "And everything I think has to come out of my mouth! You know this!"

As the sibling's tempers flared, their dragon's heads began to turn on each other as well. Belch bore his teeth and growled, emitting a series of small sparks. In response, Barf snarled defensively while exhaling thin wisps of gas.

Astrid's nostrils flared as she detected the familiar scent. Realizing how close they were to triggering an explosion, she jumped up to her feet in a panic. "Whoa! Whoa! Stop!" she ordered as she stepped in-between the feuding Thorstons.

Snotlout and Fishlegs quickly took notice as well, and each hurriedly approached one the dragon's two heads, struggling to pull them apart.

The intervention was enough to distract the Zippleback, and the twins were forced to acknowledge Astrid as she stood in their line of sight.

Still feeling the rush of adrenaline, Astrid was ready to lash out at them for their carelessness. But as she stared critically at each of them, she couldn't ignore their ashen complexions, and how exhausted they looked. As with all Berkians, their resilience was beginning to wear thin and it was becoming incredibly easy to trigger a fight.

Astrid's cheeks puffed out before she released a deep exhale. "Please, knock it off", she sighed wearily, crossing her arms as she loosely held the wet brush in one hand. "You're not mad at each other - you're just hungry. And tired."

The twins cast her a doubtful glance, but then warily met the other's gaze. Though still sore at the other, neither seemed to feel the same intensity as before.

Relaxing her own posture, Astrid took a small step back so that they had a clear view of each other.

The siblings stared uncomfortably at one another. Biting the edge of her lip, Ruffnut cracked her knuckles as she sighed. "S'rry", she finally mumbled, looking up at Tuffnut with embarrassment.

Tuffnut scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah", he muttered weakly. "Me too." He then gave his sister a small smile. "We good?"

Ruffnut's mouth quirked into an impish smile. "Duh."

And with that, the tension in the room quickly dissipated. Even the Zippleback visibly relaxed, no longer holding their necks at a rigid angle but resuming their usual slacked appearance. Fishlegs smiled with relief as he carefully released his grip on Barf's neck, while Snotlout briskly pulled his hands away from Belch's horns.

Glad to have that situation diffused, Astrid stifled a yawn as she dropped back to her knees, returning her focus to agitating a stubborn stain of what she prayed was dried fish blood. The others continued to quietly chat, but she actively ignored them in the interest of completing her chore as quickly as possible.

Since Stoick had assigned her punishment, she wasted no time in starting to chip away at the oppressive list of tasks. As much as she hated it, she knew she would have no chance of even discussing another trip off the island until she paid the price.

Scrubbing the stables was the first one to tackle because it was the one she dreaded the most. After years of inconsistent maintenance as certain members of the team always conveniently forgot to cover their shifts, the task was as daunting as it was disgusting. To add insult to injury, the three who regularly shirked their duties suddenly found time to idly watch and provide commentary as she cleaned.

Fishlegs arrived shortly after and had attempted to help, but was shooed away by Gobber per the chief's orders. So the young man stood nearby, providing conversation to distract from the menial work as he thumbed through one of Hiccup's old journals - the last one he wrote detailing his observations of the mysterious Night Fury.

With each turn of the page Fishlegs would audibly comment under his breath, with the occasional gasp or 'ooooh' in intrigue.

Hearing his excited chatter, Ruffnut arched an eyebrow as she observed him. "So is there anything actually interesting in there, or are you just geeking out over nothing again?"

Chuckling at Ruffnut's question, Fishlegs grinned as he eagerly tapped the open page with his index finger. "Oh, this is far from nothing, I assure you. If Hiccup's measurements are correct - and I have no reason to doubt them - then a Night Fury's wingspan is proportionally longer than any known species of dragon! Couple that with thinner tapered spines, and an aerodynamic build, it's no wonder we've never seen them before!"

As enthusiastic as Fishlegs was, Ruffnut's expression held equal disinterest. "Oh. Soooo, nothing?" she concluded with a flat shrug. "Got it."

Fishlegs smile loosened to a disappointed frown. "You've seen the most legendary dragon in our history - one that even Bork himself could never find - and that was nothing?"

"No, that was awesome", Tuffnut corrected as his sister begrudgingly nodded in agreement. "But who cares how big his mighty, majestic wings were? It's useless info, dude."

Fishlegs balked, offended. "It's really not", he insisted, frustrated with his team's lack of interest. "If we can understand more about Toothless, and Night Furies in general, we may be able to find others." Pulling his lips to the side in thought, Fishlegs turned a page. "Though", he admitted, "it is strange that we haven't seen any others in all this time. I'm honestly starting to wonder if there even are any left."

A harsh scoff sounded from across the room. "Yeah? Well, good riddance..." Snotlout muttered darkly.

Astrid paused at the sound of his voice, surprised to hear his commentary. Snotlout rarely spoke of that day on Dragon Island, and whenever it was brought up, he usually found an excuse to leave the room. But today he showed no sign of budging from his seat.

"Last thing we need is more of those evil bastards swooping down around here", he continued with a sneer.

The remark made Astrid tense, and she tightened her grip on the brush. "He's not evil", she asserted as she resumed her scrubbing. "I'm sure he thought he was protecting him." Realizing that she may have sounded suspiciously assured, she made a point to shrugged dismissively. "Or, something."

Holding his gaze on Astrid, Snotlout scoffed before looking away. "Yeah, some protector", he grumbled. "Takes the guy's leg and then drags him off to finish the job."

Astrid's brow furrowed in annoyance. She opened her mouth to argue but Ruffnut jumped in first.

"That's not what happened", Ruffnut growled at Snotlout. "Stop acting like you know anything!"

Snotlout met her glare with his own. "Well I know what I saw", he shot back, growing more terse. "The stupid demon carried him off like a sheep! Or a yak. Or anything else it's stolen over the years!"

As the two held each other in fierce glares, Fishlegs looked on, lips pursed in contemplation. "I don't know...it just doesn't make sense", he mused quietly. "Toothless fought the Red Death for us! H-Hiccup wouldn't have survived the fall without him; so why save him just to hurt him?"

The room was silent, no one knowing how to answer. Even Snotlout broke his combative stare, instead crossing his arms defensively as he glared down at the ground.

Fishlegs glanced back at the journal as he shook his head. "We don't know hardly anything about Night Furies...m-maybe that's just how they react when another is dying? Maybe he knew Hiccup was..." He then looked over at Astrid, suddenly self-conscious of the topic.

