This began with the first grade teacher in me coming right out, but I think it gets a little sweeter as it goes on. Consider it a celebration of Hiccup the Seasick Viking mixed with actual movie fanfiction.

Long ago, in a fierce and frosty land, a Viking named Hiccup had a very big problem. Having finally reached a point where he did not expect that he would have any problems especially those of such a simple nature this problem affected him more than it should have. Yet the problem existed, there was no denying that. It had existed for years, years Hiccup had spent avoiding the problem and pretending it did not exist, that he had even conquered it.

No such luck. To his great disappointment the problem still afflicted him. Oh, he was a tribal hero. He flew dragons to daring heights. He had the affection of a beautiful girl.

But he realized, as he forced himself along the dock, such things would never make up for the terror that rose inside him every time he came near a longship. Or a fishing boat.

Or a rowboat.

Hiccup wasn't entirely comfortable with the notion of going offshore for a back float.

Ages seemed to have passed before he found himself at the edge of the lowest dock. Mere feet beneath him was the water, lapping peacefully around the posts, glinting like fire in the summer sun. He had nothing against water. It kept the island secure, it provided for a bodily need, it kept even the smelliest Vikings from being too smelly.

It just wasn't the water's fault that even at this age he still became…

Seasick.

It was a total embarrassment. He had told no one of this, not even Astrid. Probably because Astrid would only roll her eyes and shove him into the ocean when his guard was down. Nope, he would not be expecting any sympathy from her anytime soon.

He had been so sure he had conquered it during early childhood. Such recovery was only expected when one's father was constantly dragging him aboard ships during manic storms and boasting about how Vikings never got seasick—though enough years growing up in Berk had well-proved his theory that even the strongest constitutions were prone to flaws if the sea rocked enough. Even watching the waves made Hiccup rather nauseated, truth be told.

But he should have been over it. Had he not taken over the wheel at the tender age of five to guide a ship to safety during a storm that still was whispered of in lore? Had he not single-handedly defeated an enormous dragon of death? He flew Toothless everyday. If flight did not make him sick, what power could the ocean have over his stomach.

The rowboat was the safest and sturdiest in the village, wide of hull, good and deep. And it was new. Of that he was pretty sure. At least it didn't look like it had smashed against too many rocks.

Hiccup took a deep breath and tried to recall everything he had ever been taught about boats. Then he lowered himself into rowboat, good foot first, hand tight on the wale. The boat did not rock much to his eternal thanks. He sat down quickly and released his breath. Okay. So good so far, though he did glance up to make sure no one was watching him.

He released the mooring.

The boat lurched.

Hiccup was thrown from his seat. His chin hit the bottom and sharp pain shot through it, but that was far from being his greatest concern.

His stomach had lurched even more than the boat. He slowly rose to his knees, both hands clenched tightly around his middle. If he could see his face, he knew it would be green. He closed his eyes and silently recited what he had learned all those years ago. Sometimes Vikings were seasick. Sometimes Vikings were seasick.

They totally were. He had been in a boat for all of thirty seconds and he already knew the chicken Astrid had cooked for him was not going to stay down. Not that it would have stayed down anyway.

No. He was not going to get sick. Never.

Oh, for Thor's sake. He leaned over the gunwale. Wow. He did not remember ever being so sick.

He certainly hoped no one planned on fishing today. Or that fish came feeding around this area.

"Hiccup?"

No. Not now. Not that voice.

"Hiccup, are you all right?"

Slowly, hoping his stomach was empty and nothing was embarrassingly stuck to his lips, he raised his eyes to look at Astrid. She looked really pretty. She couldn't cook chicken, but she sure looked great. If only he felt great.

"Are you sick?" Astrid's voice was full of all that girlish worry and concern. She knelt down at the dock, and it was then Hiccup realized the boat hadn't drifted anywhere at all. In fact, the rope had become tangled around the docks. So much for seafaring bravery.

"Um…" Hiccup could smell his own breath. "No. I'm not sick."

She frowned. "Yeah, I heard the distinct sound of retching and came over. And found you. And you're all pale and shaky now."

