Hiccup sat on a grassy knoll by the sea, kneading blades of grass between his fingers before ruthlessly tearing them apart. It was the late, late hours of the night. Or early, early morning. Hiccup sat there under the fading moon, unable to get it out of his head. His failure earlier that night; he had let Viggo play him like a little wooden doll and let him take the dragon eye, despite his very best efforts. Despite doing things he thought were clever. Apparently, not clever enough.

Astrid sat beside him, wordlessly sharing the silence and drinking in the view. It was a beautiful view; the moon reflected off the dark, rippling sea, transforming the silvery light into a thousand crystal shards adorned with the scattering of little twinkles from the stars above. The wind briefly rustled the grass and the water and Hiccup's hair before it left. It left a soft quiet in its wake. It brushed Astrid's cheek and left a subtle cold on her skin.

Shivering, she rested her head on Hiccup's shoulder, finding a place as if made just for her. She had tried words earlier, but they didn't console him. Apparently he, too, had a hard time accepting failure. He didn't seem to want to acknowledge it, but he was just as much a warrior as her. Just as driven. And focused. And afraid.

Hiccup opened his mouth, about to speak, then closed it again.

Astrid felt his jaw move against her head. Honestly, it felt a little odd, but it was worth it to be this close to him. Then, unwilling to disturb the gentle serenity of the moment, she asked with the barest threads of a whisper: "What is it?"

Hiccup opened and closed his mouth again. Then he sighed. Then he wrung his hands a little, and flung away the grass in his hand with a violent motion. "You know what it is," he replied, just as quietly.

A few heartbeats passed before Astrid responded. "It's going to be alright, Hiccup," she said.

Hiccup turned his head to look at her. "Is that a promise?"

Astrid looked up at him. He looked weary, but his eyes were bright, and a little smile danced on his lips. She offered a small smile of her own. "I promise."

Then, they returned their gazes to the moon. It hung low in the sky, and its cool light grew dimmer as the night slowly stretched and faded away. Ironically, neither of them wanted it to end, despite everything that had happened. It was worth it for them to share moments like these.

And so they let the night roll on, enjoying each other's company. They laughed and spoke of little things, and maybe a few not-so-little things as well. Now, as much as I'd like to, I'm not at liberty to share what they said; their words were for each other and each other alone. Like most young couples, they were tentative, and unsure. They were blind to what sat right in front of them clear as the sky on a rainy day, and it was high time they learned how to see each other. Yes, they stepped careful steps, but their little dance was their own. They deserve the quiet of this night alone. Just this once.