Disclaimer: I don't own How to Train Your Dragon. Rights remain with Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks.

Acknowledgement: This is inspired by RedLegoManiac's 'Homeless Haddock'. If you haven't read it, I recommend it!

A/N: Christmas (or Snoggletog) is a difficult time of year for some people and while it is a time to celebrate and be with family, it's very hard on those with no family, few resources, no home or who associate the time of year with loss. Sometimes, comfort can come from unexpected sources. Merry Christmas!

One.

He thought he was immune to the icy chill, had become used to the bitter freezing weather that constituted the northern town of Berk's normal winter weather but as he sat in his normal place, huddled as much as he could, he realised he was probably going to freeze to death if he stayed. The cold had spread into his very bones and his body was growing heavy, his head muzzy. Basic training had taught him the symptoms of hypothermia and he knew that if he did nothing he would die.

And perhaps it would be for the best.

As he moved, pain lanced up from his stump, the prosthetic pressing painfully against the tender skin, supersensitive in the subzero temperatures. He hissed, his shoulders hunching at the surge of pain and he gritted his teeth. It had been a long time since the prosthetic was fitted and he guessed he should have gone back for revisions but when he had arrived home and found the disaster that had befallen him, he hadn't the impetus or the will to bother any more. Everything was gone and his life had spiralled downwards from there.

But he hadn't lain down and died. Every time something had stopped him giving up-probably his innate stubbornness. He had made his choices and some of this was a consequence of this-though fate had decreed he was never given a chance to make amends with those he had left behind. His family was gone and his friends…he shuddered. He doubted they even knew he was alive now. No-he had nothing and no one…except Toothless.

He glanced down at the shape curled against him under the edge of the blanket. He knew he was a pretty unappetising sight, curled up wrapped in a ragged blanket and a folded cardboard box, his denim jacket over a filthy hoodie that was over a discarded sweater. His jeans were ragged and going into holes and a heavy boot covered his right foot. Strips of rag were wrapped around his hands as he pulled the blanket tight. He knew there were ice crystals in his scruffy beard and the tip of his nose was freezing, so he pulled up the scarf he had found in the trash a week earlier over his lower face, leaving only the upper part visible with his bright green eyes and some scruffy dark auburn hair poking wildly out from under the peak of his battered Berk Vikings Baseball cap.

Toothless pressed more firmly against him. The black dog was young, very thin and definitely a mixture of various breeds. His big green eyes were intelligent and he was devoted to the man who had pulled the small puppy from the trash, feeding him at the expense of his own hunger and earning a loyal companion and friend-his only friend in the world.

Slowly, he levered himself up, hissing as he put weight through his leg. It was stabbing again and he grimaced as he shuffled another step. Toothless looked up, his ears pricked and he whined.

"I know, bud," he murmured, his voice thick and hoarse from disuse. He didn't speak much now because he only had Toothless to speak to and then he coughed. For a few moments, he struggled with the spasm, grimacing and fighting for breath before he straightened up. "If we stay here, we'll end up as popsicles. Time to see if any of the shelters will take us."

The dog scrambled up and shook himself, limping. He had been kicked recently by a drunk as the pair had quietly sat huddled in an alley behind 'the Edge' Bar and his owner suspected the dog had a cracked bone in his leg-but he had no resources to get the dog treated. so they were a matching pair, limping along, wrapped in a ragged blanket and seeking shelter.

As they made it out onto the street, it began to snow, icy flakes blowing into the man's eyes. He blinked and sighed, his eyes scanning the impressive illuminations arching across the street as they headed up towards the town plaza.

"Yeah," he said bitterly. "Merry Christmas."

oOo

She was a tinsel-free oasis in an ocean of festive sparkles and her friends and work colleagues had long since given up on trying to persuade her to join in with the seasonal spirit. Astrid Hofferson hated Christmas and that was that.

Of course, it hadn't always been thus: for many years, she had been as excited as every other child at the prospect of time off, spent with her loving family and the generous gifts they gave their only child. Her friends had come over or she had visited them and it had always been a time filled with people, laughter and love. But as she grew up, things had changed. Some friends had gone or moved away and her Uncle's death had been a blow, killed on shift as a detective by a gang running guns and drugs. But she had forged on, determinedly enjoying the season until her parents' death, their car hit by a drunk driver who had been enjoying too much seasonal cheer. The drunken man had walked away: her parents had died on impact.

