#tarched

It wasn’t his charming grin, or his mesmerizing green eyes, or the oh-so-cool way his hair rippled in the wind as they sped through the air, or how his “flight suit” was tight enough to really highlight his lean, muscular build, especially his legs and ass.

Now certainly, Astrid still noted these things during the flight, but today she was more engrossed by something a little less tangible, the simple fact that he was going to be her husband. It was distracting enough that now, sitting behind him by a lazily-flowing stream and pulling at the grass to prevent herself from reaching out tying another braid into Hiccup’s hair, she couldn’t focus at all on what he was saying. He was scribbling something into his little drawing book with a charcoal, staring at the horizon. He was saying words, talking about something interesting, certainly, things that usually got her attention—she heard “fire” and “war” and “dragons” mentioned frequently—but today...today she just didn’t feel like talking.

She was excited about marriage. Ecstatic, really. But then she thought of what she was like when she was fourteen, what that younger Astrid would think if some norn had seen her future and told her that she was destined to marry Hiccup “the Useless”, Chief Stoick’s embarrassment of a son...out of love, no less. It was fortunate that none had tried back then, as it actually might have ended with a very dead norn.

How suddenly, how decisively, things could change, if not in an instant than at a rapid, tumultuous pace. Much like...a dragon raid from the days of old—Funny how the last one was actually only five years ago, yet it seemed so far back in the past. Yes, she liked that analogy. She just hoped she’d remember it.

Astrid knew she could have just said “Hiccup” or punched him in the shoulder to get his attention. But for some reason it felt like cheating. That was her style. Hiccup was usually a bit more...subtle? No, fancy. What was it he called it, “Hiccup flair”? “Haddock charm”? So, seeing as how she was going to be a Haddock soon...

Over the past five years since the dragon raids stopped, since Hiccup and Hiccup alone—his attempts to share the credit with others be damned—turned dragons from Berk’s worst enemy to its greatest friends, Astrid had been waging a war within herself, arguing over just what she and Berk ever deserved to have a person like Hiccup rescue it, someone with such a seemingly endless amount of love that he was able to share it with both creatures that were trying to kill him and a village that actively shunned and mocked him...yet still had more than enough in the end for her and her alone, so much that it sometimes she really did believe that her face was brighter than the sun, that no woman in the world had eyes or lips or breasts as stunning as hers, Freyja herself was actually jealous of her beauty, that the only thing more wonderfully golden than her hair was her heart. One time, just before a dragon race, she even believed him when he said that she was, by far, a better dragon rider than her. She got embarrassingly upset when Hiccup and Toothless won by fifteen points.

She began to undo her braid. Yes, letting her hair down was certain to get his attention, especially with this wind; she imagined her hair flowing wild and free, like strands of sunlight.

At some point, Hiccup must’ve realized that Astrid was up to something, as he suddenly put down the charcoal and turned his head back.

Astrid shot him a knowing smile. She placed a hand on her hip and smoothed her hair out with the other. Just for good measure, she briefly raised her eyebrows.

Much to her dismay, his blank stare simply became one of confusion. She felt her smile dissolve into a frown.

Hiccup seemed to take notice, and he started to shift uncomfortably, his eyes darting around in search of what was upsetting Astrid as if it wasn’t himself. “Umm...”

“Really?” Astrid threw her hands forward and shook her head in exasperation. “Don’t you, like...” She instinctively reached for her hair but quickly forced her hand away. No, Hiccup was clever enough to figure this out on his own.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again, raising a decisive finger this time...but for a long three seconds, nothing came out.

“Your—”

“My hair!” Astrid sighed, pulling on a lock for emphasis. “It’s down!”

“I-I was just about to say that.”

Because the gods wished to annoy her further, a gust of wind blew the hair out of her grasp, scattered strands falling back down all over her face.

That made Hiccup chuckle, which made her even more annoyed.

“For you,” she muttered.

“Sorry, sorry.” Hiccup scrambled to his feet, slipping his left hand into her right and using his other to brush those rogue strands of hair off to the side. “Don’t pout. Though it’s kind of ador—”

“I’m not pouting,” she lied, un-puckering her lips. Astrid was suddenly reminded of how tall Hiccup was as she craned her neck up to meet his gaze, though the effect was somewhat ruined when she noticed single hair, noticeably longer than the others, lazily jutting out of his chin. It was starting to get hard not to smile. Or pluck out that hair.