There it was; the piteous look that always made Astrid uncomfortable. "You can say it, Fishlegs", she sighed. "He was dying." And she wasn't lying; he really was. Despite knowing that Hiccup somehow survived, it still stung to even say the words outloud.

Snotlout replied with a harsh, derisive laugh. "Yeah, the beast made sure of that", he muttered bitterly.

Balling up her fists, Ruffnut swung her head to glower venomously at Snotlout. "Shut! Up!"

The man's mouth hung open, appalled. "It killed my cousin!" Snotlout spat as he stood from the barrel to fully face her. "Forgive me for not being a fan!"

Jaw clenched, Ruffnut quickly scrambled to her feet as she held Snotlout in a disgusted glare. "Whatever...I'm outta here", she announced through her teeth. She then looked back to the others, making a point to ignore Snotlout. "Later", she muttered.

Everyone watched the furious woman as she passed Snotlout, sticking out her elbow and shoving him roughly in the side before exiting the room.

While Snotlout rubbed his offended gut, Tuffnut whistled lowly. "Well. That was...something."

Shaking his head, Snotlout looked to Tuffnut. "Your sister's nuts", he grumbled.

Though he nodded slightly, Tuffnut looked towards the stable door with a sympathetic stare. "Yeah", he drawled as he scratched at his chest. "Ever since Mom...well, y'know...she gets weird about death and stuff now."

The mention of Gunnvor Thorston brought a frown to Astrid's lips, taking her back to that tragic morning. Although she had been a housewife who was one of many villagers who perished during that deadly raid, she was regarded as one of the day's most courageous heroes. A collapsing retaining wall nearly crushed a small band on warriors - Ruffnut was among them. But her life was spared when she was forcibly pushed out of a boulder's path by her mother's hands. Gunnvor died a savior, but Ruffnut had understandably never been quite the same since.

A reflective silence hung in the air. With that Tuffnut shrugged and patted his hand against Belch's neck. "Guess we better turn in", he sighed as he gave a quick wave over his shoulder to the group. "See ya tomorrow."

Everyone muttered their goodbyes as Tuffnut and the Zippleback left the room.

Fishlegs exhaled as he closed Hiccup's journal. "I'd better get home too", he noted quietly with a tilt of his head towards the door.

With a brisk nod, Astrid turned her head slightly to offer a small smile. "Night", she called back before quickly resuming her scrubbing.

The padding of Fishlegs boots faded away, leaving her alone with Stormfly and Snotlout. The latter stood by quietly, only watching her as she worked.

Several minutes passed in silence and Astrid moved to the next section of the stable in need of a deep cleaning. After dunking the brush in a bucket of crisp seawater, she noticed that Snotlout shifted to stand closer to her.

"You're not leaving again", he finally stated.

The decisiveness of his words surprised her. He wasn't usually so brazen as to start making demands, least of all to her. "I am", Astrid replied, keeping her face down to avoid any slips. "At some point."

Watching the woman carefully, Snotlout subtly ran his hand over the spot Ruffnut struck. "He's gone", he muttered. "You know that, right?"

Exhaling deeply, Astrid shifted to sit on her folded legs, looking up at him with tired eyes. As much as she wanted to inform him otherwise, she was yet again trapped into silence. "What do you want, Snot?"

The young man shifted uncomfortably under her stare. "I don't..." he sighed, crossing his arms as he frowned. "I just don't like you leaving all the time. And why? Because you think Hiccup could still be alive?" He looked down at Astrid, expecting an answer. When he received only silence, he shrugged. "It's getting weird", he added bluntly, "and you're gonna get yourself killed."

The slight dig at her sanity momentarily raised her ire. While Astrid knew everyone questioned her seemingly blind insistence that Hiccup could have survived his dire injuries, Snotlout had always been her most vocal critic. For nearly a year after the battle she barely spoke to him; too insecure in her own doubts to be able to handle the added weight of his judgement. As time passed and she settled into her new-found role as a member of the Haddock clan, she was forced to have more frequent contact with her new family's kin. It was, to say the least, uneasy for a time. But with the hardships that Berk faced, those who survived became more enmeshed and relied on one another for survival. And as a fellow warrior with a surprising amount of insight on the tribe's inner-workings, Snotlout became an unlikely ally to her. She knew he still disapproved of her spontaneous outings, but he usually made a point to hold his tongue out of respect.

Looking up at the young man's face, she considered an audacious option. Snotlout was capable of keeping a secret - assuming he somehow benefited from it. It was tempting to consider the possibility of having someone on her side, especially when that someone could potentially sway the council in her favor. Despite the fact that he wasn't specifically held in the highest regard, his family name was. And that may be enough to get her the clearance she needed.

It was extremely risky, and in the moment she felt too exhausted to consider every potential consequence. But that didn't mean she couldn't explore whether he may be sympathetic to her cause.

"I don't know what's out there", she finally admitted, offering a one-shouldered shrug. "Maybe he is out there; maybe not. Maybe there's food, or medicine, or better weapons that could get us through another year." She looked up at Snotlout pointedly. "Whether its Hiccup, or food, or anything else - how can I not look for anything that could help Berk?"

Snotlout watched her carefully. Astrid expected him to jump straight into a debate, but was surprised when he instead pondered her words. "Maybe...", he murmured dubiously.

The edge of Astrid's lip quirked, sensing an in. "Aren't you even a little curious about what's off this island?"

The question caught Snotlout off-guard, causing him to raise his brows in surprise. Blinking long eyelashes, he pursed his lips in thought. "Yeah", he admitted with a apathetic shrug. His expression then grew troubled. "But so was Hiccup...and look where that got him."

Astrid readjusted to settle on her hip, taking some strain off of her fatigued legs. Hearing the young man's uncertainty forced her to hold back a disappointed sigh. She used to always be able to count on Snotlout to follow along on any adventure. While she appreciated that he had matured some over the years, she wished it hadn't been at the expense of his grit and mettle.

"Well", she reasoned, "maybe he knew it was worth the risk." Noticing the doubt in Snotlout's stare, she tilted her chin up confidently. "I'll bet if he were here, he'd want us to do the same."

Arching one eyebrow, Snotlout huffed without humor. "Yeah, well, it's not like we can ask him, can we?" With that he began to turn towards the stable door.

Astrid frowned. "Snot..."

He froze mid-step in response to her call. Letting his shoulders fall, Snotlout turned to give her an imploring glance. "...I can't stop you from doing something stupid", he sighed, defeated. "Just, please, be careful."

