#faestrid

[avannak]

I decided to do what real artists call a “Warm up sketch” which I guess is a thing???

But yeah, was going to draw, decided to pre-draw-draw... turned into a fairy Astrid?

Faestrid?

[midoriko-sama]

Hi all! I have had a lot of people send me requests for the Faestrid Wedding night - there are about 10 anon requests for it too XD - and I want to let you all know that I’m working on it, but it’s turned out to be stubborn, long and very hard.

Apparently there is an important plot point buried there somewhere that I’m sorting out and trying to discover, but it’s being elusive. I don’t want to leave people hanging, so I thought I’d tell you all that I’m hammering at it - excuse the pun - but it’s turning out to be a longer process than I anticipated.

On another note, I may eventually interrupt Faestrid Fridays if the story takes actual shape in my mind enough to allow me to turn it into a full length story. I’m ruminating on it; we’ll see.

[midoriko-sama]

Hi awesome girl! About the fairy Astrid AU, does Hiccup ever fight with his father about her, even if she doesn't want it, like you wrote? Do her troll friends ever try to defend her causing mayhem and destruction like good twins?

Oh does he; Angry Hiccup Alert. This drabble happens AFTER the one I’ve just posted, about a month later:

The bustle of the village around them carried on as usual, punctuated by an occasional peal of thunder. Under the forge’s roof, Hiccup couldn’t see the thunder, but he suppose it made little difference. According to Gobber, there was lightning and thunder on his face anyway. Both he and the elder blacksmith were banging on the metal, off-tune ringing one following the other like discordant bells.

‘Wanted to see me, son?’ Hiccup tensed, his jaw locking so hard that his teeth creaked loudly in my own head. He dropped his hammer onto his anvil, catching Gobber look at him gingerly from the corner of his eyes before he turned. His father looked taken aback when their eyes met, his smile faltering.

‘I did,’ he said, barely able to unlock his jaw. His heart beat in his ears when he remembered what he’d seen last evening, the reason he’d been up most of the night staring at the ceiling, caressing his wife’s hair and listening to Toothless’ snoring, thinking and thinking in circles. He hadn’t managed to come up with a delicate way to put this, so he simply let the blood pounding in his ears out his mouth.

‘Where do you get off,’ he said, yelling more than he’d thought possible, throwing his hammer into the water bucket; the water sloshed before the bucket unbalanced and tipped, splashing a stream of blackened water onto the forge’s flagstones. ‘Where do you even get off telling my wife Aunt Rosgertha’s old linens aren’t white enough? Those rags have been in storage for over a decade and they were spotted and yellow before I was born!’

Stoick had gone somber. ‘She told you?’

‘No!’ he yelled, kicking the bucket with his metal foot. Toothless, who’d been chasing the first butterflies outside, came rumbling in at the noise, obviously worried and startled. He looked around, expecting an enemy, or danger, but only saw Stoick, and Hiccup couldn’t stop himself long enough to reassure his friend at this point. He was breathing hard and advancing on his dad, almost wishing he still had his hammer in hand, and Stoick actually backed away. ‘I was flying by on Toothless! I saw it from the air, and then we landed on the house’s roof!’ Stoick opened his mouth. ‘Don’t deny it, I heard every word! “Shame on my family”, you said. “Filthy blood”!’ He turned around, mad beyond anything he’d ever felt, and kicked the anvil with his metal foot, and odd ringing sound reverberating through the area almost as if to fill the room with his anger. ‘Where do you get off, damn you,’ he said again, turning around on his father. ‘When I asked her about it, you know what she said? That it was her duty and she’d do it. She never even wanted to tell me, and you said all those things to her!’

His jaw clamped shut again, because there was a stream of insults just waiting to come out, just yearning to fling themselves at his father. Anger and hurts that were long forgotten had resurfaced last night, seeing his wife treated in a way that put her at the bottom, made her less than normal, made her all that. Being alone in a big, empty house and a big mostly-hostile village, and feeling like he had no one to turn to, at least until he’d started confiding in Gobber. It had sat on his chest like Toothless deciding to be a lap dog, and old feelings he’d thought long-gone and re-bubbled to the surface with a vengeance, anger and resentment almost making him recoil from himself before he realised; he had the right to be angry. He had every right to be, because his dad hadn’t learned anything. His anger just exploded out of him.

‘So let me tell you something, dad,’ he said, moving towards him. ‘I love you, I really do, but … I’m really disappointed in you!’  Hiccup’s shoulders slumped, the ire draining out of him once the truth had come out. ‘Dad …. she’s my wife.’ Stoick’s face twisted, like he’d bitten into a sour orange. ‘Whether you like it or not, she’s my wife. And I … I won’t let you do that to her.’

‘I’d like to see you-’ Stoick started, in a growl.

‘I made a promise!’ Hiccup said, yelling louder than his father. It was the first time he managed to drown the older man’s voice, and the first time that he managed to halt his words and make him listen. Maybe being angry had its benefits. ‘I promised to care for her and protect her! Well, I’m going to do that. Even from you.’

Hiccup was nose to nose with his father at this point, his breath ruffling his father’s beard. ‘Don’t make quarrel with you over this, dad. She’s my wife. I married her. And I’m keeping her.’

