A/N: This part is Rated M for risque content and mature themes, just so you kids out there know and don't feel comfortable with that stuff, turn back.

The morning birds were chattering and Tuff opened a grumpy eye, still seeing he was not where he was supposed to be. He had a hangover, not his first and far from his last.

There was a warm female body huddled against his, which wasn't unusual but upon memories of the night before he sat up with a start, causing her body to shift off of his. He cringed at the ache in his head and held it for a moment as he looked to her.

The female at his side was still a womanly version of Harkin—messy morning hair and all—tangled from sleeping and that look was the scruffy remnant of the Harkin he was used to seeing. Still, she was something much more different now that he took time to notice and when he wasn't completely intoxicated, she was something else—something desirable even.

The morning sun had spilled through the one window of the structure onto her form, drenching her in pure sunlight and for a moment it really did seem there wasn't a star in Valhalla that could have been as bright.

His eyes dragged across her body, causing that usual feeling of want to rise within him when he saw such a form but this time it was fighting hard with his conscience—something that had taken a long rest since his days in Berk.

He noticed she had his necklace. It hung around her neck and the pendant set on her chest. He had given it to her before he left, telling her he'd come back and get it. She didn't believe him at the time—that he would actually leave. It couldn't be helped though, at that time he needed to escape Berk.

He touched the Nadderhead tooth, reminded of his Father for that was who had given him the necklace in the first place. Ruff had a matching one. He liked the way it looked on Harkin, but not that piece of hair—it looked bothersome.

He hesitated but brushed the hair out of her eye again and the movement caused it to slowly flutter open and glance around before landing on him sitting there next to her.

She gave a small smile and it was surprisingly refreshing to see on her face, "Good morning."

"Good morning," he nodded in return, feeling awkward just because she was Harkin—the first girl he'd ever laid with and refrained from touching.

She rolled to her back, scooted backwards until she was upward and stretched her arms. To more of his surprise her stretch turned into her leaning forward to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him. It was a quick kiss and then followed by another longer one.

He certainly enjoyed it but mumbled something and broke it by pulling away, "What are you doing Harkin?"

"Showing you my affection," she replied . Obviously.

"You can't! You just can't do this."

"But—"

"No," he sternly denied her while uncovering himself and set his feet on the cold floor.

He thought her a silly girl to be so taken with him. He had to go, she wasn't in the right mind and he knew he wasn't a good guy for her. She deserved far better. He found his boots on the floor beside the bed—no—it was a mattress—and lifted one to put it on.

"Don't leave."

That phrase was absolutely haunting. It caused him to stop his movement.

It trapped him.

He remembered it spoken so long ago in a plea as she played anchor on his waist, trying for all the word to stay with him. He looked over his shoulder at Harkin, wrapped in her sheets and giving him a heartbroken doe-eyed look that was completely impossible to refuse.

Her hand found his and she held it, whispering "Please don't leave me alone again."

Alone. There was that word again, just as depressing and ten times the heartbreak when she said it. He began to understand she only wanted him there because she had no one else.

"Just stay with me. Please."

"Have you even been with a man before?" he demanded to know, assuming her intentions were for him to stay and be with her as she had kissed him more than once and had even let the skins of their body's touch.

Not that he'd oblige her, he already felt wrong enough just staying the night with her. Why? He had never had reservations about being with females in his life.

Harkin's eyes darted to the side nervously but he didn't know to make that out as a yes or no. She removed herself, suddenly seeming embarrassed or upset but hadn't meant to offend her.

"I have."

"Who?" Tuff growled, the thought of anyone touching her in such a way enraged him, despite her being grown enough to consent to such activity.

"A visiting man—only was ashore small time. I didn't love him," she said quietly.

"Then why would you—?"

"He made me."

He was taken aback, like a painful stab to his insides at comprehending her words, "You were pillaged?"

Harkin winced at the word, possibly the memory—seeming ashamed, and rolled over—curling herself into a ball.

His anger was sparked. That was something Tuff looked down upon severely, in all his travels—all his women were consenting and even if he was aching for the touch of a lady he would have never made them do anything they weren't comfortable with. That aspect of his being was developed because he had grown up most of his life around nothing but women. There was a clear way for men to treat them, and a way not to treat them.

"He talked nice to me but then turned out not so nice. I fought him hard but even the best fight moves can't disarm such a beast and you—you didn't know what it was like," he could hear the edge of tears in her voice. "I had nothing after my mom died—I just didn't want to be alone anymore."

"Did you tell anyone?"

"No. I was too ashamed. I managed to shank him across the cheek though when he was near done, he hit me so hard I blacked out and then I never saw him after that. He followed me from the tavern, I must have given him the idea—and I was easy prey." Harkin's voice had hardened but was filled with melancholy and even more so when she added, "He never even kissed me."

