A/N: Hi! So, this new story- something new I'm trying out- is based off of something written by Debbie L.Don't look her up, she's not on Fanfiction . net! She's on a site called BonanzaLegacy, in the Bonanza fandom- yup, I'm not just in the HTTYD fandom *wink*-, and I loved the story so much that I had to make a HTTYD version of it for you wonderful people! Sadly, she's no longer around, so I couldn't ask her for permission to post this. But I still give her full credit for the idea, so no plagiarism here. :P

Also, this is sort of a What-If or a What-Happens-Next for Defenders of the Wing, Pt 2. It's literally set after the first episode of season four. And it's from Astrid's POV, if anyone was confused from the summary! XD Enjoy, guys!

CHAPTER ONE

I have always underestimated Hiccup.

Of course I'd never admit that to anyone, least of all to him.

We indulged Hiccup, each of us, in our own way. He and Fishlegs would often excite over a new dragon species or dragon eye lense. Snotlout and him would often quarrel, but made up in the end with a simple handshake or a pat on the back. Tuffnut always had a prank or ridiculous scheme up his sleeve for Hiccup, whereas Ruffnut would have to get him out of it or make it even worse. Stoick guided him steadily throughout the years, often knowing just the right thing to say or do for his son. He wasn't the most gentle of fathers, but he showed his love in more ways than I can count.

I took a different tacit with Hiccup, and looking back, I don't know if it was a wise one. I could always see a trail of recklessness ahead of him, and I didn't know if I'd ever be able to catch up before it was too late.

I know Hiccup thought that I didn't take him seriously most of the time, that I considered him nothing more than a desperate leader with desperate plans. Ironically enough, nothing could have been further than the truth.

I always took Hiccup seriously, far more seriously than he will ever know. There are some things that are better left unsaid at the end of the day, and this was certainly one of them. Often, it's easier to laugh away a fear than it is to face a hard truth.

I'm looking hard at that truth right now, and I hope it's not too late.

I've always been afraid that Hiccup would die at the hands of an enemy. It's a bitter realization that I might be proved right. But how could I ever have been more wrong? Now I would give anything... anything for Hiccup to have made the wrong choice, for him to have done the wrong thing, for him to not be lying unconscious in his cot at the Edge at this very moment.

Stoick sits beside me in a chair next to Hiccup's bed. His back is bowed and trembling, almost as if he were cold. But I know better. It's been an exhausting day, and we still have a long ways more before we get back to Berk. It didn't help that his only son was dying, either.

I look over my shoulder, away from Hiccup's loft for just a moment, and can see his face, ghostly in the moonlight and drugged into a dreamless sleep. His ruined body is hidden with the layers and layers of blankets we so carefully tucked around him.

My vision's surreal. He looks so peaceful that I can almost believe he's just asleep. Hiccup could sleep anywhere, that's what we always told him. He could fall asleep riding Toothless at full speed if he tried to.

I shake my head. It's been a long time since I had more than an hour of sleep, and it's starting to show.

The other riders are beside us, faces dreary, and they look back at Hiccup's pale form on the bed too. I know that Fishlegs is fretting that I've noticed something he hasn't. He looks at me, with something like panic lighting on his face, but I shake my head slowly, and he looks away.

Nothing at all has changed. We're still together, a family, taking on a fool's mission once more. None of us have a right to be planning on traveling the rest of the night to Berk in the bitter cold, but we are... for a single, solitary reason.

Hiccup told us he wanted to die at home.

Two Days Earlier

The message had arrived from the Defenders, only five days after the rest of the riders and I returned to the Edge after fighting off the lava. Heather had gone to visit Berserk. Hiccup had stayed behind with the Defenders, to oversee their reconstruction.

Throk had brought the news himself from his island, sailing tirelessly and endlessly for over two days, and he looked like an apparition by the time he finally reached the Edge where Fishlegs and I were chatting by the docks.

"Dragon Riders," Throk panted at us as he unboarded his ship, and shook the crumpled piece of paper in his fist. "Go get the rest of you. Now!"

"Is it Hiccup?" Fishlegs asked immediately, nervousness clear in his tone.