‘Son, she’s fae,’ his dad said, words tumbling out of him as if he’d been dying to say them. ‘You can divorce her, send her back to her people. You’ve fullfilled your promise! You can’t really expect me to accept a woman of their sort as a daughter-in-law, you-’

‘I do,’ he hissed back, his jaw locking again as his blood once again began pounding in his ears. Had his dad really not changed at all? Even after the dragons? Even after him? He’d thought his dad had understood that ‘different’ didn’t mean ‘bad’. ‘I expect you to accept Hildr, because she’s my wife. If you can’t, I’ll build my own house.’

Stoick spluttered. Hiccup turned around, picking up the hammer and righting the bucket, beginning to bang at the anvil again, though the nail he’d been making was too cool to work now. His dad stood behind him silently, his breath loud in the silence that lived between one hammer fall and the next.

After a few moments, Hiccup had calmed down enough to say, ‘Hildr doesn’t want me to fight with you. She stops me every time I try to in the house. She says nothing at all about you when you aren’t there. I didn’t even know you were doing this and would have gone on not knowing if I hadn’t happened to fly by, and Toothless wasn’t a silent dragon when he wants to be.’ The dragon crooned, coming closer now that he sensed Hiccup was more sad than incensed. ‘Don’t do it anymore, dad. We’ve already had this argument once. I … I won’t do it a third time.’

‘You can’t possibly…’ Stoick said. He sounded almost choked with emotion. ‘Our bloodline … grandchildren…’

‘Will also be Hildr’s children, if I’m lucky enough.’

His father was utterly silent for a few more moments before a deep sigh huffed out, and he left the forge without another word. Hiccup slumped forward, dejected and depressed that his father had not even denied his accusation. How much worse was it? What had his dad done to Hildr before now that Hiccup had not even been aware of?

‘Ye did the right thing, lad,’ Gobber said from the other side of the room. ‘Yer dad’s being a yak brained oaf.’

‘Yeah?’ Hiccup sighed. ‘Why does it feel so awful?’

‘Right things are hardly ever pleasant,’ Gobber replied with a shrug before going back to work.

[midoriko-sama]

Those headcanons are GOLD! Or should I say silver like those dwarf's hands? I laughed way too hard at the first one! And now I am curious about how exactly Stoick goes about keeping his son from getting lucky with his new wife ;)

Glad you liked them! And yes, yes he does. Have a short drabble:

‘Your hair is really pretty,’ he’d said that morning. Astrid had stopped walking in surprise, Ruffnut bumping into her and spilling the beans they’d collected from the garden onto the path.

He’d gone red, stooped down to help them pick up their beans, bumped heads with the girl trolls and spilt them all again. Astrid had laughed, Ruffnut had sniggered and Hiccup had pouted at them both.

‘I’m outnumbered two-to-one,’ he’s said, mock seriously as he took one of the baskets, leaving Astrid’s hands free to grab his arm. He looked like he didn’t mind. Ruffnut, walking on his otherside made a gagging motion behind his back and Astrid ignored her.

‘You are,’ she’d gone on, and then he’d left her at the door.

‘Right. I need to go. Over there. Work, work things. With things and metal see you at home,’ he’d said hurriedly, that always-lovely colour climbing his neck. He waved and marched off, moving back to the forge, taking Ruffnut with him. The girl-troll would probably go back home with a few iron burns, but Ruff seemed to like the danger of it as much as the blue scars left behind on her grey skin. Astrid was sitting on their bed though, now, idly remembering the afternoon as she brushed her hair furiously. The dragons had been boisterous, and the flight Stormfly had taken her on had been the highlight of her day; unfortunately it had also tangled her hair hopelessly, and upon remembering his off-hand comment, Astrid had frantically begun to try to brush it out before he came. Stoick was in his room and had not emerged since he’d arrived, so once her chores had been done, she had been granted a few minutes to herself.

‘Hey dad, Hildr!’ came Hiccup’s voice, accompanied by Toothless’ warbling and the noises of the door hinges and windy din outside. ‘Oof, what a howler today. Hildr, are you in?’

‘Yes!’ she called back, a little dismayed she hadn’t managed to tame her hair before he came home. His step on the stair came before she saw him, and then his tired eyes made her stand and give him a hug as soon as he was in the room.

‘You’re freezing,’ she whispered, rubbing his arms. ‘Come to the fire?’ She begun leading him downstairs towards the blaze.

‘I’ll be fine,’ he said, resisting for a moment as he tugged her back into an embrace. ‘What were you doing, I don’t want to disturb you.’

‘Brushing my hair,’ she replied, feeling slightly odd, as if she were awaiting an effect to her words. One did arrive; he blushed, and looked down the undone, knotty length. ‘It’s fraying,’ she said quickly, as if to forestall comment. She knew that up close, he really couldn’t call her hair pretty anymore, not when it looked like a rat’s nest, and she didn’t want him to take it back. She went back to the bed, sitting and resuming her brushing, the stubborn knots making her feel nervous as they seemed to multiply in front of him. 

‘No wonder it’s brittle,’ Hiccup said with a slight laugh. ‘You’re murdering those knots. Here, let m- … um, I mean…’

He paused with his hand outstretched, already sitting behind her on the bed, and when she turned to look at him in surprise once again found that nice colour rising up his neck. Before he could change his mind, or wriggle out of it, she put the comb in his hand and turned to face the night fury, curled on his stone. The dragon seemed to wink at her before it stretched, heading back down the stairs and lying next to the fire.