Tuffnut suddenly felt an overwhelming disgust with himself at his thoughts from the previous night of wanting to take her and comparing her to prey.

No, he wasn't good for her at all.

"Cringe found me and kept me warm until I woke up—she keeps me out of danger now if any man should follow me with the same intentions."

He finally understood that Cringe was the Nadder who had peeked through the window. Even scrutinizing Tuffnut as well as it should have. The dragon had come too late though for her.

His anger surged further within him at the nameless bastard that had taken Harkin and stolen her girlhood—had used violence on her, had tricked her. He felt a fierce urge to hunt the wretch down and tear out his throat. His knuckles had dug into the covers and tensed, "How long ago did this happen?"

"Nearly two years, it was after that winter of despair when I was on my own, alone."

Alone, probably the saddest word in Tuff's vocabulary.

So, Fifteen. When she was just Fifteen years old she had already faced such hardships and horrors He took it back—he had thought Berk would have been safer for her—Berk hadn't been safe. The once safe little village was now susceptible to untrustworthy strangers from the seas since it had become a better known place of interest.

"Could none of your friends help you?" He was still just so frustrated that such a thing had happened to her, knowing that if he had stayed he could have prevented it in some way.

"They did not have enough room or money for charity."

"What about my mother? Did you ask my mother if you could have lived with her?"

There was quiet.

He knew this mother would never turn away an orphaned girl and his lodge had an extra room since his departure.

"I stopped speaking to her when we thought you died. I couldn't even bring myself to look at your old lodge without wanting to cry."

So she really did feel something for him.

He reached to her, curling his arms around her to bring her closer. He didn't want to isolate her or to cause her any sort of sadness. He just wanted her to smile again.

He was angered that the village could do nothing for Hoark's daughter as they all watched helplessly as she spiraled downward into the harshest cracks of life, if they even cared to notice.

Please smile Harkin, he willed as he looked upon her, recalling the biggest smile she had ever worn was when he let her ride on the right head of the Zippleback that summer of fervor so long ago and they went racing across the skyline of trees above the cliffs. She had been so exhilarated and her eyes were wide and wet from the wind tearing at them.

She was rigid now and her gaze was staring away from him, bravely trying to hold back her sorrow as she relived her terrible memories. But at some point the wall had broken and he saw a tear slip out.

He wasn't experienced in consoling people. He wasn't experienced in dealing with those soft kinds of emotions but seeing her tears had caused an unprecedented reaction to kick into him.

"Don't cry," he demanded and then kissed her on the cheek where the wet trail had settled. The gesture caused her gaze to turn on him. He kissed her again, this time closer to her lips.

"Don't cry," it was now more of a plea murmured against her skin. She still didn't speak. He felt that if he couldn't make her smile, he would never be happy with himself again. He nuzzled his nose into her neck and closed his eyes, inhaled. She smelled like pinewood and berries. Then after a long exhale and with all the sincerity in him, "I'm here. I'm not leaving, and I'm not gonna let anything ever hurt you again."

She turned her head as he issued another kiss but her lips caught into his and they shared a calm, caring greeting of lips. He took his kiss to be a binding promise to her. No girl had ever broken into his emotions like that. He knew he'd never felt so strongly about any girl in his twenty two years of life.

"Do you want to take me, Tuffnut?" she asked and for some reason the question paired with his name sent chills up his arms, because he actually, for once did not. He just wanted her to smile.

"It's okay," she insisted at his apprehensive expression, and reached behind her and unclasped the ties that held the wraps together, exposing her youthful breasts. He stared at her, seeing her in a way he'd never imagined her. She grabbed his wrist and guided it so it set on her chest, over the area her heart lied under the skin, "You're the only one I trust."

He was honored but she was still naïve, she of all people shouldn't have confused intimacy with actual love. The act could happen any time and the little he did know of supposed love was that it took a long time to find.

And she shouldn't have let him touch her because the lust was just painful to keep in now that he was aroused. Her skin where he touched was soft and delightful. Still he kept it under control, telling himself he wasn't going to take her. He didn't want her like he had wanted other females. He chose them based on aesthetics, went from there and sometimes even not—they were a means to satisfy his ends and vise versa. If he ever did have more than a feeling it quickly waned due to the next woman—there always seemed to be something better.

He looked at Harkin, waiting—wide eyed and so damn beautiful and it struck him when he knew he couldn't want anything more than her because for once there was nothing that seemed better. He closed his eyes, his thoughts screaming for him to contain himself, to keep it under control. His fingertips, however began exploring the skin she was holding his hand against.