Though offended at his lack of faith, Astrid reluctantly softened at his sincerity. "Always am", she assured.

Snotlout rolled his eyes slightly, forcing a weak smile. "Yeah, sure...", he murmured. Giving her a final contemplative glance, he offered a brisk nod. "'Night, then."

Watching him slowly turn and trudge towards the exit, Astrid shifted back to rest on her knees. "Night", she echoed quietly.

And with that, she and Stormfly were alone. The Nadder yawned in exhaustion, prompting Astrid to smile gratefully at her loyal friend. "Almost done, girl", she promised. "Not too much longer."

Stormfly grumbled in disbelief, shaking her head from side to side before resting her beak to her chest. Her golden eyes grew distant and glazed as her fatigue set in, and she soon nodded off, leaving Astrid with nothing to distract herself from her uncertain thoughts.

She tried to focus on the rhythmic friction of the brush bristles against the ground, occasionally falling into an almost meditative state. But every time her knuckle scraped against stone or she felt a twinge in her back, she was pulled back to reality and forced to acknowledge her present situation.

For the good or the bad, she was home. Life there was difficult, but it was a daily challenge that she was well-accustomed to. She knew every trail on the island; each rock or tree she passed. She knew that when the Terrible Terrors crowed from the roof that the first rays of the sun could be seen. There was a consistency and predictability that a fundamental part of her found comforting. That security had been rocked since the "death" of their tribe's heir and nearly destroyed with the loss of her father and many others at the hands of the Outcasts. But her tribe sustained and carried on, giving her the strength to do the same. She had friends and a patchwork family that she had built over time. They needed her and, as much as she prided her independence, she could admit that she needed them too.

But it wasn't all she needed. When she repeatedly set-out on unreasonable missions to find Hiccup, she recognized that she was gambling something tangible for what was - at best - an improbable fantasy. Whether it was for closure, a thirst for answers, or to validate her own outrageous hope, she was driven by something she didn't entirely understand. While she stubbornly clung to forced optimism that he could still be out there, Astrid was also open to broader discovery. Her time away from Berk was a much needed respite from their harsh realities, and if she couldn't find Hiccup, she prayed she could at least return with something that could pull their village from the brink of collapse.

The night she woke up in Hiccup's hut, she was certain it was an apparition. Perhaps a dream; maybe an illusion brought on by dehydration. She even considered for a moment that she had slipped from the mortal realm and found herself in an afterlife of her own creation. But she quickly realized that that couldn't be, as the person before her exceeded the paper-thin image she held in her mind. The boy she set out to find was a simplified caricature; the man she discovered was far more real and complex. He was flawed and imperfect; broken in a way that made him even more human than what she had envisioned.

Now having found him, and admittedly still fully absorbing who exactly he was, that growing need became even more intense. Upon the fragile framework of affection that she had built on faded memories and artifacts from his past, a genuine connection had formed - one unlike she had ever experienced before. Having to sunder that bind, even temporarily, was more difficult than she had expected. Then again, she didn't allow herself to believe that he would let her return to their flailing homeland alone. As weak as it made her feel, she wished she could have persuaded him to grasp just how much she needed him to be there - for Stoick. For Berk. And yes, for her.

There was a lot Astrid felt she needed in that moment. Nearly all of it was unobtainable. Wiping the back of her damp hand against strained eyes, she slowly accepted that the only need that she had any hope of sating that evening was sleep.

It was just before dawn when Astrid finally stumbled into the Haddock's hall. Desperate to remove the layer of grime that covered her after mucking the stables, she hurriedly dunked herself into the ocean's frigid waters before she dared set foot in the house. Freezing but at least no longer steeped in filth, she bid Stormfly goodnight and quickly entered the dark hall.

A low fire burned in the pit, providing nearly enough light to see where she stepped. Astrid nearly passed the kitchen before detecting the faintest scent of food. The smell barely entered her nostrils before she began to salivate. Stomach growling, she ventured closer, excited to find a plate waiting for her at the table. A few thin slices of yak and boiled potato was a meager offering, but she eagerly accepted it knowing it was likely more than the chief ate that night.

Taking a chunk of potato between her fingers and popping it in her mouth, Astrid grasped the plate and quietly walked through the house. Stoick's steady snores filled the space, and she carefully tiptoed past his door to the stairs leading to her room. Their room.

Her hand slowly guided the door close, keeping it from slamming shut. The moonlight shone through the window and exaggerated every angle of the room. Taking small, fluid steps, Astrid carefully took in the subtle details of the simple setting. She had been in that space everyday for two years; knew every divot in the walls and knot in the floor. But looking around, it somehow didn't feel the same as it had only days before.

Despite knowing the boy (to some degree) her entire life, she had never actually seen Hiccup in his home. Over the years she found herself occasionally looking around and wondering what his day-to-day life must have been like when he lived in that room. Had he been an early riser or a night owl? Did he spend a lot of time at his desk, or do most of his work from his cramped space in the forge? Even as she laid awake at night, she would wonder if he slept on his side the way she did, and if the bed's uneven pallet used to make him toss and turn.

There were a few books scattered about the room the day Astrid first moved in. A few looked as though they had been halfheartedly stacked by Hiccup's father after his disappearance; the fact that a couple still sat undisturbed made her wonder if the bereaved man had simply abandoned the task mid-way. It took her several days before she felt comfortable enough to collect them all and place them neatly on the shelf, though she made a point to keep the earmarked pages intact. Her first winter in the home brought a week of heavy snow that prevented anyone from venturing outside. Trapped and unspeakably bored, she had thumbed through each book several times, paying especially close attention to the pages with the corners folded in. In truth, she struggled to follow some of the books as they exceeded her reading level. Though she was fairly literate, her drive to learn how to read was largely focused on the runes that allowed her to read the Book of Dragons and little more. And what she did understand, she found to be quite dull. But she spent many idle hours trying to figure out what would have peaked Hiccup's interest. These sorts of little mind games helped to numb the moments of loneliness that seeped in from time to time, and kept her from having to fully mourn the loss of someone she almost knew.

But now, Astrid could look around without feeling like a trespasser in someone else's life. She knew him; really knew him. Hiccup would sleep late into the day if allowed, and he spent almost every waking minute in the forest or working in the forge. He slept on his back, no matter the terrain, and once asleep, he barely moved a muscle all night. She knew he was endlessly fascinated by a variety of things and absorbed every book he could get his hands on. While he stubbornly avoided speaking to live people, his travels lead him to various artifacts and tomes that introduced him to novelties far beyond anything she had personally experienced. His inquisitive mind was no longer limited to the pages of the few books he was able to access on Berk - it was a small wonder how much more appealing that must have been for him than a modest little room on an isolated island.