It was completely different to have someone else brush your hair, Astrid found out. She usually barely felt the comb’s teeth, but now that he was holding it her scalp was hyper-aware of every single strand of ivory running gently against her head. He passed it down mid-way through before it snagged, and he apologised when he gasped.

‘Let me try like this…’ he muttered, and divided her hair. ‘I saw one of he matrons do it…’ Gently, he tugged at a knot with the comb, but oddly it did not tug at the roots in her head at all, and she couldn’t turn enough without snatching the hair out of his hands to see how he was doing it.

Strand by strand, area by area, her hair began to come loose one piece at a time. Soon, Hiccup was running the comb from the top of her head to the tips, dragging it slowly but firmly through all her hair and sending goosebumps chasing each other down her arm and back. A fire was lit in her body as he seemed to move closer with each stroke, his breath on her crown and nape as he brushed constantly and languorously.  She wanted to lean back into him, and she wanted him to kiss her and touch her, the way that hadn’t been able to in a month. All her skin was alight, crackling if his fingers touched it, and then waiting almost painfully, as if each strand of hair on her body was straining towards him, just waiting for his own skin to stroke past.

He paused, then without hesitation, without even asking - which was so pleasantly peculiar - he split her hair into three parts, braiding it loosely. Then he leaned forward and kissed her nape very lightly. Barely a brush, barely there, it was enough to make her gasp, and she did lean into him. Almost as if they were of one mind, she moved her chin up and he curled into her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her, his fingers gently caressing her belly as his tongue invaded her mouth.

She was just turning to face him, eager to nudge him slowly down to the bed, when loud, thunderous paces slammed down on the steps leading up to their room. They split apart at once, startled, and Stoick entered their room without even knocking.

‘Dad, what the-’

‘Son, I need you to come downstairs. There’s a map I need you to see,’ he said, deliberately ignoring Astrid’s presence in the room. She felt both mortified and furious, her blood still pumping and the hot ghost of his soft touch on her belly still there like a brand.

‘Can’t it wait?’ he asked, and the frustration in his tone at least made her feel vindicated.

‘No, I need to sort this map out before tomorrow’s morning meeting. Come down.’ Without another word, he waved his hand towards the door and Hiccup huffed, red in the face, opening and closing his mouth before he sighed, a long hiss through puffed cheeks. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, a poor replacement for the much fierier kisses they’d just interrupted, and slid off the bed, going down the stairs with his particular clunk-thud that had come to mean familiar comfort to her.

Just before he turned and left the room, Stoick shot her a triumphant look that made her want to reach out and strangle him. He’d done this on purpose. The door to their room closed behind the large chief and Astrid was left there, breath short with anger this time, unsure whether to scream into her pillow or descend the stairs and commit murder with a rusty soup ladle as her body turned into a cold throbbing sore in its entirety, from the top of her over-stimulated skull to her tingling, itching toes.

=0=

[midoriko-sama]

Hi! How are you today? I hope well! I wanted to ask if you could write something about Astrid and Hiccup bonding over her mistreatments at home in the Fairy Astrid saga.

‘Oh no, again?’

Astrid looked up, relief flooding her very tired body as she heard her husband’s voice. It had been the end of a very long day, tagged onto a rather brackish week. Tomorrow was Laugardagur - which meant rest for everyone except her. She’d be up with the light, gathering the linens to take them to wash. But she would also be with her husband, and that made it all better.

Right now, though, she had to clean up this mess.

‘The soup was bad,’ she said. In truth, it had been abysmal. She didn’t think leeks and and barley would ever taste so horrible, but they had. She’d put them in the water as Hiccup had said, put the white powder salt, put a knob of butter and just left them. They’d been odd and crunchy when she remembered them after dusting the entire house, but she’d thought that was alright, and just added more water and left them some more. It had all tasted like sucking on the black ends of Hiccup’s pencils in the end. Stoick had taken one spoonful and turned eyes full of gleeful malice on her, kicking the pot over and ruining her entire day’s work.

So she’d gathered up all the thresh again, and was in the process of scrubbing the floor flagstones - as she had all this morning, her bruised and abused hands and knees protesting - when Hiccup walked in.

Astrid sat back, smiling at him. He dropped Toothless’ saddle on the peg beside the door and looked down at the scene. The pot had been righted and rehung on its tripod, and the thresh had already been thrown out.

‘You did that this morning,’ he said sadly, and then he fell to her knees beside her, taking another floor brush.

‘No!’ Astrid protested. ‘You’re just back from a day at the forge and training the others. It’s unfair; this is my duty!’

He smiled at her, leaning forward. Her eyes closed of their own accord, heart beating wildly even before his soft lips touched hers. The contact lasted mere seconds, but it was enough to silence her, and make her wish it never stopped. He was always so warm, and kind…

‘I’ve said it a thousand times and one,’ he said with a chuckle, ‘I’ve done this all my life. If nothing else it’s an upgrade to have company.’

She really wanted to lean forward and kiss him as he’d kissed her. She almost did, but then he started scrubbing beside her, so she fell in rhythm with him, specially when he started whistling off-key, and she burst out laughing.

They were done, and spreading the new thresh when his father showed up again.

‘Hello dad,’ he said coldly, turning his back on him. Astrid bit her lip, grabbing his arm and shook her head. She did not want him fighting with his father on her account. Not when she had learned from the village how long it took him to gain his father’s favour, and how hard he’d fought for it.