That had broken her attachment to the season, trying to organise their funeral while everyone else was planning their family gathering. So she had thrown away the tree and packed up the decorations that her mother had loved, storing them in the furthest corner of the loft simply because she couldn't bring herself to throw them away either. But that Christmas had been spent with pizza and bourbon, a tradition she had kept to this day, spurning invitations from friends. Sometimes she went away and ignored the season but this year she was at home and thoroughly grumpy.

"You know you're gonna get lines from frowning that hard?" Heather asked her. Astrid was blonde with blue eyes while Heather's hair was raven dark and her eyes green but they acted often like sisters rather than best friends and both braided their hair over their left shoulders, something they had done since they were at High School together. Sisters forever. Astrid flicked her friend an exasperated look.

"If people would stop wasting time chattering about the holidays and got on with their work, we would all be finished sooner," she pointed out grumpily.

"Oh, c'mon-they're just excited…" Heather pointed out gently.

"They can be excited on their own time-during their break," she snapped back, typing furiously. "These orders need getting out before Christmas." Sighing, Heather sat back in her seat and nodded, knowing it was pointless to say any more. Astrid was right, of course and though she was grumpy, she never stopped the other workers in the office decorating their desks or covering the place with tinsel and cards-provided they didn't try to touch her personal space. Astrid was in black because it was the anniversary of her parents' death so honestly, Heather could appreciate her reluctance to join in the excited talk about the season, Especially since this year, she didn't even have the boyfriend who had helped her through the last three years. Their break-up had only happened a couple of weeks earlier and the raven-haired girl guessed it wouldn't improve Astrid's option of Christmastime either.

When the day finally ended at 5.30, the office staff all excitedly grabbed their hats, coats and scarfs and stuffed their cards and presents into their bags before they prepared to leave but Heather paused by Astrid's desk.

"You coming, Astrid?" she asked, her voice concerned. Sighing, Astrid looked up. The whole office were going to 'the Meade Hall', the best cocktail bar in Berk and honestly, she couldn't imagine anything worse…but Heather had begged her to come out for one drink and she had agreed, because her friend would be away for the holidays, spending the time with her older brother in Berserk.

"Okay-one drink," she conceded and switched off her computer. "Really, it's a complete load of fuss over nothing…"

oOo

It was considerably later when Astrid walked through the streets of Berk, heading back for her apartment building. Of course, no one recommended walking through downtown Berk, especially in the freezing winter, but taxis were impossible to find on a party night so close to the holiday so Astrid had struck out, walking briskly and grateful she had brought her boots. She had lasted two cocktails before the inherent cheerfulness of the outing had raised her hackles beyond tolerating. The bar had been infested by people in Santa hats which had been enough to annoy her but the looped tape of Christmas songs had finished her off and she had waved goodbye to Heather and taken her leave alone.

It was snowing which was another annoyance of itself and she slung her bag across her body and increased her pace, speeding up the Plaza and north towards her home. Eyes fixed ahead, she had already turned off the Plaza when she heard the noises and her head snapped round, her fists balling in her mittens. The voices were coming from an alley to her right and she sped up again, ready to break into a run in case some drunk or mugger tried to catch her. But then she heard the groan…and a yelp.

Curiosity got the best of her and she stopped, listening hard. There were a couple of low voices, talking and the tone was menacing. Then there was another voice, rough but slightly nasal, cut short by the thud of a punch. And then there was a small bark. And a yelp.

Spinning on her heel, Astrid marched in the direction of the voices, her hand fishing out her pepper spray. The alley was narrow and gloomy, shrouded in shadows and lurking between the butchers and the motorbike repair shop. As she advanced, her eyes began to adjust and she saw three shapes crowded around one more, cornered against the wall.

"Ain'tcher go nowhere ter go?" a voice growled, as the owner shoved the fourth man back against the wall, He stumbled.

"Obviously not," he replied, sarcasm oozing from his words. "You need to look up what homeless means?"

"We don't like your kind round 'ere," a second man sneered.