He couldn't take it any longer, he grabbed her and planted a kiss on those full, tempting lips, still caressing that delicate, rosy skin of her chest. She broke the kiss and her breaths were shallow already, still overeager and excited but in a much different way from her adolescence. She crawled out of his grasp, across his lap and was suddenly on her hands an knees presenting herself to him. All he had to do was slip off that bottom under-layer and she would be his.

But he didn't; he stared for a moment then understood that the callous bastard must have taken her roughly in the most primitive and inhuman position to cause her to think it was the only way to please him.

"Not like this," Tuff swallowed his urges, displeased. Harkin's eyes widened in worry and embarrassment. She quickly pulled her legs in front of her and curled her knees to her chest, "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," he moved away from her, "No, none of it is your fault."

He sat quietly for a moment, considering everything, "Why do you love me?"

He knew he was good, but not good enough for her and it bothered him that she had so freely announced it when he was still struggling with all that it encompassed.

She really didn't even think about it, just scooted closer to his side and reached to his face, removing a strand of his own hair that had stuck to the side of his face—"You're the only one who could make me happy after my dad died and you also let me around you when none of the older kids would, and you taught me how to hunt and wrestle. I felt special when I was with you and still four years later no matter if I thought you dead or look at you now I still get that warm feeling about you. That's why I know I love you."

She pecked him on the cheek and sighed, reaching down to his lap and he felt her small hand brush against him; his physical yearning hadn't wilted as quickly as he hoped "and you do want me, so what is the matter?"

His answer came in a small moan, "This is all wrong."

"Is it because I'm so much younger?"

That fact didn't bother him. Many men took wives that were years younger than them. She was only five years his junior, technically an adult of society just like he. If they still raided, she would be able to join.

"No, it's because you think that because you love me, you must offer yourself—you don't."

He suddenly realized he had, a moment ago, thought the word 'wives' like as in 'wife' but plural. His mind had unknowingly entered into a whole new realm of thought, thoughts he'd never considered before.

He glanced down to her, searching over her. Her expression of hope, perhaps the first time it had graced her face since age thirteen. He lifted the Nadder tooth pendant from where it laid in the valley of her breasts. He had told her that his father had given it to him and always made him feel better after his father was gone. He hoped it would make her feel better when he was gone. Maybe it had, because she still wore it even know, she really did love him. He wouldn't have let anyone else have it either.

His hand dropped the tooth and cupped her cheek, while moving a piece of her hair from her eye—that one bothersome piece of hair. One more kiss to be for sure of this growing idea in his head. He did it gently—feeling the need to make her happy, to protect her, to satisfy her all in one thought.

Yes, he could commit and wanted to commit himself to her. This feeling, this one inside him he held for Harkin was finally nameable.

"Harkin,"

She raised her brows in a look of wonder.

"I really love you."

Because it did exist, and he felt it.

And riding a Zippleback across the skyline didn't compare to her reaction—a wonderful mix of a wide smile below lifted cheekbones and a reignited brightness to those turquoise eyes. It was pure happiness, and he had made it for her and he felt himself smiling just as wide.

He had looked deep within to find that his care for the girl had transformed into more. She was so damn special to him and he had never considered the fact she would grow into a woman to love like a man could—and yet now he couldn't even fathom loving another more. His love didn't end there though.

"I wanna marry you too," he added quietly, a bit timid even to be voicing something so emotionally exposed. It seemed a little soon, and he feared she might reject the offer. She had no fathers or brothers to ask permission so it was all her decision. Though the development was a hasty to the outside world—to him it had seemed like he had waited forever to find this absolute feeling of a missing piece of something he had always needed. Maybe she needed it too and that's why she was perfect for him.

He wanted her to be comfortable, settled and not constantly struggling for wages. Most of all, he wanted her all to himself, to not be alone and he didn't care if she had no assets—he had enough for them both through his travels. He didn't want anyone else to lay a finger on her ever again, and even though she had her dragon to do that job he would make sure it stayed that way as well.

He was met with waves of joyful kisses from his brow to his shoulders which he took as her agreement. He felt himself laugh with a wash of relief flooding over him. He seized her and pulled her down to him, not to take her—no—he just wanted what he felt the night before with that comfort of her in his arms, fading into her. His feeling toward Harkin was an overwhelming pressure of happy in his chest that felt like it could burst at any moment but that wasn't love.

Harkin was love.

Harkin was the one he had always been waiting for but hadn't seen. It took four years, many dangers, and countless miles and hours of absence to realize it. But she was worth it. He would strive to be worthy of her.

The best part was that to have each other, they would never again be alone.

HTTYD (c) of Dreamworks/Cressida Cowell