‘We were almost done,’ Hiccup went on, smiling at her. ‘What’s there for dinner at the hall?’

‘Mutton, what else,’ Stoick snorted, hanging his helmet. ‘I’m turning in, son.’ He gave them a beady eye. ‘Your bedroom is on top of mine. Have mercy on your old man.’

Astrid could have strangled him. She didn’t know what he was playing at, but almost every day, he made sure to give warnings like that, as if he was trying to deter them from being husband and wife.

Well no, who was she kidding, that was exactly what he was doing and she knew it. But why? Did he think he could send her away if they did not be together for some time? Was there a human law? Did he think Hiccup would grow bored of her? Would he?

He wouldn’t grow bored, right? Jumpy, maybe. She knew she was jumpy. She would very much like to…

‘We should go to the hall,’ she said suddenly. ‘I bet you’re hungry.’

‘I’ll teach you how to make the soup properly tomorrow,’ he promised her, taking her hand. There were new callouses on hers, no longer only born of axes and weapons. Now there were marks left by the broom, the dustpan, the thresh paddle. There were some left by the kitchen knife too, but those were less callouses and more silly little cuts. As always, Hiccup took her hands to see the damage, and kissed the small abrasions. She was even more determined to get him out when his warm lips touched her palm.

‘Let’s go,’ she said in a whisper, then sidled up to him. ‘Can we stop at the barn first?’

‘We have supplies,’ he said as he closed the door behind them.

‘Not for supplies,’ she returned, looking at him meaningfully.

‘Then why… oh!’ he said, and she almost laughed when he squeaked and went red in the moonlight. Gathering her courage, her heart beating like a bird, she rose to her toes and kissed his cheek.

‘Barn?’ she asked again, trying to look coy and alluring. Her sisters had tried to teach her how. She wasn’t sure she’d learned. She just hoped she’d learned enough.

‘Barn…’ he confirmed, voice unsteady, following her as she pulled. She’d learned enough.

[midoriko-sama]

Faestrid Updates

Hey all! I’m receiving all of your requests, and you are not being ignored! I’m working on the Post-wedding bit right now, and also on two follow ups to the prompt AUs (one of them decided to be long, ftw - already 4 parts!). Things will begin to come online as soon as they are ready!

Thank you all for your interest <3

[midoriko-sama]

Hi folks! I'm taking a raincheck on feastrid Friday this week to work on two continuations to the prompt AU fics (teen angst and the runaway fic), and ALSO on faestrid wedding night. Look for them next week! Meanwhile, ask away! All faestrid prompts and requests will be answered throughout the following week, not just Friday. So call it faestrid week next week! Fire away and thank you for your support!

[midoriko-sama]

Faestrid Wedding

Happy Birthday Hiccup Haddock! I couldn’t think of a better thing to post for his birthday than his wedding day in Faestrid, which happens when he’s 16, exactly on Feb 29th.

Thanks to @dragonescence for the ultra quick and efficient beta job (and go read her Birthday Fic, Beholding Beauty, that’s good smut!). And @astrxd - it DID grow longer than two lines. But I cheated, and listened to THIS while writing.

The sky dawned cold and steel grey on his birthday. It was the last day of February - the last last day that happened only once every four years. February 29th that year was not a rainy day, and there had not been rain or snow in the previous days, so no mud littered the ground. The dawn sky looked severe though, almost punishing and Hiccup’s breath crystallised in front of him even before he went onto Toothless for an early morning flight. He needed it more than ever today; not only did it wipe away any lethargy left after an unsettled and bumpy sleep, but it calmed him as it always did. His heart was beating so fast it hurt, and he felt that he was going to be ill all over his expensive robes.

It was his wedding day today. His wedding day.

Warring thoughts battled over what would freak him out most in his head. He thought of a thousand scenarios as the sun barely peaked above the clouds, Berk further down still in darkness as Hiccup’s fingers skimmed the sun-kissed, moist fluff. He thought of what would happen if she didn’t come - he’d held up his part of the deal, but he didn’t know if she had; she’d promised not to kiss anyone either. Then again, the trolls had said that they’d both die if they broke that oath.

Hiccup banished that thought, gnawing at his lip and rhythmically squeezing the handlebars on his saddle. His father no doubt would be happy if she didn’t show up. The feast planned for the wedding would happen anyway, as a celebration for his son’s release from …. whatever his father wanted to call his promise to Hildr today. Curse, pall of bad luck, scourge on their bloodline… he’d heard them all. Hiccup wasn’t sure what to think of it himself.

If she did show up, if she was there … well. Well then, he’d be married. He’d have a wife, and then he’d take her home and … well. That was a terrifying prospect unto itself. All night, he’d tossed and turned in his bed, sweating and shivering, unable to decide which prospect was worse. His dad would be happy, sure, if she wasn’t there. But then the rumours that Hiccup was mad, that he’d made it up (conveniently started by his cousin), would take on a lot more credit. Maybe having an elf wife, one of the very Fae that the village despised, was preferable to being thought a mad fool. How could be chief as his father wanted, when everyone thought he was delusional? What would they blame his ability with dragons on then, if not the touch of Fae he had in his blood because of his pact with Hildr?

