#or he's hiding with haddock under the chairs

[benevolenterrancy]

Bianca Castafiore has entered the fray!

continuing to pilfer @marquise-de-clarabas' tags on one of my earlier crossover pictures...

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Floret full

Unrequited!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Reader, mild Fishlegs x Reader

Words: 3467

Your heart’s gone sour, and like all dead things, seeds sprout in its wake. Eventually they grow too large for you to handle on your own. You’ve come to terms with it. For now, you just spend your time flying under the radar, taking long walks and giving good advice. It’s a lonely life, but it’s yours.

Tags: flower disease, hanahaki disease, Unrequited love, angst, postcanon, gn reader

<Previous

“Hey,” You leaned against the open door frame, “Have you figured out what it means, yet?”

“O-oh, hi,” Fishlegs looked up from his book, one you noticed had an array of different plants etched onto the leather cover, “Sort of.”

You pursed your lips. You didn’t like having to come to him with this, honestly preferring to keep it to yourself, but there wasn’t anywhere else to find knowledge like this on Berk. 

“It’s a wild pansy.” He started, hesitating.

“Yes,” You urged him on. You knew this already.

“Wild Pansies symbolize love, and nostalgia.” Your heart stuttered as he just confirmed what you already knew. However, you couldn’t honestly find it in yourself to be surprised. It wasn't like there was much for you to do. As it was, you were just exploring a few whims.

 Fishlegs closed his book, carefully pushing back his chair. Along the side of one wall is a large bookcase. He carefully slots his book along one of the lower shelves.

“...Is it useful?” You look away, rubbing at your arm. It is covered in a heavy layer of furs, mostly to hide the thinning meat. You are all skin and bones now, and it is getting more and more difficult to cover up. Even now, the petals tickle at your throat.

“For skin rashes and bumps, mostly,” He looks at you meaningfully, “I-Is there a reason you’re asking?”

You furrowed your brows.

“I’ve told you,” You said, touching your face. There’s nothing on it, is there? “I just found a flower on the far side of the island. I figured it might be useful. That’s all.”

Fishlegs sighed. You rub your temples as the room spins a little, the silence unbearably stuffy.

“How’s Ruffnut?” Fishlegs perks up slightly at the mention of his pregnant wife, though the sad look on his face hasn’t abated. You are not sure which of two issues he’s thinking of, but you both are aware that he has no right to insert himself into your business. The two of you are not even close enough to qualify as acquaintances. 

The two of you had a shared interest, and in another world you might have been friends. As of now, the closest you’d ever gotten was a glance from a distant stranger you’d mistaken for someone else. Not enough for any sort of real love. And, he wasn’t the type to let anyone but himself care for his dragon if he could help it.

It didn’t take any close bond to understand you, however. Yours was an open secret. Hidden barely under a veil out of view, easy to find if anyone thought to look for it, but inconvenient, easier to leave a mystery. 

You tuned him out, thinking back to earlier in that day

Your line has always turned out weak-hearted people. More lovers and poets than warriors. It’s what made you different from the rest. It’s what excluded you, made you an outcast.

You stayed detached and distant from most people anyways, as you were taught to. It wouldn't be good to get attached, you contracted the lover’s sickness. Unfortunately, it happened anyway.

You’d fallen into friendship with another little outcast a very, very long time ago. It was barely a memory now, a relic of a time long forgotten. 

You, the poor little dragon groomer, had spent your teen years in your dusty little stables with your fine-bristled brush and washcloth watching him adventure from afar. 

Your heart, so vulnerable and fragile, had slowly begun to beat for a place it didn’t belong.

“I just- I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” Their relationship was on the rocks, it’s true. But that had nothing to do with you, you’d not step a foot into their business. They would overcome it and remain just as strong as they always had.

“Give it time,” You sighed, voice raspy, staring out over the oceans that surrounded New Berk, “You both need to cool off. Then you can talk.”

If they weren’t meant for each other then, they certainly were now. 

They, who spent hours, days, years fighting and loving and living together. There was no way that that hadn’t changed him irrevocably. Unrecognizably. So now it must have been that you didn’t love who he was, you loved the ghost of who he could have been. Who you might have known.

They were molded to a perfect fit. 

You could have only wished to have a fraction of what they had with anyone at all. It was only unfortunate how being a lover didn’t attract any love to you.

“I don’t know,” Hiccup bent to rub at his eyes. A budding beard, fluffy cape and respectable leather armor. He almost made up the perfect image of ‘young, promising Chief.’

His feet hug over the cliffside, swinging airily, displacing pebbles along the edge. The smell of fresh dew

Recent rainfall made wandering along the cliff sides dangerous. Neither of you cared for the danger. Hiccup’s years on dragonback made him reckless. Your years of yearning and distress made you apathetic. You found yourself along the cliffs often.

“That’s what everyone is always telling me. But I’m not sure I'm doing the right thing. I’m not sure I did the right thing.” He ranted.

“What’s right is subjective,” You twirled the stem of a flower between your fingers. You’d coughed it up before he’d gotten there. As his trusted confidant, you welcomed him as he dropped down besides you, always the listener. You didn’t have much of a voice to talk with anymore, anyways. Your throat was sore, voice scratchy.

“It’s unfortunate that, as Chief, you’re constantly at the mercy of others. She’s always been right for you, though, hasn’t she? You’ve loved her since we were kids. You loved her as a teen, you married her, so that hasn’t changed, has it? You’re going to have kids soon. You’re trying to have children. Don’t get cold feet. Don’t back out on her now.”

“I know, but… I don’t know if I’m right for her,” His voice cracked, “I feel like I’m holding her back.

“I know you haven’t considered anything else. There is no one else for you, is there?” You gave him a pointed look, urging him to not make a mistake he would ultimately regret, “She’s the only one who can decide that. She chose you. She’s wanted no one else since then, if she ever had at all.”

“Yeah… Yeah,” He slowly nodded an affirmative, staring up into the clouds as seabirds called to each other in the sky.  “I just… I miss Toothless. He was my best friend. I know it’s been years, but don’t know if I can be sure of anything without him here.”

You hummed. That was a sentiment you understood very well.

Death by flower was the coward’s way out. It was more honorable to go on your own terms, not led by some silly organ-led emotions. It was unvikingly. It was dishonorable. You hadn’t the courage or mind to do it, though. You didn’t want to die. And wasn’t that a bitter thought?

You’d always known that you might not have a choice.

You were tired.

You closed and opened your eyes in odd intervals as you strolled through the new forests. Your direction was aimless, just as it had been for many days. Sometimes it would bring you back into the village for food you couldn’t eat, sometimes it would bring you to other unreachable parts of the forests.

From lived experience, you knew that half of the danger of the flower disease was malnourishment. You’d seen plenty die to that before the roots and blossoms had grown tall enough to choke, and to suffocate. You wondered which death would claim you first.

The higher fields located above on the cliffs were unreachable to you, too weak and weary to climb upwards. Besides making it harder to breathe, your flowers made it near impossible to eat. As soon as anything touched the back of your throat, you’d be sent into another coughing fit. 

Of course you could, appropriately, feel your days coming to an end. You haven't had much energy for a long while. 

After you expended the last of your reserves finding your way through a thicket, you stopped by a small stream, hoping for a quiet place to rest.

You stared at the ever moving water. You imagined what it would be like, to be so unaffected.

This new island, it had all the right parts, just in all the wrong places. The same plants, trees, grass, oceans- It all makes you miss home. Berk. The trickling streams and rivers you knew better than yourself.

Lazily, you spotted your own reflection. Couldn’t say you were anything to gawk at.

The large coat you wore made you look imposing. Wise. You didn’t feel like either of those things. But you did feel almost settled.

You lowered yourself between two rocks by the creekside, filled with a sense of nostalgia. It’s the first time you’ve been comfortable in a long while, or as comfortable as you could be as roots burrowed through soft mucousy flesh.

It was a good napping spot. A good place to think. 

If you cut it down to its most simple parts, you would have to say that Hiccup was the sun.

You stared up into the empty blue sky, laced sporadically with clouds of thin white cotton. It was bright out, almost painfully so. 

He used to be your star, but he’d left for brighter, more suited pastures. You were the night sky, a dark blanket with no light. An empty background. Stifling, perhaps.

So maybe it was out of some subconscious effort that you’d decided you’d had to take matters into your own hands. Every petal was a new blinking star in the night sky, every leaf a constellation. You were your own stars, now. That was a better alternative to the truth. 

You blinked, half lidded eyes feeling heavier than the weight in your limbs and the burden of your own heart.

You assumed your flaw was making him the only star in your sky. Perhaps if there had been more people to share the love, you wouldn’t have cared for those seeds so thoroughly.

He couldn’t get what you’d said out of his mind. 

He’d stumbled upon it earlier, wondering where you’d been going off to these past few days. Pushing through old brambles, searching for you when no one else would. You weren’t well known enough in the village for people to rush to find you after you’d gone missing.

However, you were close to Hiccup.

His breath caught. The pansies were in a varied state of birth, bloom and wilt. So, already, there were pods ripe with seeds dotting the grasses around your final resting place.

There were no fancy arrangements of vines and roots to signify some grand and important passing. It was a simple, narrow clearing with sparse dottings of flowers, not extravagant but no less precious. 

Hiccup might not have realized it was you at first if he hadn’t seen your body, graying and cold, wedged between the rocks. 

Neither you nor Hiccup ever expected to die in a blaze of glory, so perhaps it was fitting.

A heavy weight fell in Hiccup’s chest. 

You’d been off recently. Out of it. He wondered how long you’d been suffering and he hadn’t noticed. You had to spend your last days alone.

Sometime between adolescence and adulthood, you’d grown. You’d been able to cast off the confusion and awkwardness that had bonded the two of you together and where there was unsurety and gawkiness before, there was wisdom and a deep sort of knowing. 

Unfortunately, it felt as though now that you were gone, all of the answers seemed to have gone with you.

Hiccup bent down, and, gently, pulled a few pods from their stems. He hadn’t the faintest clue why, but grief did many odd things to a person. He fully intended to leave your body for now, as it felt like holy ground, to disturb your dirt would be sacrilegious. 

Objectively, however, it would need to be burned lest the island become overrun. Hiccup just hadn’t the heart to do it himself.

Perhaps he’d sew the seeds in a pit by his house, or keep a pot by his workbench, though he’d never been the type to grow anything so delicate. He’d never been the type to care for plants at all, in fact. 

Hiccup rubbed his creased brows, sitting at a full table, papers and effects spilling off of the sides like waterfalls. Even after all these years, the feeling that he just wasn’t cut out for this life still hadn’t left him. He didn’t enjoy this.

He didn’t like directing vikings, managing houses or organizing exploration efforts at all. Trying to keep everyone in line was stressful and being in charge of the upkeep of all the storehouses and events was unbearable.

Sometimes, even keeping up with his friends was difficult. His family. He couldn’t just fly off when he needed to take a break, anymore. Hiccup dealt with it.

But Snotlout, the Twins, they definitely got on his nerves now a lot more than before. Fishlegs was helpful. The most help, though, came from Astrid

Not in the typical sense. She was a doer, not a manager. She was a pusher and a fighter, and sometimes that was just what he needed to force himself to keep going. 

Astrid, truly, was strong. Their relationship was the same. Good, sturdy. She valued capability, and boy did he try to be capable. He proved his worth time and time again. She loved him for it. It was all he wanted. At least, that’s what he thought.

Still, he wondered if she’d ever thought of being with someone else. If she’d wondered if she was better off alone the same way he did.

But no, Astrid was good. Perfect, even. He still couldn’t help but wonder if she was good for him. It was a lot of work, to constantly meet her toe-to-toe, especially in times when he just needed rest.

He hated the thought, because she’d never done anything to deserve that kind of thinking. Because that’s what she needed and deserved. Because there were hundreds of vikings who would kill to be in his place. Because if he couldn’t keep up, then why was he here? Why had he wasted so much of her time?

No. She’d chosen him. 

She’d chosen him.

Hiccup clung to that phrase like a mantra, eyeing the pot on the windowsill.

He frowned at the wilting leaves, pushing up from the desk to walk to the sill. He kept a watering can there, always filled. It was the least he could do.

There was a noticeable mark under where it usually sat, which Hiccup grimaced at. No matter how many times he tried to brush it off, it was still there. He reminded himself to try sanding it off later, if he had time, though it would probably fall to the wayside, same as many of his other crafts.

He realized with displeasure that he had been neglecting it.

Caring for the flower had in effect become part of his routine. Astrid sometimes looked at him oddly for it, though she never said anything, probably wondering why he’d picked up the sudden hobby. 

It was difficult at first, just another thing he had to keep up with. But over time he found that it was relaxing, unwinding in a way he’d never have thought. So even when he was at his busiest, he’d found time for it. He’d been careful to prune dead and unwieldy branches. To pick out weeds, bring it in during the winter and replace the soil every spring.

Hiccup scratched his beard, watching as water sunk into the pot soil. He smiled faintly as he heard hurried footsteps march up the porch to the Haddock home, too light to be Astrid, or Gobber, or any one of the other Riders.

The door swung wide open and his children burst through, trampling wood as they ran in. He caught a shot of the outdoors in his periphery as the door swung shut. It was a bright day outside, paths littered with small purple and white flowers.

The fields, he knew, would be blooming too. Even after the burning, they were still there. The flowers eventually crept into the village. As it turned out, they didn’t get in the way of the crops or paths or anything of the sorts. They didn’t drown out the fields either. Hardly suffocating as he’d expected.

After the initial irritation, everyone figured they weren't malicious, so eventually everyone had gotten used to them and just let them be. Eventually they just became another part of the island, though there was some prevailing confusion over where they had come from.

A little body stopped right next to him, standing on toes to also examine the soil. Then there was a groan, probably at the realization that there wasn’t much of anything interesting to look at, at least not for her, which was alright enough, he supposed.

“Dad, Why do you water the pansies?” Came the annoyed voice of his daughter, as Hiccup placed the watering can back in its rightful spot, “There are so many outside already.”

Hiccup furrowed his brows again, trying to find the right words. He was at a loss at how to answer. He wasn’t exactly sure himself.

“...A good friend of mine gave them to me.” He tried the phrase on his tongue. Still, even after he said it, it didn’t feel quite right.

It was true, in a way. Ignoring Hiccup’s own part in taking the seeds, you’d given everyone and the whole island some sorely needed color. 

Maybe his daughter could tell he was sort of unsure himself.

After some thinking, he decided that they reminded him of the way you used to look at him, like he was the only thing you cared about. He used to shy away from it, but now, especially in times like these, he missed it.

He stared at the soft petals as she wandered off, dragging her brother along with her.

Hiccup could say that, in part, the flowers were reminiscent of better times. He wasn’t sure which better times he was referring to, though. He could mean the times he spent out with the riders, or with Toothless soaring over the archipelago. 

But he also recalled the faint image of all the quiet times you two had spent sitting across the fire after the fact, in the early hours when everyone else had gone to bed. When even the crickets were silent and the licking heat and crackling fire were the only things that existed in that moment. 

 He’d spent the time talking to you, the two of you  whispering in loud and hushed voices. He could almost smell the burning logs, feeling his arms twitch, recalling the muscle memory involved with feeding sticks and stumps into the pit.

He felt sort of odd caring for the flowers sometimes, when his reminiscing would bring him and his watering can outside into the bushes on the outskirts of New Berk, caring for and replanting some of the blooms there.

He was an interloper of a sort, caring for flowers born from a love that was not meant for him. When he did, he imagined what sort of life he’d have led if you’d survived somehow. It was impossible, even so, he wished for it.

He could picture the last time he saw you alive, looking over those clifftops. He wished he’d said more, said something valuable to leave you with. He wasn’t completely sure what, but he wished he would have said something. 

Hiccup leaned against the windowsill on closed fists, looking, finally, outwards, into the trees and past them to the few straggling vikings he could observe over the cliffs. 

He puzzled gently, picturing your face. Sometimes, when he thought of you, it almost felt a little bit like- 

Hiccup paused as a cough wracked through his chest, causing him to tense and hit his chest, burying his nose into his elbow and shutting his eyes tightly. It’d been happening more and more often, and had gotten to the point where it had begun to give him the shakes. 

As the spasms calmed, he thought of going to a healer, as he occasionally did.

Then Hiccup wiped his mouth, rubbing his hand off on his pant leg and brushing it off, as he always did. 

It was just a cold, after all. It’d pass.

[buckyownsmylife]

Watched him leave - Alpha!Steve smut

The one where Steve takes advantage of you

Warnings: non-con/extremely dubious consent, a/b/o dynamics, heats, non-consensual cheating - against a third-party (Bucky).

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Rubbing my arm, I tried to keep it pressed to the gash on my chest, right over my ribcage. It wasn’t even that deep, but it was deep enough, as far as the Captain was concerned. I don’t think I’d ever even heard him curse before that mission, but ever since Hydra found our original base of surveillance, I had grown to understand America’s golden boy a little bit better, and the man could curse like a motherfucking sailor. 

Captain Haddock who? Steve Rogers could put any man to shame, that much I already knew, but seeing as I didn’t exactly have a crush on *that* particular cartoon character from my childhood, I think it was safe to assume it was the last character I expected to associate with my captain.

My boyfriend’s best friend.

It’d been so weird, the “upgrade” from being under his authority to kind of buddies with the man who’d been barking orders at me since I was at the Avengers Academy. Suddenly, he wasn’t giving me that awkward smirk that looked more like a grimace than anything else whenever we stumbled onto one another at a party. No, I was expected to sit right alongside him, Bucky’s metal arm on the chair behind me as I struggled not to feel out of place amongst the heroes of the Earth, the mightiest of mightiest.

When it was just James and me, it was easy to forget everything else - who he used to be and who people expected him to be. But in any situation where Steve was around, our perfect little paradise inevitably crumble to pieces at our feet, even if it wasn’t his best friend’s fault at all.

I’d noticed, how he didn’t like it either. All of the attention and the glory, it all came with a warning: MUST BE KNOWN AT ALL TIMES.

And even the mightiest hero had moments where he wanted to be ignored. So here I was, granting him his wish.

“Why can’t you ever fucking behave?” He yelled as he struggled to open the door of the safe house in the middle of nowhere, and although I 100%, absolutely deserved the drilling he was trying to give me, all I could focus was on how many days it’d been since our last stop.

Fourteen… No, sixteen last Saturday…

Shit.

“Steve.” 

The way I said his name must have shocked him. In all of the years we’d known each other, I’d never felt comfortable addressing him by his first name, not even despite all of the teasing Sam always did when we were all hanging out together, as “friends” - or whatever it was we’d became after Bucky and I started dating.

“Steve, I’m off my heat pills.”

A gunshot sounded in the distance. Steve cursed as we both looked over our shoulders to check on the distance from our enemies. We both knew our only option was to hide in the “abandoned cabin”, which was actually reinforced with enough metal and insulation to keep us protected from a hurricane if it were to come by - until the Hydra agents gave up on us or someone came to our rescue.

We just didn’t count on the fact that I’d go into heat and he’d be stuck in there with me.

A shiver ran down my spine, and I saw Steve pale as he threw one last look into where we could hear men approaching before tapping the security code that opened the door to the safe house. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t look me in the eye once we were inside the cabin. After making sure the door was perfectly locked and there was no way they could get in, he made a beeline to the bathroom, while I stood in the middle of the open-space kitchen-bedroom-and-living-room and pondered over what the fuck I should do.

If I stayed there, there was no way I’d be able to hold back. I’d been in heat pills ever since I was fifteen and first decided I wanted to become a SHIELD agent. This heat would be years in the making. I wouldn’t just need to pounce on an Alpha - I’d become feral for him or her.

But there was only one ‘him’ here. And it was one I definitely didn’t want to need.

“Steve…” I tried again once he was out of the bathroom, hands on his hips as he kept ignoring me. I knew what he was looking for. I also knew he wouldn’t find it. “Steve, they don’t keep heat pills in safe houses. Each omega needs different dosages, they could never stock up on everything. We’re told to carry them with us at all times.”

“Then where the fuck is yours?!” He yelled, making me jump and fall over some empty boxes that’d been left by the previous inhabitants of this place, certainly. “Why do you have to make everything so goddamn difficult, all of the fucking time?”

Suddenly, I was so done with all of this. The way my suit clung to my sweaty skin, making me feel even more uncomfortable than Steve’s hardened gaze on me. The way my chest tightened to the point it was making it difficult for me to breathe.

How none of this was my fault, and still, I was getting the (blame for it?) worst of it, somehow.

“My last envelope stayed back at the hotel,” I informed him, for once in my life standing up to the man who was my boss. “You know, the one from where we had to run once you blew up our covers?”

Our chests heaved with the anger we were both trying to contain, not wanting this to become even worse than it already was. His blue eyes looked almost black and he glowed underneath the single fluorescent light that illuminated the wooden interior, and I shivered.

A single drop of sweat ran down my back, and when I opened my mouth to sigh, a hand cut off my breath.

“No.” 

I hadn’t noticed how close we’d gotten after I decided to stand up for myself. His hard chest was pressed up against mine and that, in addition to the way his fingers pressed to the sides of my throat, had the fire in my belly bursting up into full flames that threatened to swallow me whole. 

It scared me.

“No, you don’t get to turn this around and blame me for your shitty behaviour.” I wanted to take a step back, put some distance between the both of us, but his grip on me didn’t allow me to do so. And the danger he exhaled only added to the heat growing inside of me, making it emanate in waves towards the man that was scarying me. “Do you have any idea how fucking hard you’ve made this mission for me?”

Had I been in a different mindset - a saner, calmer mindset - I might have questioned his words, even realized the warning in them. I hadn’t been the one at fault for anything that had gone askew - Steve had been behaving weirdly since the very beginning, when we first set foot in Barcelona. He’d lost track of our target a dozen times until ultimately giving off our location and mission, resulting in us having to disappear and leave everything behind - including the pills he was guilting me for forgetting.

How could this possibly be my fault?

My world was flipped upside down when he turned me around and pressed my back against his front, forcing me to acknowledge a hardness I wasn’t expecting. “Do you have any idea how hard you’ve been making my life since you waltzed into it?”

Dizzy with the lack of oxygen, my only choice was to hold onto Steve’s arms as he kept me close, breath hitting my neck as he growled, “Wanna know what it felt like? Watching you fall for him while I was dying to be inside of you?”

My clothes were torn into shreds with a single hand and I was left exposed, feet dangling as he palmed my drenched cunt with determination. “I tried so hard to be a good guy, a good boss. I kept myself away, not wanting to put you in a difficult position, and then Bucky came and just… took you.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to scream and fight and tell him that I didn’t want this, but as his fingers swiped along my lower lips, gathering my wetness, the heat I was hoping to control took over, and I was left pliant and eager.

Desperately in need of something only he could provide me at that moment.

“Yeah, it feels good, doesn’t it?” I jutted my hips up, searching for his digits instinctively, desperate for his touch. “I’ll show you how it would have been, how it could have been if you’d chosen me. I’ll show you what you’re missing. I’ll keep the pain away, however long it takes.”

But it didn’t take long at all. The video security system alerted us of the approach of a helicopter - SHIELD’s, and so our time together was running out. With a swipe of his thumb, he brought me to a release, but then he just kept playing with it, prolonging my pleasure way past sensitivity until it became the most delicious pain I’d ever felt…

And then he let me go.

“Get dressed,” he ordered, not even sparing me a glance as he pointed towards the bathroom, where I assumed he’d found some clothes left behind. “I’ll help them take down those Hydra agents.”

And as I watched him leave, I was torn between thanking him and crying, knowing I wouldn’t have been able to return home tonight if he hadn’t provided me with at least one orgasm to hold onto in the efforts to keep my heat at bay, but still…

How would I ever be able to look Bucky in the eyes again?

“You won’t tell him,” Steve informed me, like I had no say in the matter. I hadn’t even realized he was still standing right there, in front of the closed door, his back turned to me. “I helped you, now you owe me.”

A/N: What do you think Steve will want in return? 👀

[backtomyfirstfandom]

Belgian Freelancers (a Tintin Fanfiction)

Chapter III - Nazi Party

So, this got posted by mistake and there will be a second part. I'm sorry, but this chapter is incomplete

Tintin goes to the party (Haddock follows because he's a good husband) and there are lots of unwished meetings (also pretty things that I eventually kept as a surprise, I swear you'll like it).

Part one, two.

Prequel.

None of them had actually ever been to a Nazi party, nor had ever thought they would have ever been invited to one; Haddock had avoided them like plague since when they had stepped on Belgian land, while Tintin was way too busy trying to not get killed by their weapons to ever have a close encounter.

It was something new to both, something that they would have happily avoided for the sake of cuddling in bed (clearly preferable compared to walking around Germans).

While fixing his hair in front of the mirror, Haddock heard Tintin's steps approaching him, expecting the lad to be hasty about leaving the house in time in order to reach the party before the curfew. Instead, the reporter stopped shyly behind his lover, as if waiting for him to turn around.