As she balanced her plate in one hand, she used the other to tug at her tunic as the fabric uncomfortably bunched against her damp skin. Smoothing the material down, her fingertips brushed against the top of one of the metal skulls lining her skirt. The action jogged her memory, and she carefully dug her thumb under the plating to retrieve the chunk of sunstone Hiccup had given her. Smiling fondly at the translucent rock, Astrid lifted it up to one of her eyes - closing the other so that she could peer through it.

Carefully placing the plate on her lap, Astrid continued to look around the room, but this time through the unusual perspective of the sunstone. While the moonlight wasn't quite bright enough to reveal vibrant details, the faint ghost of a reflection that carried through created an otherworldly effect. Mesmerized, Astrid slowly moved the stone as she observed the resulting image. She then pulled the sunstone away from her eye, and absorbed just how plain her familiar surroundings seemed in comparison.

Every piece of furniture stood in the same position it had been in the day she moved in. She had been encouraged to make changes; to customize the room to her own needs. But the wistful glance that Stoick gave every time he poked his head in prevented her from doing anything that ever made the room seem like it wasn't Hiccup's anymore. After all, she reasoned, he would return one day, and he deserved to have a piece of his former life still intact when he did.

Now she knew that he could indeed return. He just simply chose not to.

Astrid swallowed thickly; partly due to the dry meat but mostly to force down the growing lump that formed in her throat. Her emotions always ran hot and cold, and this had been an extraordinarily disorienting experience. On the one hand, she was elated, and vindicated, because he was alive. But the incredible relief she felt was tainted by the fact that the only major barrier remaining was his own refusal to return. And while she now knew for certain that we was alive, she also was acutely aware of the dangerous conditions he chose to live under. It was a comfort that Toothless would always be loyally at his side, but she still worried about the many hazards that came from living in the elements. Dying from starvation, dehydration, exposure, or infection was not an unusual fate for those who chose a nomadic lifestyle, especially without the support of their tribe. Add in the fact that the young man was Hel-bent on making reckless decisions each day, and Astrid had more than enough reason to worry.

Despite her anxious, Astrid's weary body couldn't muster the energy to stay awake any longer. Taking the last bite of her meal, she placed the plate aside and walked to the dresser to find something clean and warm to wear to bed. The first thing she saw was the old bearskin cloak unceremoniously shoved into the corner. She couldn't help but smile and wondered whether she should follow-through with Hiccup's wish to destroy the hated cape.

Groping around the dresser, her fingers brushed a familiar and thickly knit fabric. A sharp tug pulled the green tunic from the drawer and she held it between her fingers for a moment. The wool was heavier than what she wore and worked well on colder days. Not to mention the tactile memory brought a much-needed comfort.

Placing the tunic on the side of the bed, she undressed and quickly pulled the garment over her head. The wood creaked as Astrid sat on the bed and shifted her weight to pull off her boots before settling down to her side. Her hand lazily groped behind her until she clutched the woolen blanket and pulled it tightly over her frame.

As she tried to drift to sleep, exhausted from her journey, Astrid couldn't manage to get comfortable. The uncomfortable pallet beneath her felt especially unbearable after knowing the feeling of sleeping on soft cushions. But worse was the emptiness of the bed - something that felt so normal only a week earlier suddenly felt foreign. Wrong.

Desperate to fall asleep, she shifted to her back, then to her other side. Unsatisfied, she finally grabbed the pillow from beneath her head, rolling it and placing it alongside her. Arms wrapped around it, she laid the side of her face on the cushion as she curled her knees in. It wasn't warm, and it didn't rise and fall with human breath. There was no deep reverberation against her ear from speech or laughter. It wasn't right. But it would do, for now.

The initial elation from the discovery that Hiccup's heart still beat was rapidly tempered by the realization of how grave his injury was.

The grown-ups debated about what to do. Some felt it would be safest to get him on one of the surviving ships; worth the slower trip. The teens repeatedly suggested taking him by dragon-back, arguing that it was the only expedient method. But the adults were wary of placing their fragile heir on the back of a dragon, with only another fifteen-year-old to secure him for the long ride.

Disagreement soon became arguing, and then passionate fighting. Sitting on the rocky shores of Dragon Island, Astrid looked down at Hiccup's deathly pale face, his features slack in an unnatural way. Her eyes timidly wandered down to his legs. No, she reminded herself: leg. While the wool tunic wrapped tightly around the remnants of his spindly limb shielded the gut-wrenching injury, the dark crimson blood that seeped through the fabric was enough to remove any illusion of hope. He was dying.

Her fingers twisted together nervously in her lap. A low groan prompted her to look up into large, half-lidded green eyes that locked onto Hiccup's prone form. Toothless lay several feet away, grunting and whining as he tried to snake closer to the boy. But three men carefully held the dragon in place while Gobber tended to the broken contraption on the Night Fury's tail. The old Viking swore and muttered, scratching his head as he tried to identify the shattered pieces that had welded together within the Red Death's flame.

As Toothless became more agitated, eyes darting between the screaming men and Hiccup, Astrid noticed the pupils of his eyes thinning. His whimpers turned to grunts, and his chest heaved as his breathing quickened.

There was something feral about him that immediately put Astrid on edge. It was too close to the untamed demon of lightning and death that she saw when she first laid eyes on him. "Toothless…" she warned, swallowing her own fear as she reached across to plant her hand on the other side of Hiccup so that she stretched over the boy protectively.

With the yelling behind her, Astrid barely heard the sound of Toothless' prosthetic snapping open, or Gobber's surprised shout. The next thing she knew, Toothless leapt forward, pouncing on top of them. Astrid expected to be tossed aside and threw herself over Hiccup, ready to roll away with the him. But when she attempted to jerk away, she realized that they were caught in the dragon's grip as he wrapped his legs around both of them.

With a quick snarl at the startled adults, Toothless flapped his wings and began to lift off the ground.

Feeling the firm earth disappear beneath her, Astrid began to kick wildly. "Toothless!" she shouted in dismay, smacking the side of the Night Fury with her open palm. "No! Please!", she begged, watching in horror as Hiccup's head tilted back. "Put us down!"