So he needed this flight more than ever this morning, and began to entertain himself by musing about the fact that the sunlight reached him and Toothless, high up, and the mountain tops beside them, but not the ground below. He tried to think of the mechanics of it, tried to understand how it was possible. Thought that perhaps, he’d put stakes in the ground and measure their angle.

Nothing worked to distract him, though. Every few minutes, despite the biting cold and the entertaining thoughts, he thought of what would happen, and the panic would set in again. Last night, his father almost suggested, outright, that he should take Toothless and go. Fly off, and Berk would take care of any Fae that appeared on it’s land. Hiccup wasn’t sure that it was the fear of dying that kept him from going - the panic had been mounting to a head, just hours before he’d gone to bed. He wasn’t sure the trolls had been saying the truth, as he’d learned over their long acquaintance that they liked to lie almost as much as they liked to cause trouble. However, they were also uncannily shrewd, and unnervingly honest at times, especially when they knew what they said would cause distress or worry, which they found entertaining. Hiccup had the sinking feeling that this was one of the those times

They landed, discretely, behind the Haddock Hall. He’d been subjected to the ritual bath the previous day, as they hadn’t know what time the bride would ‘arrive’; now he was free to bathe on his own. Toothless helped him warm the water, firing into it until it was steaming, and Hiccup enjoyed a good hot soak after the freezing temperatures of the morning flight. He scrubbed vigorously at himself, trying to make sure he was utterly clean - he didn’t know what the elfs were used to, but Ruff and Tuff always mentioned beautiful things like marble gardens and stone baths. No doubt, his wife would expect a clean husband, and he was not going to disappoint someone else, not when they were meeting for the first time. The chance at a fresh start; this was the only good thing about this wedding. All his life. Hiccup had disappointed people - his dad, his village, Gobber - and apart from Toothless, hardly anyone had believed in him for the longest time. This new person entering his life, even if he’d met her once, would be different. He wouldn’t disappoint her; he wouldn’t. He’d make a real effort to make sure that she was happy.

He put his robes back on, making sure they were smooth and good looking. He clasped the cloak onto his shoulders, the weight a comfort and a burden at once. The wedding wasn’t the only event today; he was 16. He’d be given the belt-buckle as official heir to Berk’s chiefdom, and he’d be instated officially as the next chief, an adult beside his father. He’d have a month with his wife before he went back into the village to new tasks and new training. His birthday was at the very edge of Winter, and then after the honeymoon, it would be the beginning of spring, and the beginning of the hardest part of the year.

Hiccup swallowed hard. Gods, he wasn’t afraid of heights, not since Toothless. But this drop into the unknown he felt he was about to make did scare him, quite a bit.

Still, it was now or never. Hiccup wasn’t the sort to retreat, especially when there was nowhere to go. He’d always stood tall and faced his fate, most especially if there was no escape. He never gave his enemies the satisfaction of seeing him crawl, always stood standing to meet them, human or dragon. This was no different, he told himself. This was just another battle. Toothless would be beside him, his dad would have his back. The entire village would support him. Hiccup took a long, steadying breath, and though it came out shaky he felt better for it.

‘Son,’ his father’s voice filtered from the ground floor of the house. ‘It’s time.’

Hiccup couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Why did his dad have to be so dramatic? They weren’t going to battle, and they weren’t going to Hiccup’s execution. Granted, Hiccup could barely feel more worried or ill than he was feeling at this moment, so there was hardly any chance he’d feel differently if this was his execution. But his dad didn’t have to make it out like it was. There was still a chance that this could be a happy day.

Hiccup clung to that, he straightening his back and shoulders, took another deep breath and looked at Toothless.

‘What do you think, bud. Do I look impressive?’ he asked. His voice, at least, didn’t shake. Toothless gave him a gummy smile of encouragement, and that was enough for Hiccup. ‘Alright, let’s go meet Hildr then.’

Puffing his cheeks and pressing his lips together, Hiccup went down to his father, and followed him out of the hut, where they would lead the wedding procession into the woods. The Goethi had said that Hildr would appear where they made their pact; Hiccup hoped she was right. There were far too many things that could go wrong today, and being late to collect his wife was not one Hiccup wanted to risk, so the sun was barely half off the horizon as they began making their way into the glen.

They were heading the train of villagers, his cousin Snotlout reluctantly holding the banner of the Haddock clan up while one of his own relatives bore the Jorgensen clan banner. If nothing happened today, Hiccup at least had the satisfaction of seeing Snotlout subservient to him for one day; he’d been assigned as Hiccup’s vassal, something that would have been a great honour to anyone but the proud, stubborn braggart of a boy. Snotlout, being still underage himself, as his birthday was in a few months time, would not even have been allowed to join the front of the wedding party otherwise, and would have had to stay behind the front group, with Fishlegs and the Hofferson boys. They themselves had been ordered to come as a show of power; together with Hiccup and Snotlout, Fishlegs and the Hoffersons had defeated the Red Death, and they were all mounted on their dragons, whose saddles and armour was shining with polish and new steel.

His father had insisted on putting iron fitting in his own clothing, and had tried to make sure Hiccup had some in his own. Seeing as he didn’t want to burn his new bride’s skin off, Hiccup had thrown a fit and threatened to go naked unless every piece of iron had been removed from his clothing and all the other places the bridal party would be. Stoick, in the end, had acquiesced it - probably more due to Toothless’ glare than Hiccup’s. The last time the night fury had been angry, it had blasted down a part of the the mountain after Alvin had tried to lure the dragon with his stolen rider. Alvin hadn’t tried that one again.