-Captain? - he eventually called, getting the seaman to turn around.

The older man looked at the reporter with an enamoured smile, eating with his eyes the sight of Tintin wearing a pinstriped black suit. Despite being mesmerised by how Tintin looked, the man noticed his rather nervous state by the way the reporter was playing with his fingers.

-What's wrong, gingerbread? - Haddock asked, letting the comb down on the sink before stepping closer.

-Ehm...I'm on my period and I was wondering whether it was evident - Tintin explained, turning around tensed as if asking the captain to check.

No pad was to be seen, but even if it did the black trousers were hiding it very well (thanks to the soft stripes as well); the only noticeable sign was the swelling of the reporter's belly, which wasn't necessarily a symptom of period.

-You're fine, lad. And also stunning - Haddock replied, leaving a peck on the back of Tintin's head.

The ginger turned around with a relaxed smile, but was still playing nervously with his fingers.

-They won't noticed, i swear - Haddock assure him, but still the reporter sighed.

-But I might stain the trousers -

-René, you're wearing black trousers -

-But they have white stripes and I might bleed on chairs -

-Would it help if i checked that for you? - Haddock asked, waiting for Tintin's answer, who simply stared at him.

The lad nodded slowly and relaxed, letting his fingers alone.

-Yes, I think it might help. Thank you - he answered and Haddock moved to give him a quick kiss.

The lad kissed back and then moved to the mirror with a content smile, moving to the mirror to fix his tie.

-

The bellyache started right after they reached the party and got out of the car, still bearable even though it would have degenerated very soon. His period had always had bad timing.

-Still no stain? - Tintin asked Haddock, who moved to check on his trousers under the last bit of light that had remained.

-You're fine - the captain answered, while Snowy waited for them just a few steps forward.

The reporter only hummed in response, puffing in irritation at the growing pain and feeling of distress.

-Everything alright? - Haddock questioned with a worried expression, while he took him arm in arm in the most platonic way possible.

The captain still had a lot to learn about said period, since it had gotten Tintin so much to open up about it, and most of the time he simply went silent about lots of things that happened in those days; there was a lot of interiorised fear for the subject and distress caused by it in Titnin's silence on the topic, but Haddock was more than happy to help when he was asked to.

-It aches - the reporter whispered.

Haddock stopped right before entering the building, looking at his lover with an expression so full of concern that made Tintin smile through the pain.

-Do you need to get back home? - the captain asked, already turned towards the car.

-No, it's going to be fine. I'll just sit on a chair the entire night - the reporter answered, with a thankful smile and stopping himself right before he leaned to kiss Haddock.

Inside, the main hall was warm with the heat coming from all the people in the room (some of them also caused a soft smell of tobacco) and a band in the corner played Charleston, to which only a few people were dancing. Crawling among Nazis in grey and white uniforms, Tintin made a grimace at seeing a girl in a red dress dancing with emphasis together with a soldier in white: the last time he had danced with such an involvement he had been a teenager, and danced with a boy that had luckily disappeared from his life.

-I'll just search for an officer. Go and eat something - Tintin suggested, gently caressing Haddock's arm before pulling away.

-I'm here if you need something - the captain asked, letting the reporter walk away.

Snowy followed its owner through the people, while Tintin searched for an officer who seemed friendly enough in order to ask him who was going to ask him questions. He was about to head for an officer standing in the corner, when he was grabbed by the elbow; despite the grip being rather gentle, the reporter turned around with a pissed expression and a flinch, freezing when he saw the person that had grabbed him: it was a Nazi in a white uniform (the swastika shining in the center of the collar) and was looking at him with a warm and friendly smiled that he knew but didn't recognise; his hair was of a chocolate brown (just like his eyes) and was combed to the side, a dark mole on his cheek.

-It's a pleasure to have you here, Edith - the soldier cheered and Tintin almost walked away as he recognised him.

-I'm afraid that's not my name anymore, Leon -

Him and Leon Braun had met years before, almost two decades, and Tintin had hoped to never ever meet him again; however, he was there in front of him, as a Nazi lieutenant.

-Ah, right: you go by Tintin - Leon replied, letting Tintin's arm go and keeping that friendly smile.

-Actually, it's René. It's on my identity card - the reporter corrected him.

The soldier nodded in response, not seeming to be willing to leave the ginger alone.

-You're in the SS now - the reporter noticed, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence between them.

-I'm very proud of it. I'm considered a sort of hero in Germany -

-May I ask why? -

-I was just my duty: I freed a town on my own, shooting through the rubble -

-A sniper -

-Yes, a sniper - Leon agreed, his smile brightening for a moment, to show the pride he held for such an action.

-I'm afraid I should leave you, because I'm searching for whoever should ask me questions about my documentation - Tintin suddenly said, moving in order to walk away.

-Oh, I'm that person you're looking for - Leon answered and Tintin froze, turning around in resignation.

-Go ahead, then -

Braun extended his arm for the reporter, who politely took it despite searching for Haddock through the crowd with his gaze.

-Follow me, fräulein - Leon said as he started walking, and the ginger frowned in disgust at the use of the term fräulein.

Giving one last glance through the crowd in the hope of seeing Haddock, Tintin let himself be guided upstairs, on curve stairs, and then into a room. It was a little and warm office, with dark furniture and a bookcase with books in German. Behind the desk (dominated by a white statue of a eagle holding a swastika) stood the German flag, just by the window.

From there, the music coming from the ground floor sounded like a background noise, muffled by the walls.

- Please, take a seat - Leon said, going to seat behind the desk.

Tintin occupied the chair on the left, in front of the desk, while Braun took a shabby notebook and a pack of camera rolls.

- I was very impressed by your work, Edith. You didn't make it easy, we had to pay a civilian for translating the Flemish...but it's alright, easy jobs are boring -

- It's René - Tintin corrected him in the politest voice he could manage, but went completely ignore.

- I've never expected you to become a reporter - Leon continued, leafing through the papers that contained the translation of Tintin's documentation.

- And I've never expected you to become a lieutenant of the Schutzstaffel. Yet here we are - the reporter replied, in perfect German.

While Leon tidied the papers, Tintin shifted slightly and covered his belly with an arm as the pain became worse for a moment, as if his flesh was being teared open.

- I hear, and read, that you know how things work very well - Braun noticed, looking up at the ginger.

[me-and-your-husband]

Need Someone (Part 2)

Summary: Reader gets into some trouble, and doesn’t know who else to call besides her best friend’s dad, District Attorney Andy Barber.

Warnings: age gap, kidnapping and attempted sexual assault.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Note: Lets say reader is 18 and in senior year.

    I had managed to get my captor to untie me from the bed, which was the first step in the right direction. Now, I sat with my legs hanging off the side of the bed, trembling. He sat beside me, stroking my hair. I could feel his hot breath on my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that I would be able to endure less of it. When I was finally able to stop thinking about the man’s lingering breath on my neck, I felt his dry lips attach to my neck in a chaste kiss. I let out a noise of disgust, and my eyes widened when I realized what I just did.

   A calloused hand came up to grip my jaw, and the man swiftly turned my face to meet his. His eyebrows met in a frenzy of anger, yet the corners of his mouth curled up in a sinister smirk. 

“I thought you were ‘gonna be cooperative, Hon’,” He said rhetorically. My bottom lip trembled out of fear when I tried to speak. Breaking eye contact, I moved my gaze back down to my hands, clutching the bed sheets.

Just then, I felt a cold force hit my cheek, sending me flying to the floor with a thud. I pressed my hand to my cheek, my cold hand being a vast contrast to the burning flesh where the mark was left. A shaky breath escaped my lips, as my eyes darted around the room, searching for a plan. The man let out an almost grizzly-like growl at this, and lunged toward me. Luckily, I was able to bound away and stumble through the bedroom door. Trying to navigate my way through this house was difficult; the man had carried me up here when I was unconscious. 

     Sprinting to the door to what I assumed would be the stairs, I slammed the door behind me and my trembling hand frantically moved to lock it, but the whole door handle had been removed. Adrenaline pumped through my body as I looked around the room. It seemed to be a guest room, decorated with little but a bed, a nightstand with a single lamp on it, and a rocking chair sat by the small window, which was currently open, letting a draft in, causing the thin curtains to sway in the breeze.

   My legs took me to the window, where I yelled for help as loud as I could, even sticking my head out the window to wave to anyone passing by. It was light now, around noon, according to the place of the sun in the sky. Surely, the Barbers had realized something was wrong when Jacob didn’t hear from me yet today. 

“Come here, you bitch!” is what echoed through the hall, heavy footsteps approaching the door. The thought went into my head for a brief moment, and I knew I had to at least try. I grabbed the lamp from the nightstand and removed the shade, revealing a glass lightbulb. Quickly, I ran to hide behind the doorknob-less door, and held the lamp close to my chest, Drawing a deep breath in, I waited for the door to swing open.

  Once the door opened, I waited for the man to step far enough into the room. His sweaty figure had it’s back turned towards me, to which I stepped forward, raising the lamp above my head. I brought it down with force, and the sound of glass shattering could be heard amongst the throaty groan the man let out. Blood trickled from his bald skull, as his hand came up to check the wound site. When he seen that crimson painted his fingers, he slowly turned around to face me. The lamp in my hands, which were cut and bleeding from the glass, fell onto the ground in between us. 

“You little slut. You think you can do this to me? Just wait until I get my hands on you, you little...” I couldn’t hear the rest, as my legs took me down the stairs, as if I knew this house like my own, and for some reason I ran right past the back door, and went for the kitchen. Flying around the kitchen island, I grabbed a knife from the knife block. Getting down with my back up against the cabinet of the kitchen island, I tried to steady my breath. For a few minutes, I heard nothing but silence. Then, a low, steady, unwavering, monotone groan, and something dragging. Then, more silence. 

     Hot tears spilled onto my cheeks, and the copper taste filled my mouth. I let go of the bottom lip that I had been anxiously gnawing on and stood up to take a peek over the island. My face was met with the man, blood running down the side of his face, leaning forward over the counter. 

“Well, hi there,” he whispered, almost inaudibly. A blood-curdling shriek left my lips, one that felt like I had been holding back for a century. His large hand grabbed me by the hair, picking me up and throwing me across the kitchen floor, causing the knife in my hand to fall and slide across the floor.. I landed with a crack, and tried to ignore the pain resonating in my arm. 

“No, no please stop, you don’t have to do this,” I cried, crawling backwards as best as I could on my elbows. I inched towards the knife, as he stalked towards me. He brought his foot out and gave me a hard kick in the ribs, gaining another cry out of me. As I lay there clutching my side, he sat on my legs, keeping me in place. Reaching into his pocket, he brought out a small gadget. Flipping it open , he revealed that it was a pocket knife. 

“Now, since you won’t behave, I’ll give you something to remember me every time you look in the mirror,” He stated dastardly. Despite my thrashing, he brought the knife up to just under my left eye on my cheek, and pressed into the skin. He didn’t go deep enough for me to bleed out, nor for it to scar, but it still hurt like a bitch, 

    His other hand came up to cover my mouth, muffling my screams and protests. He dragged the blade along my flesh, but in moment of his hesitation, I caught him off guard and brought my fist up to his stomach. The blow was hard enough for him to fall off of me, releasing my legs. I crawled on my stomach over to the knife that was now a few feet away from me. 

When my fingertips brushed the hilt of it, A strong hand wrapped around my ankle. He pulled me back towards him, but luckily I had managed to wrap my hand around the knife’s blade, cutting into my hand. I moved my hand down to the hilt, and turned around. I plunged it straight into his neck, and his eyes popped out of their sockets. Both of his hands immediately came up to clutch his bleeding neck. Blood gushed and squirted out of it. Within ten seconds, we were both laying in a pool of our blood, more his than mine.

    I listened to his breathing patterns. They finally went form sounding mucus-filled and clotted, to none at all. Once I had realized he was really dead and he was safe, the adrenaline started to wear off and I became tired. 

   The realization that I needed help was what brought me back from drifting off. I managed to climb off the floor, and reach the house phone that sat on the counter by the stove. I grabbed the phone and dialed 911, but a thought crossed my mind. What if I get charged for murder? What if they don’t understand it was self defense?

    I finally make up my mind, and make the decision to call the only other person I know that can for sure help me. I dialed Andy Barber’s number, and waited as it rung. I crossed my fingers in hopes that he would pick up. While it was ringing, I took in my surroundings. The white kitchen walls were now splattered with blood, the tiled floor flooded in it. My clothes were soaked in either his blood or mine. This reminded me of my cheek, to which I brought my hand up to swipe across. This was a bad idea, as the touch made it sting more.

 I was pulled out of my trance by a tired, raspy voice. “Andy Barber speaking,” came from the other line, and I let out a breath I had been holding in. 

“Andy?” I said, but it came out in almost a whisper. It was like I could physically feel him perk up.

“Y/N? Is that you? Where are you?”

“Andy, I don’t know where I am. I’m in a house,” I told him earnestly. 

“Alright,” he sighed. I could just imagine him running his hand over his face. “Look for bills, or anything that could have the address on it,” 

I hummed in response and began scavenging the kitchen for bills or documents. I went through all of the drawers and cupboards with the phone between my ear and shoulder, finding nothing. I was just about ready to give up when I noticed a paper pinned on the stainless steel refrigerator with a magnet. I crept up to the fridge, almost cautiously. I held the phone to my ear with one hand and reached out for the paper slowly with the other. I plucked it off of the fridge and held it in front of me. My trembling hand made it difficult to read, but I could make out a name. 

ROBERT ARTHUR HADDOCK

1271 ASPIN WAY

“1271 Aspin Way, that’s where I am,” I said in monotone to the phone. Andy cleared his throat. 

“Okay, alright. Just hang tight, honey. I’ll send the police down, they’ll be there shortly. Stay on the line, okay?” he said soothingly. 

“No, no Andy you can’t, I-”

“It’s alright, honey it’ll be fine, I trust these people. I wouldn’t let them anywhere near you if I didn’t,” He reassured me. It might have been inappropriate, the time and place considered, but the pet name he kept using made my heart flutter.

“It’s not that, I...I killed him,”

Silence from the other end. I could picture Andy’s mouth agape. 

“But-but it was in self defense, I swear! He was trying to hurt me, he did hurt me. Oh right, I’m still bleeding,” I said, voice trailing off at the end. This brought him out of his silence.

“What! Y/N, you’re hurt? How bad is it?” He badgered, concern laced in his voice.

“I think my arm’s broke, he cut my cheek, and he kicked me in the ribs. There’s blood everywhere, oh God. I don’t even know how much of it’s mine...” I mewled, my voice cracking at the end, the tears coming back down again.

“I’m on my way,” Andy stated.

“Please don’t tell Jacob, and don’t bring anybody else, please,” I begged.

“I won’t,” he said gently, before I heard a car door open and shut swiftly. “...Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“It’s been nearly three days. For three fucking days you could have been dead,”

Sitting on the floor by the front door, I sat talking to Andy as he drove. This house was on the other side of Newton. 

The phone I was using gave a warning beep, to let me know that it was almost dead.

“Andy. the phone’s almost dead,” I said softly.

“It’s okay, I’m almost there. I’m about five minutes away, you can unlock the-” 

The phone died.

Letting out a sigh, I threw the drained house phone across the room. “Damn it,” I murmured to myself. It was then, sitting in the approaching darkness, utterly alone, that I realized that I needed to use the washroom. The only problem was, I didn’t know where it was, and I just killed the guy who owns it. 

I stood up with a grunt, and started opening random doors. When I opened the last one at the end of a long, white corridor, a foul smell floated into the air. Trying to keep down the lunch I was deprived of, I plugged my nose. My eyes found a small string hanging from the ceiling, to which I assumed would turn on a light. I was correct.

    Bright orange light flooded the small room, which revealed to me that there was one flight of stairs below me. At the bottom, the sight I was presented with shook me to my core.

    Seven women lay on the landing at the end of the stairs, all defiled and mutilated. The bodies of the women were bloated and purple, and some even looked like they had started rotting. 

    The scream that left my mouth this time was so vile and so loud, that I couldn’t hear Andy forcefully opening the front door and stumbling in, yelling my name. I only stopped screaming when I fell to the ground, either passing out from blood loss or shock, cheeks wet from tears. Andy’s thick arms wrapped around me, catching me before I hit the hard ground.

Tags: @zaddychris @kyrarose16 @lexeeehhh @kelbabyblue​ @lovelivelife128

@kalesrebellion​

[astridthevalkyrie]

My Companion: Chapter 3

"Maybe, somewhere along the way, Astrid had fallen in love with her husband, and now she had to pay the price." Or, they have an arranged marriage and Astrid isn't sure how dedicated Hiccup is to her. Oneshot. {Now a series of oneshots!}

Read it on FF.net or A03

Time to come back to Arranged Hiccstrid! I was watching the show for which this fic was named and naturally, felt inspired. Have a little looky into Hiccup and Astrid’s early days!

The Night of the Wedding

Astrid felt like a stranger in her own dress.

She wanted to take it off. Technically, she could. Hiccup Haddock was her husband, as was made official in the past few hours, and it would be appropriate to undress and change in front of him.

In fact, it’d be expected. The night of their wedding...a night to conceive the heir.

Odin curse all of the expectations! If she wanted to make a fuss about propriety and wanted to keep herself clothed in front of him, then she reserved her damn right to do just that.

The chief was not a cruel man, that much she knew. Still, his new and tolerant approach to dragons hardly meant that he’d give the same respect to a woman.

She grit her teeth furiously. The idea that a dragon could be respected more than her on this island filled her entire being with anger. It wasn’t fair.

Hiccup walked into the bedroom behind her, closing the door. Astrid’s heart drummed painfully, and she thought longingly of the boat that Rosie had prepared for her. She could have taken it. She should have taken it. But the thought of bringing such shame on the Hofferson name was one she couldn’t bear.

“This is your room,” Hiccup said quietly.

“My room?” Astrid turned and looked him in the eye for the first time since they had abruptly kissed at the ceremony. “Not...ours?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, a light blush on his cheeks. Astrid found it rather awkward. “No, I can’t imagine you want to sleep with me. As in, in the same bed! Thor, I’m not even - not even talking about…”

He trailed off, coughing into his fist and averting his eyes.

Astrid bit her lip, unsure of what to say. She hadn’t considered that he would give her a choice.

“But this is your room, isn’t it? Your father’s before you?”

“Yeah. It’s okay, though. The bed is new and fresh. I made it myself - not that it matters. The point is, you can take it.”

“Kicking my chief out of his own room would be...dishonorable.” She took a deep breath and sat down. “You may stay.”

Her permission sounded more like a demand, and she thought she saw the briefest flash of a smile on his face, but it was gone so soon that she must have imagined it. He sat down next to her hesitantly, clearly nervous about crossing the line.

Frankly, Astrid found his hesitancy made her feel safe.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Every few seconds Astrid wanted to say something, anything, to get rid of the torturous silence, but every time she opened her mouth to speak, the words died on her tongue. She knew an injustice had been done upon her when she was forced to marry a man she didn’t know. But it was the first time she considered it unfair for him as well. What made her certain that he had wanted to marry a woman he didn’t know?

Astrid looked at him, really looked at him, and felt unsure. He was an attractive man, to put it simply. With a sharp - sharp - jawline, striking emerald eyes, and auburn hair that fell into his eyes, she could gaze at him for hours if it was appropriate. It wasn’t unlikely that he had been courting someone before this.

“I’m not your chief, right?”

“What?” She snapped out of her daydreaming in an instant, looking away to pretend like she hadn’t been looking at him. 

“I’m not your chief. You’re not a Berkian.”

Astrid frowned, not having expected to hear such harsh words so soon. And not from him. She had figured the people would not accept her right away, but would her husband resent her because of her blood too? That was hardly fair.

Hiccup’s eyes widened at her dejected look. “That’s not what I meant. I mean - I just thought...I thought you’d want to remain loyal to your own tribe. You don’t have to think of me as your chief just because I’m your husband. I don’t want to be - ” here he winced - “forceful.”

Astrid breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re really not like most vikings, are you?”

Hiccup laughed, an open laugh that didn’t sound too horrible. “No, but I’ve learned to be okay with it.” He gazed at her hopefully. “Will you be? Okay with it, with me.”

“That’s…” She bit her lip, thinking carefully. “Don’t ask me tonight. Ask me...later.”

He gave her a long, hard look, but nodded. “That’s reasonable.”

With that, they both stood up, and Hiccup stepped out to change into his clothes, leaving her to do the same.

Astrid stared at the door. She didn’t feel...wooed. Or even understood. Nothing in her indicated that she could ever love the chief of Berk.

But marrying wouldn’t be the worst decision of her life.

------------------------------------------------

The Day After They Slept Together

“You know, I’ve been wondering for ages what that noodle has been hiding.”

“Ruffnut,” Astrid said sternly. “I hardly think that’s appropriate.”

“Which is precisely why we’re in your house, and not the Great Hall. So?”

Astrid sighed, exasperated. “I never should have told you we were planning to do it yesterday.”

“Yeah,” Ruff snorted, “You really shouldn’t have.”

She sighed, blowing on her bangs childishly and leaning against the wall. “He was...nice about it.”

Ruff whistled. “That bad, huh?”

“I didn’t say it was bad...”

“There is no good meaning to what you said.”

“I don’t know, Ruffnut!” Astrid slid down the wall dramatically until she was on her knees. “You’re the only person I can talk to about this, but even then I can’t find the words for it. It was good.” At Ruffnut’s dubious look, she doubled down. “It was really good. I don’t have anything to compare to, but it felt good. And that was more than I needed. The point is to conceive an heir.”

All of a sudden, Ruff’s eyes narrowed. It was an unusual look for her - in the few months Astrid had known her, the other woman had rarely ever been angry or upset. “He didn’t pester you about this, did he? He didn’t force you?”

“No! Gods, no.” She took her hand and tugged so she’d sit down. “I brought it up, and asked him if he wanted to, and so we did. It was fine. It was good.”

“No one who actually had a good experience says that, Astrid,” said Ruffnut, giving her a deadpan look. 

“What do you want me to say? How magnificent and thrilling the experience was? Of course I can’t, there were no feelings behind it.”

Well, Astrid thought privately, that wasn’t entirely true. There had definitely been a slight bit of sadness. She had imagined that her first time would be, at the very least, with someone she loved. She hadn’t needed it to be amazing, as long as it had been special. But her and Hiccup...what they had done last night had been duty, not love. It struck her as tragic, as much as she tried to get the thought out of her head.

Still, there was no reason to tell Ruffnut that, so she put on a smile and changed the subject.

------------------------------------------------

The First Fight

Hiccup had always struck Astrid as...calm. He didn’t act on his first emotion (which was a stark difference from his childhood, as Snotlout and Fishlegs had told her). He tried to find the good side to every situation, and he rarely got upset. Anger never clouded his judgement.

She must have caught him on an off day, then.

Astrid knew there was something wrong when he came in and didn’t bother to spare her a glance before going up to their room to change. Usually, they would exchange meaningless niceties, while, while grating, had become a part of her routine. Still, she brushed the uneasy feeling off and told herself that he was probably just tired.

When Hiccup came back down, she chanced a glance at his eyes, and was stricken by the intensity in them.

He sat down on the chair opposite from her and without missing a beat, asked, “What did you tell my people today?”

The possessive way he spoke was the final warning, and Astrid got ready to defend herself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hoark said you told them we were going to war.”

Astrid frowned, leaning back. “I did not say that. I said it was likely, but I certainly did not give a declaration in that way.”

“You,” he spoke with barely contained venom, “are the chieftess. Everything you say is a declaration. I’ve had to tell everyone that you were exaggerating.”

“I - so what if they did take it as a declaration? It is the truth. I believe in telling the truth. We probably will be going to war with the Lava Louts, so people should be prepared -”

“That wasn’t your choice to make,” Hiccup snapped, and for the first time since she had met him, Astrid felt some passion from him towards her. Too bad it was negative.

Digging her nails into her skin under the table, Astrid answered in her most monotone voice. “I apologize. I did not realize that talking to your people would be against the rules.”

Hiccup had looked like he was going to fire back, but instead, he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, oddly reminding her of a blubbering fish.

“Is that what you think I’m doing right now?” he finally muttered. “That I’m setting down the law? That I’m restricting you?”

Even before she spoke, she knew it was a dirty blow, but she couldn’t help it.

“Well, that is what people do with their prizes, isn’t it?”

She knew it wasn’t fair. She knew that Hiccup had never treated her like a prize, or anything less than her own person. But the conversation she had had with the people today had been the closest she had ever felt to them, with a similar sense of pride. She had felt like a Berkian. And Hiccup was once again telling her that she wasn’t.

Hiccup stood up so quickly that the chair fell back behind him. “Hel of a prize, Hofferson. I thought they were supposed to be rewarding.”