"Why? Way I see it, I'm probably improving the tone of the neighbourhood…" the victim said. He was punched and he doubled up, slamming back against the wall. A dog bounded forward and avoided the third man who kicked at it. There was a yell as the mutt got a bite in of his own.

"That thing bit me!" the man protested.

"Attaboy!" the homeless man commented in a groan, an arm still wrapped over his battered middle. The first man kicked him again, this time catching a leg which collapsed under him, dropping him to his knees.

"Kill it!" the first man growled and the bitten man nodded, reaching out and pulling out a knife.

"Hey! What are you doing!" Astrid yelled, fumbling and finding a small but powerful LED torch she kept in her pocket, clicking it on. The brilliant light blinded them as they flinched back. "POLICE!" she added and it had the effect she hoped. The men turned and ran, heads down and sprinting away as she turned her attention to the man on the ground. He was curled up, a hand resting hard against his left knee. Pausing, she approached and he he cringed back.

"I…" he managed but she crouched down.

"I don't mean any harm," she told him briskly. "Do you want me to call someone?" Grimacing, he whistled and the black dog limped towards him.

"He's the only one who actually cares," he admitted gruffly. "If I had anyone else, I would be with them."

"Oh." It was the only thing she could think of to say and as she said it, she felt stupid. "Do you need a hospital?"

"They don't take dogs," he said, his other arm around the very skinny mutt. "I couldn't leave him."

"Are there no shelters open?" she tried.

"I found out today none of them take dogs either," he murmured and sighed. "I'll be fine-thanks, Miss."

"Astrid," she told him gently. "My name is Astrid." He started and peered at her, before he levered himself to his feet.

"Th-thanks…" he mumbled, his breath coming in clouds. "S-sorry…" He was leaning against the wall, his weight almost entirely through his right leg and she frowned.

"Did they hurt you?" she asked worriedly and he gave a humourless laugh.

"Nothing I haven't had a dozen times over," he admitted, coughing and almost doubling up. He was shaking with the effort afterwards. Astrid glanced around: the alley was dark and very cold, there was snow on the ground and large treacherous patch of ice under the leaky down pipe: it was hardly a place to stay.

"Have you had any food?" she asked, suddenly and acutely sober. The forecast was for ferociously low temperatures tonight and this man looked like he was going to freeze. He limped forward and a stray ray of light lit his pale face, framed by a scruffy reddish beard and dark auburn hair poking from under a battered baseball cap. Bright emerald eyes met hers and she gasped: they seemed incredibly familiar. "Do I know you?" she added and he shook his head.

"Um...I doubt it, Miss," he said warily. "Everyone I cared for died or left years ago..." He was clearly fighting not to cough and she felt an unfamiliar concern.

"Look, you can't stay out here," she said briskly and he stared at her, his gaze unfathomable.

"Not much choice with that, Miss," he coughed, another bout wracking him wretchedly. "No one will take Toothless and I can't leave him to freeze." It was a simple statement that unexpectedly brought tears to her eyes. To be so desperate and alone that you would choose death over leaving your only friend...

"You can stay with me!" she said suddenly, staring at the hunched and ragged shape. Eyes widening in astonishment, he shook his head automatically.

"You don't want me," he said in a shamed voice. "I'm worth nothing..." Biting her lip against the stubbornness, she looked at the cute dog, his pricked ears and big green eyes adorable.

"Then do it for Toothless," she said seductively. "You don't want him to freeze, do you?" He gave another humourless laugh.

"Low blow," he rasped, coughing again, glancing down at his companion. "What do ya think, bud? Shall we let this nice lady save us from freezing?" The dog gave a small yip.

"I'll take that as a yes," Astrid said determinedly and stepped forward, grasping his arm. He yelled but she ruthlessly shoved his sleeves up and peered at his arms. "No track marks."

"I'm not a junkie," he said in an offended voice and then he coughed again, gently pulling his arm free and dragging his sleeves down again. "But I guess I can't blame you. As long as you're not a psychopath who picks up homeless guys and locks them in her attic?" She found herself smiling at the sass and shook her head.

"You're safe with me," she promised as he began to limp alongside her, bending to grab a small rucksack and ragged blanket. "It's not far." He smiled and a flutter of recognition warmed her chest.