Now he felt partially naked, though. He’d worn iron ornaments almost all of his life - he remembered having some in the cradle and in his first bed. Today would be the first time in his remembered life that he’d be out and about without that added protection, and he couldn’t help but miss it. If only…

Idle thought stopped as they arrived, the sunbeams barely glancing the tree tops and timidly tiptoeing into the glen. The bushes beside which he’d met Hildr had been trimmed, and the elfring that lay beyond was now clearly visible. Hiccup didn’t know how his father had resisted the temptation to destroy the ring while he, or whomever he’d ordered, cut the bushes down to size and created a path between them, but beyond looking decent, the meeting spot was intact.

There was nobody, when they arrived. Instantly, Hiccup felt ten times more ill, ten times more uncertain and stupid. What if she didn’t come? What if he’d done something to break the bond and he’d killed her inadvertently; that girl, Heather, had tried to kiss him once when he’d helped her. What if that was enough, even if he’d managed to prevent her? What if a hoard of angry Fae appeared, intent on seeking revenge for the girl he’d trapped (like he wanted to!).

What if he’d imagined her? What if he’d cut his finger on a poisonous plant and imagined it all? If he’d lain there hallucinating while Fishlegs and the other boys looked for him, missing his bushes by error. But no, how many times had he met Ruff and Tuff since then? He hadn’t even been the only one to see them - his father had met those trolls, or rather, chased them off the island till they fled back to wherever they lived. How many times had he spoken to them? It had to be real.

Even as he stared blankly, the rest of the village reaching the glenn as they waited, something shimmered. At first Hiccup thought it was a bird whizzing past, catching newborn sunlight on its shiny feathers. But then it happened again, opalescent and fluttering. It was coming from the elfring, and before he could open his mouth, those two very same trolls stepped out of thin air, another flicker telling him that whatever it was that connected their world to that of the Fae, it was open now.

There was a collective gasp, then a hush. The dragons around them went tense and nervous, nostrils wide and throats vibrating in a subsonic growl of unease. Putting a palm on Toothless’ head hardly served to calm his friend, as he was quite as nervous himself, but somehow the night fury seemed to feel the necessity for peace. He sat up instead of crouching low to the ground with an arched back. His eyes were still split-pupilled and still agitated, but he sat still, almost like the first time he’d met Hiccup, twitching slightly. And then the dragon spread his wings, one around Stoick, one around Hiccup.

The trolls were waving at him, and Hiccup waved back, shivers running up and down his spine now. As the nerves of her not appearing subsided, they were replaced by the ones related to her coming. He was going to be married; a husband. This was one birthday he wasn’t quite going to forget quickly. His breathing began coming in quicker, so he tried to control it, and Toothless’ wing rested against his shoulder, nearly like a hand giving comfort. Hiccup took it gladly, and soon his dad’s hand also rested on the small of his back. Hiccup swallowed thickly, but steadied himself. If he was this nervous, this terrified, what would Hildr be? She’d come to live with them, among strangers away from home, among people who wouldn’t even be her kind. This was his fresh start, he reminded himself. He was going to take care of her; he’d be a damn good husband, or die trying.

Well, preferably not die, but ….

His mind went blank again. The troll twins, he realised belatedly, had been washed and scrubbed (he almost smiled - they had probably hated that), and were dressed in matching armour and carried spears. Tuffnut was twitching and tunnelling a finger into his nostril, but he was smiling widely at him too. Hiccup, watching them, twitched himself and felt both energised and terrified. Then the glen shimmered again, the area within the elfring going hazy, like mist had suddenly rolled down into it out of nowhere. Automatically, he stood straighter, the tension making his stance stiff and rim-rod even if he’d not wanted it to be. His father’s hand nearly gripped his waist, and sparing him a glance, Hiccup was alarmed to see the fierce look in his eyes.

‘Don’t attack them,’ he whispered from the corner of his mouth. His dad’s bushy brows only went down further, furrow deepening on his forehead. ‘You promised!’ Hiccup hissed urgently.

Stoick nodded, but he looked almost like he’d swallowed an orange, his face scrunched up at the unpleasant bitter taste.

No sooner had Stoick renewed his promise, almost as if they were waiting for just that, the cloudy, foggy interior of the elfring cleared. Suddenly, the forest beyond the glen disappeared, as if the space within the elfring stretched on for miles and miles, and within stood a large party of the tallest, most beautiful people Hiccup had ever seen. They were garbed in shining clothes, branch-like crowns on their heads, sheets of golden hair like spun gold shimmering even more than their garments. Hiccup was hard-pressed to keep his mouth from gaping, and he saw, from the corner of his eyes, Snotlout doing it without reserve.

Then his heart leapt. In the middle, surrounded by a man in a crown and a woman dressed in what looked like moonbeams made cloth, was another girl dressed in cloth contrasting with the woman next to her. It was a deep, deep blue, so dark that it was black where it folded around her feet, but shimmered like a summer night sky wherever the sunlight caught it. Elaborate silver brocade cris-crossed it, forming a pattern that took him a moment to realise represented Yggdrasil in its many levels, miniature figures of fawn and deer resting on some levels, birds and butterflies fluttering across all the levels so realistically they could have taken flight, and a serpent circling the bottom hem of the dress, its head eating its tail at her feet. Her face was covered in a veil which seemed of the same material as the other’s dress, her shoulders were bare, and she had no sleeves, but her hair was undone around her, reaching her seat and covered by her veil in the back. She was holding flowers in her hands, blue and white, with very tiny red and silver one he had never seen dotting the bouquet.

