Astrid's Point of View
Warmth.
That was the first thing I felt.
Heavy blankets. Soft sheets. Sunlight filtering through the wooden shutters.
For a moment, I let myself melt into it, drifting in a space that didn't hurt. That wasn't filled with screams or chains or blood. Just... warmth.
Then I blinked.
And sat up.
Wait—this wasn't my room.
My heart jumped.
Where was I—?
I yanked the blankets down and immediately froze.
I was naked.
Heat exploded in my face as panic rose in my throat. I scrambled for the sheets again, clutching them to my chest as I looked wildly around the unfamiliar space.
Wooden walls. Carved beams. A fur rug beneath the bed. A sturdy chair near the window, a basin of water beside it. No windows looking out into the village.
Not Berk.
And then it hit me.
The arena. My parents. The blood. The fire.
Luna. Hiccup.
The lap.
I groaned, collapsing back into the mattress with one hand covering my face. "Gods..."
Right.
I'd fainted.
In front of Freya.
Because she congratulated me.
Because she's adorable. And terrifying.
And adorable.
I exhaled slowly, sitting up again. Okay. I wasn't in danger. I wasn't being held prisoner. This was... safe.
That's when I noticed it—laid neatly across the edge of the bed.
Clothing.
Not just any clothing.
A battle-ready black dress of high quality, tailored with reinforced seams and smooth, dark leather woven into the bodice. A subtle dragon-scale pattern traced down the sleeves and sides, tapering to a slit up the leg for mobility. It shimmered faintly in the morning light—functional, sleek... and beautiful.
There wasn't anything else.
No boots. No underclothes. Just the dress.
I sighed. "Well... not like I have many options."
Slipping it on, I was surprised at how perfectly it fit—tight where it needed to be, soft where it didn't. It hugged my waist and hips like it had been measured for me in secret.
It even made my curves look good.
Not that I'd ever say that out loud.
Much.
Satisfied—if a little bewildered—I opened the door and stepped into the hall.
Laughter echoed from deeper inside the cabin.
A child's laughter—bright, high-pitched, pure joy.
Freya.
There was a male laugh too. Deep. Smooth. Familiar.
Hiccup.
And—Luna?
I followed the sound, barefoot on warm wood, my hair a tangled mess from sleep but no one to see it yet.
The door at the far end of the hallway was open.
I stepped into the room and blinked—because the scene before me was so absurd, so normal, I almost forgot who they were.
Hiccup sat at the table shirtless again, a towel draped around his neck, hair damp and sticking up like he'd just come from a swim. Freya was seated on the table, legs swinging as she held a roasted fish in both hands and tried to bite both ends at once.
"Too big," she muttered.
"Should've picked the smaller one," Hiccup replied, grinning.
"I wanted the big one!"
"You wanted the big one because Luna said no dessert until you finished breakfast."
"It's not fair!" Freya pouted, then perked up as Luna leaned in from the side and snatched a strip of meat off the fish with her teeth, chewing it smugly.
"Thieeeef!" Freya screeched.
Luna just shrugged, licking her lips. "It was looking at me funny."
"It's dead!"
"Doesn't mean it's not rude."
Hiccup chuckled as Freya launched a napkin at Luna, who dramatically leaned away like she'd been hit by a spear.
I stood in the doorway, speechless.
This... was breakfast?
This was them?
This was the family I'd thrown everything away to join?
I didn't laugh. Not yet. I didn't speak.
I just stared, the warmth creeping up in my chest in a way that felt... terrifying.
Because for the first time in my life—
I didn't feel like I was standing on the outside of something.
I felt like I'd just stepped into the heart of it.
Hiccup's Point of View
I was mid-laugh, leaning back in my chair as Freya dramatically slammed her napkin onto the table and declared Luna the "Queen of Fish Thieves," when I felt it.
That change in the air.
That silent shift.
My laughter faded before the sound fully left my chest.
I turned—just in time to see her step into the room.
Astrid.
Wrapped in black.
No—forged in it.
The battle-ready dress we had chosen hugged her figure perfectly, shaped like it was made with fire and hunger in mind. The dragon-scale pattern gleamed with subtle detail, the slit at her thigh revealing strength, not softness. Her golden hair was brushed now, flowing freely down her back in waves. Bare feet on wood. Eyes hesitant, but not weak.
She looked...
Incredible.
Luna stopped mid-bite, her mouth still full of fish. I could feel her freeze beside me without even looking.
And in perfect unison—without meaning to—we both looked her up and down.
Slowly.
Appreciating.
Possessing.
"Damn," we both muttered at the exact same time.
Our gazes snapped to each other instantly.