Astrid scoffed, standing up as well. “You don’t even deny it. You don’t like me talking to the people, you just want me sitting in here everyday, smiling and knitting a-and cooking you a nice dinner, isn’t that it?”

“That is exactly it!” Hiccup said, his words laced with cutting sarcasm. “Didn’t you read the prisoner’s pamphlet the night of our wedding? Or did you miss it under the guide on how to act like a victim?”

“Oh, right, because I should be happy! I should be thanking you, Chief.” She spat out his title like it was a curse. “For giving me the honor of marrying me and taking me away from my home!”

“You think I wanted this!?”

“No, Hiccup, clearly you didn’t!”

“Oh, for the love of - I don’t want you telling people unconfirmed things so that they don’t go around calling my wife a liar and a gossip!”

“I’d rather be a gossip than an enemy!” she cried.

“Dammit, Astrid, I’m looking out for your reputation!”

“Well I think you’re just looking out for yours!”

They both glared at each other. Astrid realized her fists were clenched, while Hiccup’s hair was unruly and there was a fresh cut on his neck.

She swallowed, not liking the feeling of her anger thawing out. She wanted to be angry. This was the most passionate she had felt in ages. Anger had always been her strong suit. Still, she couldn’t in good conscience ignore the cut either.

So in the most uncaring tone she could muster, Astrid said, “You should probably go get that checked by Gothi.“

“What are you - oh.” Hiccup put a hand over the cut as though she hadn’t already seen it. “I...I meant to go anyway.”

“Then go.”

Hiccup stared at her for a few seconds with an unreadable expression. “Yeah. I think I should.”

He brushed past her, their shoulders knocking into each other. Her heart felt...heavy, and when she heard the door shut, she desperately wanted to go open it and run after him, just to yell some more.

That couldn’t be what love felt like. No, this was just her anger issues. They had always been pretty bad.

Astrid sunk back into her chair, and buried her face in her hands, wondering why arguing with him had been more pleasant than any nicety they had ever exchanged.

------------------------------------------------

That Time They Got Drunk

Hiccup hiccupped, and the sight and irony of it sent Astrid over the edge. She giggled, her head falling on Ruffnut’s shoulder. Ruff shrugged her off, but only so she could stand up and pull Astrid to her feet to dance.

“Here’s to...er…” Snotlout looked around for help but when no one offered any, he shrugged and went on. “Here’s to Berk’s nine hundredth anniversary!”

“It’s Berk’s four hundredth anniversary, you knucklehead,” said Fishlegs, who definitely held his alcohol better than the rest of them.

“Come o-o-o-n, Astrid, you can dance better than that!”

“Here’s to the greatest chief Berk has ever seen!” Tuffnut shouted. Him and Snotlout hollered and congratulated Hiccup with affectionate punches. While usually more serious than this, Hiccup laughed, taking another swig of his mead. 

The music that they were playing in the Great Hall seemed to grow louder. Astrid, who had grumbled about the dress she had to wear only a few hours before, now twirled magnificently in it, her steps becoming lighter and her rather mesmerizing dance getting the attention of several people across the room, including Hiccup, who was all of a sudden looking at her rather appreciatively.

“Here’s to...here’s to Gobber!” Snotlout shouted, looking around wildly. The man in question was fast asleep, slumped over Grump in the middle of the hall.

Astrid’s eyes locked with Hiccup’s, and her heart pounded. His gaze was intense, and something inside her thrummed with anticipation. There was something intoxicating about having the most powerful man in the room watching you with such a hungry gaze. And there was nothing anyone could say about it either, he was her husband.

“Here’s to Astrid’s dancing skills!” Snotlout cheered, sloshing a bit of mead over himself.

She finished grandly and got similar cheers of approval. Only Hiccup remained quiet, and their eyes stayed glued on each other, drinking up all the mead allowed them to see.

“That was amazing, Astrid.” Fishlegs smiled. “Very fluid.”

“Yeah, I bet Hiccup thinks so too,” Snotlout muttered not-so-quietly with a snicker.

The two of them broke out of their trance and shot similar dry looks to Snotlout, who shrugged. “What? I’m just saying, Hiccup thinks you’re beautiful, Astrid.” Then he laughed as though he had just said the funniest thing ever. “Isn’t that right, Hiccup?”

Everyone looked at the chief, who looked up at his wife.

“Of course I think she’s beautiful,” Hiccup said easily, and Astrid’s cheeks flushed.

Hiccup and Astrid left much later, still heavily drunk. Tuff and Ruff had kept them drinking, with their constant dares and challenges. Stumbling and giggling at nothing in particular, they finally reached their hut. 

Hiccup placed his hand on the handle, but before he had a chance to open it, Astrid grabbed his arm and tugged him back.

He looked at her, completely bewildered. “What?”

Feeling ridiculously bold and giddy, Astrid leaned in as close as she could and whispered, “I did that dance for you.”

Immediately, Hiccup’s eyes darkened, and he trapped her against the walls of the hut, a hand on each side, just as she had planned. His gaze went from her eyes, slowly, teasingly down to her lips. Astrid saw his throat bob, but without another moment of hesitation, he leaned down and kissed her.

It wasn’t their first kiss. But, Astrid knew as she tugged him closer, this was what she had wanted to feel the first time she kissed her husband. He wasn’t suffocating, but he was there, overwhelming her senses. The quiet possessive growl he let out drove her crazy, but Astrid remembered to pull back for air. She let herself have a second before kissing him again. One of his hands snaked around her waist and pulled her even closer, before he pulled back only to pepper hot kisses down her neck.

Astrid let her head fall back against the wall, panting excitedly.

They went inside, only pulling away from each other to take off articles of clothing…

Astrid climbed into the bed, with Hiccup only a few steps behind her…

She gripped the sheets in excited frustration...

Her head hit the pillow….

And the two of them were asleep in minutes.

Turned out, they really were very bad at holding their mead.

------------------------------------------------

The First Time They Were In Sync

Spitelout’s voice grated on Astrid so much that she was ready to jump across the table and smack the man. Gods, he ran his mouth as though he actually had anything meaningful to say. And Sven! Odin help her, the man only saw fit to screech at the most unimportant of issues. 

“I say we cut them off entirely!”

Hiccup sighed, and she saw his lips twitch in annoyance. “As I’ve said about six times” - not that anyone was counting - “that seems more like a punishment than a compromise.”

Astrid could predict what Spitelout was going to say next the second he opened his mouth.

“Vikings do not compromise! That isn’t our way!”

Astrid stared sadly at Stormfly, the Nadder she had bonded with recently. Flying, surprisingly, was an extremely fun pastime, it was no wonder Hiccup did it so often. She longed to get on Stormfly’s back and fly away from this council meeting. It wasn’t like anyone but her husband cared what she had to say anyway.

“Just because something has been done a certain way for ages, does not mean that it’s how it has to be done. Just take -”

“The dragons, Spitelout,” she drawled. “You do have one, do you not? Or is it a sheep you so joyously fly? If we stuck to what Vikings did, then we’d have that dragon’s head on a stick.”

“Exactly the point, if a little crude.” Hiccup snapped his fingers and pointed dorkily. “We’re friends with the dragons, and better off because of it.”

“The dragons,” Spitelout began nastily, “are the reason why other tribes mistrust us.”

“And they are also the reason that none of them would actually be mad enough to attack us. Which means there is no need to punish them for something they haven’t and won’t do.”

Hiccup looked like he was desperately trying to hide a smile. “I don’t think I have anything to add to that. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I believe I have to attend to the forge, and Astrid - have you done the perimeter check today? You should get on that.”

Astrid, who had certainly done the perimeter check that day, stood up eagerly. “Yes, I should definitely get to that. Very important business.”

Hiccup disguised his laugh with a cough. 

“The council is adjourned.”

------------------------------------------------

When Hiccup Got Injured

“Get in, get in, get in! What happened!?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, honestly,” Hiccup said, waving a dismissing hand as though his armor and tunic weren’t torn and there wasn’t a cut on his torso. “Just a wild dragon acting...well, wild.”

“I’m not a medic, Hiccup. Why didn’t you go straight to Gothi?” She directed him to sit on one of the chairs before using one of the fire prevention stations that Hiccup kept around to fill a bucket with water.

“Because it’s a small cut?”

Astrid sat in front of him, hesitantly wetting a rag before pressing it to his torso. Hiccup hissed in pain and she winced. It hardly seemed like a “small cut.”

They sat in silence as Astrid dabbed the wound gently, hoping Hiccup wouldn’t realize how thoroughly inexperienced she was at this sort of thing. She bit her lip and continued awkwardly pressing the wound until their eyes met.

Hiccup smiled, genuinely. “Thank you, Astrid.”

She found herself smiling a little too. For some reason, the typical uncomfortable tension wasn’t in the air tonight, and Astrid felt a little...relaxed. There was a comforting aura in the room that she faintly realized had not been there before he came in. It was strange, almost as if him being there put her at ease. But that sounded ridiculous, they weren’t even friends.

Astrid stood up, brushing the distracting thoughts out of her head. She started to head for the stairs, until Hiccup quietly murmured, “Astrid?”

She turned around. “Yes?”

Hiccup looked like he was struggling to ask her something, but so quickly that she nearly missed it, he asked, “Is it later?”

Astrid could have pretended she didn’t know what he was talking about, but the second he said it, she knew. She knew he was referring to the night of their wedding, when she told him to ask her later whether or not she’d be okay with him. With all of it.

She had a fleeting fantasy, one where she said that she was more than okay with him. She was happy! She was in love with him! She would embrace him and they would go up to their room together, lay by each other, and bask in each other’s love.

“Not yet,” she responded truthfully.

Hiccup did not look disappointed. He did not look happy. But he looked like he understood, and nodded. They exchanged a meaningful look, before Hiccup stood up, yawning. “I actually have to go back to the forge, I have a few things to work on.”

Astrid hesitated only a second before blurting out, “Do you need help?”

His head snapped up to her gazing hopefully, fiddling with the wet rag still in her hands. 

“I’d appreciate it.”

Astrid smiled again.

I hope you liked it! Remember, in these moments, they don’t love each other, they barely know each other. For the cute romance, I’d read the previous two chapters. 

Until next time!

[absynthc]

BASICS.

Full name: Sofi Sayid, but she hasn’t gone by that in almost two decades. Nicknames (if any): Ripley to most. Rip to a rare few. Gender / Pronouns: Cis female & she/her Classification: Human Abilities (if any): She wishes. Age: Thirty-six Occupation: Farmer. Dealer.

PERSONALITY.

Traits: Strategic, blunt, secretive, sarcastic, arrogant, obsessive, loyal. MBTI: INTJ – The Architect Zodiac: Capricorn. Character Inspiration: Theo Crain ( The Haunting of Hill House ), Lia Haddock ( Limetown ), Tommy Shelby ( Peaky Blinders ), James “Sawyer” Ford ( Lost )

Content warnings for suicidal ideation, drugs, addiction, grief, death, depression, implication of self-harm, allusions to police brutality.

AESTHETIC.

Sitting on your balcony alone, smoking a cigarette at one in the morning. Biting into a ripe peach, the juice dripping down your chin. Collecting old sci-fi movies from before the world burnt.  The smell of rose water and honey. Calling the voicemail of someone gone just to hear the sound of their voice. Hiding your profits in the walls of your apartment. Biting down on your knuckles to muffle a scream. The crispness of cold sheets. Flickering neon signs pointing to narrow back alleys. Always paying in cash. Always.

(BRIEF) HISTORY.

tl;dr everyone rip has ever loved has either died or gone missing, and she’s convinced she has the power to talk to the dead, she just needs to figure out how to “activate” it, so that’s why she’s trying to amass wealth via dealing synth (my fun lil punny drug idea for metropolis) because money = power baybeeeeeee

Ripley grew up as a part of the working class of District Two. She’d never met her father, who disappeared mere weeks before she was born. No one knows why. It was as if he vanished into thin air, and her mother, Nairi, never talked about him.

Nairi worked at the Farm, and she did so tirelessly, legitimately believing the old adage that if you work hard, it will lead to a better life. Ripley saw time and time again how Nairi tried so hard to do everything right, do everything honestly, and how she was rewarded for her sincerity with scraps, while the Chancellor and her Watchers paraded around the city like tyrants.

And the ultimate cherry on top came when Nairi died in an accident on the Farm, killed by a wound that festered, by an infection in her blood, something that never would have happened had they been in a different district. But Ripley wasn’t able to grieve. At fourteen, she was an orphan, with no means of supporting herself, and all she could do was take up her mother’s job at the Farm in the hopes that one day, she’d make it out of here. One day, she wouldn’t have to do this anymore.

She was twenty-three when she met Joy, a technician at the Farm. It was a short courtship that led to a long marriage, and for a while, things were better. Ripley started getting used to the idea of happiness, started believing it was possible for her... only to have it all ripped away. The Watchers came, ransacked their apartment, took Joy away, interrogated Ripley for hours, told her that her wife was a traitor to Metropolis. After that day, she never saw Joy again.

Until she did, one night at the Boneyard. After her mom died, she started coming here, convincing herself she could feel her mother’s presence. And then, she started feeling Joy’s presence too, and that was all the proof she needed to herself that the one person she’d truly loved, the only hope at happiness she ever thought she’d get, was dead.

She started using. More than just casually, as she’d done her whole life. Methodical, addictive, meant to numb every feeling she’d ever had. And she had every intention of wasting away the rest of her miserable life until – a rumor overheard at Bliss, the idea that you could trigger powers within you...now that captured her attention.

She was singleminded in her pursuit of her “power” – which, she believes, is necromancy, the capacity to speak to the dead – because all she wanted was to say one last goodbye to the people she’s lost. It’s selfish, really, but she convinced herself, maybe she can use it for the greater good. To understand the future is to understand the past, and secrets disappear from the world with the dead.

Ripley was fucking tired. Tired of being a cog in the wheel of a broken machine, tired of being stepped on by the boot of the world, and in order to get where she needed to go, she needed power, money, and influence. What better way to do that than to control the stream of drugs into Metropolis? It was a slippery slope from using to dealing, but she made the most of the fall, and now, she’s created a tiny little monopoly for herself, pocketing almost all of the profits and trying not to get too greedy. Because it’s all in service of a larger goal, even if she refuses to acknowledge that she threw off one set of chains just to put on another. New game, same rules, and the stakes are much, much higher.

FULL BIOGRAPHY HERE.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

THE CLIENT’S ALWAYS RIGHT – This is one of Ripley’s regulars. Maybe it’s her favorite customer, someone she has an easy repartee with. Maybe it’s someone Ripley feels conflicted about selling to, for whatever reason. Maybe it’s someone she cannot fucking stand, but hell, they’re paying her, so what does it matter. Regardless, give Rip some clients and populate her business!! Walter White, who?

RUBBING ELBOWS WITH THE RIGHT PEOPLE – Ripley’s trying to advance her own agenda in terms of activating the power she believes she has. Maybe this person has information she needs, and she’s willing to pay to get it. Maybe she thinks she can manipulate this person to get to someone she actually wants to meet. At the end of the day, Ripley’s taking her first stab at “playing the game” of Metropolis, and boy is she vastly underprepared for what that means.

FELLOW FARMER – Ripley still works the fields as a cover for what she’s actually doing. This can be someone she’s known for years, maybe even her whole life, or it can be someone who just started working here last week. I’d imagine Ripley’s one of those people that’s become a staple of the Farm, someone everyone thinks will always be there and someone who tries to take the new kids under her wing a little bit, give them the advice she never got.

(WO)MAN OF GOD – While she isn’t inherently religious, Ripley has a strong affinity towards belief systems, and she believes with absolute certainty in her bones that she’s right about how she sees the world. Most specifically when it comes to the idea of her having powers. This is someone who believes the same thing as her or could be inclined to be swayed over to Ripley’s way of thinking. Maybe a new friend, a welcome reprieve from the cynicism Inkwell is always giving her. Someone who’ll go down this rabbit hole with her.

HEADCANONS.

Ripley named herself after Sigourney Weaver’s iconic Ellen Ripley of the Alien franchise. It was the only movie they had at home growing up, and Rip watched it again and again, can still recite it verbatim to this day.

Ripley’s got a fair amount of tattoos, all of them courtesy of Inkwell. No, she will not tell you why she got them. Sometimes a cow’s just a cow.

Since starting her little drug empire, Rip’s developed a gnarly caffeine addiction. It wasn’t something she could afford as a lowly farm worker, but now that she knows what a steaming cup of freshly brewed coffee tastes like, she’s absolutely done for.

Ripley’s hair is always up if she needs to focus or if she’s working. A tight, sleek ponytail, a low bun, but most commonly, a long braid down her spine, just like how Nairi would do it for her when she was a young girl. She rarely, if ever, wears her hair down, despite it being so long.

There’s stray cat in her apartment complex that Ripley stared feeding. Since he’s so orange and so massive, she started calling him Cheeto. Cheeto now has his own litter box in Ripley’s apartment... and yet, she still calls him a stray and refuses to admit she owns a fucking cat.

Ripley takes pretty good care of herself physically. Her favorite form of exercise is boxing, and she doesn’t get nearly enough practice with sparring partners, just punches a bag she set up behind her building, so if you’re trying to Fight, hit me up.

And last but... not... least.... can’t sit properly in a chair because she’s gay....

[paranymf]

Get This Right

For Hiccstrid week 2020, hosted by @shipmistress9

Hiccup Haddock is in love with Astrid Hofferson and after half a year of courting, he finally gathered enough courage to propose. But will he get it right?

Set in the 1820s, but no intentions of historical accuracy. Inspired by the song Get This Right, one of the outtakes from Frozen II.

Read this on AO3.

Hiccup looked at himself in the mirror, nodded and closed his eyes. “I’m going to do this. I can do this. I’m going to ask the most beautiful woman of Berk to marry me.” Hiccup opened his eyes again and looked in the mirror. He saw a tall guy with an untamed mop of auburn locks. The green eyes looked frightened and the smile under his freckled nose was little but convincing. The suit that he wore was slightly too big. His mother, Valka had pulled one of his father’s old suits from the attic and brought it to the tailor to fit it to Hiccup’s size. Even though Hiccup was only a head’s length shorter than Stoick, his late father, Stoick was bulky and muscular and Hiccup was… not. More accurately: quite the opposite of Stoick. When Hiccup looked at his left foot, he started to fiddle with the pants, maybe they could cover up the loss of a limb there. “Hey, stop the fiddling and let me get a good look at you.” Valka just walked into the room and Hiccup turned around. Valka straightened his jacket, his pants and his shirt. She took a step backwards and smiled at him. “You got the ring?” Hiccup crossed his hand over his heart, right where the pocket of his jacket was with the little box.  “Yes,” he said breathlessly. Valka’s eyes started to water. “Oh, how I wish your father could’ve seen this. My little boy is going to ask someone to marry him!” Valka pulled Hiccup in for a hug and he patted his mother on her back and rolled his eyes. “You’re already assuming she says yes.” Valka pulled back. “Why wouldn’t she? You’re a match made in Valhalla!” “Yeah, but what if she says n-” Valka put her hand before his mouth. “Don’t,” she said and smiled. “Just enjoy the evening with Astrid and seize your moment when you propose, okay?” Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Promise me?” Valka tilted his chin, forcing him to look at her as the light of the candle danced in her sparkling eyes. “Alright,” he said. Valka smiled. “That’s my boy. Now, where is that coachman? I thought I ordered him to be here at six thirty and it’s six forty five already.” Valka left the room and Hiccup was left alone to his thoughts again. He pulled out the box and opened it. He had thought about it a lot, but he knew Astrid wouldn’t care much for a big sparkly ring loaded with diamonds. Just to make sure he cared enough for her, he got one beautiful shining diamond on it. It was small, but it was beautiful.  Just as Hiccup was ready to leave the room, something big, black and fluffy stormed in and jumped on Hiccup. “Hey,” he smiled as a big black dog tried to lick Hiccup’s face. “Toothless, be careful! Yes buddy, I love you too, but we wouldn’t-oh no!” When Toothless adjusted his foot to support himself better on Hiccup, Hiccup had gotten hold of the ring and it fell out of his hands. Hiccup saw it roll on the floor and it disappeared under the drawer. Hiccup dropped to his knees and looked under the drawer for the ring. Just as he located it, he immediately tried to grab it with his hand, but missed. The ring rolled further and it stopped right beside the drawer, right where Toothless was. The dog was interested by the sparkling diamond and sniffed the ring. “Nononono, Toothless, that’s not edible.” Hiccup pushed Toothless aside and grabbed the ring from the floor. With his jacket he polished the diamond and quickly put it back in the box. “What am I going to do Toothless? How will I be able to propose if I can’t keep the ring safe?” Toothless turned his head as if to say ‘I don’t know, it was your idea’. Hiccup smiled and shook his head. “Yeah, it was.” 

“Good evening, Mr Haddock.” Hiccup looked up from his menu and saw Astrid Hofferson standing beside the table. “Astrid!” Hiccup nearly fell off his chair when he jumped up to get her chair. “Oh, please, Hiccup, don’t be such a gentleman.” Hiccup smiled. “But I want tonight to be perfect, please?” Astrid smiled and let him. She looked absolutely stunning tonight, as always. However, distracted by Astrid’s beauty, Hiccup took twice to actually grab the chair and pull it back for her. He smiled awkwardly and sat down quickly. He put up his menu quickly and tried to pull himself together. He closed his eyes. I’m gonna get this right, he repeated to himself in his head. “Hiccup?” Astrid pulled him out of his thoughts and looked at him. He gave her a questionable look. “What in Thor’s name are you doing?” Hiccup realised he was hiding in his menu, eyes closed and mouthing some words. It must have looked utterly ridiculous. He shook his weirdness off him and smiled at Astrid. “Sorry, don’t mind that.” Astrid raised her eyebrow, but decided not to question it any further. 

The whole evening was a mess, according to Hiccup. His wine tasting went horrible, his cutlery slipped out his hands multiple times and they hadn’t started dancing yet. “Oh, please, Hiccup, I’d love it if we would dance! Come on!” And Astrid pulled him from his chair and dragged him onto the dancefloor before he could protest. “Astrid,” Hiccup whispered, as he felt utterly uncomfortable. “My leg-” “Don’t worry, we’ll take it easy. They won’t notice a thing.” Hiccup bit his lip, but gave in. They danced for a few songs and he actually felt a bit more relaxed. But then, a swing song started and Astrid still wanted to continue. Hiccup tried to get along with Astrid, but he kept stepping on her toes. After a few painful looks, they decided to stop dancing. “I’m so sorry, Astrid. I didn-” “I don’t want to hear your excuses, Hiccup, it’s my fault we continued.” She stopped at their table and turned to him. “I had a great time.” She tiptoed and gave Hiccup a short kiss on his cheek. He smiled. “Come on, let’s have dessert!”

Hiccup paid for dinner, which Astrid insisted on sharing, but he wouldn’t have it. Living with her uncle wasn’t the best, especially since he didn’t earn enough money for them both. Astrid worked as a secretary at the town hall to get some extra money for the household, but it wasn’t much. So Hiccup insisted he would pay for this dinner. Especially because of the occasion, but she didn’t know that. 

After dinner, only disaster followed. As he held the door for Astrid, he was shaking. Just as she was about to walk through the door, Hiccup accidentally let go. Astrid’s reflexes were amazing so she stopped the door, but Hiccup only felt more embarrassment. After he apologized a million times, he walked right into a lamp post. “Hiccup?” Astrid asked after he shook the embarrassment off him. “Yes?” “Are you alright?” “Yes, ofcourse!” “You’ve been acting funny all night. Are you sure you wouldn’t go home and get some rest? That was one nasty smack on your head.” “Don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s just - nevermind. I wanted to take you somewhere.” Astrid smiled.  “Of course you did.” Hiccup raised his eyebrow, but didn’t question Astrid’s weird remark. He held out his arm and Astrid slid her hand through it. In her sparkling eyes he saw the dancing light of the street lantern and his heart filled with warmth. Yes, even though the evening was a disaster, this was going to be perfect. 