But Fishlegs and I really didn't need an answer. Throk wouldn't look either of us in the eye. Of course it had to be Hiccup. I knew immediately that any news of his had to be from his island, and if it came from that island... it had to be bad news.

None of us wanted to leave him in that village, alone. After we had rescued the Eruptadon and took care of the exploding volcanoes of both the Defenders' and the Edge, there was still much destruction in their village that needed to be cleared.

Predictably, Mala convinced Hiccup that he could help with the task. Hiccup, tired and older than I had ever seen him before, agreed, and told us all that he considered it a responsibility to stay until the job was finished.

I remember clearly how I retorted, "Hiccup, in a village of this size, they can fix it up by themselves easily."

Hiccup had looked at me with such a pointed expression, it made the breath stick in my throat, and then he said with a small smile, "It is our fault for all the destruction that was caused, Astrid. Besides, what can happen in a little island like theirs? Nothing. I'll be fine."

I began to protest, before I caught myself on Hiccup's impish grin. All of us laughed then, together. Of course, we all wanted to stay with him, keep an eye on things, under the guise of lending a helpful hand. But soon, I was persuaded otherwise. Hiccup had every right to stay behind, and we had neglected our duties at the Edge long enough. An island that size wouldn't run itself.

"Throk, I asked you if it was Hiccup," Fishlegs said again.

His voice broke into my thoughts. I could hear the old hint of panic in his voice. It was the same voice I had heard over the years, every time someone even took a notion to harming Hiccup.

"Please, just bring the others," Throk repeated, less forcefully than before. He wiped the sweat and grime off his face with the back of his hand, and looked at us at last. There was no mistaking the pity in his eyes. I think that pity startled me more than Throk's wild sailing had. With that, I broke out of my reverie and ran to get the others.

The next hour brought images that that would forever remain marked in my mind: The shocked expression on Snotlout's face, when I literally ran into him as he, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut headed out of the clubhouse to see what Throk wanted. My whisper of "Hiccup!" as I clenched the unfolded message in my hand, sagging against Fishlegs as if suddenly an old maid.

The grim movements of preparing for a hard flight. The things we carried. Bedrolls, blankets, canteens. A medicine kit, loaded with labeled jars of herbs. Saddles adjusted and tightened, dragons watered and fed. All the tasks that need to be taken care of before we could breach the many miles that separated us from Hiccup.

I don't think we spoke a word to each other until we were very close to the Defenders. This, in itself, wasn't unusual. We all were fairly quiet- save for Snotlout, most of the time-, when left to ourselves. It never took more than a look or a shrug to communicate much of what needed to be said. Hiccup was the one who kept us all talking, and bound together as one.

Hiccup. The thought put an ache in my heart.

As I edged on Stormfly, it occurred to me that I'd never hear the end of it if Hiccup knew I'd give about anything to hear him tell me one of his corny jokes again. And I would. But of course, he didn't need to know that.

"Astrid," Snotlout spoke at last. His voice, unused for so long, stuck like grit in the back of his throat. "We have to face the truth. We might already be too late."

"Snotlout!" Ruffnut yelled, and I saw both anger and worry flaring in her wide eyes. "Don't say that. Hiccup's going to be fine."

"Indeed, sister!" Tuffnut cheered.

"It's all right, Ruff," I said softly, and then I turned to face Snotlout. To my surprise, I wasn't angry. Just weak. "Snotlout, I know what you're trying to say, and I appreciate it. But you know how Hiccup hates to be alone, especially when he's injured or sick. I'd guess he's waiting for us right now." I nodded. "Let's go."

I turned Stormfly sharply down to the village. As we flew, the trees grew denser, and the ground sandier and less fertile. No birds sang. Not another sound was emitted besides the gentle fluttering of our dragons' wings. I grimaced. Who would build a village on such a Thor-forsaken island?

Off against a nearby hill, I could see several buzzards and a single wild dragon finishing off a carcass, unrecognizable already in its state of decay. More buzzards circled overhead, obviously waiting for their fair share of the prize.

Death was all around us, on the way to our dying leader.