“And now I have to re-braid it all again,” she said, staring at the bits of her own blonde hair fluttering in the wind. “In this wind...”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Hiccup assured her as he rested his head on the fur padding her shoulder guards, nuzzling her neck. “You should wash your furs.”

“You should wash your hair,” she countered.

“Fair. It’s just...changing topics from ‘My mom was eaten by dragons’ to...this...”

“Ah.” Astrid suddenly felt guilty; is that what Hiccup had been going on about? His lost mother? And here she was, trying to seduce him like...some cheap harlot. She didn’t even get the seducing part right, either.

“And, and I guess it’s just that hair being down is so...” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Normal? I mean, considering that I’ve already seen, uh, the rest.”

Astrid smirked. “What, I have to take my shirt off to get your attention?”

Hiccup somehow slipped his head down from her shoulders until nose was somehow tucked between her breasts, his grin so large that she could see it through his unruly mop of reddish-brown hair. “Couldn’t hurt,” he mumbled.

Astrid lifted his head by his chin, suddenly feeling the need to tell him...something.

“Hiccup,” she said, resisting the urge to kiss him.

“Yes, milady?” She said nothing, and he slightly shook his head in confusion. What is it?”

Astrid smiled. Silly Hiccup. “Nothing, nothing,” she said. “It’s just...I’m really lucky to have you, you know? Really lucky.”

Hiccup raised an eyebrow. “Why, of course you are,” he said wryly. “And very skilled. Only a shieldmaiden like you could possibly handle such...uh...raw—”

“No, really,” Astrid said, forcing herself to look serious. “That right there. You’re always reminding me of how beautiful and amazing I am, but do you realize how great you are?”

“I-I mean, I-II’ve gotten a lot better over the years,” he said quickly, “but from the start, like, you...you’re Astrid Hofferson. You were always just—”

“Do you know how lucky I am?” She tried to somehow increase the intensity of her stare, hoping that was enough for her boyfriend to understand. “Really, really lucky.”

Hiccup nodded dumbly. “Okay, Astrid.”

Not good enough. “Like, you’re the son of the Chief! And, uh...” Astrid went on, finding herself at an unusual loss for words, and that fact only made her more flustered. “You ride a Night Fury?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you’re nice. You’re so kind to me. The gifts: the axe, these furs...” She raised her furs to her nose. Not that bad, but still worth washing.

Hiccup just smiled. “You’re Astrid. You’re like my...shining sun, and...uh...”

Astrid pinched her nose and said, “‘And you’re worth it, milady.’”

Hiccup frowned. “I-I don’t sound like that,” he muttered.

She rolled her eyes. “Like remember how...mean I used to be towards you?”

“This again?” Now it was his turn to rolls his eyes. “The whole village sort of was. Even my dad.” His smile faltered. “And I mean, I kind of deserved it...”

“You didn’t,” Astrid said fiercely, shaking her head.

That made Hiccup smile again. “You sure?”

“Well...” she intoned playfully. “Maybe,” she said, raising herself on to her toes and planting a kiss on his right cheek. “Because....” A kiss to the other cheek. “You were...” A kiss to the nose.

“Hiccup?”

“Smartass,” she whispered. he grabbed the back of his head and gently pushed his lips into her own.

It was a slow kiss, starting out soft, gradually building, but definitely not in a hurry. Astrid closed her eyes and didn’t move—not when she felt the wind blow a random leaf into her hair, not when she heard Stormfly not-quite-stealthily approach—and neither did Hiccup. Perhaps both of them were hoping that if they stood still enough time would simply fre–

The sound of moving wings was her only warning before an unnatural burst of wind sent her and Hiccup stumbling into the water.

Toothless chortled in deep amusement as the riders trudged out of the stream, soaked in water angrily shouting. Stormfly craned her head back to him haughtily—I can flap my wings better than you, she squawked, apparently unaware that this was exactly what Toothless was hoping for. He tried to come up with some reply, but the glare Hiccup shot directly at him—so adorable, so human—made him laugh even harder.

They deserved it. It seemed like every twelve or so suns, either Hiccup or that Astrid girl would have some sudden, deep revelation that demanded the other’s immediate attention, though usually only when they were alone with him and Stormfly. They would chitter on about it for far too long, and suck each other’s faces for far too long, and there’d been a few times recently in which they even rutted. Though Toothless had to admit, he was actually looking forward to seeing what their hatchlings would look like.