In the distance he saw the gazebo. “Hiccup?” Astrid looked confused. “Where are you taking us?” “This- ahum- This is a place I haven’t been to since my father died.” Astrid said nothing and looked around. Hiccup remembered the garden just as beautiful as this. “Every Saturday, we went to these gardens. My father would come straight from his Saturday morning meeting and my mother would bring the picnic basket. When I was younger, my mother asked the maid to make some snacks and sandwiches. As I grew older, I prepared the food for the picnic, so everyone did their part for the family time.” “What did your father do, then?” “If the meeting would run late, he would stop it when it was time for him to go. Only once a week this would happen, and never during any other meeting he would stop the meeting, but this one he would. Or, in better words, they would continue without him.”  Astrid smiled. “And you haven’t been here in seven years.” Hiccup nodded. “After he died, my mother and I never felt like going because…” “It would only bring up memories.” Astrid finished his sentence. Hiccup nodded quietly. Astrid looked around and took up all the beauty in the gardens. Hiccup admired her with a smile and took her hand. “Come, I have to show you this gazebo.” “A- what?” “A gazebo.” Astrid’s eyes lit up when she saw it. “Oh, Hiccup, this is beautiful!” Astrid let go of his hand and ran up to the gazebo. Hiccup, again amazed by Astrid’s beauty, thought he had to step on the chairs already but missed the step and almost fell forward. He quickly recovered and this times really walked up the stairs. “I love it.” Astrid took his hands, tiptoed again and gave him a kiss on his lips. Hiccup smiled.  “I love you,” he said. “I love you too.” They both smiled at each other. “This is actually the place were my father asked my mother to marry him.” Astrid’s smile grew. “He did?” “Yes. Mom told me he gave this big speech about love and she didn’t understand a thing what he said. Turns out he was really nervous and didn’t really know how to do it. She wanted to get a better look at the view of the garden and then turned around. There he was, on his knees, with a ring and questionable look.” As Astrid chuckled and looked at the view, Hiccup smoothly tried to get the box with the ring from his pocket, only to find it wasn’t there. Did he put it in the pockets of his pants? Another pocket of his jacket? He slowly started to panic when he couldn’t find it. Astrid felt his distress and carefully squeezed his hand. “Hiccup, are you sure you are okay?” 

He ruined it. He lost the box with the ring and now he couldn’t properly propose to Astrid. He completely ruined it and now she would be completely disappointed. She probably already had a hunch and then nothing would happen, because he lost the ring. He could slap himself in the face right now, but all he did was freeze in panic, standing completely still. Coming back to his senses, he looked apologetic at Astrid. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, turned around and started to run away. “Hiccup, wait!” On the last step of the gazebo he stopped and turned around. Astrid was on her knee and helt out a box with a ring, his ring. “Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, will you marry me?”  Hiccup was completely gobsmacked. The first question that went through his head was where did she get the box? The second was did she knew all the time that I was going to propose? And the third was is Astrid Hofferson asking me to marry her?  But then, after he processed that all, he couldn’t care less. He wanted to ask her to marry him, but he completely ruined it. She saved him. As always. He smiled, walked up the gazebo again. Hiccup dropped to his knees, took her hands in his. “Yes. Yes, my dearest Astrid Hofferson. I will definitely marry you.” 

[fictionalnormalcy]

Face Amidst the Smoke Ch. 8

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1435 Characters: Astrid Hofferson, Hiccup Haddock Summary: Astrid is paired for a project with someone who she is definitely not eager to work with. Haddock has a reputation of being a bad student, just a bad role model in general. But in being forced to work with one of the worst seniors in the school, she comes to see what is under this bad boy’s exterior… and she may be getting in over her head.

Unlikely

He wore that very same cap on his head. Lopsided, but it must’ve been part of the uniform. He sat at a high desk, though not tall enough to tower over anyone. He gave no flicker of recognition as I waved, and instead he crossed his arms. He wore a collared dark brown shirt with the same hammer stitched into the fabric at the right side. There was a plastic nametag right above the symbol with Hiccup written in dark type.

Credit to: lyallwolfart

“How can I help you?” He asked again.

I had to admit, it was strange seeing him without the leather jacket. It let me see his pale arms. A bruise apparent on his forearm as he continued to glare.

“You don’t know me?”

He snorted. “So what? What are you fucking here for?” 

“Well,” I gestured to his shirt, “I found your place of work.” 

“You had to pull some detective work to find out that shit.”

“I’m glad I found you.”

“Well I’m not, if you don’t have a car that needs to get repaired or schedule an appointment, you may leave the premises.”

“Now that I’m here, we should at least try to-”

“You found my work. Now get out.” 

“I was thinking, that maybe until we get this project finished we could develop a schedule and go over to each other’s-”

“This couldn’t have waited until tonight?”

“There’s no one in here right now.” I reasoned. 

He scowled. “But I’m still on the clock. I don’t get paid to listen to schoolwork crap.” 

“You’re acting as if this is going to take the rest of the day,”

“With your rambling it probably will. Get out and you can try calling when I’m not supposed to stuck behind this stupid desk.” 

“Don’t think you’re getting rid of me so easily Haddock, there’s a reason why-”

He slammed a sign down right in front of me, on the verge of teetering off the desk to the floor. He pointed to each word with an angry finger.

“I know you can read Hofferson. We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. You don’t have a car, so you can just-”

“Hiccup!” A man with a grease-stained cap limbered into the room through a side door. “The Larson’s car i’ tae be picked up first thing Monday and it’s still nae finished!”

“Yeah so what?” His eyes drifted lazily to the side.

The man scratched at his blonde mustache as he pulled a clipboard off a wall behind Haddock. Finger running down to find something scribbled on the sheet. 

He sighed. “Lad he wants you to do the work. Specifically requested yae.”

“Well we can’t all get what we want can we?” He spun the desk chair to look at him. 

“Get tae work on it, now.” He pointed to the side door.

He looked at me as he climbed out of the chair. “Last chance to get the fuck out.” 

His boss didn’t seem to notice me. He continued to flick through the sheets on the clipboard, tsking to himself twice before placing it back on its hook. Then he did a once-over once he noticed me still glued to the desk. 

“He didnae help yae did he?”

“I came to-”

“Customer service is nae one a’ his strongest suits, bu’ better him than me. He can tolerate te ingrates without snapping at them. Do yae have an appointment lass?”

I shook my head. 

“I’m Astrid Hofferson.”I held out my hand for him to shake. “I’m a classmate of Hiccup’s. We got paired for a project.” 

“Yae planning on working on it today?” 

“In all honesty sir he didn’t even know I was coming.”

He chuckled. “He didn’t give you this address, did he? Well that’s Hiccup fer yae. Stubborn lad, just like his father. I’m Gordon Beicher, but yae can call me Gobber. I’m Hiccup’s godfather.”

“Nice to meet you.” I smiled. “I needed to meet with him over the weekend so we could get some progress done, and I remembered seeing that cap in his car, so I figured he worked here. Luckily he was actually in today.” 

“He’s in here more often than I’d like him tae be. One a’ my hardest workers, ‘nd it’s hard tae keep him tae a schedule because he shows up at any time he likes, but if yae’d like I can dismiss him early so he can work on this with yae.”

“He seemed very intent on kicking me out just now.”

“Just needs a little persuadin’ lass.”

“Sir as far as I’ve noticed, you’re the only one he actually listens to.” 

“Haven’t had much luck with him have yae.”

I took a deep breath. “It’s been a stressful week, Mr. Gobber. However, I am very determined to make Haddock do his part until we get this done.”

“I can give yae his address, if yae like. That way yae’ll be able to work together on this project in a more private setting.”

“His address?” I asked for clarification.

“He doesnae live with me. Hasn’t fer some time now.”

“But he’s a minor, he’s supposed to-”

“Do yae know the lad smokes?”

“Isn’t a mystery in the slightest.” I shook my head. “Everyone on campus knows he smokes. Hiccup doesn’t bother to hide it.”

“I told him that as long as he smokes he cannae live under me roof.”

“And that prompted him to move out? How could his parents not have-”

“Neither his father or mother are around tae tell him what he shouldn’t be doing.” His face grew grim as he held out a slip of paper toward me.

I took it, reading the address and noting that it was a familiar street. A few blocks over from my own place of work. In the, more dangerous part of Berk. Gods. He really should be under Gobber’s roof. 

“So he isn’t living with his parents either.”

“Hiccup has claimed his independence.”

“Pardon me Mr. Gobber, but how can he afford this? Is he a full-time worker here at the shop?”

Recalling that he also owned a car, and from what I knew an expensive one at that. 

“As said, he comes in whene’er he wants. I pay him his hours, though there is someone helping him out.” His blue eyes seemed to darken. 

“Thank you anyway for the address, Mr. Gobber. I-”

“Gobber, lass. No need for mister.” 

“Could I have your phone number as well? I feel, that you’d tell me more than Hiccup ever would.”

Gobber grinned, exposing a silver tooth on his lower jaw.  “No problem with that either lass. Yer goin’ tae need someone tae keep me godson in line.”

“You know, it is funny that Hiccup listens to you more than his own parents.” 

Apparently, any mention of the parents seemed to dampen his mood. His smile disappeared, but he took out his cell phone and showed me his contact number. 

“Hopefully he can find a friend in yae Astrid. Come ‘round back. Time yae got some progress done on that project.”

I followed him through the side door to the expansive work space. There were about five cars spread out, two elevated, and there were clangs coming from a gleaming white Jeep. Some tables planted at different walls, and two red rollable large toolboxes. 

“Gobber, you tell that fucking Larson that the mechanics of the car is not where you store food!”

“What?” Gobber chuckled in amusement as we approached the Jeep. 

“Him or a troll stuffed a croissant near the air filter. Stale and dirty, and it’s,” He grunted, “not fucking coming out, DAMMIT!”

He pried it free, stretching his arm back to throw it into a trashcan at the garage door. 

“If there’s crumbs in there I am not vacuuming.”

“Is that all the maintenance needed?”

“Got it done. And why is she still here? She didn’t have an appointment.”

“Told me about yer group project.” He raised an eyebrow at him. 

He turned back to the hood. “Fucking great.” 

“I’ll give it a final check over. Yae can clock out and get to work on it. Give her a ride to the apartment.”

“Umm, why?”

“This isnae up for debate. Do it.” Glaring at him to intensify the command.

After a 60 second stare-off, Haddock sighed and ran a hand through his already messy hair. He made a show of removing his apron and shoving me aside to go hang it on a hook.

“Go wait for me at my car.” Forest green eyes locked contact with me. “Be there soon.” 

[fulltimeviking]

Hoppípolla

Summary: Hiccup is a semi-stressed out chief and Nuffink is just a hyper active ball of energy wanting to play in some rain puddles with his Dad - Takes place a year before the epilogue in httyd 3 and is based off of a Sigur Rós song. 

Imma be real with you chief - this is 100% unapologetic fluff, written purely for the reason that I just needed some more fluffy fics about the Haddock family in my life and decided to provide some myself no matter how badly written or rusty my fanfic writing skills are 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also forgive me if it seems a bit unpolished or kind of rushed, I’ve been trying to get this done for weeks and yesterday I finally put my foot down and decided I was going to finish it this week, and I managed to wrap it all up this evening. I’m also lowkey drugged up on medication atm so I wrote the last paragraph and edited the entire thing through half lidded eyes, so if you see a spelling mistake, that’s probably why. 

Anyway I could make up excuses about my writing and keep putting off posting this all day but I’m going to stfu now - I hope you like it!

“So you have all the plans? Nothing else you need or-” “I’ve got everything I need to start right here” Fishlegs patted the scrolls “I promise you’ve got nothing to worry about chief, I’ve got it all under control” “right” Hiccup sighed a little, another weight off his shoulders “great, thank you”. 

A passing storm had done some wreckage to a few houses and whatnot and everyone else had been preoccupied with their own reconstructions, the chief being left with the bulk of it all, but his council members had been willing to help out and for that he couldn’t be more grateful.

Nuffink was sat down fidgeting with the hem of his oversized tunic, swinging his legs on a chair ten times too big for him in the Ingerman’s living room, it wasn’t an anomaly for the chief and chieftess to bring the kids on errands with them and at this point Zephyr and Nuffink were fully accustomed to it. That didn’t stop them from being boring sometimes though, especially when the rain had calmed down and there were over a hundred puddles outside with his name on them. “Nuffink?” Hiccup called from the door “we’re done now!” the little boy perked up and slid down from the seat, running to the to meet his father who picked him up and rested him on his hip “now what do we say?” he asked him as they stepped outside. Nuffink looked blank for a second “umm- oh, thank you for letting me sit in your house Uncle Fishlegs”

“Awwww the pleasure is all mine little guy” Fishlegs cooed “you’re welcome round any time” “thank you again” Hiccup said “they just grow up so fast don’t they?” the ingerman carried on “Little kids, I swear he was getting carried around like a baby not that long ago” he said a little tearily “… you okay there?” “yep!” he answered too quickly and rubbed at his eyes “it’s the humidity… because of the rain, and allergy seasons coming...  makes my eyes misty” he shuffled awkwardly for a second before quickly turning on his heel and going back inside “see you around chief!” he didn’t wait for a response as he shut the front door hastily behind him.

“Well” Hiccup looked at his son with a smile and Nuffink showed off his own toothy little grin “guess we’re heading home now bud” Hiccup moved to start walking down the steps but Nuffink wriggled around in protest “I want to walk!” he insisted “okay okay” his dad chuckled and put him down “hold my hand while we walk down the stairs though, yeah?” he offered his hand and Nuffink instinctively took hold of it - just one of the upsides to having such a cuddly child “don’t want you to faceplant in the floor again” Hiccup mumbled under his breath cringing a little at the memory - stairs had never been such a menace.

He kept his eye on his son as they walked carefully down the slippery stone steps, the little boy walking one at a time and looking intently at the big rain puddle at the bottom. Hiccup grinned “big step down here buddy, you’ll have to jump!” Nuffink’s face lit up instantly and Hiccup kept hold of his hand, helping him jump up a little higher so he splashed down hard into the puddle, making him giggle in delight. He let go of his father’s hand and ran ahead, splashing around in all the massive rain puddles the small storm had left behind, the actual rain now just mere droplets so he didn’t need to worry about the boy catching a cold.

The two stayed that way for a while, Nuffink running ahead and splashing in all the puddles before him, his dad not too far behind with a small smile on his face that he couldn’t contain.

Maybe it was just because he was still a relatively new parent, only 5 years in the game and whatnot - but Nuffink although a little quiet, was an adventurous and turbulent kid, and seeing his offspring so joyful and carefree made him ridiculously happy. “Daddy!” the 3 year old snapped him from his thoughts and tugged on his sleeve, pulling him as best as he could towards the small pools of water ahead of them “oh no, no can do buddy” Hiccup pulled back a little and laughed awkwardly - he always tried to deny it when his wife, or his friends, or his village accused it of being so, but he had to admit he really hated to say no to either of his children.

Nuffink cocked his eyebrow, puzzled “why?”

“Because I could hurt myself”

“Why?”

Hiccup knelt down to his level and pointed at his prosthetic “because of my leg, you know my fake leg?” Nuffink nodded knowingly “It’s metal see” Hiccup gave it a knock to prove his point “so it makes it easier for me to slip-” “I won’t let you slip!” he insisted and took a tight hold of his father’s hand, pulling him along. The chief nearly fell forward on his face but caught himself last minute, walking hunched over at a low level as his youngest child dragged him onwards “I’ll hold your hand daddy and you won’t fall!” “Nuffink!” Hiccup tried to sound firm but laughed heartily instead, great job Hiccup, very disciplinary, he thought. Without warning the toddler gave him another tug and pulled his father into one of the multiple shallow puddles on their path home. Before his dad could get in a word of protest Nuffink grabbed at his free hand, jumping up and down. Hiccup sighed, though truthfully he had no intention of not indulging him, he took a slightly tighter hold of his hands as he raised him up and let him drop back down with an almighty splash “Again!” his son kept demanding eagerly grinning “Okay! Up again!” Hiccup obliged everytime and lifted him up. One time he lifted him with a bit more gusto, and dropped him down hard sending water up in both their faces making Nuffink laugh and wipe at his face with his hands.

Hiccup forgot that it was his son that was the small support that kept him in one place as he took a step forward, accidentally placed his prosthetic on a small rock in the floor and slipped, landing on his backside in the water cursing and making his son laugh even harder. “Oh it’s funny is it? my pain is funny to you?” He joked as he moved onto his knees and Nuffink giggled “it is?!” Hiccup said in pretend shock and the young boy shrieked in laughter “oh my gods, of all people, my own son!” he dramatised “the betrayal!”

Nuffink pulled at his arm “stoooppp” he whined guiltily “I’m sorry” “Buddy I’m just joking” He smiled reassuringly and ruffled the boys dampened hair “okay” his son was unable to hide the mischievous smirk on his face before completely splashing his father in the face and running off “what- you tricked me!” Hiccup said in disbelief, albeit a little impressed. Oh yeah, he’s his mother’s son. He gathered himself and set off in a careful run so he wouldn’t slip, and tried to catch up to him, the two laughing ridiculously. They carried on like that for what felt like nowhere near enough time, messing around in the rain puddles, Hiccup enjoying it almost as much as his son, but more because he was spending time with his child and less because he enjoyed getting splashed in the face with cold water.

Every time there was a long puddle Nuffink ran straight at it and went sliding on his tummy, his dad only a pace behind him ready to help him up so the little boy could set off looking for more. Whenever Hiccup thought he was going to slip and fall again he’d slide to the ground on his knees before his prosthetic got its chance, Nuffink took to habit of using this opportunity to kick a bit of water at him and even though it barely reached him, Hiccup would act appalled, get up and catch him by his arms and swing him around, his boots skimming the water on the ground and the boy screaming in delight.

His father couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off of his face, it’d probably been the most relaxed  and happy he’d felt in a while - although the storm was passing, it was a big one and probably wouldn’t die out for another few days or so if the elder was right, and she was always right. The thought gave the young chief a migraine, he hated to admit it, it felt like admitting defeat in a way, but the workload seemed to pile up easy for him so easy these days and he’d be lying if he said it never got on top of him.

Then ironically enough, it was the thing that should have been one of the most stress-inducing things that turned out to be a source of relief. Zephyr and Nuffink. Not even just playing, but spending time with and being around his children made him feel like he himself was a young boy - spending time with his own father… it dwindled as he got older, the war between dragon and viking taking its toll. They grew apart. From the minute Hiccup found out he was going to become a father with his first he had had been slightly fearful of history repeating itself, but hearing his youngest laugh and watching him look up at him with those familiar green eyes made him 100% certain of one thing. He would never let that happen, not in a million years.

He shook his head and scoffed at himself. Thor almighty, he was turning way too soft.

The wind started to pick up - it blew by not too bad but enough to make Hiccup and the boy shiver in their drenched clothes. Hiccup looked up at the sky and saw the storm clouds getting darker, covering up the what would’ve been a nice sunset. He grimaced, more bad weather meant more damage to occur and more work to be done, though the toddler’s sniffling snapped him back to his current situation. Nuffink’s clothes were entirely soaked through, his boots making funny sounding squelching noises as he walked and his long-ish blonde hair hung dripping down his face.

Hiccup stopped and knelt down to try sort him out a bit, he brushed his hair back with his fingers so it didn’t hang over his eyes and tried to wring out the bottom of his tunic best he could without taking it off him and making the poor bugger shiver any more then he was.

Nuffink wasn’t one to complain too much, he was a relatively well behaved child, but the look of discomfort on his face at being wet and cold was unmistakable, the puddles suddenly seeming a lot less appealing then his warm comfortable house. “I think we better hurry on home now bud” his dad noted as the rain started again. Hiccup took off the fur chiefs cloak he wore and wrapped it snug around Nuffink before picking him up to carry him -  it was so big on him it hung down by such a margin that if you looked from a distance you would think he were carrying a baby “better not catch a cold eh?”

The chief picked up the pace, sticking to the dry bits of grass as the rain picked up and came down heavier, fortunately the bulk of the storm only kicking in once they finally entered the Haddock household.

Zephyr was sat at the table, drawing something in one of her many little notebooks, whilst Astrid tended to dinner, which by the look of their seemingly clean little kitchen area, must have been prepared by somebody else (thank odin). The boys presence became known when Hiccup shut the door behind him hastily before any rain could fly in, Zephyr looked up from her drawing and laughed a little at the sight of them “aha! Momma look! They’re all wet!” the girls mother turned around and stared a little

Astrid stood back, taking in the sopping wet mess before her, hands on her hips looking them both up in down in question “what in Thor’s name have you two been doing?” Nuffink tugged on one of his dad’s braids as he nuzzled his head into the crook of his shoulder, tired from his days ventures. Hiccup looked at Astrid with a daft grin “puddle hopping”.

[emospritelet]

Homecoming prompt 35 “This should help to warm your hands up.”

I had this prompt about six times, but it’s a nice one!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

AO3 link

The furs were soft and warm against her skin despite the cool air, and she wriggled a little, settling back as he bore her down.  Warm light flickered over his body, and the smell of the lamps made from animal grease was strong in her nose.  The flames flickered in the depths of his eyes and turned his skin the colour of sunset as he trailed long fingers over her body, tracing the curves of her breasts, her hips.  She could feel him pressed against her thigh, hot and hard and ready, and she reached up to brush the hair back from his face, her thumb stroking over the swell of his lower lip.

“I love you,” she breathed, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled, his nose nudging hers.

“I love you too, my beauty.”

He reached between them, touching her, stroking her, and she moaned a little, pushing up to feel him against her.  He kissed her softly, tenderly, his breathing hard and uneven, and his eyes were fixed on hers, heavy with devotion and desire.

“My soul is yours,” he whispered.  “My heart, my love, my life.  And all the lives to come.”

He bent his head to kiss her, lips soft and wet against hers, and she moaned into his mouth as he pushed slowly inside her.

x

Belle awoke with a gasp, heart thumping, eyes wide in the darkness.  For a moment she was disorientated, still half in the dream, but then rough shapes of furniture appeared in the gloom, and she remembered where she was.  The Rose Room, in Mr Ogilvy’s house.

Her skin was tingling, a tightness in her belly, and she pressed her palm against it, the ache between her thighs slowly beginning to fade.  A strange dream, and vivid, even down to scents and tastes.  She couldn’t recall having a dream quite like it, and she licked her lips as fragments drifted through her mind.  She remembered how it had felt, how he had felt.  The smoothness of his skin, and the way he felt inside her.  It made her blush to remember, her cheeks burning in the darkness.  She remembered the love in his eyes, the softness of them as he bent his head to kiss her.

The worst of it was, she knew his face.  The lover in her dream was no stranger, no figment of her imagination, but had the face of her new employer.  He had been different in the dream, though.  Younger, and thin enough to be almost gaunt, but strong, his arms and chest wrapped in firm ropes of muscle.  His hair had been longer too, hanging around his face and with only the faintest streak of silver at his temples.  And yet it was him.  Mr Ogilvy.  Her blush deepened.  Dreaming of the man who had invited her into his home and offered her a respectable position.  It was highly inappropriate.  She hoped that she would be able to put the dream from her mind, or facing him at breakfast would be nigh impossible.

The room was cold, the house silent, and she snuggled down in the blankets again, closing her eyes and preparing to drift back into sleep.  A tiny part of her hoped that she would dream of him again.

x

Belle felt refreshed when she finally woke, and although she had had a number of strange and confusing dreams, she felt well rested.  A fire had been lit in her room, and it was pleasantly warm, so she splashed water on her face to wake herself up and prepared to dress for the day.  As nice as it had been to play the lady for an evening, she much preferred the freedom to dress herself, and she folded her nightgown, selecting clean stockings and underthings, along with her front-lacing corset, and proceeded to dress herself in front of the standing mirror.

By the time she was dressed and had done her hair, she could hear noises along the floor, the sound of a child calling out, running feet along the hallway. She looked herself over in the mirror.  A plain but well-made charcoal grey tulip skirt swept over her hips and fell to her toes in soft, warm wool.  There was a cotton blouse above, sleeves tight at the wrists and wide above the elbows.  It buttoned up to the neck, her mother’s cameo pinned at her throat, and her hair was swept up in a neat bun and pinned in place.  She looked clean, neat and competent, and nodded to her reflection in satisfaction.

She made her way down the stairs, hearing the sound of a child’s laughter and a high, piping voice.  Rounding the foot of the staircase, she followed the noise and the delicious scent of savoury food, and entered a room that faced south, the morning sunshine streaming in through the windows.  The room was decorated in a leaf-green wallpaper with a damask pattern of lilies, and Mr Ogilvy was standing by a large sideboard, handing a plate to a young boy and admonishing him not to drip on himself.  A girl with dark blonde curls stood next to him, waiting her turn.  The Professor was sitting at an elegant mahogany table, absorbed in the morning newspaper, and Alice sat next to him, tucking into a plate of what looked like kedgeree.

Ogilvy looked across, breaking into a smile as he saw her, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses.  All at once an image from her dream pushed its way into her mind, the memory of his touch, of his kiss, and her eyes widened, a deep blush rising in her cheeks.

“Miss Marchland,” he said pleasantly.  “Good morning to you.”

Belle licked her lips nervously.  

“Good - good morning.”

A rustle of paper to the side made her glance around.  The Professor let the top half of his newspaper fold over, glancing at her over the top of his glasses, and for a brief moment she felt as though he knew exactly what she had been dreaming of.  It made her blush deepen, and he smiled and flipped the paper up once more, hiding his face.  Belle closed her eyes momentarily, and when she opened them Ogilvy had turned his attention to the children.

“Ava, Nicholas,” he said.  “This is Miss Marchland.  She’s come to teach you both some wonderful things, and I hope you’ll make her welcome.”