But her pleas were unheard - or perhaps unacknowledged. The Night Fury didn't launch straight up, instead wobbling side to side as he struggled to gain altitude. They were still several feet above the ground, with Astrid desperately trying to pull Hiccup's limp body from the dragon's grip before they were too high up to risk it. With a final tug she flew out of the Night Fury's grip, feeling Hiccup slip between her fingers as she fell towards the ground.

The wind was knocked out of her as she landed on her back, graying her vision for a moment. Taking a gasping breath to refill her lungs, she twist to her side, overcome by the ache of her spine. As she heard the sound of shouts and heavy footfalls approaching, she could only stare up in shock as she watched Toothless disappear into the grey horizon with Hiccup still in his grasp.

Fresh tears filled her eyes, and her gulping breath mixed with choked sobs. She barely noticed when her father gingerly hooked his arms underneath her, bringing her to his chest.

"Go after them!" she heard Stoick desperately cry.

There was a sickening silence, with only a few coughs and mumbling. "S-sir?" she heard Fishlegs squeak, his voice trembling. "With all due respect...i-it's a Night Fury."

Pressing her face into her father's fur vest, Astrid tried to focus on the soft tickling of the hair against her nose rather than the chief's unintelligible protests interspersed among broken prayers to the gods.

An unbalanced gait approached, and Astrid clenched her fists. She knew it was coming; the voice of reason that she didn't want to hear. Squeezing her eyes painfully tight, she tried to drown out Gobber's shuddered voice.

"Stoick. He's gone."

More than a week had passed since Astrid's sudden late return to Berk. Stoick sat at his kitchen table, a pile of scrolls to his right with one rolled out in front of him. With a hand absently stroking his beard in thought, his eyes narrowed in scrutiny, occasionally pausing to mark the parchment with a worn charcoal pen.

The hall door opened and shut, and the chief didn't bother looking up as the village blacksmith wandered into his kitchen before approaching the table.

"So tell me, ol' friend", Gobber started pleasantly, placing a low tankard of ale before the chief. "Is your eyesight startin' to go or has age finally softened your mind?"

Stoick raised a graying brow, his thick red mustache emphasizing a frown as he gave a muted glare. With a deep sigh, he gazed back down at his work. "I'd ask what you're going on about", he grumbled, "but you're going to tell me anyway, so just spit it out."

Taking a swig of his own tankard before roughly dropping it to the table, Gobber grunted as he settled down into a chair. "What's wit' keeping the lass tied to the island?"

The chief barely reacted, only shrugged without pausing or looking up from the table. "I just don't think it's healthy for her to spend her time flying off to gods-know-where."

"But it's her time to spend", Gobber argued, tapping the tabletop with his hook. "She tends to the academy, manages the dragons, helps you whenever you ask…"

Finally looking away from the scroll, Stoick tilted his head to cast a weary stare. "That's just it. She's a young woman now, and she still insists on using her rare free time on a hopeless cause." Shaking his head, the chieftain gave a sad smile. "Believe me, I'm touched that my Hiccup left such an impact on her - there were many days I worried that no one would take the time to see what a special lad he really was. But not only is Hiccup...gone, she's letting her life fade away as well. She needs to find her own way an' live the life she's blessed to have."

Leaning his head back as he rolled his eyes upward, Gobber bent forward to lock gazes with his friend. "Open your eyes, man. What do you think she's doin'?"

The blacksmith's exasperated tone caught Stoick's attention, and he blinked rapidly as he stared at Gobber in confusion.

With an impatient scoff, Gobber shook his head. "Gone fer days at a time", he noted. "Comes back late an' disheveled with a cockamamie story about Dragon Hunters. Don't get me wrong, the lass is fierce, but you know the Hunter type...they're ruthless an' will do anything to make a profit. There's no way she could have fought off a ship of 'em, even with her Nadder."

Stoick looked down in thought, humming in acknowledgement of the other man's skepticism. He began to wonder if there was a telltale waver to Astrid's voice when she told of her narrow escape, or if these fresh suspicions only tampered his memory.

"An'", Gobber added, "she swings back an' forth between melancholy an' smiling like I haven't seen in years. Maybe ever." With both elbows on the table, Gobber leaned forward to stare intently at Stoick. "Did you know that Snotlout an' Hookfang almost caught the Academy on fire, again, an' she laughed about it?"

Stoick raised his brow in surprise.

"Yeah", Gobber echoed with a nod. "Mark my words", he declared, pointing his hook at Stoick, "there's a boy involved."

Pulling his lips to the side in doubt, Stoick scratched at his chin. "Well, if that were true, why wouldn't she tell me?"

"She's married to your son", Gobber reasoned. "Honestly, you think Astrid, a girl who concerns herself with honor, is going to waltz up to her husband's father to say she's carrying on with another man?" He took a heavy gulp of ale, then loosely gestured with the tankard in hand. "Maybe bring it up casually over a nice roast mutton at the dinner table?"

Stoick sighed deeply. "I suppose not", he rumbled, looking down at the table as he carefully considered the possibility.

"I mean, maybe she'd drop a hint after the second round of drinks", Gobber added, looking into his cup as he swirled its contents. "Likely cider since it pairs so nicely with mutton..."

"Yes, I am his father", Stoick murmured to himself, ignoring Gobber, "but I just hoped she could talk to me as a daughter."

Meanwhile, a soft smile graced Gobber's lips as he looked off dreamily. "Especially if the roast had those nice little potatoes that Mrs. Ack tosses in sometimes-"

Stoick's head then snapped up, leveling a stern frown. "Gobber, focus."

"Right", Gobber said sheepishly, clearing his throat. "Sorry."

The irritation on Stoick's face faded, replaced with a shamed frown. "I...it's no secret. I have a lot of regrets where Hiccup is concerned. This has been something of a second chance for me." He huffed quietly, actively steadying his voice. "Knowing now how taken he was with her, it's easy to forget and imagine that they really could have married, given the chance." He sighed, massaging his heavy brow. With a sad shake of his head, Stoick met his friend's stare. "I really did want Hiccup to be happy, Gobber. An' I want her to be happy."

Giving a sympathetic frown, Gobber placed his elbow on the table as he leaned forward. "An' you're keeping her away from that. She may bend the rules at times, but she'd never disobey you outright."

Pausing for a moment, Stoick finally nodded, leaning back into his chair. "Aye", he agreed with an exhale, "she isn't Hiccup."

