The arena was quiet—too quiet—except for the distant clink of metal and the sharp whistle of the wind scraping along the stone walls. Hiccup crouched low in the sand, his fingers clenching around the worn handle of his shield. His heart wasn’t racing from the dragon this time—it was because you were somewhere nearby, and you hadn’t said a word to him since this morning.

The Deadly Nadder was circling. Its sleek, iridescent scales glimmered like sunlight on ice. A deadly kind of beauty. Just like Astrid. Just like you.

Except… not really.

You were warmth, not ice. But he hadn’t realized that soon enough.

⸻

Earlier that morning, everything had come to a head.

Astrid had pulled Hiccup aside—her words short, sharp, like an axe striking clean wood. “I don’t want you chasing after me, Hiccup,” she’d said, not unkindly, but with a tone that left no room for doubt. “You’re sweet. But not for me. Just… don’t make it weird.”

It had hit him like a hammer to the chest. Not because he thought they were meant to be, but because he’d hoped, and hoping was dangerous.

So he’d gone to the one person who had always been there.

To you.

You were standing by the edge of the village, your arms crossed, looking out over the cliffs. He should have known from the set of your shoulders that this wouldn’t go the way he thought.

“I talked to your sister,” he said quietly.

You didn’t turn around. “Let me guess. She told you you’re not her type.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “She made it… pretty clear.”

You nodded, lips tight. “Told you she’d only hurt your heart.”

“I know.” He hesitated, stepping closer. “You’ve always been honest with me. I guess I just… didn’t listen.”

You turned then, fire in your eyes. “No, you didn’t. Because I told you I liked you, Hiccup. Not just once. I stood by you when everyone else laughed. When even Astrid thought you were a joke.”

“I didn’t ask for that—”

“I gave it anyway!” you snapped, taking a step toward him. “But you were too busy staring at my sister to notice.”

He looked stunned. “You’re right, okay? Maybe I was. But what does it matter now? Nobody likes me.”

Your jaw clenched. “I did.”

There was silence. Heavy and bitter.

“I did,” you said again, softer. “But you didn’t see me.”

And with that, you turned and walked away. You didn’t look back.

⸻

Now, in the arena, it was too late to apologize. Maybe too late for anything.

He crouched behind a scorched boulder, eyes scanning the sands for any sign of movement. And then—there you were. Leaning behind a collapsed training dummy, your dagger in one hand, a coil of blond hair falling across your face.

You didn’t see the Nadder slinking closer.

Hiccup’s breath caught.

He didn’t think. He just moved.

He slid beside you, ducking low. You noticed him immediately and looked away, your jaw tight. Still angry. Of course you were.

“I’m not here to fight,” he whispered, shield up.