Ava and Nicholas had both turned to face her, and were watching with curious, somewhat cautious expressions.  Nicholas was smaller and darker-haired than his sister, and ducked behind her slightly, clutching his plate of food to his midriff.  Ava raised her chin a little, and Belle suspected that she was both the older twin, and took the lead.  Belle smiled.

“Good morning, Ava, Nicholas,” she said.  “I’m very pleased to meet you both.”

Alice hissed something under her breath, and Ava quickly bobbed something resembling a curtsy.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss - uh—”  She cut off, mouth opening and closing, and Belle smiled warmly.

“Miss Marchland,” she said gently.  “But that’s a bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?  You may both call me Miss Belle.”

She flicked her eyes up to Ogilvy, hoping he wouldn’t object to the more familiar form of address, but he smiled and nodded approvingly.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Belle,” piped up Nicholas, and she smiled at him.

“I see you have some breakfast there, Nicholas,” she said.  “Don’t let it get cold.”

He beamed at her, lifting his plate, and carried it to the table, where Alice was patting the seat of a chair next to her.  Ava took her own plate from Ogilvy and followed him, watching Belle curiously as she passed.  Belle turned back to the sideboard, and Ogilvy selected a plate.  Her blush had mostly faded, but she could feel it wanting to stain her cheeks again, standing this close to him.  She told herself firmly to put the dream from her mind, but it was easier said than done when she could remember fingers stroking against delicate skin and the soft pull of lips against hers.  Her cheeks heated again, and she closed her eyes in frustration.

“I trust you slept well,” he said, making her glance at him again.  “There’s tea, coffee and chocolate on the table.  Please, help yourself to whatever you’d like.”

“Thank you.”

He began making his own selection, moving away from her and allowing her to breathe again as she inspected the breakfast foods.  There was a plate of devilled kidneys, glistening in their rich gravy and sending up a delicious scent. There were sausages and bacon, coddled eggs, kippers, and a dish of fragrant kedgeree with pieces of smoked haddock and sliced boiled eggs.  She decided on the kedgeree, and spooned some onto her plate before joining the family at the table.  The Professor was still reading, eating a piece of toast with a distracted expression, and Belle poured herself some coffee.

“Well,” said Ogilvy.  “What’s everyone doing today?”

“Oh, we have one or two things planned for this afternoon,” said Alice carelessly.  “Don’t we?”

“We get the Christmas tree!” announced Nicholas excitedly, almost bouncing in his seat.

“I presume Hatter is accompanying you?” said Ogilvy.  “Be sure to use the sled, if you need to.  There’s plenty of snow out there, and it would be easier than carrying the thing.”

“I’ll tell him,” said Alice.  “We also have a few presents to arrange, so we might do that first.”

“Can we go to the river?” asked Ava.

“The river?”  Ogilvy looked puzzled.  “If you wish.  Be careful, though.  I don’t want anyone falling in and drowning on Christmas Eve.  Alice, you have charge of them.”

Ava whispered something to Nicholas: Belle caught the word ‘cat’ and a muffled giggle, and she buried her nose in her teacup to hide her smile.  Alice gave them both a flat look, but one that had little heat in it, and she shared a glance with Belle and rolled her eyes in resignation.  Belle suspected that the Professor would be getting a cat for Christmas, after all.  Whether he wanted one or not.

“What about you, Papa?” said Alice.  “Didn’t you say you had some business to attend to in town today?  That should take awhile, don’t you think?”

He eyed her with a hint of suspicion as he plunged a fork into his devilled kidneys, and Alice blinked at him innocently.

“I’ll be out most of this afternoon,” he confirmed.  “But I should be back by dark, and we can put up the tree.”

The children made noises of excitement, exchanging bright-eyed smiles.

“And you, Miss Marchland?” asked Ogilvy.  Belle put down her fork.

“I have a few errands to run,” she said.  “I thought I might do that this afternoon.”

He nodded, pouring coffee.

“We could take a cab, in that case.”

His gaze held hers for a moment, and Belle turned her attention back to her plate, acknowledging the sudden thump of her heart in her chest.  Really, she had to pull herself together.  It wasn’t as though she was in love with the man.

x

Once breakfast was done, Alice took the two younger children to get ready for their trip to the river.  The house was surprisingly quiet once they had left, and Ogilvy and the Professor were still absorbed in the papers, so Belle bid them good morning and went up to her room.  She used the late morning light shining through the bay window to repair the hem of one of her skirts, her needle flashing in and out in a neat row of tiny stitches.  The work was satisfying, and made her think of a possible solution to the problem of her lack of evening wear.  Pre-worn dresses were available, if one knew where to go, and she was adept at alterations.

She had already decided to go into town that afternoon in order to purchase some small Christmas gifts for the family, and she resolved to look in some of places she knew that might have what she sought.  Setting aside the finished skirt, she glanced out of the window.  It was a sunny day, if cold, and Belle decided that a walk in the park before her trip into town would do her good.

x

Ogilvy finished his paper, folding it and tossing it onto the table, and glanced across at Doc, who was still absorbed in reading.

“I think I’ll go for a walk,” he said.

“You should,” said Doc vaguely.  “It’ll be to your benefit.”

“You mean Belle’s already gone?”  He rolled his eyes in exasperation.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because now you’ll have to hurry to catch her up, and the exercise will do you good.”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to get some, either.”

Doc sniffed, reaching for his coffee.

“I’d prefer not to intrude, thank you.”

Grumbling under his breath, Ogilvy hurried to put on his boots and coat, dressing himself almost before Hatter could get to him.  His valet was tall and handsome, with a twinkle in his eye that made the kitchen maids giggle, but he was dedicated to his job, and good with the children.

“Take the sled, when you go to fetch the tree,” said Ogilvy.  “And don’t let them talk you into getting something so big it won’t fit in the house.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hatter gave him his scarf, and Ogilvy wound it around his neck.

“Get some more holly and ivy, if they have it,” he added.  “The greenery in the lounge is looking a little sad.  I’d like some mistletoe, as well, if you can find it.”

“I’ll see what I can do, sir.”

“Good man.”  Ogilvy buttoned his coat and snatched his hat.  “When did Miss Marchland leave?”

“A few minutes ago, sir.”  A tiny smile played on Hatter’s mouth as he handed over the walking cane.  “I thought I saw her head towards the park, though. You should catch her up.”

“Thank you.”

He bolted out of the door, grasping the stair rail before he could fall down the steps, and looked around frantically.  Winter sun sparkled on the fresh snow, and the trees in the park were wreathed in white.  At last he saw her in the distance, walking north along a wide path between the plane trees.  The surface of the snow had thawed a little in the sun and then refrozen to form a crust, and his feet crunched as he hurried after her.  Belle looked around at the sound of running feet, her blue eyes wide, and Ogilvy slowed to a brisk walk, his breath steaming in the cold air as he drew close, cane tapping on the frozen ground.

“Miss Marchland,” he said.  “I wondered if I might catch you.  Couldn’t resist the fine weather, I see.”

“Fine, but cold,” she said, with a smile.  “But yes, I thought I’d get some air while I could.  Those clouds at the horizon look like more snow will soon be with us.”

Ogilvy smiled, letting his eyes run over her face, a flush in her pale cheeks from the cold air, her lips a soft, deep pink.  Gods, she’s beautiful!  He realised he was staring, and looked away, gesturing to the park.

“I - ah - I usually make a circuit or two each day,” he said.  “Would you allow me to accompany you?”

She smiled back, her eyes warm and inviting.

“With pleasure.”

He offered her his arm, telling himself to stop grinning like a lunatic, and she took it, leather-gloved hand sliding over the thick wool of his coat as they set off, walking in step.

“I - I thought I might take a look in the library this evening,” she said, a little shyly.  “If you have no objection, of course.”

“None at all, you’re welcome to spend as much time as you wish in there.”

She sent him a grateful smile, and they walked on, nodding in greeting to those they passed.

“You must have enjoyed having access to the library at Girton,” he said, and she beamed at him.

“Oh yes!” she said.  “Having said that, I found some of the texts in there infuriating.  Very little written by women, of course, and men seeming to have little interest in women beyond their beauty and childbearing abilities.  Oh, apart from making them wholly responsible for society’s moral decline, of course.”

“I fear those views represent the time we live in all too well,” he remarked, and she huffed indignantly.

“Indeed.  It seems to me that the writers fall into two camps.  Those who think women should be cosseted and protected due to their natural weakness and fragility”—the twist to her mouth showed what she thought of that—“and those who think we should be feared.”

“Having spent many tedious evenings in gentlemen’s clubs, that sounds depressingly accurate.”

“I remember surmising that some of these men had never even met an actual woman in their lives,” she mused.  “Having read William Acton’s writings on a woman’s only sexual desire being to please her husband, I was convinced of it.”

Ogilvy barked a laugh, and Belle’s eyes widened.

“Oh!”  She clapped a hand to her mouth, and a blush crept over her cheeks. “Oh my goodness!  Forgive me, sometimes I just say whatever comes into my head.  What must you think of me?”

“I think you take great pleasure in reading,” he said, deeply amused.  “And are adept at critical consideration of the material you choose.”

She still looked mortified, and he tried to think of something to put her at ease.

“I - I must confess that I’ve read Dr Acton’s assertions on the desires of women,” he said, and Belle let her hand drop from her mouth.

“And what was your opinion?” she asked.  Ogilvy smiled.

“I felt nothing but compassion for his poor wife,” he said, and she giggled, looking scandalised, and still blushing.

They strolled on a little further in companionable silence, Belle’s hand resting lightly on his forearm.  She glanced up at him, her eyes the same clear blue as the sky.

“Was there ever a Mrs Ogilvy?” she asked, and he smiled faintly.

“No,” he said.  “I - I was waiting for the right woman.”

“Waiting a long time, it seems,” she said, her voice lightly teasing, and he felt his smile grow wistful.

“Longer than you can imagine.”

They walked on, feet crunching on the frosted leaves, and he glanced across at her.  A wisp of hair had worked itself loose from the pins beneath her hat, and was curled against her cheek just by her ear.  He resisted the urge to reach out and brush it back.

“And you?” he asked.  “Did you ever give any thought to marriage?  Notwithstanding Mr Acton’s views on the duty and lack of pleasure it promised?”

Belle’s mouth twisted wryly.

“Quite frankly, Mr Ogilvy, the only thoughts I gave to marriage were how much I wanted to avoid it,” she said dryly.  “My father was keen, of course.  If I had married well, it may have kept him in a little more comfort.  Of course he may simply have gambled the house out from under us.”

She closed her eyes, lips pressing together as though she were impatient with herself, and he hid a smile, guessing that she was telling herself to think before she spoke.  Her brief mention of her family intrigued him.

“So there was no one?” he asked, and she glanced at him, a smile brightening her eyes.

“Oh, there was many a young man who liked the idea of a pretty young wife,” she said.  “Unfortunately they were far less keen on that wife getting a university education.  Well, I couldn’t have that, now, could I?”

He chuckled.

“I must apologise for my sex, Miss Marchland,” he said.  “I’m afraid too many of us are witless fools when it comes to women.”

“I would hope you would not object to a young woman improving herself.”

“Indeed not, I encourage it,” he said.  “I agree that women should be able to vote, for example.”

Belle stopped abruptly, turning a little to face him.

“Really?”

“Yes,” he said honestly.

Her face lit up, a bright smile spreading across it, and it was as though the summer sun had returned, bathing him in warmth and light.  He felt his heart swell with the joy of being beside her, and let himself smile in return, losing himself in the depths of her eyes for a single, wonderful moment.  Belle blinked, breaking the spell, and he cleared his throat, gesturing to the path in front of them.

“Perhaps we should keep moving,” he said.  “It’s a little too cold to be standing around.”

“Yes.”

They walked on, and he tried to think of another topic of conversation that would help him to know her background a little better, to explain why he and Doc had never been able to find her.  It was strange; in every life before this she had outranked him, and he had had to work his way up through sheer determination, ruthlessness and dumb luck.  And yet now he was the one with wealth and power, and she dependent on his generosity.  He wasn’t especially comfortable with the change in their relative situations.

“If you’ll pardon me for asking,” he said.  “Where were you raised?  I detect a hint of an accent that I can’t quite place.”

“Hmm.”  She looked amused.  “My own governess would be terribly disappointed that I never fully shed that.  I was raised in Sydney, in Australia.”

“Ah!”  He smiled.  “Yes, of course.”

“My mother’s family was amongst the wealthiest,” she added.  “I’m sorry to say that their wealth did not survive my parents’ marriage.  My father was inclined to make - ill-advised investments.”

“The stock market can be a volatile thing,” he said diplomatically, and she sighed.

“Especially when one believes in one’s friends wholeheartedly and refuses to follow professional advice,” she said, and there was a bitterness in her voice.  “Anyway, the result of his actions was the ruin of the family.  I suppose at least my mother didn’t live to see it.”

“I’m extremely sorry to hear of it,” he said sincerely, and she gave him a grateful nod.

“Fortunately, I had a maiden aunt who was willing to pay for my passage to England, and for my college education,” she said.  “I’ll forever be grateful for that.  I may have had to make my own way in the world, but I’m by no means helpless because of it.”

“I should never suggest otherwise,” he said, and she glanced up at him.

“What is your own tale?”

Ogilvy smiled ruefully.

“I’m afraid it’s the opposite of yours,” he said.  “An upstart orphan child born in the gutter with no friends or family to speak of.  Then Doc found me and took me in and ensured I used my wits for legitimate means.”

“I see,” she said, although she looked puzzled.  It made him smile.

“Our initial encounter was something like my own with Alice,” he explained.  “No doubt she’s told you of it.”

She grinned, a mischievous light in her eyes.

“She mentioned trying to pick your pocket.”

“Indeed.  I’m ashamed to say that at five years old I had already embarked on a glorious life of petty crime,” he said, making her giggle.  “Fortunately my last victim was inclined to be kind rather than to uphold the law.”

“What happened then?”

“Once I’d finished my schooling, I started out in the wool trade,” he said.  “I have an interest in textiles, and I’m not ashamed to say I have an eye for quality.  At first I sold only in the local area, and then I expanded by buying out nearby competitors.  Around fifteen years ago I branched out into shipping, which is lucrative enough to keep us all in comfort.”

Belle sighed, gazing off into the distance as she compared his tale to her own. Opposites indeed.

“And so fortunes rise and fall,” she said.  “Life is strange.”

The wind picked up a little, and she shivered, nestling instinctively against his side.  Ogilvy glanced down at her.

“Cold?” he asked.  “The wind is bitter.”

Belle nodded, realising that she was tucked a little too close against him, and straightening up.

“My gloves are not the warmest,” she said ruefully.  “My fingers feel like icicles.”

Ogilvy’s smile widened a little, and he drew to a stop, letting her arm slip from his as he turned to face her.

“Here,” he said gently, tugging the scarf from around his neck.  “This should help to warm your hands up.”

He took her hands in his, wrapping the woollen scarf around them carefully, like a muff.  It was still warm from the heat of his neck and chest, and when she lifted her hands she could catch the faint scent of him, a comforting, masculine, oddly familiar smell.  She glanced up at him, and he was watching her with that soft look in his eyes again, as though he could barely believe she was real.  She wished she knew what it meant.

“I don’t want you to catch cold,” she said, and he shook his head.

“Your comfort is more important than mine,” he said, and gestured ahead of them.  “Shall we go on?  I fear the bad weather is trying to catch us, but the path will circle back to the house before the snow comes.”

His warmth was seeping into her hands, spreading through her body, and Belle smiled, nodding her agreement.  She took his arm again, slipping her hand back into the cocoon of soft wool, and they continued their walk in comfortable silence.

[chiefhiccstrid]

Moira | Chapter 3

A Princess Diaries AU. 

Summary: Hiccup Haddock always thought he knew where his life was heading. That was until his father showed up after twenty-one years to tell him he is the heir to the small country of Berk. And figuring out how to be a prince is hard enough without having to deal with the developing feelings he has for Lady Astrid Hofferson, who is also trying to steal the throne out from under him.

A/N: Chapter 3 is done! Finally! It took a lot longer than I expected and is also a lot longer than I thought it was going to be. This chapter has a mix of silly and serious, but NEXT chapter is the one you and I have been waiting for. I really hope you all are enjoying this so far because I’m starting to think I’m doing a horrible job on it, but I promise it’s about to get much better. Hope you all enjoy chapter 3! 

Also, thanks to @drchee5e for helping me get through this. I got stuck some and she helped me brainstorm and push through! So thankful to be collaborating on this with you. You all should check out her fics as well cause she is crazy talented. 

Previous Chapter | (Just finding out about this fic? Read Chapter 1 here.)

Read on AO3

Chapter 3 - Into the Great Beyond

When Hiccup walked into his father’s place that afternoon, he was happy. He was in a good mood not because he was having to sit through another boring lesson, but because he had just taken his fundamentals of engineering exam and he felt good about it. It was also his very last exam and now all he had to do was wait for final grades and walk across that stage.

He decided to ignore the other thing he had to do for the time being, which was making the decision on whether to be Prince of Berk or not.

He expected his father to have another ridiculous lesson planned, so he was surprised when he walked in and was greeted by a man and woman who were both wearing the same stylish black outfits that hung all the way to the ground.

The blonde woman immediately started touching his cheeks and the red-headed man began pulling at the ends of his hair, “What’s going on?” Hiccup asked, frozen in his spot in the middle of the grand entryway.

Gobber and Stoick walked in and chuckled at the frightened look on the boy's face, “This is Mala and Throk, two of the best stylists back on Berk.”

Throk stuck out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Henry Haddock,” Hiccup took the man’s hand, nodded his head in greeting, and turned back to his father.

“Stylists?” the king’s son asked.

“A prince’s look is one of the most important parts. Even if you aren’t able to act the part that well, if you look the part then people will forgive you for a lot of things,” his father explained while stroking his long red beard.

“There is a very cute face underneath the bushy eyebrows and oversized hair,” Mala spoke.

“Oversized hair?” Hiccup touched his auburn locks and scrunched his supposedly very hairy eyebrows in thought. He didn’t think his hair was oversized.

“Henry Haddock, follow me,” Mala grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the back of the home where she sat him down in a swivel seat that you’d see in a hair salon. They quickly snapped two photos of him and then Throk pulled out a notepad.

Hiccup was a little frightened because these two people that were about to get close to him with scissors seemed to take their job very seriously. He was scared that he was going to end up looking like something out of one of the Star Wars films.

Mala walked around him and then placed her hands on his face, pulling at his skin in a way it should not be pulled, “Complexion is good, freckles are cute. Eyebrows need major trimming,” Mala picked up one of his hands and inspected his dirty fingernails, “You also need a manicure.”

Hiccup’s eyes widened at the word manicure. She was not coming near his fingernails with a color of any kind, “No manicure. Absolutely not.”

Mala ignored him, but Throk answered, “By manicure, she just means cutting and cleaning them, sir.”

“As long as you don’t plan on coming near my fingers with some ridiculous color. And don’t call me sir. Henry or Hiccup will do just fine.”

Throk looked confused at the last name he mentioned, “Hiccup?”

“It’s a nickname I’ve had for years…” Hiccup was about to explain the story behind it when Mala cut him off.

“Work now. Talk later. We have to shave this scruff. This nice chiseled jawline should not be hidden behind hair of any kind. And speaking of hair, we have to cut this,” she ran her hands through his hair and grabbed a chunk of it between her fingers. Throk was scribbling all of it down quickly.

“Ouch…” Hiccup winced when she tugged a little too hard.

Gobber walked in then and sat in one of the other chairs in the room. Hiccup looked at him curiously, “I wasn’t about to miss this.”

“I’m glad you find this amusing,” Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Are you really going to let them cut my hair? I’m actually quite fond of it.”

Throk let out a loud guffaw, “You like this mess?” Hiccup ignored him.

“Sorry, lad. My hands are tied,” Gobber chuckled.

Hiccup was about to share an unkind thought with his father’s assistant when Mala pulled his glasses off his face, “Henry Haddock, do you own contacts?”

“Well...yeah, I do, but I don’t like to wear -” Hiccup started, but his sentence was cut short when Mala snapped his glasses in half and dropped them in the trash can beside her.

“Now you have to wear them,” Mala said and spun his chair away from the mirror so he could no longer see his reflection. It didn’t matter though because everything was blurry now.

“I can’t believe you broke my glasses.”

“I can’t believe you’d hide those beautiful green eyes behind them,” Mala said.

Throk began combing his hair while Mala began plucking his eyebrows. Hiccup would flinch every time he felt a hair pull free from his skin and it left a horrible burning sensation behind.

It took the rest of the afternoon for the stylists to work their magic, he had heard Throk say at one point.

When Stoick walked into the room, the stylists had two of the photos they took earlier placed in front of his face.

“Sir, this is what your son looked like before, just an ordinary boy. Now, I give you...a prince,” the two removed the photos to reveal a clean shaven and newly trimmed Hiccup. Stoick nodded in approvement and Gobber’s mouth hung open.

Hiccup had yet to see this new look and hoped he still looked at least somewhat the same. When Mala and Throk walked over to the king is when Hiccup took the chance to swivel his chair around and take a look in the mirror.

He didn’t think he looked horrible. In fact, he actually thought he looked good. His hair had been trimmed enough so that it no longer hung over his eyes or made his head look bigger than it was, but it was still on the longer side. His eyebrows were no longer bushy and the green in his eyes was now more noticeable. His clean-shaven face made him look younger. And his nails weren’t covered in a ridiculous color.

It wasn’t a drastic change, but it was enough for someone who knew him well to notice.

“You two did a great job. Thank you,” his father shook both of their hands. They walked out of the room looking proud of their accomplishment.

His father strolled over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, “You like it?”

“It’s actually not that bad,” Hiccup admitted and stood up from the chair causing his father’s hand to fall off his shoulder.

“I had Eret put a box in the car that is filled with new clothes. Nice button up shirts, nice pants, some new shoes, and a couple of suits,” Stoick explained.

“So, you’re dressing me now?” Hiccup asked his father.

“Henry, you cannot wear what you are wearing now out in public. It’s fine when you’re just around the home, but it is not acceptable in public,” Stoick gestured to his wrinkly graphic t-shirt, jeans with a hole over the knee, and his muddy Converse. It was all he ever wore. “If you decide to come back to Berk with me, everyone will know who you are and as ridiculous as it is, a lot of people focus on what we’re wearing.”

Hiccup let out a long sigh, “Is there anything about me that you do like?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying, you’ve changed everything about me. How I stand, how I walk, how I eat, how I look, and now how I dress. Is there anything you wouldn’t change?”

Stoick stood there staring at his son who was waiting for an answer, but Stoick couldn’t think of one. The king wasn’t sure if he didn’t have an answer because he was taken by surprise with his son’s question or if it was because even after three weeks, he still didn’t know his son at all.

The silence was Hiccup’s answer, “Thought so,” he said and walked past his frozen father.

Hiccup wasn’t mad, he was...disappointed. He walked past Gobber who looked up from the papers in front of him, “Leaving so soon?”

Hiccup didn’t slow down, “Yeah, Gobber. I have to get out of here,” he walked out the front door and when it shut behind him he finished what he was saying even though Gobber could no longer hear him, “I have a lot to think about.”

Stoick watched the door shut, “There’s no way he’ll agree to be the prince after that,” he placed his fingers on the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache coming on and closed his eyes.

The Kings assistant walked towards him, “May I say something?”

Stoick opened one eye to glare at his friend, “You’re going to say it anyway, so why ask for permission?”

“Good point. You have to stop focusing on Henry the Prince so much and focus on your son. You have this chance to finally be a father and you’re spending all your time worrying about whether or not he’s going to be a good prince or if he will even decide to be one at all,” Gobber placed his hand on the kings shoulder, “So, just for once put that all aside and be the boy’s father.”

***

When Eret pulled up the driveway to the ranch, Hiccup noticed a familiar car in the driveway and even though his vision was blurry he could still tell who was standing next to it. Fishlegs. His childhood friend.

“Where would you like me to put the box?” Eret asked after he parked the car.

Hiccup already had the door open, “Just put it on the porch. I’ll get it.”

“It’s pretty heavy,” Eret commented.

“I’m stronger than I look,” Hiccup tried puffing his chest out, but it did no good.

Eret tried to hide his smile but nodded and did as he was told anyway.

Hiccup walked up to his friend who was leaning against his car, “Hey,” he extended his hand, ready to perform their secret handshake, but Fishlegs just stared at it with his arms crossed.

“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in three weeks. And I just thought you were busy with finals like the rest of us, but then when you didn’t show up at our usual post-finals celebration spot I knew something else was up,” Fishlegs explained.

“My dad’s in town,” Hiccup reminded him.

“I can tell you’re hiding something else from me,” his stocky friend narrowed his eyes at him.

“Let’s talk inside, okay?” Hiccup began walking to the front door and Fishlegs followed him. The boys stepped over the box of clothes, not even bothering to carry it inside.

Valka was in the kitchen washing dishes and she smiled at the two friends, “Hello, Fishlegs.”