He still felt it. "I'm fine."

She bit her lip. "Was it the chicken? I was worried it wasn't cooked enough but you said it was delicious and…"

The chicken hadn't helped but he wasn't about to tell her that. He pulled himself back up to the seat—climbing back on the dock, as desirable as it was, was something his stomach was not ready for. Though neither was sitting in a rocking boat. "No, no, Astrid, the chicken was great. Yummy."

"You sure? Then why did you hide in a rowboat to puke it all up?" She no longer looked worried; rather, she her expression was bordering on offended.

Not good. Hiccup took a deep breath. He was going to have to tell her. "Astrid… I get…" This was so humiliating. "…Seasick."

Astrid blinked, then her mouth twisted into a small grin. "What?"

"You heard me. Seasick." And it wasn't over yet. He swallowed and tried to keep it down. It appeared to be a battle already lost.

Astrid laughed right out. "You have got to be kidding me!"

There had to be some witty and snarky response somewhere inside of him, but it wasn't coming out. Instead he found himself leaning back over the wale into the water. Beautiful summer day waves were far too intense.

Astrid laughed harder. Approached near hysterics.

Hiccup had never disliked her so much.

It had to be at least ten minutes later that she calmed down enough to help him back onto the dock. Help. Such a bad time to be helped. He was shaky and lightheaded and even the dock seemed to rock slightly.

"I can't believe you get seasick!" Astrid said as she sat down next to him. "Still! I thought you were… over that."

Hiccup shook his head. "So I steered a ship once instead of throwing up. Big deal."

"Yeah, but that was when you were little." She laughed again and wiped a tear from her eye. "You can do all sorts of aerial tricks with Toothless and not break a sweat. You get in a little boat and your stomach goes mad."

"I know," he said miserably.

"You were such a weird kid. You were afraid of everything. Spiders. Thunder. Loud noises. Doesn't thunder fall under loud noises?"

He nodded. "Look…I…. I try to avoid boats. My stomach doesn't like them. I'm fine with them. I'm trying to emphasize my stomach's part in this." When was she going to push him into the water?

"Sure. Blame your stomach for your lousy constitution. Everyone knows Vikings do not get seasick."

"Yes they do."

"If they do they don't throw up." More laughter. "I'm sorry, I'm being mean. I'd kiss you but… I'd rather not right now."

He sighed. "I don't blame you."

"Poor you." She hopped to her feet. "This is such juicy potential blackmail."

Hiccup sighed and tried to get up. None of his body was up for it. Stupid stomach and stupid sea.

The storm came out of nowhere. That was the tendency for storms around Berk. A day would be clear and sunny, five minutes would bring black clouds, and five more minutes would send everyone running for cover.

Not Astrid.

So it was no surprise to Hiccup that she would appear at his door that evening, drenched and beaming and looking all the more beautiful for it.

"Hey," she said. "How's your breath?" She grabbed him by the collar and kissed him hard enough that he was grateful his dad was not around to see. "Much better."

"I recovered," he replied as soon as she had let him go. "I ate some mint."

"I could tell." She took his hand and tugged him outside. "Do you want to watch the storm? That is, if you're not afraid of thunder anymore?"

Thunder and lightning and rain were not threats. He smiled and stared up into the rain. "I'm now a human lightning rod, but that's okay."

There was something incredible about storms. The sheer ferocity of nature, the way the lightning lit up everything, even the sound of the thunder that had once sent him scurrying under his father's bed. He especially liked the way Astrid looked in the rain.

They walked the ground still not quite muddy beneath him. Hiccup was soaked within moments, but he didn't care. And to think he had disliked Astrid earlier.

"Hey, I'm sorry for teasing you earlier," she said after a particularly long roll of thunder. "I've never thought of myself as the teasing type. Usually that role belonged to Snotlout and the twins."

"I considered it a form of flirtation."

"Which it kind of was, I assure you. Though you can be sure I was not going to kiss you after that." She squeezed his upper arm. "But you didn't look happy and, well, that's not me. So I wanted to apologize."

He loved her holding him. "Astrid, it's fine."

