A/N: This was probably one of the best movies I have ever seen in my life. And after not shutting up about it the whole day, I decided to write this.

Astrid had every reason to despise this boy.

He couldn't defend himself and didn't even know how to wield something as simple as a shield in his hands; he was a reckless and stupid mess in the arena. Gods know, he would get them all killed if it weren't for the—ah, careful—supervision of their training sessions. And even though Hiccup was the son of the biggest, most respected Viking in the village, it didn't give him any reason to act so superior amongst all the rest of…

Okay, maybe that last part was a bit exaggerated, but she needed a fuel to ignite the irritation towards him. The boy was always off Odin-knows-where after training and didn't come back until late at night. What was that idiot doing all the time anyway? Did he leave to do some extra training? Well, it didn't show if he did, and, if anything, he needed it—badly.

Anyway, what did she care if Hiccup was effortlessly victorious in the arena all of a sudden? She was completely bewildered by the mere fact; things like that didn't just "happen" to weaklings like Hiccup. His small figure wouldn't last one second in real combat, and, not to mention, his socialization skills weren't exactly up to par either. But apparently, no one seemed to keep reality in perspective when he started becoming the crowd favorite, the title she always won. Who was he to start getting to every dragon before she did? Who was he to just shrug off his popularity in the village? And who was he to even dare toy with her pride? Astrid relied on her strength and intimidation; fighting was all she knew, what she was most confident in. She knew herself and knew what she wanted, but all it took was one boy—good gods, a boy like Hiccup—to take that away from her.

It was pure jealousy, and Astrid knew and was not ashamed of it. In fact, she was determined to avenge her pride and make Hiccup pay for the moment of weakness she felt on his behalf. Only, she didn't expect to stumble upon his secret pet and take an exhilarating flight on it. To her discontent, the encounter further allowed her jealousy to reach a deeper level.

Yes, Hiccup was still the same, awkward boy. But Astrid couldn't help but develop a new sense of wonder for him—it was the way he was so comfortable with the creature, the certainty of the distinct maneuvers of his hands and feet that connected them in flight, the love and compassion he felt for the dragon. She was mesmerized by the way he handled the Night Fury, as if he had been around one his whole life. It was a gift he was born with, a gift Astrid believed no one else could have ever possessed.

And she hated him for it. She hated that it came so naturally to him when she had to train and consistently train to improve her skills. She hated that it went against every fiber of his being to kill a dragon, even if it meant saving his own skin. And she especially hated the fact that he also effortlessly made her vulnerable when she tried so hard to keep her guard up around him. Because even the Vikings knew the old adage, "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

She just didn't know which one he was yet.