Her hands were shaking, the flowers shivering prominently even through the slight distortion of the barrier between the world.

‘Hear hear!’ Ruffnut said suddenly, banging her staff. Tuffnut jumped, the finger in his nostril going higher and making him howl.

‘I was supposed to say that!’ he hissed. Ruffnut grinned at him.

‘You were busy,’ she hissed back. Hiccup looked at them blankly wondering if they realised that everyone could hear them. ‘Here comes the bride! Who is to claim her!’ she went on, addressing the clearing.

It took him a moment to realise he was supposed to say something.

‘I d-’ he began, but before he could continue, his father’s hand had done what it had threatened to do all morning, clamping down on his waist painfully. Toothless, sensing his distress, began growling.

‘Hang on, what is this!’ Stoick bellowed (right into Hiccup’s ear, which began to ring promptly in protest). ‘Why is she covered!’

‘Dad!’ Hiccup hissed urgently, a new wave of panic sweeping through him. As if being married wasn’t stressful enough; as if being married to someone strange and otherworldly wasn’t hard enough. He didn’t need his dad losing it, too!

‘I’ll bet she’s really ugly,’ Snotlout hissed, beside him, grinning now rather like a satisfied dragon. ‘I bet she’s the ugliest of the lot, and they’re foisting her on you. I’ll bet she’s a troll.’

‘How do we know this is the woman my son was promised to?’ his father bellowed on. ‘We know your ways, Fae,’ he spat, saying the word like the worse insult. ‘We know your tricky ways, your deceit and lies. I will not let you trick my son!’

There was a silence. Hiccup felt the hostility of all of Berk’s citizens, mirroring their chief’s will and opinion. The crowd beyond the barrier rippled, this time not because of the barrier between the worlds, but a ripple of unease and outrage among the crowd on the other end. The girl with the veil, Hildr, Hiccup supposed, had gone stiff and her flowers shook even harder. With a jolt to his stomach, as if someone had hooked a rope to it and then tugged, Hiccup realised that Snotlout was close enough for her to have heard him, if words could travel through the veil. Fact which his father had just confirmed.

He wasn’t sure whether it was courage or something else that made him step forward. His father hissed his name, grabbing for his shoulder, but one look at Toothless had the dragon biting into his father’s cloak and tugging him back. Hiccup held his palm out for her to take. His thumb stuck out stiffly in his nerves, but that made the scar prominent, and a hush fell over both parties in the glen. Slowly, Hildr let go of her bouquet, raising her opposite hand out. Gently, her fingers passed through the thin barrier, making it shimmer golden as it passed. When her hand was an inch from his, she hesitated, and then slowly, gently ran her fingertips across his palm before threading their hands together. Finally, deliberately, she held out her thumb, equal and opposite to his, her own scar clearly visible, and pressed the two lines together.

A jolt of pain, followed but a buzzing feeling took over his hand and ran up his arm like touching an electric eel. His insides felt warm and calmer, his shoulders relaxing the pent-up tension. He could see Hildr’s shoulders sagging too, and her veil fluttered as if she were sighing out, her chest mirroring the action. Through the barrier, and through the veil, he could only just make out the outline of her eyes. Dying to see more of her face, now utterly certain it was her, he tugged her hand gently, but she resisted, shaking her head at him.

‘The bride cannot enter Midgard till you’ve married her,’ Ruffnut drawled beside him. Tuffnut seemed to have fallen into a doze. ‘We don’t know what will happen, so we’re being careful.’ Then, with a scornful look Stoick’s way, she added, ‘we don’t know what will happen to both of you, that is.’

‘Then marry us,’ Hiccup answered decidedly, looking back at the Goethi, who nodded and tottered forward, eyes brimming with tears as she looked towards the congregation beyond the elfring. Their resident mystic and healer had been the one most excited to meet people from beyond Midgard. ‘Hildr…’ he murmured. Her head turned up towards him. His insides jolted in a way that had nothing to do with nerves or fear. He couldn’t see her face, could barely make out the outline of her face, but the fact that she was looking at him at all made his knees weak.

His father swore colourfully. Hiccup turned to glare at him. ‘It’s her, dad,’ he replied, before turning his gaze back to her. His eyes searched the veil incessantly. Her hand around his tightened and he looked at her harder for a moment before hesitantly squeezing back. He thought he saw her smiling; he hoped it wasn’t a grimace from him pressing too hard

The Goethi began chanting, waving her staff - the only time she spoke anymore. The tall man behind Hildr also opened his mouth and began singing, a sound so sweet Hiccup was enchanted by it. The woman beside her joined in, and soon the entire congregation beyond the barrier were stringing a tune to Goethi’s words in their own language. Hildr’s hand began trembling in his again, and he gave it another squeeze, taking it in both of his. Tentatively she pressed back, and Hiccup realised she had callouses much like most of the rest of Berk’s warriors - including himself. He blinked at her, the soft music around them rising and rolling like a night bird’s song, swelling mellowly before it fell back again like an open linen sheet in a summer breeze.