Lifting his mug in agreement, Gobber tipped his head back and downed the last gulp of brew.

"An' I suppose I do worry about what will happen to her later in life", Stoick acknowledged. "I'm not getting any younger, an' when my time comes, I don't want her to be alone."

Offering a bob of his head in accord, Gobber wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he carefully examined the chieftain. "With your stress an' temper, I give it three years", the blacksmith guessed casually. "Tops."

At this, Stoick scowled at his friend in offense.

Unfazed, Gobber quirked an eyebrow. "Two if you keep glarin' like that", he warned.

With another sigh, the chief shook his head. "Alright...", he relented. "I'll talk to her tonight at dinner."

Gobber smiled, pleased. "Great!" he exclaimed, using the table as leverage to push himself up to his feet. "You find the girl, an' I'll look into that roast."

She expected to find a note waiting for her when she finally returned to the sunstone island. Maybe even a map. An excited Night Fury was a surprise, but a very welcomed one.

As Stormfly touched down, Astrid beamed at the sight of the onyx dragon happily bounding towards them. The Nadder responded with a high trill, then bounced her head and chittered as Toothless skid to a stop in front of her. The Night Fury warbled loudly, shaking his head side-to-side as Stormfly threw her head back in a joyous squawk.

Still perched in her saddle, Astrid smiled as she scanned the area, knowing that Toothless' rider couldn't be far behind. Sure enough, her gaze fell on Hiccup's lanky form as he slowly ambled towards her. Though when she met his gaze, it didn't reflect the same excitement in hers.

Arms crossed tightly over his chest, Hiccup looked up at her, frowning. Almost angry. "You lied", he called out bluntly.

Taken aback, Astrid found herself balanced between worry and righteous indignation. "What?"

But then she saw it; the slightest twist of his lips. With a quick sweep of his hand he motioned towards his hair. "You said you'd be back before those stupid braids fell out", he reminded accusingly. "That was four days ago."

Seeing through his facade, Astrid tried not to let her relief show as she returned an apathetic shrug. "Well, then you must have been doing something foolish and reckless", she retorted coolly as she slid off her saddle.

Hiccup was smirking now, tilting his head up confidently. "Or your braiding sucks."

With her feet back on the ground, Astrid looked up and scoffed in offense. "My braiding can stand up to wars and months at sea. If yours couldn't make it through two weeks, that's on you."

The pair held their defiant stares, willing the other to crack first. Though both struggled to keep a straight face, neither fully broke character.

Their standoff was temporarily derailed when a rough nudge to Astrid's side prompted her to look down just in time to see Toothless shove his face into her hand. Smiling, she ran her palms over the dragon's face. "I'm surprised you're here", she noted to Hiccup, casting a glance his way. "I thought you guys were going to move."

Nodding his head, Hiccup prodded the dirt with his prosthetic. "Eh, we were", he admitted, quickly glancing out at the sea. He then smiled towards Toothless, who's tongue happily draped out of the corner of his mouth. "But, we talked it over and decided we'd rather stay."

With a final pat to the dragon's jaw, Astrid placed her hands on her hips and scanned their surroundings. As far as she could tell, everything looked exactly the same as when she left - no sign of shelter, defenses, or anything that she would consider essential. "I like what you've done with the place", she quipped, sending Hiccup a playful smirk.

The young man scoffed, placing his hand to his chest. "Uh, excuse me?" he replied with mock offense that contrasted his smile. "I have been extremely busy."

A puff of air blew through wind-chapped lips as Astrid arched an eyebrow. "With what?" she challenged.

Without a word, Hiccup used his hands to dramatically motion down his body, drawing her attention to the armor he wore.

With a slight tilt to her head, Astrid's brow knit as she assessed his clothing. What at first appeared to be nearly identical to what he wore before, she realized that the leather appeared more sturdy. Taking several steps towards him, she curiously reached out to take the material between her fingertips. Pressed to resemble the texture of dragon scales, the panels were well-stitched and seemed like they would provide better protection against a blade. With a quiet hum, she noticed a few more additions, including two black belts fastened around his torso and leather gauntlets that covered most of his forearms. [3] Besides being impressed with the apparent craftsmanship, she was also relieved to see him finally wearing something more fit for battle.

Astrid looked up to meet Hiccup's proud gaze, watching as he raised his brow. The cocky smile he gave only prompted her to have a little more fun at his expense. "So, I leave you alone for a few weeks and you fill your days by making outfits?" she questioned with a smirk, pulling her hand back to rest on her hip. "Interesting."

Hiccup chuckled, rolling his eyes up. "Yeah, yeah...But this", he noted with a grin, "this is no ordinary outfit."

Intrigued by the cryptic pitch, Astrid watched with veiled interest as he slid his wrists down his hips. With a flourish Hiccup lifted his arms, revealing a webbed wing-like fabric that spanned the length of his arms and down his sides. [4]

The woman reared her head back in surprise as she stared at the unexpected contraption. Blinking several times, Astrid sucked in her trembling lips and bit down. Soon air began to sputter from her mouth and her face crumpled as she dissolved into a fit of laughter.

Lowering his arms, Hiccup gave the woman a disapproving frown. "Oh c'mon!" he lightly chastised, looking down at the subject of his ridicule. "It's not that funny."

Clasping her hand to her mouth, Astrid's eyes watered as she tried to regain her composure. "N-no...no", she agreed, unconvincingly. "N-nothing funny about a grown man w-walking around with fake..." She wasn't able to finish speaking as her shoulders began to quake and her lips were practically white from tightly clenching them together.

Hiccup rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smirking. "You done?"

Taking a deep inhale, Astrid held her breath. With cheeks slightly puffed, she nodded slowly though the ends of her lips crept upward. Slowly releasing the air, she brought her hand back to her mouth to shield her quivering lips. "Y-you're not actually going to *snort* fly with those things? Are you?"

Raising his arms again to inspect the webbing, Hiccup then glanced back at Astrid with a raised eyebrow. "Why else would I make them?"

The woman moved her arms to cross over her chest, slowly looking back down at the wings. The sight only pulled her lips to a tight smile that she kept fighting back. "On the plus side", Astrid quipped, having to pause to bite her lip again, "whatever random sailor finds your bloated corpse floating in the ocean is...*snort*...going to have quite a story to tell."

Shoulders slumped, Hiccup raised one brow critically. "Glad to know you're past obsessing with my impending death and have moved on to laughing about it", he muttered sardonically while shooting her an amused glare.