She didn't seem to hear him. "It's okay if you get seasick. I suppose Vikings get seasick. Some of them. Maybe."

"I'm a Viking. I get seasick."

She smiled. "So you admit it. All right, I accept it. I guess a strong and brave Viking can't be perfect all the time."

Nice. A release on the pure Viking stubbornness that was Astrid. He noticed a bogrose out of the corner of his eyes and plucked it for her. "Astrid, it's okay. I forgive you. I just happen to have a weak stomach when it comes to being on the water and, well, that's why I have a pet dragon."

"You and that dragon." She reached out to take the rose, but the space between their fingers was just too short.

The wind snatched up the flower. It tumbled through the storm, disappearing into the shadows.

"My rose!" Astrid cried. Then, in pure Astrid determination, she took off after it.

"I can find you another rose!" Hiccup called after her. Though he really didn't see any others. The bush had been pretty bare.

"I can't offend you again tonight!" she shouted back.

Girls. Hiccup hurried after her as fast as he could. When he finally caught up, breathless and aching, they were at the shore.

"Figures," Astrid said glumly as she pointed offshore. "It fell in the water."

And so it had. When the lightning flashed, Hiccup could make out the shape of the rose floating on the surface. "I guess you could swim out…"

"During a storm?" She shorted. "You can be such an idiot sometimes."

"Well, I'm not swimming out!"

"Obviously!" She laughed and turned to him. "Ah well, it was a fun chase. I just didn't want… to lose your rose. It was sweet of you. Thanks. But we're both drenched and maybe we should go sit by a fire."

He started to nod. That did sound nice. A warm fire. Astrid.

But then he looked back at the rose, bobbing in the stormy ocean, and something came over him.

What was it? The pride of Vikings who braved the northern world? The pride of any man currying the favor of a pretty girl? Desperation to prove himself a tough Viking?

"No," he said. "I'm getting your rose."

"What?"

"I gave it to you. It's my present." He headed toward the dock where hopefully the rowboat would still be tied. "I want you to have it."

"Hiccup, it's just a flower! And you know I'm more partial to a freshly sharpened weapon anyway!" She marched after him. "Hiccup, what do you think you're doing?"

He hopped into the boat. Wow, the bobbing and rocking was even worse during a storm. Even worse than he remembered. Well, he would show his stomach who was boss. He slid the oars into their locks and untied the rope.

He then realized he had no idea of how to row. A downside of avoiding boats for so many years. He had seen enough people do it, though. How hard could it be? Dip in, pull, feather, stroke.

"Hiccup, get back here!" Astrid screamed.

Thank goodness the waves had carried him too far from dock for her to do something stupid like jump in after him.

Though he was starting to regret this decision. Okay, she was right. It was just plain stupid. He was in a boat in a storm with no idea what he was doing.

And he was about to be very very sick.

But at least the oars seemed to obey basic physics. Push away with them, and the boat pushed away.

Yet underneath the boat the ocean seemed considering just flipping him over.

The thunder was much louder out on the ocean. Much much louder. He suddenly wanted a bed to dive under. Except he would get in trouble for throwing up under a bed.

Odin, he was thinking like a five-year old. But he was going to throw up very soon. There was thunder and lightning and the loud noise of Astrid yelling at him and water that was attacking his stomach and…

The rose. Somehow he had managed to get the boat next to the rose. He leaned over, snatched it, and began awkwardly meandering the boat back to the dock. Very unevenly.

Astrid all but pulled him from the boat, and he fell on top of her. It would have been the perfect opportunity for a kiss save he felt sick and she seemed to notice that. She pushed him away and began to punch him.

"What were you thinking? You could have been struck by lighting! You could have drowned! And you know you get seasick!"

He handed her the rose. "But I didn't throw up."

She took the rose, her face softening. "Thanks. My hero. Though most of the petals are gone."

So they were. Hiccup managed a weak smile.

"But thanks. I'm proud of you. You conquered seasickness. You are the Viking." She kissed him on the cheek.

It should have been sweet, but all he could do was crawl to the edge of the dock and throw up.

The End