“Hi, Ms. Haddock,” he greeted.

Valka put the dishes down and looked at her son, something was different, “I’m guessing Mala and Throk got ahold of you?”

Hiccup paused in the kitchen, “You know them?”

“I met them once before. They are very interesting people.”

Hiccup nodded in agreement.

“You look good,” Valka smiled gently at her son.

“Thanks,” he returned the smile.

Things were finally getting back to normal between Hiccup and his mother. He could never really stay mad at his mother for too long. She was the one person he loved most in the world and after a couple of days of the silent treatment, he missed her. The two apologized to one another and the tension in the home was finally gone.

Fishlegs walked in front of his skinny friend and looked at him closely, “I knew something about you looked different.”

His stocky friend scrunched his nose, a thing he did when he wasn’t too fond of something,  “What are you thinking?” Hiccup asked.

“I’m wondering what happened to my best friend. You know the one who used to laugh with me at the people who looked like you do now?”

“And how do I look?”

“Like someone who gets up early to comb their hair and put on cologne,” Fishlegs crossed his arms. One of his favorite things about Hiccup was that he didn’t care about what he looked like. He could roll out of bed and go anywhere sporting his messy bed head without a care in the world.

“And that’s a bad thing?” Hiccup asked.

“It’s not you.”

Hiccup looked into his friend's eyes for a moment before walking around him and towards his bedroom. Fishlegs followed his friend and shut the door behind him. Hiccup moved his rolls of blueprints off the chair so his friend would have a place to sit. Hiccup remained standing.

“My dad showed up three weeks ago,” Hiccup began.

“I knew that already.”

“Well, he came with some pretty unbelievable news…” Hiccup started, “And you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Who am I going to tell, Hiccup? You’re the only person I hang out with. Just spit it out already.”

“Right. Well, my father is the king of the country Berk. And since he’s the king, well...now I’m the next in line after he retires.”

“You’re kidding,” his friend said.

Hiccup shook his head.

“Shut up! Dude, this is so cool. Have you known about this your whole life? I can’t believe you haven’t told me about this. This is huge.”

“I didn't know. I knew nothing about it until my father showed up.”

“So, does this make you a prince?”

“It technically does, but I haven’t agreed to anything yet. That’s why I’ve been gone. My father has been giving me these prince lessons probably hoping I’ll fall in love with royal life and agree to it. But I have to decide by graduation if I’m going back with him or not. I have a lot to think about,” Hiccup explained and sat down on his bed.

“What is there to think about?”

“There’s so much. First, I would have to leave Melody and move to Berk. And then what about becoming an engineer? All my hard work would just be for nothing. I would have to leave my whole life behind,” Hiccup said.

“I seem to remember you telling me that the second you were given the chance to leave this small and boring town, you would do it. So, why is this any different? There’s nothing and no one tying you down here. So, here’s your chance,” Fishlegs reminded him.

His friend was right, there were so many times he would dream about leaving his hometown and traveling the world because this small and hot place never really felt like home to him.

“This is different. I feel like I’m being forced to do this by a man who wasn’t there for me in the first place. Why would I give up my whole life for him?” he asked both his friend and himself.

“You just told me they are leaving the choice up to you, so are you really being forced?” Fishlegs mentioned.

His friend also had a point there too, but a part of him still didn’t feel like giving his father the satisfaction of agreeing.

And then as if Fishlegs heard his friends thoughts, he said, “And if you won’t do it for your father then find something or someone else to do it for. Do it for yourself, maybe?”

Hiccup looked at his friend, “Elaborate?”

“I mean, you have this opportunity to get out of here and do something with your life that most people will only ever get to dream about.”

“But this isn't just a summer vacation, Fishlegs. This is my whole life we’re talking about here. I agree to this and my whole life is planned out for me,” Hiccup said.

“Your whole life is planned out for you here too,” Fishlegs reminded him and Hiccup looked at him questioningly, “You’re going to graduate, get a job, probably get married, have a kid or two, and then die.”

“Wow, you’re just a cup of cheer, aren’t you?” Hiccup added, sarcastically.

“I’m just telling you like I see it. You can either choose to stay here and get a job that will probably be boring to you in a year. Or you can agree to it and have a job that is not only going to be different and throw crazy challenges at you, but that also makes a difference in people’s lives at the same time.”

Fishlegs stood up and walked over to sit next to his friend on his bed, then placed his large hand on his small shoulder, “It’s the great beyond and it’s calling your name, Hiccup.” Fishlegs used his free hand to gesture to the world out in front of them.

Hiccup turned his head and smiled at his friend. He knew he was right and going into the great beyond made him excited, but there was still a part of him that didn’t want to do it. And maybe it was the fear of change that was holding him back or maybe it was the distaste he still felt for his father. Either way, those really were selfish reasons to not agree.

***

Hiccup was in the middle of his last lesson with his father when Gobber interrupted saying someone from Berk was on the phone asking about things for the ball next week. His father left to deal with the incompetence of his staff, as he muttered on his way out, which left him and his father’s assistant alone in the room.

“Excited about graduation tomorrow?” Gobber asked, breaking the awkward silence that was hanging over the both of them.

Hiccup shrugged, “I guess so.”

Gobber could see the uncertainty and stress written all over the boy’s face, “Still not sure what you’re gonna tell your father, huh?”

Hiccup took a deep breath before answering, “I keep making this pros and cons list in my head, but it’s not helping because I keep asking myself if I really will make a good prince. I’m no leader. I never have been. Just thinking about public speaking makes me hyperventilate.”

Gobber chuckled and Hiccup looked at him curiously, “Sorry, lad. I’m not laughing at you, but it’s funny because I remember having this exact conversation with your father when he was unsure about becoming king or not.”

This got Hiccup’s full attention, “He didn’t want to be king?”

“He knew if he decided to be king he would also have to give up a lot of other things he wanted to do.”

“What changed his mind?”

“I told him to stop thinking about himself so much and start thinking about others. The people of Berk needed him to become king and giving it up would’ve been selfish of him,” Gobber explained.

“Is that what you would tell me?” Hiccup asked, curiously.

Gobber shook his head, “One thing I already know about you is that you are not your father, which is why I won’t tell you the same thing that I told him all those years ago. I would tell you that if you won’t do it for your father, do it for someone else.”

Gobber was the second person to tell him that and Hiccup didn’t ignore that fact.

“Like your mother, do it for her,” Gobber finished.

Hiccup scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, “My mother? She hates all this stuff.”

“Well, I heard about your all’s financial troubles and how she was going to have to probably sell the ranch…” Gobber trailed off when he noticed the confusion upon Hiccup’s face.

“What?”

“I’m - I’m sorry, lad. I...I thought you knew,” Gobber apologized.

Hiccup felt many things in that moment.

Sadness. He was sad because he grew up on that ranch. It was where he rode Toothless for the first time. Where he chased a bunch of chickens in the fields when he was a child. It was where he lost his leg. It was where he went when he was upset and even when he was happy. It was where he spent most of his time.

Anger. He was mad because his mother didn’t tell him. She hid it from him. It was just another important thing that she lied about and hid from him.

Fear. He was scared because the ranch was all his mother had. What would she do now? Where would she go?

Then Stoick walked into the room and saw the look on his son’s and his assistant’s face, “What happened?”

Hiccup came out of his thoughts and back to reality, “Did you know about mom having to sell the ranch?” he asked his father who was still standing in the entryway.

Stoick nodded, “She called and told me yesterday.”

“Well? Are you going to help her? Help us?” Hiccup harshly asked his father.

“I offered. She wouldn’t let me. She’s stubborn, and she always has been,” the king answered.

Hiccup stood up from his chair, “I’m going home. I need to go home.”

Stoick was about to protest because he wasn’t done with his lesson yet, but he took one quick look over at Gobber and was reminded of their conversation from the other day. Stoick had to stop thinking of Hiccup as just another person who worked for him and start thinking of him as his son.

“Okay,” Stoick nodded, “Gobber, go get Eret.”

The short man got up quickly and called over his walkie-talkie, “Eret! Get the car ready,” before he hopped around the corner, leaving father and son alone in the large room.

Hiccup began to follow the direction Gobber went when his father placed a hand on his shoulder, “I tried to help her. I really did.”

Hiccup looked up at his father for a split second before brushing his large hand off his shoulder and walking out of the room. The king had been looked at that way once before, more than twenty years ago. Eyes full of heartbreak and betrayal staring back at him. It still hurt just as much as it did back then.

***

Hiccup walked into the front door. He spotted his mother sitting over a bunch of books at the dining room table. A glass of red wine sat next to her and her fingers were tangled in her hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hiccup said. The quietness of the room made him sound a lot louder than he actually was.

Valka turned around quickly, startled by her son’s presence. She looked at the watch on her wrist, “Hiccup! I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having money problems?” Hiccup asked again, his eyes narrowing at his mother.

“How did you….your father,” she sighed and looked down at her lap.

Hiccup clenched his fists, “How much more are you hiding from me, huh? You lie about who my father is, who I am, and now you hide something like this from me?” Valka stood up from her chair and walked towards her son, but Hiccup took a step back, “I thought we told each other everything, mom. I never kept anything from you. Not ever.”

“I know. I just thought I was protecting you.”

“I’m not a kid anymore.”

Valka nodded and looked down at her bare feet, not able to look her son in his eyes, but she could still feel him staring at her. It was burning a hole in the top of her head, “I know that….I’m sorry,” her voice cracked.

“So, it’s true? You’re having to sell the ranch?”

Valka nodded, not able to reply. Her throat was growing tighter by the second and she knew the second she spoke, the tears that prickled behind her eyes would begin to flow. She always tried to never cry in front of her son. She never wanted him to see her cry.

“What are you going to do?” Hiccup asked.

She shook her head but still remained silent.

“Why won’t you answer me?”

Valka looked at her son now, silent tears flowing down her cheeks.

Hiccup’s heart broke. He had only seen his mother cry once before and that was the day he woke up in the hospital. They were happy tears then. These tears, however, were full of pain, sorrow, and shame.

He closed the distance between them and pulled his mother into his arms, holding her close as the tears continued to spill over her cheeks.

“I’m going to fix this, mom,” Hiccup promised. “I won’t let anyone take this place away from you.”

Valka broke free of her son’s hold and looked up at him. She wiped away the tears that were still falling, “I can fix this. Don’t worry. I can fix it…” she kept repeating.

Hiccup shook his head, “Mom. You’ve done everything for me. You’ve always made sure I had what I needed. You were always there for me. Now, let me return the favor. Let me help you.”

Valka looked at her son, who now stood taller than her. He wasn’t the little boy that used to run through the forest looking for trolls anymore, he was all grown up. And she was so proud of him.

Her stubbornness and need to fix everything herself dissolved away the second she saw his determination, “What are you going to do?”

Hiccup took a deep breath. He knew exactly what he had to do.

***

Graduation was boring. God, was it boring. Hiccup sat in the small and uncomfortable chair in the midst of hundreds of other students he didn’t know watching them cross the stage and receive a piece of paper. A piece of paper that defined four years of hard work.

The second his name was called, however, Gobber blew one of those obnoxious noisemakers that drew all the attention to him. His father came too and he stood from his seat as his son walked across the stage and shook the president of Melody University's hand.

His mother wrapped in a large hug the second they all reunited after the ceremony, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, mom.”

Gobber crushed the skinny boy into a hug that lifted him off the ground, “Gobber...can’t...breathe…”

The man laughed and set the boy down gently, “Sorry, lad. Did you hear me cheer for you?”

“Gobber, I’m pretty sure all of Melody, Georgia heard. The next county over probably heard you too,” he said and saw his father chuckle out of the corner of his eye.

“That was my plan,” Gobber looked very proud of his accomplishment.

Stoick walked over to him now and patted him on the back as gently as he could, but Hiccup already felt a bruise forming between his shoulder blades, “Proud of you, son.”

Hiccup smiled up at his large father, “Thanks.”

They all went back to Stoick’s place for drinks and a celebratory dinner. During dinner, Hiccup could feel his father’s eyes on him, making sure his dining etiquette was correct. He ignored his father though and tried to act like he couldn’t hear his father clearing his throat whenever he’d pick up the wrong spoon or slouched too much in his seat.

There was an awkward silence after dinner and everyone sat wondering the same thing, what was Hiccup’s answer going to be.

Gobber, as always, was the one to bring up the subject first, “So, what’s next for you, lad?”

Hiccup looked over at his father’s assistant, then his mother, and then finally made eye contact with his father, who for probably once in his life looked nervous.

Hiccup made his decision last night but had kept to himself until this very moment, “I’m going back to Berk with you,” Stoick breathed a sigh of relief, “But on one condition, Toothless comes with me.”

“Toothless? Your horse?” Stoick asked.

“Yes. My horse comes with me or the deal is off,” Hiccup crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, enjoying the look of horror on his father’s face.

“And how in the hell do you expect me to get a horse all the way to Berk?” Stoick asked his stubborn son.

“That one’s on you,” Hiccup grinned mischievously and then turned to his mother, “Will you come with me?”

Valka reached across the table and held out her hand, Hiccup placed his hand in hers and she squeezed it gently, “I’m going to stay here. You know I can’t leave Cloudjumper and this is where I belong. This is home for me.”

Hiccup nodded and frowned, “Are you sure?”

Valka smiled, “I’m sure. I found where I belong and now it’s your turn.”

Hiccup nodded, understanding, “How many days until we leave?”

“We need to be on the plane in two days,” Stoick replied and then looked at his assistant, “So, you have two days to figure out to get a horse from here to Berk and I suggest you get started.”

Gobber’s eyes grew three sizes and he quickly stood up from the table, knocking his water glass over in the process, “I’ll get right on that,” the man looked at Hiccup and smiled, “I’m really glad you agreed to come back with us. You’re going to love Berk.”

Hiccup replied with a smile.

“Yes, thank you, son,” Stoick said and raised his glass.

“Oh, I’m not doing it for you,” Hiccup raised his glass in the air and then finished the last of the champagne in his glass.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Floret

Pairing: Unrequited!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Reader, mild Fishlegs x Reader

Words: 1202

Your heart’s gone sour, and like all dead things, seeds sprout in its wake. Eventually they grow too large for you to handle on your own. You’ve come to terms with it. For now, you just spend your time flying under the radar, taking long walks and giving good advice. It’s a lonely life, but it’s yours.

Tags: flower disease, hanahaki disease, Unrequited love, angst, postcanon, sensitive topics, gn reader

Full - Next>

“Hey,” You leaned against the open door frame, “Have you figured out what it means, yet?”

“O-oh, hi,” Fishlegs looked up from his book, one you noticed had an array of different plants etched onto the leather cover, “Sort of.”

You pursed your lips. You didn’t like having to come to him with this, honestly preferring to keep it to yourself, but there wasn’t anywhere else to find knowledge like this on Berk. 

“It’s a wild pansy.” He started, hesitating.

“Yes,” You urged him on. You knew this already.

“Wild Pansies symbolize love, and nostalgia.” Your heart stuttered as he just confirmed what you already knew. However, you couldn’t honestly find it in yourself to be surprised. It wasn't like there was much for you to do. As it was, you were just exploring a few whims.

 Fishlegs closed his book, carefully pushing back his chair. Along the side of one wall is a large bookcase. He carefully slots his book along one of the lower shelves.

“...Is it useful?” You look away, rubbing at your arm. It is covered in a heavy layer of furs, mostly to hide the thinning meat. You are all skin and bones now, and it is getting more and more difficult to cover up. Even now, the petals tickle at your throat.

“For skin rashes and bumps, mostly,” He looks at you meaningfully, “I-Is there a reason you’re asking?”

You furrowed your brows.

“I’ve told you,” You said, touching your face. There’s nothing on it, is there? “I just found a flower on the far side of the island. I figured it might be useful. That’s all.”

Fishlegs sighed. You rub your temples as the room spins a little, the silence unbearably stuffy.

“How’s Ruffnut?” Fishlegs perks up slightly at the mention of his pregnant wife, though the sad look on his face hasn’t abated. You are not sure which of two issues he’s thinking of, but you both are aware that he has no right to insert himself into your business. The two of you are not even close enough to qualify as acquaintances. 

The two of you had a shared interest, and in another world you might have been friends. As of now, the closest you’d ever gotten was a glance from a distant stranger you’d mistaken for someone else. Not enough for any sort of real love. And, he wasn’t the type to let anyone but himself care for his dragon if he could help it.

It didn’t take any close bond to understand you, however. Yours was an open secret. Hidden barely under a veil out of view, easy to find if anyone thought to look for it, but inconvenient, easier to leave a mystery. 

You tuned him out, thinking back to earlier in that day

Your line has always turned out weak-hearted people. More lovers and poets than warriors. It’s what made you different from the rest. It’s what excluded you, made you an outcast.

You stayed detached and distant from most people anyways, as you were taught to. It wouldn't be good to get attached, you contracted the lover’s sickness. Unfortunately, it happened anyway.

You’d fallen into friendship with another little outcast a very, very long time ago. It was barely a memory now, a relic of a time long forgotten. 

You, the poor little dragon groomer, had spent your teen years in your dusty little stables with your fine-bristled brush and washcloth watching him adventure from afar. 

Your heart, so vulnerable and fragile, had slowly begun to beat for a place it didn’t belong.

“I just- I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” Their relationship was on the rocks, it’s true. But that had nothing to do with you, you’d not step a foot into their business. They would overcome it and remain just as strong as they always had.

“Give it time,” You sighed, voice raspy, staring out over the oceans that surrounded New Berk, “You both need to cool off. Then you can talk.”

If they weren’t meant for each other then, they certainly were now. 

They, who spent hours, days, years fighting and loving and living together. There was no way that that hadn’t changed him irrevocably. Unrecognizably. So now it must have been that you didn’t love who he was, you loved the ghost of who he could have been. Who you might have known.

They were molded to a perfect fit. 

You could have only wished to have a fraction of what they had with anyone at all. It was only unfortunate how being a lover didn’t attract any love to you.

“I don’t know,” Hiccup bent to rub at his eyes. A budding beard, fluffy cape and respectable leather armor. He almost made up the perfect image of ‘young, promising Chief.’

His feet hug over the cliffside, swinging airily, displacing pebbles along the edge. The smell of fresh dew

Recent rainfall made wandering along the cliff sides dangerous. Neither of you cared for the danger. Hiccup’s years on dragonback made him reckless. Your years of yearning and distress made you apathetic. You found yourself along the cliffs often.

“That’s what everyone is always telling me. But I’m not sure I'm doing the right thing. I’m not sure I did the right thing.” He ranted.

“What’s right is subjective,” You twirled the stem of a flower between your fingers. You’d coughed it up before he’d gotten there. As his trusted confidant, you welcomed him as he dropped down besides you, always the listener. You didn’t have much of a voice to talk with anymore, anyways. Your throat was sore, voice scratchy.

“It’s unfortunate that, as Chief, you’re constantly at the mercy of others. She’s always been right for you, though, hasn’t she? You’ve loved her since we were kids. You loved her as a teen, you married her, so that hasn’t changed, has it? You’re going to have kids soon. You’re trying to have children. Don’t get cold feet. Don’t back out on her now.”

“I know, but… I don’t know if I’m right for her,” His voice cracked, “I feel like I’m holding her back.

“I know you haven’t considered anything else. There is no one else for you, is there?” You gave him a pointed look, urging him to not make a mistake he would ultimately regret, “She’s the only one who can decide that. She chose you. She’s wanted no one else since then, if she ever had at all.”

“Yeah… Yeah,” He slowly nodded an affirmative, staring up into the clouds as seabirds called to each other in the sky.  “I just… I miss Toothless. He was my best friend. I know it’s been years, but don’t know if I can be sure of anything without him here.”

You hummed. That was a sentiment you understood very well.

Death by flower was the coward’s way out. It was more honorable to go on your own terms, not led by some silly organ-led emotions. It was unvikingly. It was dishonorable. You hadn’t the courage or mind to do it, though. You didn’t want to die. And wasn’t that a bitter thought?

You’d always known that you might not have a choice.

[tails89]

Grounded Part 2

Remember when I promised to have this up by the weekend... this is technically a weekend even if I am a month late.

This is it guys. All finished! Hope you enjoyed!!

Part One

“I told him to take it easy.” Astrid was marching through Berk searching for her wayward boyfriend. He hadn’t been at his house that morning when she had gone to visit. “He promised me he’d take it easy.” She pulled her furs in tighter around herself. The wind howled between the buildings and the air smelled of snow.

Astrid spotted her target. Blue eyes narrowed. “But of course he’s not going to take it easy,” she mumbled to herself. “What was I thinking? It’s Hiccup!”

Astrid stomped into the forge. “Your dad is looking everywhere for you.” She leant against one of the pillars near the entrance.

Hiccup was sitting on a stool, a pile of leather in his lap. His crutch lay discarded on the floor.

“Astrid.” He raised his hands. “This is not what it looks like.”

“Really?” Astrid mocked.

“Really.” Hiccup put his work down. “I’m taking it easy! I am. I just had to get out of the house.”

Technically he wasn’t wrong. The sewing he was doing didn’t look particularly strenuous. Curious, Astrid walked over.

“What are you working on?”

“I’m making some adjustments to Toothless’s saddle,” Hiccup gestured to the parchment rolled out beside him. “The saddle itself wasn’t badly damaged, but I’ve got some ideas for some improvements.”

Astrid picked up the drawings.

“These look really good.” She sat on the floor by the stool going over the lines. “What are these?” She pointed at two of the markings on the paper.

Hiccup peered over her shoulder.

“Handles,” he explained. “They control the tail fin just like the pedals,” he pointed to another design. “I can lie along Toothless’s back and still help him fly.” Hiccup’s voice filled with excitement, the way it usually did when he spoke of flying. It was hard not to get caught up in it. “This lever here will switch between the pedals and the handles.”

“Have the pedals changed?” A few more modifications had caught Astrid’s eye.

“Yeah,” Hiccup leant down with a wince. Realising he was going for the other pile of parchment, Astrid gathered the pieces up to hand them to him. He rifled through the stack, looking for the right one. Locating the one he wanted, Hiccup showed the pictures to Astrid.

“This one here is for flying.” Hiccup waved the first drawing in Astrid’s face. “And this one is for walking, and maybe one more for walking on ice.”

“These are great,” Astrid’s brows wrinkled together in thought. “But are you really going to carry around all three of these?”

“That’s the beauty of it Astrid.” The parchment fluttered wildly in Hiccup’s flailing hands. “It’s one leg with interchangeable feet. See here-“ It was flapping too much for Astrid to really see the design. “-you twist this bit, and it swaps them over.”

It was always nice and warm in the forge. Today, with the wind howling outside Astrid was almost willing to forgo her chores for the day, preferring to sit in the warmth and watch Hiccup work. But she had wasted too much time with him already. Reluctantly, she got to her feet.

“Your dad wanted me to tell you,” Astrid tidied up the stack of papers, “Bucket’s been complaining, so it’s looking like there’s a nasty storm brewing.”

Hiccup put his work down.

“We’ll need to make sure the dragons are secure and close up the stables.”

“We’ve got this Hiccup,” Astrid put her hand on Hiccup’s shoulder. “I’ll gather the Dragon Riders. Between us, your dad, and the A Team we’ll get everything secure before the storm hits.”

Hiccup reached up to take Astrid’s hand.

“I can help. I can’t just sit around and do nothing. I could… I could supervise!”

Astrid narrowed her eyes.

“If I let you come with me, will you promise me you’ll stay on Toothless?” Astrid asked. She bent down to retrieve Hiccup’s crutch and hand it to him.

“Yes, I promise!”

*

“Hiccup Haddock you liar.”

Astrid emerged from the path leading down to the stables. It was one of the many entrances the villagers could take down to the cave within the cliffs. Stormfly was tucked up inside where she would be safe from the storm. Berk was prepared for the wild weather ahead. The wind had picked up while she’d been gone, blowing away anything that had been missed and wasn’t tied down.

“I was just-“

Astrid cocked an eyebrow and waited.

“I was just…” Hiccup trailed off lamely. “It was going to blow away.” He passed Astrid the basket he’d climbed off Toothless to retrieve. He leaned gingerly against his wooden crutch and wobbled slightly on his single leg. Toothless nudged his head under Hiccup’s free elbow to steady him.

“You were supposed to watch him,” Astrid turned her frustration on Snotlout who was lounging against Hookfang.

“I’m no one’s babysitter,” Snotlout crossed his arms over his chest.

“You volunteered to do it!”

“Yeah, well it was that or go do all that other work. Jeez Astrid, it’s like you don’t even know me.” Snotlout pushed away from Hookfang.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t,” Astrid grumbled. She tucked the basket away where it wouldn’t blow off.

The first snowflakes were beginning to fall, fluttering down to stick on clothes and catch in hair. The clouds overhead were dark and heavy.

“We should probably head home.” Fishlegs and the twins had joined the others. Fishlegs was looking nervously at the sky, like it was going to open up right above them.