Astrid cleared her throat, finally regaining control of her voice. "Oh, no", she assured with a playful smile. "I'm completely horrified. Once I get over how silly you look I promise I'll be right back to nagging."

At this Hiccup chuckled, lowering his arms to collapse his wings. "Then the world as I know it is restored", he teased.

Astrid snickered, then turned around to untie some of her supplies from Stormfly's saddle. After unfastening a burlap sack and swinging over her shoulder, Hiccup tilted his head in interest.

"What's that?" he asked, thrusting his chin towards the sack.

Looking over shoulder to track his gaze, Astrid's face lit up. "I come bearing gifts!" she announced with excitement.

She sat down on the ground, placing the sack in her lap and giddily untying the cord that secured its opening.

Hiccup watched intently, smirking at her enthusiasm as he sat in front of her.

With the cord unraveled, Astrid reached into the bag. One at a time, she pulled out an item and placed it on the grass between them.

"Soap", she noted with a smile as she set the object down. She then presented the next item: "a comb." Finally, she placed the third item, looking back up to meet Hiccup's gaze. "And scissors."

Holding back a laugh, Hiccup smiled and nodded emphatically. "Yes, that is what they're called", Hiccup congratulated her, reaching over to pat the back of her hand as though talking to a small child. "Good job, Astrid!"

His mockery did nothing to dull the bright smile the woman held as she looked at him eagerly.

Seeing that Astrid's mood didn't sway, Hiccup grew strangely unsettled. His cheeks began to hurt from holding his exaggerated grin. "Sooo...why are we smiling?" he asked with forced levity.

Slowly, almost painfully so, Astrid leaned forward so that her face was only inches from his. "Because", she informed him brightly, "I'm going to cut your hair."

Hiccup's thick eyebrows jumped, eyes widening as his smile melted instantly. "Ooooh, no", he protested as he leaned back. "No, no, no..."

His refusal didn't diminish Astrid's excitement; if anything her smile grew. "Ooooh, yes I am", she insisted.

Scrambling to his feet, Hiccup took a step back as he pointed at her accusingly. "I tolerated the braids", he reminded her, "but I draw the line here."

Astrid stuck out her lower lip, frowning up at him. "Hiccup", she argued, "it's a tangled mess in the back!" She grasped the items in both hands before pushing herself up to standing. "Come on."

Hiccup shook his head. "No", he repeated firmly.

Astrid took a step towards him, tone growing more serious. "Hiccup-"

The young man didn't bother to hear her plea as he slowly side stepped away. "Nope."

Blowing upward in exasperation, Astrid rolled her eyes. "Oh, right. Wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of the dragons", she sassed, waving her hand towards the curious Night Fury and Nadder who watched with intrigue. "They know so much about hair!"

A hand hovered over his head protectively as Hiccup took another step back. "It's not happening, Astrid."

With a frustrated groan, Astrid crossed her arms as she looked him up and down. When Hiccup showed no sign of wavering, she sighed and shrugged in forfeit. "Fine."

The sudden concession caused Hiccup's eyes to narrow. "Fine?" he repeated slowly, disbelieving. "Just like that?"

Looking down at a chipped nail on the hand that grasped the soap, Astrid stuck her lower lip out. "Can't make you", she concluded flatly.

Hiccup's posture relaxed slightly, but he still watched the blonde warily. "Okay...", he drawled, giving her one last suspicious glance. When Astrid didn't move, only looked up at him expectantly, he released a tense breath. "Good."

Holding each other's gaze, Astrid tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, still obviously disappointed.

Hiccup returned an apologetic smile as he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by his reaction. "Uh, a-anyway", he stuttered. "I'll show you where we're camping."

When Astrid didn't respond he slowly turned around, hoping she would follow him. But he only got in three steps before a sudden weight bore down on his back. Hiccup's knees locked, and he looked down to see two legs wrapped tightly around his waist. "Seriously!?"

Leaning forward to balance herself, Astrid rested an elbow on the young man's back. "It's for your own good, Hiccup", she replied easily, quickly taking the comb to his hair.

With an annoyed grunt, Hiccup looped his arms around her legs, trying to redistribute the added weight. "How are you this heavy?!" he groaned in surprise.

Unmoved by his theatrics, Astrid focused on an especially matted section of hair. "If you had just cooperated", she sighed, "we wouldn't be doing this."

Hiccup turned, exaggerating the amount of effort it took to walk. "Bones made of solid steel…"

Grasping the comb in her teeth, Astrid pulled it out to glare down at him. "Hey!" she admonished, "we don't all have hollow bird bones."

He leaned forward, finally having adjusted to an angle where he could comfortably carry her. "I'd make you a flight suit", he muttered, "but I'd just be sending you to your death."

Astrid shrugged as she tried to work through the knotted ends of his hair. "Just as well", she retorted. "I refuse to die looking so stupid."

Pouncing on top of a rock to get a better view rock, Toothless warbled with amusement at the peculiar sight.

Hiccup shot the dragon a nasty look. "Yeah, laugh now, you stupid reptile! When she eventually moves on to you, and wants to put bows or bells on your head, I'm not going to stop her!"

Wrinkling her nose, Astrid gripped his shoulder and leaned forward to attempt eye contact. "That would be dumb. Why would you pull bells on something that's supposed to be stealthy?" She sat back up and continued her work. "And there's no strategic advantage to having bows on a dragon."

Hiccup's mouth hung upon, face screwed in confusion. "So what's the strategic advantage to cutting my hair?!"

He felt her shrug. "There isn't one", she admitted shamelessly.

Tilting his head back, Hiccup frowned deeply, hoping she could see it. "Then why are you doing this to me?"

Lips pulled back in thought, Astrid carefully considered her answer. "It'll make me happy?"

The scowl on Hiccup's face suddenly loosed and his brow knit. After several more steps he slowed his pace, finally coming to a complete stop. With a deep sigh, he looked over his shoulder. "Alright", he muttered in defeat.

Astrid looked down at him, surprised. "Really?"

He nodded. "Just...do it."

With a satisfied smile, Astrid hopped off his back to the ground. Looking him over once more, she held out the bar of soap. "Wash first?"

Eyes narrowing, Hiccup glared at the soap in her hand before begrudgingly taking it. "I'm going to save myself half a day and just say "Fine"."