Goethi gestured, her chanting stopping even if the elfs’ did not. Someone brought a goat, and Hiccup’s eyes suddenly widened.

‘I consecrate it to Thor,’ he said quickly, stopping her from slitting its throat. Goethi nodded, waving the animal away again, before bringing out the mead and dipping the rings in them. They were wiped in an embroidered cloth Brunhilda Hofferson had made for the occasion, and then the Goethi place them on a silver tray, holding them out to him.

Hiccup’s hands shook badly, he realised, as he put the ring on her, reciting his vows almost mindlessly. Love her, care for her, protect her. Be faithful to her and love and care for their children. He wondered if she could hear him beyond the barrier, scolded himself for thinking stupid thoughts when obviously he could hear the elf song and they could hear the Goethi. His only consolation was that, once again, Hildr’s hand shook too.

She slipped the ring onto his finger, and he saw the shadow of her mouth open as she began to recite her own vows, mirroring his own. He tilted his head unconsciously towards her, afraid to miss her voice, but it rang loud, clear, in norse. She promised to love him and protect him, be faithful to him and honour him. To love and protect any children that he gave her. Her hand lingered on his ring for a moment longer than necessary, and Hiccup gently surrendered his hand to her. She faltered in her vows, looking up at him sharply, and he smiled at her hesitantly. She was as scared as he was, as nervous and frightened. Perhaps more; he had heard enough around the village when he was tiny and invisible, how it was worse for women. Perhaps, it was the same for elf women too.

So he let her take his hand, pulling his scarred one through the barrier as he had pulled hers, ignoring his dad’s squawk of protest and the elfish singing that rose to a high note and held. One woman, the one beside her began singing on her own and the Vikings fell completely silent, and haunting tune taking over the entire clearing. Hildr turned his hand around in both of hers, running her finger pads across his own callouses, before turning to the singing woman, who nodded. She turned towards the crowned man, who also nodded. Hildr slowly laced her fingers with his, giving his hand a slight nudge.

Another jolt ran up Hiccup’s spine as he realised what she meant. Slowly, so slowly, as if they were moving through viscous liquid, Hiccup pulled his hand back. Again, her scarred hand came through the barrier, followed by her wrist, her forearm, elbow. Every part of her he pulled through made his heart beat in a crescendo, the woman’s singing rising to higher notes almost as if to mirror his pounding blood.

Hildr stepped through, a delicate white slipper visible for a split second before the folds of her dress engulfed it. The sunlight in the glen sparkled on the dress even more brightly without the barrier to disturb it, and Hiccup knew he was gaping now, but her veil stopped showing even a hint of her face, catching the light and looking like moonbeams on water. The singing around them and the woman before him where all he saw and heard.

So much so that he almost missed the Goethi’s croaked order.

‘Kiss the bride,’ she said solemnly.

Hiccup swallowed hard. He dropped Hildr’s hand almost reluctantly, and she did not return it to her bouquet of flowers, resting it on his shoulder instead. Her ring shone nearly as brightly as her clothes and hair in the corner of his eyes, the sun out and shining only for them.

His fingers found the edge of the veil. It felt like spun wind, unsubstantial and ephemeral. His throat hammered, too small and tight to contain the heart that had suddenly lodged there as the veil rose. Almost as slowly as he’d pulled her through the barrier between the worlds, the material came away from her face. A neck, long and white, with a single blue jewel at her throat. More and more blonde ringlet, cascading everywhere, the same colour and consistency of the woman who stood still singing behind the barrier, the crowned man beside her, and the host of elfish figures that crowded behind them, tall and numerous.

A chin, strong and stubborn. A wide face, cheeks alight with colour. Tiny ears, rounded and flushed. The prettiest nose he’d ever seen. Two eyelids, black lashes fanning her cheeks, with thin eyebrows on top only slightly darker than her hair.

Her eyes opened as he threw the veil over her head. He heard Snotlout gasp behind him, and he wasn’t the only one. Hildr was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but quite beyond that, quite beyond the host of even more beautiful elfin Folk standing a few steps away, Hiccup recognised her eyes. Blue like a winter sky in the morning, blue like the ice floating on the colder, northernmost seas. Ice that was warm, a winter sky that shone with a bright sun, like today’s did.

‘May I?’ he murmured, drawing closer. A smile broke on her face then, and it was a new type of sun he hadn’t seen yet. Flying for the first time; waking from a long sleep to find his village embracing his philosophy. Even quite without counting his foot, Hiccup had always thought his life complete. Now, he wasn’t quite sure it had been. Hildr moved her hand down his arm, taking his hand in hers. She squeezed his palm the thousandth time that day, and their rings gleamed together as she held them to her own shoulder, nodding, raising her chin slightly.

Hiccup dipped down, stopped, moved more slowly; hesitated. He looked into her eyes, then closed his own and closed the last inch of distance. Her lips were warm, answering his kiss as tentatively but as eagerly as his.

Cheers and clapping rang around the glen from Berk’s villagers, accompanied by pan pipe music and flutes, while clapping and singing continued from the elfs beyond the barrier as the tall, statuesque figures began to cross the border into Midgard.

Hiccup heard none of it over his galloping heart. For the first time in his life, Hiccup Haddock was kissing a woman. And he was happy.