And we smirked. Instinctively.
Because we both smelled it.
Each other.
That rising, unfiltered arousal pulsing through our bond like coals catching fire.
And Astrid?
She smelled delicious.
Embarrassed. Flustered.
But undeniably aroused.
Her heartbeat skipped once—twice.
And she quickly looked away, cheeks burning.
Freya, thankfully, remained blissfully unaware. She was too busy trying to stab a fish eyeball with her fork while Luna subtly guided her hand just out of reach.
And I would very much like to keep it that way. Forever, if possible.
Snapping myself out of it, I cleared my throat and smiled at Astrid.
"Good morning," I said. "Come sit. You're just in time for breakfast."
She hesitated for only a second before nodding and stepping forward, her movements graceful despite her visible fluster. She sat beside Luna, who offered her a teasing wink before returning to helping Freya win her epic fish battle.
I grabbed an empty plate and quickly loaded it with roasted strips of meat, seasoned greens, and the freshly grilled fish Freya had rejected earlier for being too "judgy."
"Here," I said, setting it in front of Astrid. "Eat."
"Thank you," she whispered, still a little shy—but grateful.
Then she took her first bite.
And she moaned.
Soft.
Drawn-out.
Sinful.
Luna's fork paused mid-air. My claws twitched around the edge of the table. Even Freya blinked and looked over briefly before deciding Astrid was probably just "really hungry."
But Astrid? She dove in. Bite after bite. She tore through that fish like it was the first real food she'd ever tasted. Her shoulders relaxed. Her eyes closed once in bliss. She made a sound that sent a very dangerous message down my spine.
I stood up so fast my chair scraped.
"I'll, uh—go cook more."
Luna giggled.
Freya cheered. "More fish!"
And Astrid?
She just kept eating.
As if she'd always been here.
As if she belonged.
——————————
The smell of grilled fish hung thick in the air like a celebration—and I was done.
Five different kinds.
Seasoned. Roasted. Glazed. Smoked. Skewered.
I hadn't cooked like this since... ever.
And there she sat, Astrid Hofferson, Firstborn of Berk, Slayer of Abusive Fathers, looking like a queen of flame with a stomach so full she looked like she might tip over.
Her plate was a battlefield of bones and empty garnishes. Her hands rested over her belly, her lips parted slightly as she breathed deep, sated and blissful.
"That was," she mumbled, "the best food I've ever eaten..."
I smirked. "Careful. Compliments like that'll keep me cooking for the rest of your life."
She blushed, trying and failing to hide the pleased little smile tugging at her lips.
Freya, meanwhile, was licking her fingers clean.
I leaned down beside her and ruffled her hair gently. "Alright, little flame. Go play with the squad for a bit. Enjoy it while you can."
Her ears perked up, but she froze halfway out of her seat. "Wait—why?"
I hesitated for half a second, then said, "We'll be returning to Berk later today."
The joy in the room dimmed like someone had smothered the fire.
Even Luna's playful tapping of her claw stopped midair.
Freya's shoulders drooped. "Oh..."
"But it'll be alright," I said firmly. "We won't have to deal with Berk for much longer. I promise."
She looked up at me, gauging the truth in my eyes.
Then she smiled.
"I believe you, Papa."
She hopped down from her seat and raced out the door, the moment the wood creaked open, an explosion of happy roars and greetings from the Vanguard squad met her—a chorus of dragons welcoming their princess.
And then the door closed behind her.
And the warmth went with it.
Silence settled in.
Astrid glanced between us. She was still full—visibly so—but something in her posture shifted. Straightened.
She saw the look on my face.
That old look.
The one I wore behind fake smiles back in Berk. The one she saw when no one else did. When I was plotting. Calculating.
"Alright," she said, brushing her hair over her shoulder, "what's going to happen next?"
Luna smirked like she'd been waiting for that question.
She leaned over, reached down—
And grabbed Astrid's ass with one hand, fingers shamelessly bold.
Astrid yelped, almost falling off the bench. "Luna—!"
"You still haven't had dessert," Luna whispered with a wicked grin.
Astrid turned red instantly, mouth opening and closing like a fish left on the dock.
I coughed. "That'll wait. Later."
Luna sighed, but relented, though her eyes glowed with wicked promise.
I stood slowly and looked between the two of them—my queen and our new flame.
"What happens today," I said, voice low and serious, "starts in the arena."
Both of them focused instantly.
"This is where everything begins. Where the next phase unfolds."
Astrid's breath caught. "What are we doing?"
Luna's claws drummed once against the table.
My answer?
I gave none.
I just smiled.
Sharp. Cold. Final.
And the fire behind my eyes said enough.