“We’re just about done here,” Astrid agreed. “You guys go get out of the storm. There’s one more thing I’ve got to do.”

“I’ll come with you.” Toothless crouched so that Hiccup could climb onto his back.

Astrid nodded. “Let’s go.”

With Toothless and Hiccup beside her, Astrid walked through Berk.

“Where are we going?” Hiccup had to call out to be heard above the wind.

“Home.”

It was snowing heavily by the time they reached the front door of the Chief’s house. Visibility was down to almost zero. The late afternoon sun was completely obscured bringing nightfall to the island early. The small beam of light that glowed from beneath the door was all the two Vikings had to go by.

Astrid struggled with the door. Snow had already banked up in front of it, making it difficult for her feet to find purchase on the slippery ground. A shove from Toothless got the door open and quickly she staggered inside. Toothless followed, leaning on the door to shut it again.

“You made it.”

Stoick was already sitting in his chair by the fire.

“It’s getting pretty wild out there.” Hiccup slipped carefully from Toothless’s back. He sat down by the fire and rubbed his leg gingerly. The swelling was beginning to go down, but bad weather would often make his stump ache.

“I should go before it gets worse.” Astrid took the opportunity to fix her hood. It had blown back in the wind.

“You can’t go out in this weather lass.” Stoick gestured for Astrid to take a seat. “Stay at least until it calms down a bit.”

Toothless had curled up on the floor behind his rider. Astrid sat down with them, holding her hands out towards the fire.

The house creaked in the fierce wind. Every now and then a gust would blow through a gap in the roof eliciting a mournful whistle. Outside the storm raged on.

There was a loud knock at the door.

“Stoick? Are you in there?”

The Chief went to the door, revealing two snow-covered figures. Lanterns flickered and sputtered, almost going out in the gale.

“Stoick! The roof has blown off the Thoreson’s house!”

The Chief of Berk jumped to action immediately.

“Right I’m coming.” He grabbed his heavy fur coat from where it was drying beside the fireplace.

“Do you need any help?” Astrid was already on her feet, ready to go.

“No, it’s too dangerous out there.” Stoick took another lantern at lit the candle inside. “We’ll get them up to the Great Hall and wait there until the worst of this storm passes. I want both of you to stay here.” He rushed out into the darkness, slamming the door behind him.

“So I guess it’s just you and me then.” Astrid shrugged out of her coat. The snow trapped in the fur had melted into the fabric. She hung it by the fireplace and instructed Hiccup to toss her his damp jacket. “So what else have you been working on?” She spotted a pile of his work sitting on the table and went over for a look.

“Oh those? They’re nothing. I’ll just- you can-“

Astrid shuffled through the papers coming to a picture at the bottom of the pile.

“Oh.”

She pulled it out to look closer.

“It’s me.”

The rough sketches had been drawn hastily, as if the artist had been afraid of being caught in the act. Pictures of Astrid on Stormfly. Astrid with her axe. Running and jumping as she trained.

“You drew me?”

Astrid looked over at Hiccup.

“You like them?” He wouldn’t meet her eye.

Astrid went and sat back down beside him. She lay her head on Hiccup’s shoulder, basking in the glow of the fire.

“Like them? I love them.” She turned her head and pressed her lips to his cheek.

“Maybe I should draw some more?”

“Mmhmm,” Astrid kissed down near Hiccup’s jaw, trailing downwards. He turned his head and ducked, capturing her lips with his own.

“Could you imagine if your dad came home right now?” The words were mumbled against his mouth.

“Really Astrid?” Hiccup pulled away slightly. “That’s what you choose to say right now?”

“We’ve never made out in your house before,” Astrid pulled Hiccup in close to kiss him again.

“That’s one thing I miss about Dragon’s Edge,” Hiccup mumbled. “Less chance of someone walking in on you.”

“We’ll just need to find better hiding places around Berk.”

The cove where Hiccup first found Toothless was their usual go to spot. This time of year it would be completely snowed in and the pond would be iced over.

They kissed again. The howling wind giving them confidence that Stoick wouldn’t be back any time soon.

Hiccup glanced over at Toothless. The dragon was watching them curiously, his intelligent eyes taking everything in. Hiccup flicked his eyes up towards the stairs. The Night Fury followed his gaze, head tilted in question. Hiccup did it again and the dragon seemed to get the message. Pushing to his paws he yawned and stretched before padding upstairs.

“Did you just send your dragon away?” Astrid was leaning back, watching the exchange.

“Having Toothless watch is almost as bad as having my dad watch,” Hiccup complained.

“You’re such a dork,” Astrid teased. She pressed a trail of kisses down her boyfriend’s neck.

Hiccup’s hands came up. One snaked around Astrid’s waist while the other rose to cup her cheek. With nothing to prop themselves up they fell. Hiccup overbalancing backwards and Astrid tumbling on top of him.

“Ow. Ow. Ow!”

“I’m sorry,” Astrid was laughing as she said it.

“If you were sorry you would move,” Hiccup pointed out, grinning through the pain.

“I’m comfortable here.”

They were both laughing, rolling around on the ground. Hiccup was clutching his side.

“I’m not. I can’t breathe!”

Astrid rolled sideways so that she was lying on the floor on her back.

“Better?”

Hiccup found her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

“Better.”

The sky had cleared by morning, and the work to repair the village had taken several days.

Astrid surveyed the scene below as she flew Stormfly through the crisp air above Berk.

“Hiccup, what are you doing?” Astrid guided Stormfly down to land beside Hiccup and Toothless. In a graceful leap, she jumped down to land in the snow.

Astrid placed her hands on her hips, coming to stand in front of Toothless. Hiccup was perched on the Night Fury’s back, adjusting one of the straps on the saddle.  

“Remember I was showing you the plans to add handles to the saddle?” Hiccup demonstrated by tugging on one of the new levers that sat at the front of the saddle. Toothless’s red tail fin snapped out.

“Hiccup, you have two broken ribs. You shouldn’t be flying.”

“We’re not flying, are we bud.”

Astrid inspected the metal pieces in Toothless’s tail rigging.

“Have you been working in the forge?”

After the storm, all able-bodied Vikings had been busy repairing the damage to the village. Hiccup had been left alone for three days and had obviously taken advantage of the situation.

“Just a little,” Hiccup hopped down from Toothless. He was wearing his prosthetic leg again and was only limping slightly as he made his way to Astrid.

“You’re impossible.” Astrid grinned mischievously. “So have you tried it out yet?”

“Not yet,” Hiccup looked at Toothless with longing. It had been over a week since they had last been in the air.

“Is it ready?” Astrid asked. “Why don’t you try it out now?”

“Two minutes ago you were lecturing me on flying,” Hiccup reminded her.

“I know,” Astrid sighed. “But we both know you’re going to do it anyway and Toothless hasn’t been in the air in days. I know I’d be going crazy if I was grounded for that long.”

“Just a quick flight around the island,” Hiccup was already limping back towards Toothless.

“No crazy stunts.” Astrid climbed back onto Stormfly as Hiccup mounted Toothless. The Night Fury had a big gummy grin.

“Let’s go bud.”

Powerful muscles bunched under black scales and the dragon sprang into the air. Higher they climbed into crisp winter air. The sky was clear and cold with no clouds in sight.

Levelling out, Hiccup pulled the right handle, shifting the position of Toothless’s tail.

“Looks like it’s working.” Astrid circled above on Stormfly.

“Okay bud, we’re going to take this nice and slow.” Hiccup shifted the handles again and Toothless dove.

He cried out in exhilaration as the wind streamed through his hair and pushed him back in his seat. In that moment, the difficulties of the past week were forgotten. It was just Hiccup and Toothless soaring through the sky.

With a flick of the new handles, Toothless pulled effortlessly out of the dive.

“Yes! It works!” Hiccup twisted in his seat to check the position of the tail ignoring the twinge of pain it caused. They climbed back up to where Astrid and Stormfly were watching.

“Looking good, babe.” Astrid called down to them“Ready head back?.”

She was surprised when Hiccup nodded and guided Toothless back towards land.

They touched down by the edge of the forest behind the Berk.

“Well?” Astrid jumped from Stormfly’s back to land lightly beside the Deadly Nadder. Hiccup’s dismount was much less graceful.

“Maybe you were right and it is still too soon for flying.”

“Words I never thought I would hear coming from your mouth.”

“At least now, with a working tail, Toothless can fly,” Hiccup’s mood was better than it had been all week.” It’s not fair that he’s been grounded this whole time too.”

“And soon you’ll both be back up in the air.” Astrid assured him.

With snow crunching under their boots, the two Vikings made their way home.

*

“Okay bud, what do you think?” Hiccup sat on the stool in front of the forge fire. On the bench beside him he’d laid out the bits and pieces he’d been working on.

The wooden attachment for his new leg was finished, as were the individual metal pieces that would make up the ‘feet’. Hiccup held the new flying attachment for Toothless to inspect.

“This is just one part,” Hiccup explained. “But I won’t have to change my leg every time it snows.” He exchanged the flying attachment with the walking attachment.

The dragon sniffed curiously at the metal. He gave a big grin.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” Hiccup put the foot down and picked up the wooden cup. He’d lined the inside so that it would be comfortable on his leg. The gears were tricky to fit together, they needed to move smoothly when the bottom section was twisted.

Hiccup worked slowly, attaching bits of metal, tightening nuts and screws, explaining the process to Toothless as his fingers carefully pieced his new leg together. The dragon sat and watched while his rider muttered about the different components. He knew Hiccup liked to talk as he worked.

With an experimental twist, Hiccup switched the legs over.

“Huh, it works. Should we test it out?”

Hiccup removed his old leg to attach the new one. It was a good fit. Even before the crash he’d been meaning to upgrade his leg, his old one had been getting a bit short.

He stood, testing how the new prosthetic held his weight. Toothless eyed the contraption warily as it creaked, but the metal held. Hiccup balanced on one foot as he switched the feet over and tested each one. His ribs only protested slightly as he bent over. After weeks of taking it slow and resting he was almost completely healed.

When Hiccup had rebuilt Toothless’s flying harness, he had removed the old foot pedal in preparation for his new prosthetic leg. He’d been using the new handles he’d installed to fly while he completed the leg. In place of the old pedal, he’d attached a new lever, one that would connect to his new foot.

“We’ll take it slow,” he told Toothless. “Stay low to the ground until we’re sure this works.” He climbed up into the saddle and reached down to twist the dial that would switch his feet over Carefully, he slid his foot into place. It latched with a click.

Toothless gave a wiggle and hopped forwards out of the forge and into the open area outside. Muscles bunched and flexed as the dragon leapt into the air. As they gained height, Hiccup shifted the new pedal experimentally.

The movement was different and would take some getting used to, but the gears turned smoothly and the tail popped open easily.

“This is it bud,” Hiccup lay a hand against Toothless’s neck. “Let’s see what it can do.”

They climbed higher into the wispy clouds above Berk.

With another click, the lever slid forward and Toothless dived down towards the ocean. They pulled up at the last moment barely grazing the ocean. Hiccup closed his eyes against the salty sea spray.

Warbling in joy, Toothless spun in the air. They were close enough to the water that Hiccup’s head got a good dunking.

The Viking snorted sea water from his nose as the dragon righted himself.

“Really Toothless?” The dragon snorted and they climbed again, turning for Berk. Astrid was waiting for them when they touched down.

“You look like you’ve been struck by lightning.” She was grinning.

Hiccup looked at her, confused. Astrid gestured towards her hair. Hiccup took the hint and raised a hand to his own hair, newly dried from the wind.  He could feel that it was sticking out at all angles, so he ran a hand through the locks in an attempt to smooth them down. Astrid was laughing at him, so Hiccup figured he’d failed. Maybe he needed a helmet. With a visor.  That would help with visibility and keeping the wind out of his eyes.

Hiccup was already making the plans in his head. He missed the last part Astrid had said.

“I’m sorry, I promise I’m listening now.” Hiccup made another quick attempt to smooth his hair. Astrid beckoned him over to fix the damage.

“I said you look pleased with yourself.”  She twisted another braid behind his ear under the pretence of untangling.

“Can you tell what’s changed?”

Astrid held Hiccup at arm’s length to look him over.

“Well, your hair extra big today, but I don’t think that’s it,” she teased. “You finished the foot!”

She directed Hiccup to sit so she could examine his new prosthetic.

“This is really amazing work Hiccup.” Astrid finally clambered back to her feet. “But now that you’re longer grounded, we have some work to do.”

“You’re right,” Hiccup stood and brushed the snow from his pants. “Shall we Milady?”

[backtomyfirstfandom]

Belgian Freelancers (a Tintin Fanfiction)

Chapter II -What's Left of the Bombs

Tintin is back, Haddock doesn't want to leave him alone more than necessary and they discuss about what happened in Belgium after Tintin left (also about the kids).

Part one.

Prequel.

Tintin spent his time in the bathtub washing himself from the mud until he could recognise himself again. It took him half an hour to do so (mostly because he didn't want to get out of the warm water despite how warm the weather was).

Looking at himself through the mirror, Tintin still wasn't the same reporter that had left Moulinsart four years before: he had grown skinnier, his eyes were alert and hair shorter; he showed the effects of the war simply by walking around, with tensed muscles and fingers scarred after fighting with barbed wire.

Even if he might have noticed the fatigue in the reporter's eyes (and Tintin was perfectly sure that such a thing couldn't go unnoticed), Haddock didn't raise the topic and happily kept him company as he ate, while the kids still were playing outside.

-I thought we were neutral. How is it full of Nazis? - Tintin asked Haddock as he ate a fork full of chips.

-I'm not very sure about what happened, but Germans apparently used us as a passage in order to get to France - Haddock answered and Tintin listened carefully, half distracted by his food.

-It happened not so much after you left - the captain added.

As Tintin was about to speak again, the kids came running into the dining room, chasing after a ball.

-No balls inside the house! - Haddock shouted, and the kids ran out giggling after catching the ball.

The reporter smiled at the amused (and surprisingly pleased) expression that appeared on the seaman's face as he turned towards the table again.

-Some of us managed to escape to United Kingdom - Haddock said.

-Why did you stay? - Tintin asked, genuinely curious.

-Because I had no clue about when you would have come back -

The answer brought the reporter to smile brightly, a smile that he tried to hide shyly into a glass of water as he felt himself blushing.

-Oh, captain. I would have figured it out - the reporter replied.

-I don't want you to do it alone. The situation is not the best -

The ginger replied in agreement, knowing far too well how Nazis could be ferocious; he had seen them in every possible occasion, but had somehow survived any of them, even if he couldn't escape the memories.

The relaxed atmosphere was ruined as (hearing the kids giggling outside) Tintin remembered that the presence of those children was quite odd.

-Haddock, are those kids yours? - the reporter suddenly asked and saw how the captain tensed.

-Oh, that...well...lad, it's complicated - the seaman stuttered and Tintin knew the explanation wasn't going to be pleasant for him.

He waited for Haddock to talk further, a mixture of anger and pain raising in his chest as he watched the man trying to find the right words.

-Yes, those are mine... - Haddock started, but stopped as the reporter sighed heavily.

-I don't think I can be mad about that - he muttered and the captain jumped on his chair, gaining a confused glare by Tintin.

-René, let me finish - Haddock quickly said and the ginger stayed quite as he was called by name - They're mine, but not really - the captain continued.

Tintin froze on the spot, still wearing the confused expression of someone who was not getting the point of the argument.

-Haddock, what the fu... -

-I've adopted them - the captain quickly explained, cutting Tintin's curse off.

The confused expression left the ginger's face as he nodded slowly, relieved about the statement.

-Okay. that makes sense. Why though? -

-You know what Nazis are doing, right? - Haddock asked in return, assuming that Tintin had found out about something while reporting in France.

-It's not like they let their secrets under the eyes of civilians, but yes - the reporter answered.

-Those kids are Jewish - Haddock explained and the ginger immediately knew what the issue was about - I'm fostering them for their parents until the war is over...and even after if things go wrong - the captain explained.

-So, they're registered under your surname? - Tintin asked.

-Legally changed their names as soon as the Germans started walking on this land, before they could land their hands on the documents -

Tintin nodded again and drank another glass of water as shame expanded in his chest.

-Sweetie, I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions. It's just that the girl addressed you as "dad" and... - the reporter started and groaned as he covered his face in his hands.

He heard Haddock chuckling softly as he gently grabbed Tintin's arm and caressed those freckles that he loved so much.

-You had no clue. It's admissible: you left four years ago, went no contact for three and then find a bunch of kids playing just outside your partner's house - Haddock replied and brought the reporter to laughter.

-I'm still sorry about disappearing -

-I'm sure you had a more than valid reason for that -

-I did - the ginger confirmed, kissing Haddock's knuckles as he took his hand.

Realising only then how much he had missed physical contact, the reporter kept the captain's strong hand against his freckled cheek.

-What are the children's names? -

-The The redhead is Isobel Shoshana, but goes with Solange Isobel at the moment. The three twins are Jules, Matthieu and Sébastien -

-How do you distinguish them? - Tintin asked at that point.

-I don't - Haddock answered with a shrug and the reporter chuckled.

-You just call them and see who arrives? -

-Best strategy of my life -

Tintin laughed at the statement, relaxing in the chair.

-So you're a father now -

-Hey, don't you dare to leave me alone in this - Haddock said with a desperate expression, to which the ginger burst out laughing.

-Do you need help? -

-Yes, please: they barely listen to me -

-Do you think it would be any different with me? -

-Bloody yes: you behave like a marshal -

Laughing even harder, Tintin eventually nodded, recognising that this time Haddock was more than right.

-Alright, mon amour - the reporter said and got up.

-You know I hate that nickname - Haddock noticed irritated, getting up as well while Tintin giggled.

-No, you don't -

-No, you're right. I don't - Haddock replied with a soft smile as he leaned to kiss Tintin's cheek, grabbing his hips in order to prevent him from squirming away with a giggle.

-

Haddock was surprised by the way Tintin had managed to get the kids to go to sleep half an hour before the curfew.

They immediately listened to him as Tintin jokingly grabbed Isobel and dragged her to bed, while the three twins ran after them to try and save the laughing girl from the monster that the reporter was pretending to be. The only one who didn't listen to the ginger had been Snowy, which, despite being separated from its owner for so much time, insisted to sleep in the kids' room, guarding over them.

In the middle of the night a thunder storm broke out, the lightning illuminating the room as if it was morning. Haddock would have slept peacefully if only he didn't feel the constant presence of Tintin moving closer with every thunder, giving an uncomfortable wince.

Still half asleep, the captain, wrapped his arms tighter around him, gradually waking up.

-What's wrong, honey? - Haddock muttered.

-I'm sorry. I just can't fall asleep -

-Is it the thunderstorm? - the seaman asked and Tintin nodded, hiding his face in Haddock's neck at the umpteenth thunder.

Laying on his back, Haddock brought Tintin with himself and settled him on his chest, protectively holding his tensed figure.

-You've seen too many bombs, lad -

With a groan and a sigh, Tintin rested his head on Haddock's sternum, tensing as the thunderstorm went on.

-Do you think you'd be able to go back to sleep? -

-I can try - the reporter murmured, but didn't close his eyes.

Haddock ran a hand through his hair, trying to get him to relax enough to make him fall asleep; sighing happily, the reporter eventually closed his eyes, only tensing again as another lighting broke the silence.

The captain knew that the storm would have continued for another hour or so, and he sighed heavily at seeing his lover so scared by the sounds of nature when once he used to love them.

-I love you - Tintin muttered, so low that Haddock barely heard it.

-I love you too -

-

The next day, reduces of just a few hours of sleep due to distress caused by the storm, the couple almost fell asleep during breakfast, but that still didn't stop Tintin from checking the mail.

As he cursed loudly in German (to which the kids laughed), Haddock raised his gaze towards the reporter, who was reading the letter with concerned eyes.

-What's wrong? - the captain asked while Tintin slammed the letter he was holding on the table.

-They took my documentation of war when I came back, and now I've been invited to a Nazi party so that they can give it back -

-When? -

-Tonight - Tintin answered, drinking a long sip of tea.

-I'm coming with you - Haddock decided firmly.

-You really don't need to - Tintin replied and the captain shook his head.

-But I want to -

The way the reporter sighed and lowered his eyes back on the letter caused Haddock to change his mind, knowing that sometimes he had become too protective after Italy, but also aware of the fact that Tintin couldn't risk that much anymore.

-They want to ask me questions. Do you think it's bad? - the reporter asked.

-It depends on what you documented -

By the grin that Tintin gave him, Haddock understood that the information in his documentation were quite risking for the reporter.

-In that case, lie to everything they ask you - the captain replied, flinching to save his breakfast from Snowy.

-Captain, it's documented - Tintin protested.

-Deny everything: tell them you have no idea about what that means, that you think it's only a rumour, that there were no actual proofs... -

The reporter hummed in response, hoping that it would have been so easy as Haddock made it seem.

-

Next chapter is going to be full of things, I swear.

[turnupswritessometimes]

A Tangle of Strings - Ch2

RISE OF THE BRAVE TANGLED FROZEN DRAGONS HOGWARTS!AU FIC

Summary:  Rapunzel Corona’s facing her family history and identity, Merida Dunbroch’s hiding her secret Quidditch activities from her mother, Jack Frost is somehow a Head Boy, despite being in his fifth year, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third is hiding a dragon in the Forbidden Forest and Anna and Elsa Aren-Delle are switching places. To top it all off, OWL and NEWT exams are looming. But the strings of fate have tangled them together and something much bigger than all of them threatens Hogwarts.

Word Count : 6,044

Chapter Two : [Looking for Trouble]

It was dusk by the time they reached The Leaky Cauldron, which was actually convenient as Eugene wouldn't have been able to land if there were still tons of muggles milling around outside.

Rapunzel shakily climbed off of the broom, her hand slipping into Eugene's as they walked into the pub. The events of the last three hours hadn't seemed real. She was sure that she had fallen asleep on the broom and dreamt the whole thing.

But no. Her hair was gone. A fact she was consantly reminded off as Flynn checked them in until the first of September - the day they would return to Hogwarts. She was so nervous that she kept going to fiddle with her hair, to start a plait that she didn't have time to finish, to tuck it behind her ear. It was still a start to feel the few inches of brown that were left. A huge weight seemed to be off of her shoulders - figuritively and metaphorically and she wasn't sure how to take it.

Suddenly, fingers were snapped under her nose and she blinked as she came out of her thoughts.

"Blondie," Flynn had called loudly, then he'd dropped his voice. "I was saying that I can only afford one room - that okay?"

"Oh, um, yes," Rapunzel managed to reply, her cheeks red.

On her shoulder, Pascal nudged her cheek and she scratched his head with her forefinger absently.

"Good," Flynn said. Maybe just to fill the silence. "Let's sit somewhere."

So Rapunzel followed him through the dim lighting, swerving past flailing arms and bustling people until Flynn found an empty table, pulling a chair out for her. He flopped into the opposite one, running his hands through his usually carefully crafted hair.

They sat in silence, looking around them at the interesting company. Listening to odd snatches of conversation.

After a time, Rapunzel's eyes turned back to Flynn Rider. His gaze was hollow and distant and his hand was resting on his chest, his fingers twitching slightly.

Half because she wanted the comfort, Rapunzel slipped her hand over his, stopping his fourth finger from rhythmically tapping on the table.

His fingers folded under hers and she thought she heard him sigh.

"It's been a long day," she murmured. "Should we just get some rest?"

Eugene's eyes slipped to hers. He took a deep breath.

"Sure, blondie," he said, then he seemed to look at her hair again. "Um, I mean...sure."

Rapunzel managed a weak smile.

It seemed an effort for Eugene to get up from the chair and they walked in silence up the rickety, narrow staircase. The only thing that remained constant was their linked hands.

The room was small. Just enough room for a bed, chest of drawers, bedside table and a dusty lamp.

Eugene took a pillow and insisted on sleeping on the floor, his travelling cape pulled over him. Rapunzel tried to protest, but was too tired to keep it up. She collapsed on the bed, her fingers finally slipping from Eugene's, and was asleep within an instant.

Morning light streamed through curtains they had forgotten to shut. Rapunzel stirred, fancying Eugene's arms to be around her, but not wanting to open her eyes and find herself disappointed.

Her thoughts wandered. It was basically this time last year that they had met. A few days into term with Rapunzel wandering through the halls, trying to find her class but feeling completely lost.

A boy had suddenly burst through a tapestry to her left. A boy with messy hair and a glint in his mischevious eyes. And a Slytherin tie.

Rapunzel had shrank back against the wall. The other Hufflepuff's had been honest - Slytherins weren't that bad, the only people who really hated them were Gryffindors; but stay on their good side because they hold a grudge.

He had still terrified her.

He had stared at her too. His eyes on her hair, which, though considerably shorter then, trailed down to her ankles easily.

"I think I lost them," he panted, as though she were his partner in crime. It gave her a thrill. She was going to get dragged into trouble. Into an adventure.