When Hiccup returned from the stream, shirtless with wet hair plastered to his head, Astrid wasn't surprised to see his petulant expression. But as he approached, dramatically trudging towards her, she was surprised to see a lattice of textured scars traveling up his body. She had seen burn marks before; even had a few small patches of her own. But this was far more extensive. Most had faded to white; barely visible against his pale skin. But several cords were still fiery red and as raw looking as the day they formed.

She didn't know why the sight had startled her. She'd seen how intense the Red Death's flame had been, and knew that Toothless couldn't have possibly shielded him from it all. Still, it was hard to logically reconcile that the seemingly confident young man before her was the same fragile boy who never should have survived that awful day.

Realizing that she was staring, Astrid dropped her gaze to the scissors in her hand, pretending to inspect the blade. She only looked back up when the tops of Hiccup's boot was in her periphery.

If Hiccup had noticed her reaction, he didn't show any sign. Arms crossed, he looked down at her expectantly, and Astrid gestured to the ground in front of her.

With a heavy sigh, Hiccup plopped down with his back to her. "Let's get this over with", he grumbled.

"Don't be so surly", Astrid softly chided, taking the comb into her other hand. She offered an encouraging smile. "I do good work. Your dad let's me cut his hair."

Hiccup huffed. "And I'm sure he looks beautiful."

Astrid's eyes narrowed. "I have scissors", she reminded him, pointing the sharp tip towards the young man for emphasis.

Holding his hands up in surrender, Hiccup then rested his elbows against his thighs and tipped his head forward slightly. Within seconds Astrid's hands were in his hair, and he felt the comb rake through it in short bursts. He cringed whenever a knot would catch in the teeth, and tightened his jaw with every tug at his scalp.

Other than an occasional groan from the irritated customer, the pair was silent as Astrid worked. It wasn't until Hiccup heard the sound of the scissors cutting through hair that he finally spoke up. "So, is this phase one or two of marriage?" he asked cheekily. "Taking a perfectly good man and molding him into your twisted image?"

Lips parted in concentration, Astrid carefully slid the blade to thin a clump of matted hair. "It's not to change you", she simply replied.

Hiccup's head bobbed as he gave a derisive laugh. "Riiiight", he drawled.

Frowning at the unexpected movement, Astrid used two of her fingers to apply enough pressure to remind Hiccup to hold still. "Trust me", she assured, "if I wanted to change you, there are, like, fifty other things I would focus on first."

Hiccup smirked under the curtain of wet hair. "Aha!" he breathed triumphantly. "So there is a list."

Using the end of the comb to work through the last remnants of a knot, Astrid frowned as she brushed the hair back and away from his face. "I didn't change you. You changed you."

The young man's brow furrowed in confusion. "Huh?"

After running her fingers through smooth strands of hair, Astrid moved to kneel right in front of Hiccup, keeping her eyes locked on his unruly bangs.

His gaze shifted between her face and where she placed her hands, trying to figure out just how concerned he should be as the occasionally clump of freshly cut hair fell past his eyes.

Astrid didn't speak at first, too focused on taking a layer of hair between her fingers and fanning the strands. Bringing the scissors to the edges, to used the tips to make small, precise cuts. "Did you know you used to be the cleanest boy on Berk?"

Hiccup's brow knit, unsure of where she was going.

"Most of the older men are fairly clean, but the teens?" Astrid stuck her tongue out in disgust. "Ugh. You were the only one who didn't stink all the time. Your hair was always combed, you bathed regularly, and you kept your clothes clean."

Thinking back, Hiccup conceded that he had always been unusually mindful about his hygiene growing up. And how strange if felt to know that Astrid Hofferson had taken notice. But most Vikings took some pride in their appearance; so what was her point? "It really doesn't take a lot of effort to smell better than Snotlout or Tuffnut", he noted.

"Well", Astrid replied airily, "now you would fit right in with them."

This made Hiccup grimace, wondering if his self-care truly had faltered to such a degree.

Sweeping her eyes down to meet his gaze, Astrid returned her attention to his hair, raking her fingers through his bangs. "It's hard to keep your hair combed when it's this tangled, and it's just going to get worse." Hiccup didn't miss the little crease that formed between her eyebrows when she was worried. "Living out here, you're more likely to get lice, and they'll hide in this ratted hair. You'll thank me when you're not having to shave it all off because you're itching and miserable."

Hiccup's features relaxed. "So...", he droned sheepishly. "This really isn't a looks thing."

Astrid shook her head as she sat back. "More of a health thing." Looking over her work, she finally gave a satisfied nod. "There", she announced with a smile, handing Hiccup the comb. "You can still grow it out if you want, but it shouldn't knot again if you keep it brushed."

The man's hand tentatively raised to his temple, running his hand through his hair. The strands were longer than he feared, and as far as he could tell, no patches of bare scalp. And he had to admit, he forgot how nice it felt to feel well-groomed. Looking at Astrid, he gave a genuine smile. "Thank you."

She smiled back, then looked down shyly for a moment. In an instant she leaned in, giving him a quick peck on the lips before slowly putting her arms around his neck. "I missed you", she whispered as she rested her head on his shoulder.

Eyes wide, Hiccup blinked in surprise. But he didn't hesitate to close his arms around her. "I missed you too", he admitted, pulling his lips back into a dazed smile.

The pair stayed still for a moment, relishing their reunion. It wasn't until Stormfly gave an impatient squawk that Astrid pulled back. "So, what do you want to do?" she asked with a bright smile.

Humming in thought, Hiccup glanced over at Toothless before looking back at Astrid. "Have you eaten?"

The woman shook her head.

Hiccup grinned. "Alright", he grunted as he pushed himself up to stand. "Food first and we'll go from there."

Quickly getting to her feet, Astrid bent down to brush the dirt from her knees. "Ooh, I wonder what we're having", she teased as she stepped towards him.

"I don't know", Hiccup said with a mock shrug, putting an arm around her shoulder as they fell into step. He pointed at Toothless as the dragon bounded ahead of them. "It's Chef's Choice so we'll have to see what he prepares."

Astrid wrinkled her nose. "I'm not eating regurgitated salmon", she retorted.

Hiccup looked down at her as he shook his head in disapproval. "It's never wise to insult the Chef's cooking", he warned.

Rolling her eyes, Astrid leaned in slightly to lazily rest against Hiccup's side. "What's he going to do, spit in it?"

[1] Old Norse for Saturday; the weekly "washing day".

[2] Saxes are short, one-sided swords from the early Viking era.

[3] Some of the basic component's of Hiccup's armor in HTTYD 2.

[4] Similar to Dragon Fly 2 from RTTE.