Like her tween novels!

"Lost who?" Rapunzel had squeaked.

There were sudden shouts from behind the tapestry.

The boy heard too. He stiffened.

Then he had grabbed her wrist and pulled her along the corridor. Her hair tripped her up and fell in her eyes and her heart had pounded.

Without warning, the boy pulled her behind another tapestry, revealing a small cubby hole behind it. She had pulled her hair in after her like rope, smothering both of them.

Their hands were clasped over their mouths and they were breathing heavily in the darkness.

Footsteps had thundered past, with yells of "Ryder! You liar - you bloody cheat!" but disappeared down the hallway.

He had lifted the tapestry and the two stood in the hallway, half-giggling breathlessly.

"I'm Rapunzel," she had said, holding out her hand. The boy had blinked at it, then fixed a charming smile on his face.

"Ryder. Flynn Ryder," he had said, shaking her hand. "But you can call me Flynn."

And she had. Everytime she saw him she dropped what she was doing to talk to him. She hadn't realised how much of a nuisance she had been. But he never said anything. He treated her with somewhat amusement at first, seeing how long he could string her along for, but then he had started to like her. He treated her like a mate, didn't flirt with her like he did the other girls and they had started to beg her for tips on getting her attention.

That had never been her concern. All she had wanted was a friend.

And she still had one, even though they had kissed and she wasn't sure where their relationship would lead to now.

She hesitantly opened her eyes and her heart leapt when she saw that Flynn's arms were around her. The sheets were half-tangled around them and Rapunzel still had one leg resting on the mattress. She didn't know whether she had been pulled or just fell.

At her stirring, she felt Flynn's breath on her neck.

"Mornin'," he mumbled.

Rapunzel rolled to her back, feeling immensely lighter.

"I'm here," she whispered, mostly to herself. "I'm actually here."

Eugene groaned and sat up, rubbing an eye with the heel of his palm. He fixed his dark eyes on her.

"Let's just...just not get into the crazy mother, and the dying, and the kidnapping." He said. His morning voice was husky and deep.

"Kidnapping?" Rapunzel echoed, sitting up as well. It felt odd not have to worry about catching her hair. Her head felt so light. All of her felt so light. "I'm not a kid."

Eugene's only answer was the raise of an eyebrow.

"It was my birthday yesterday!" Rapunzel told him defiantly. Then she frowned. "Oh, it was my birthday yesterday."

"You had other things on your mind," Eugene shrugged. Then he smirked. "Aw, you would have broken a law for me."

She frowned at him.

But then he placed a kiss on her forehead and she found herself smiling.

"C'mon," he said, standing up as slowly as an old man. "Let's get you a proper birthday celebration."

Rapunzel's 'birthday' celebration lasted the few days they had left before they returned to Hogwarts. It mainly featured ice cream, Eugene holding her hand as she read for hours and little kisses whenever no one was looking.

As the first of September came rolling around, Rapunzel found herself getting nervous. Eugene was popular at Hogwarts, and though she had friends, she was mostly ignored. What if he started ignoring her? Or wouldn't see her? Or called it off between them?

He was at her side when they passed through the barrier to King's Cross. But then a ginger-haired Slytherin called out to him and he dropped Rapunzel's fingers. It felt like cutting a string. A life-line.

She recognised the Slytherin from the Quidditch team - a chaser who's name escaped her. The only reason she had ever woken up in the freezing cold and sat in the stadium for hours was to support Eugene.

They ended up sitting in a compartment with the Slytherin. The two beaters Rapunzel recognised as well, the Stabbington Brothers who shared half a brain between them. They had always seemed to have beef with Eugene, though it was waved off so many times Rapunzel never could keep track. In truth, the three of them made her feel uncomfortable. But she stayed because every so often Eugene's eyes would catch hers and his smile would change ever so slightly to be reassuring.

As the train was leaving the station, however, there was a knock at the compartment glass. Rapunzel's heart leapt as she saw two girls looking in at them, one grinning wildly and the other looking nervous.

"Elsa," she waved as the compartment door was opened. "Come sit with me."

"Elsa, it'll be fine," Anna's owl was rocking precariously on top of her luggage as she bounded down the station.

Elsa followed as quickly as she could, pushing her own trolley. She wished she was her barn owl, and could look in every direction for trouble.

"I really...Anna, he's in my year," she said.

"So?" Anna turned, her trolley resting on the step up to the train. "I hang out with you enough, don't I?"

Elsa opened and closed her mouth in an attempt to think of something to say.

Anna disappeared onto the train and she desperately followed. Because she knew what kind of a guy Hans was - heard the way he talked about women - and had to protect her baby sister from him.

When Anna had first started going to Quidditch matches, Elsa had assumed it had been to support her. After all, they were both chasers on their respective house teams; and Elsa always cheered Anna on as hard as she could.

It turns out, Anna had a crush on Hans. And he had strung her along like a duckling. A gullible little duckling. He made a fuss of her in front of his friends and made her feel special and ocassionally threw a rose her way to keep her keen.

And Anna was falling for it.

She was deaf to Elsa's protests, checking in every compartment until she found the one with him in. She tapped on the glass and started waving and at that point Elsa stopped trying. Maybe she could back away...maybe they wouldn't have seen her.

"Elsa," a voice called. A cheeful voice. A voice unaware of the damage it just caused. "Come sit with me."

Elsa turned, and for a moment didn't recognise the girl calling to her. She had Rapunzel's glittering green eyes, rosy cheeks and bow shaped lips, but her hair.

Rapunzel's hair had made Elsa's white-blonde colour seem normal. Her blonde hair had been long in their first year, and before the summer it must have been twice her height.

But now it was shorn, barely reaching her ears and curling like wet paper at the ends. It had turned a chestnut colour, like autumn leaves.

It suited her. Startingly so. Elsa found her cheeks warming more than usual when she looked at her.

Unfortunately, Hans was looking between them both.

"Oh no, I don't think so," he drawled. "We don't need someone with the magical control of a first year to sit with us."

"She's on the Quidditch team as well," Rapunzel murmured, frowning slightly.

"She was," Hans said. There was a nasty glint in his eyes - Elsa wondered how she was the only one who could see it. "But we'll have to hold new trials this year, what with a new captain and all. Who knows if Elsa will still get in."

Something told Elsa that no matter who was the captain of Ravenclaw, Hans had made sure she didn't have a chance of getting in.

"Oh yeah," the other boy in the compartment - Flynn Rider, suddenly spoke up. "You're the captain of Slytherin, aren't you?"

Hans only have a smug nod in return.

"Don't be silly, Hans," Anna finally spoke up, that simpering puppy-love grin appearing on her face. "She's my sister - she's as good a flier as I am."

"And who lost to Slytherin last year?" Hans asked her sarcastically, earning a chuckle from the Stabbington Brothers.

"I-I let you win," Anna pouted, and Hans' expression seeemd to soften. He held out a hand to Anna, who's expression immediately changed to one of ecstasy. She giggled like a fool as she was pulled into his lap.

Elsa was left dithering in the passage, now with two lots of luggage.

Rapunzel was still smiling at Elsa, though now she seemed unsure.

Flynn Rider also caught her eye, and he gestured with his head for her to move on. But his eyes were more concerned than spiteful.

Despite his warning, she waited just a moment too long.

"Elsa," Hans said. His tone was still warm, but there was an underlying nastiness under his words. "No offence, but - we don't want any sudden snow-storms."

She felt her face redden at the memory of her fourth year charms class being asailed with snow when she had started to panic about the complexity of a spell.

"Yeah, I'm not really in the mood for hail," one of the Stabbington Brothers - Elsa could never tell them apart - grunted. His brother laughed, even though it wasn't that funny.

Elsa had pushed that disasterous Quidditch match from her mind, but now it swam in front of her like a dementor. Her fingers felt cold and she clenched her fists in an attempt to stop it.

"It wasn't her fault, Hans," Anna said, her voice was still lighthearted - taking it all to be teasing. Anna never was very good at reading a room, especially when her long time crush had his hands on her waist.

"I just wonder how she got top marks last year but is a complete disaster when stressed," Hans shrugged, turning the 'nice-guy' tone back on like clockwork when he looked at Anna. "We must have sat the coldest OWL exams ever."

"I don't think so," Rapunzel suddenly spoke up. Then she saw the way the boys - even Flynn - were looking at her and her mouth snapped shut.

Elsa's stomach had dropped. A familiar cold was creeping up her wrists - cold of rejection and humiliation and shame.

She could see frost starting to snake up the doors of the compartment - which filled her with even more dread. She knew Hans' sharp eyes would spot it too.

She closed her eyes - wishing it all to stop.

"Would you two bring Anna's luggage it for her?" Hans' voice cut through Elsa's fear.

The Stabbington Brother's had stood, each lumbering towards Anna's cases, effectively blocking the door from Elsa. The meaning couldn't have been clearer.

"I'll uh, see you later, Anna," she called meekly, unable even to see her sister.

As she headed down the hallway, she heard an indistinct voice and men's laughter.

The bar of her trolley was suddenly covered in ice.

As soon as she saw an empty compartment, she dived in and pulled her glove on. She forced herself to take calming breaths. To calm down.

A complete disaster.

She had to repress all of the memories at threatened to swallow her, otherwise...

Complete disaster...

... ... disaster.

She was a disaster.

The compartment door suddenly opened and she jumped out of her skin. For a moment she hoped it was Anna - come to sit with her after all. Or even Rapunzel.

But it wasn't. It was a girl in her year, looking at her with just as much shock. Elsa recognised her - a prefect with grades almost as good as hers - Toothiana.

Unlike Elsa, she was popular despite her oddities. Despite reading the Quibbler, and 'talking' to fairies, and seeing creatures pulling the carriages to Hogwarts. Maybe it was her hair - dark with blonde highlights that shone green and blue when light hit them. Maybe it was the way her violet eyes glittered like stars. Or maybe it was her warm laugh and easy going demeanor.

She was everything that Elsa wanted to be.

"Oh, Elsa," Toothiana said now. "I thought this was an empty carriage. I was just looking for somewhere to sit before the Head of House meeting."

"You're," Elsa was finding it hard to breathe, much less talk. "...Headgirl, then?"

"Yes," Toothiana smiled, showing her perfect, dazzling white teeth.

Elsa had to look away. It was near impossible to swallow.

Toothiana sat across from Elsa, streching her legs out - seemingly effortlessly tanned. She was already wearing her uniform.

"It's cold in here," Toothiana commented after a moment.

"Sorry," Elsa said automatically, her face beetroot red as Toothiana gave a tinkling laugh.

"It's not your fault."

The words made Elsa pause.

Was it? Not her fault?

She thought it was - in this case she knew it was her uncontrollable feelings that had made it so cold in here.

But having strong magic wasn't her fault...was it?

She wished she was Anna. Then she could fit in. Be normal. Just like everyone else.

"Elsa-" Toothiana continued. "I wanted to try out for the Quidditch team this year-" understandable, she flew everywhere. "-But I'm too scared to go alone. Try out with me?"

"Me?" Elsa stammered. They weren't friends, they hardly spoke to each other and yet - Toohiana wanted Elsa to try out with her. "Sure."

She had said it before her stomach dropped. Hans' words came rushing back to her.

Who knows if Elsa will be able to get in?

Jack had felt bad to ask so much money off of Merry.

But he quickly forgot his guilt when he saw his little sister with brand new robes standing by her trunk. She'd fit in. She'd be fine.

"I'm still so shocked you managed to find these - they look like they've never been worn," their mother gushed, her cheeks pink.

"Yeah, it was a bargain," Jack winked at Mary, who giggled conspiritorally.

The two smiled at the camera; that awkward sibling smile when Jack had to stand with his hand on her shoulder and she had to not punch him.

"Okay, that's done, can we go?" Mary begged impatiently as soon as the flash went off.

"I want to take another one in case - oh, Jack!" their mother looked with despair as Jack's hair turned snowy white once again.

"We're going to be late," he said in his defence, pausing to noogie Mary before grabbing the floo powder.

They travelled to King's Cross, their mother forgetting her anger when she realised she wouldn't see them until Christmas, at least.

Jack, however, just felt jumpy. Like someone was going to jump out and laugh at him for believing the Head Boy badge. He had slipped it into his pocket when his mother's back was turned, but it seemed to be ten times heavier than it should be.

He jumped straight out of his skin when someone all but jumped on his back, yelling practically incoherently. In fact, he yelped. Like a dog.

Then, whilst his sister was laughing at him, he tuned into Merry's Scottish accent and forced himself to relax.

"Yeah, I've got your bloomin' broom," he muttered, shrugging it off his shoulders.

Merry practically snatched it from his hands, eyes wide.

"Where's your mum, then?" he asked.

"Ah, I said I'd be fine on my own this year," Merry shrugged, carefully placing the broom on the top of the already heavily laden trolley and starting forward to the wall.

Jack resigned himself to following, his little sister giggling in his ear and Merry chatting a mile a minute in his ear.

"If that's all..." Jack said slowly, one hand on Mary's shoulder to steer her away.

"Actually, Jack, I was thinkin'," Merry said from behind him. He surpressed a sigh and turned back. "Could you sit with me?"

Jack nodded. He knew it better than to make a big deal of it. Merry was friends with everyone in the class, sure, but Merry wasn't really close to anyone. At Christmas it was always family time; Jack just assumed that was first priority.

But maybe Merry was just awkward - weird for a pureblood - but the 'flying ban' was even weirder.

"Right, Mary," Jack said, ruffling his little sister's hair just to annoy her. "The best way to make friends is to go into a random carriage and say all the others are taken."

"I know. I'm not the one who has trouble making friends." Mary stuck her tongue out at Jack, before she headed down the platform, her trolley clattering in front of her.

It was true. Jack was on good terms with everyone but he didn't really have any friends.

Except Merry. He guessed.

They found a compartment on the train and locked the door to stop first years coming in. Then Jack relaxed and leant back. Merry was starting at the broom like it was the Holy Grail.

There was a comfortable silence as the train pulled out of the station and started chugging along.

Jack pulled a weather beaten pack of cards from his bag and the played blackjack for a bit - but Merry was awful at Muggle card games and got bored quickly.

There was a sudden crash at the window.

They both jumped. A boy's face was pushed against the glass. He hurriedly started to tug at the door handle.

"What the heck?" Merry asked. Half with awe, and half with disgust.

Jack sighed.

"That's Hiccup," he said. Their parents knew each other and as such, they always had that 'my mum buys you birthday presents, but we don't talk' relationship that was just plain awkward. It was better to pretend that they didn't know each other at all.

But Hiccup was mouthing the words 'please', and had such a genuine look of terror on his face that Jack decided to abandon the rule. He got up and lazilly unlocked the door of the compartment.

Hiccup rushed in like a rabid dog was at his heels and collapsed on one of the seats, his hand over his chest.

"Thank you," he gasped. His hand was over his chest.

"What the bloody hell was that about?" Merry asked as Jack locked the door back up. And not a moment to soon. It took everything he had not to leap back as three more faces pushed up against the glass. He couldn't tell if they had been cursed or not.

"Them," Hiccup replied. He was viewing them with an expression of distaste - like he had just swallowed a ball of wasabi. Merida was watching with a disgusted fascination - like watching a snake swallow prey on a nature documentary.

Jack recognised the three Gryffindors.

"Merry, meet your future team mates," he said. "Gryffindor's beaters, and chaser."

Merida made a face and muttered "yeah, I know who they are," then stood suddenly and swung the compartment door open with such a force that the three recoiled.

"Get out of my face before I hex you into next week!" Merry snapped, then slammed the door closed again.

The three outside the door - Ruffnut, Tuffnut and Snotlout - looked at each other with wide eyes, before they went scuttling back down the corridor.

Merida sat back down and crosed a leg over the other, muttering indistinctly.

Hiccup looked terrified, but Jack was used to it. Merry's hair matched the temper.

There was a tense silence. Then Merry stood suddenly.

"I'm going to get go changed. Don't touch my broom."

Jack turned to Hiccup with a small smirk.

"So, what was all that about?"

Merida stared at herself in the small mirror in the train bathroom. It was spotted with age and made her seem even paler. She took a deep breath, conscious of how odd the skirt felt around her legs. How tight the long socks seemed.

Her mother had insisted on a skirt this year. Now that Merida was fifteen and was becoming a young woman. She had wanted to protest. But then she remembered the contraband broom and agreed reluctantly. It was just an item of clothing. Loads of other girls wore it.

She immediately regretted the decision when she opened the train door and saw Astrid Hofferson standing there. The seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"H-Hi," she said. She always found it hard to talk to Astrid. She was just - always so cool.

"You done?" Astrid asked. She seemed so indifferent.

"Yeah, s-sorry," Merida prayed the train wouldn't rattle so much as she squeezed past.

She had almost taken two steps before she turned again. Astrid was just sliding the door closed.

"Hey, um, are you wearing a skirt this year, for school?" she asked.

Astrid looked at her like she was crazy.

"Of course."

With that, she shut the door to the bathroom. Merida paused. It was the most they had ever spoke and she felt almost blessed. Though it hadn't seemed like Astrid really cared very much.

Merida started down the train. Maybe when she joined the Quidditch team...

Maybe then...

Merida kept thinking about their conversation as she headed down the train. What if she had said this instead of that? What would Astrid have said then?

Because Merida was despereate to be friends with Astrid. To have a best friend. A best friend who was a girl with the same interests as her...

This year. She would make it happen.

Merida opened the door to their compartment with this resolve -

- And was met with hysterical laughter from Jack.

"W-What?!" she yelped. Her face felt like it was on fire. "I know it looks bad - but it's not that bad!"

"No, no, it looks -" Jack coughed as he tried to control his laughter. He looked at Merida for a moment, his eyes welling before he burst out laughing again.

"I think you look nice," Hiccup said politely. He was sat in a small huddle by the window, a book on his lap. He kept looking at Jack nervously.

"Sure - you've got the legs for it -" Jack said through fits of laughter. "But why are you wearing a skirt, Merry?"

"My - my mam wanted me to, okay?" she replied, self-consciously tugging at the hem of the skirt.

"I guess your mum really wants a girl, huh?" Jack said, still sniggering.

He stopped as an awkward silence fell over the carriage. He looked from Merida to Hiccup.

"What?" he asked.

Merida couldn't reply. She was so stunned. Eventually, Hiccup cleared his throat.

"Um, Jack? Merida is a girl." He said.

"M - Merry - Merida?" he stammered. Suddenly his eyes were as wide as saucepans, as though he were seeing her in a whole new light.

"Yeah," Merida snappped, her cheeks still aflame.

There was another awkward moment - then red suddenly flashed across Jack's cheeks.

Merida plopped into a seat and crossed a leg over the chair.

Jack was sat in a shcoked silence, staring off into space. Hiccup was trying, and for the most part, failing, to control a flurry of giggles.

"Hiccup," Merida said measuredly, pointedly not looking at Jack.

"Yes?" he seemed almost nervous.

"Can I see your charms homework?"

"Sure."

He dutifully fetched it from his bag. They hadn't really spoken before now. But they had been in the same class for the last five years and Merida knew he was good at the subject. It wasn't Merida's strong point, and she was worried her essay didn't make sense.

She had been staring at Hiccup's essay for a good minute before Jack spoke again.

"Merry's a...girl...?" he said, as though it amazed him.

"Yes, Jack," she snapped.

"How did you not know?" Hiccup asked, unable to stop himself smiling.

"Well - Merry's a guy in Lord of the Rings - right?" Jack stammered.

Hiccup just laughed again.

"Drop it." Merida said. "It doesn't matter."

Hiccup looked like he was going to object but saw the look on Merida's face and fell silent.

She wasn't quite sure what she was feeling. She was embarrassed of course, and thought Jack was a complete idiot. She wanted to laugh it off, but she was kind of offended. They were meant to be close - Jack was the only person she felt close to - but now it felt like he didn't know her at all. She was kind of angry that he had been so blind. And she was scared that he suddenly wouldn't want to hang out with her anymore.

She hoped that Jack would come up with another joke, that she could find a witty remark to say, but instead the air in the carriage become awkward. And the awkwardness just sat in the air, like a hot day.

Eventually, when it felt suffocating, Jack and Hiccup left to go and get changed. This was not the start of the year that she had been hoping for.

She sat for a moment - the countryside was turning blue and purple in the dusk.

Merida picked up her broom and left the carriage. She wanted to be alone.

Hiccup had managed to evade Jack's questions. He had made up an off-hand lie about what had happened and then none too suddenly changed the subject. And it had worked. Jack may have gotten decent marks in class, but he was hardly observant when it came to people.

Or maybe he chose not to be.

Either way, the drama with Merida had definitely set a rift between them. A gaping chasm.

Jack was thoughtful when they returned to the empty carriage. He didn't seem surprised that Merida had left.

"God," he muttered under his breath. "The conversations we've had..."

"Do I want to know?" Hiccup asked to deaf ears.

"Y'know, it actually kind of makes sense." He continued. He sat back down, so Hiccup did too. It was silent in the carriage. Jack was staring out of the window, his brows still drawn together. He was fiddling with something in the pocket of his robes.

Hiccup just started reading again, and the time seemed to pass at a snail's pace, but eventually the train rolled into Hogsmeade station.

It was full of other people, pressing against each other as they milled lazilly towards the carriages.

"Merry!" Jack called over the crowd. Hiccup saw a flash of unruly red hair, but Merida disappeared into the crowd without a reply. Hiccup spotted Astrid's blonde hair neaby. For just a moment, she turned to him - and he felt his heart stop as she was bundled into a horseless carriage.

It started moving just as her blue eyes flickered away from him.

He was okay now. He was safe. He could avoid Snotlout and the others - there were secret passages. As long as he kept his head down, he could get through this.

The sorting ceremony was uneventful. There was a distinct whispering coming from the older Hufflepuff's, but they pulled themselves together to cheer when a little girl - Hiccup recognised her as Jack's sister - was sorted into their house.

McGonagall made a speech. There was a new Defence Against Dark Arts teacher. They ate. They went to bed.

Just let year go okay, Hiccup thought to himself as he lay in the boy's dormitory. Just let everything be normal.

A day later, Hiccup knew the year wasn't going to be normal. It had started of fine - he had gotten his new timetable and he only shared charms with the Gryffindor's - and there was so much chaos trying to configure toads into todstools that he went by unnoticed.

But then he had gone to Hagrid's hut. He had been a regular visitor since his third year - since he had realised that this - Care of Magical Creatures - was what he wanted to do. He was good with the creatures - they semeed to naturally like him. They were a lot easier to make friends with than people.

(His dad, of course, didn't know about this secret passion, of course.)

Anyway, since then, he and Hagrid had grown close. If he managed to stay late enough, and not have an early start the next day, Hagrid would even take him into the Forbidden Forest. He had caught glimpses of centaurs and even a unicorn. It was amazing.

Today though, Hagrid was fidgety and pale beneath his bushy beard and eyebrows.

"There's been, uh, trouble 'ere over the summer," he said, as Hiccup sat at the huge table with a rockcake in front of him. He liked Hagrid's house - it made him feel like a child again.

"What do you mean?" Hiccup asked. He sipped tea from a huge flagon.

"Well - I might have taken - a short holiday-" Hagrid shuffled uncomfortably as Hiccup raised an eyebrow. " - Well - I thought 'e'd like it 'ere - but 'e doesn't - or maybe 'e don't like me - but now 'e's terrorising the whole forest!"

"Wait," Hiccup heled up a hand to stop Hagrid's panicked snowballing. "Who's 'he'?"Hagrid hesitated - and in that moment Hiccup heard it in the distance - a roar.

"Is that a-" he stopped short. He couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Dragon." Hagrid managed to finish, though he didn't have the grace to look ashamed of himself.

Hiccup was stunned. He had only been allowed to go dragon hunting a few times, and then he had to stay in the background with Gobber and not get hurt. Whilst everyone showed off - fighting and slaying dragons - he had been stuck like a child in the hut. That was how you got honour in their community, so, needless to say that he had none.

Hgrid took his silence as a judgement and continued.

"There was a bunch o' them ruddy dragon hunters after it - and I just - I couldn't stand by and let 'em kill 'im."

Everything snapped into place so nearly that Hiccup almost fell over. He knew that dragon. And he knew who was after it.

His father had come home complaining that they had been close - so close - to catching 'a beauty' of a dragon.

But it had alluded them.

Evidently, it hadn't escaped from Hagrid's well-meaning grasp.

"I can't believe-" It. You. Hiccup stopped short, Hagrid's defences seemed to fade into the background.

The dragon that not even his dad could catch was at Hogwarts. And only he knew. If he could capture it-

If he could bring it back- Or even just a piece - to prove that he had.

The possibilities flooded into his head. He'd just be like everybody else - he'd be able to show off. He'd fit in - his dad would accept him.

He didn't even have to kill it. He could bring a small piece back.

As long as Hagrid didn't know he would be fine.

The year was not going to be normal. But it was going to be excellent.