"I really am very grateful," he admitted as they made their slow way along the street. When he stood up straight, he topped her by half a head, though he was obviously thin and limped hard. The dog walked obediently alongside his master, his eyes fixed adoringly on the man's face and Astrid found herself smiling at the monologue he kept up to the mutt.

He struggled with the steps up to her apartment building, gripping the rail and half-hopping up, his face locked in a grimace of pain. He firmly refused any help, his expression stubborn and Astrid realised that he was already feeling incredibly awkward at accepting her help and she didn't want him to feel any worse. Her second floor apartment was warm and as she hung her coat and hat on the pegs, she saw him warily set his pack down and strip off his boot, coat, hat and hoodie, while the dog sat obediently by his belongings.

He looked much more vulnerable as he faced her, dressed only in his falling apart jeans, grubby sweater and sock and he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. She peered at him and gestured to the bathroom.

"You may want to freshen up," she said. "And I can wash your clothes, if you want?" His eyes widened in shock and then he managed a grateful smile.

"That would be a blessing," he admitted as she showed him how the shower worked, lent him shower gel and shampoo and laid out a couple of fluffy towels before he fished out his toothbrush and razor and nodded his thanks. A few moment later, the door opened a crack and his clothes were pushed out before it closed again.

Astrid grabbed them and picked up all his other discarded items, tossing them into the washing machine with extra powder and fabric conditioner and then she started a long cycle. The shower hadn't started yet so she walked to the door.

"Are you alright?" she called and there was a pause.

"Yeah, thanks," a shaky voice said. He sounded younger and more lost and she rested a hand against the wood gently. "I-I really am very grateful..." She sighed.

"What do I call you?" she asked. "I mean, I've given you my name..."

There was an audible sigh.

"Hiccup," he said.

oOo

In the shower room, Hiccup sat on the toilet and slowly unstrapped his prosthetic, laying it carefully aside. As expected, his stump was sore and there was a deep abrasion that was blistered and raw. He could still recall everything they had told him about caring for the remains of his left leg-what was left after the explosion-but he had been afforded scant chance to do what he should. The sudden switch in his fortunes had him completely thrown, unnerved at being inside someone's home…though he had been in no shape to refuse…and he wasn't insane either. He knew he was probably going to die in that cold. The bossy blonde had been his only salvation.

But every time his luck seemed to turn, something catastrophic usually derailed his life once more and he was fully expecting things to go south and fast. Maybe his sarcastic tongue would insult his hostess or she would realise what a useless article he was and throw him out. Maybe she would refuse to keep Toothless in the house and end up kicking him out. Maybe she would be repelled by the fact that he was incomplete.

But the shelters weren't an option. Without Toothless there to protect him, he couldn't face them again.

He shuddered and covered his face with his hands, trying to calm his shuddering breathing as memories swirled around him and he forced his head up. His body ached and he could feel the bruises from the assault still forming but he couldn't recall the last time he had the chance to be clean and he found himself longing for the opportunity. Levering himself up, he hopped to the shower, flipped it on and stood under the warm water, allowing it to caress his aching body. Of course, he was nothing to look at, a skinny one-legged reject with messy hair, a really bad beard and a stupid name.

Why had he told her his name? She was beautiful, brave and kind. Certainly stubborn, for she wouldn't take no for an answer and had insisted he come in out of the cold. Of course, it was that time of year, though what he had briefly observed of her apartment seemed to be devoid of any seasonal cheer. And she had the same name as his middle school crush, though they had lost contact when he changed schools in Freshman Year at High School when his Dad had moved out of Berk temporarily. And then, of course, he had screwed up his life and fate had done the rest, paying him back and ensuring his only reward was the streets.

He scrubbed away at his hair and body fiercely, trying to stop himself thinking. It was never good when he did so, never positive when he started to recall everything that had happened to him. It was times like that he really craved a drink...until he recalled what had happened when he had been drunken and defenceless and that just ended with him wanting to go curl up and vanish forever.

Finally clean, he flipped the water off and hopped out, sitting down to dry himself before eyeing the razor. Truth be told, he hated having a beard because it was a painful reminder of his Father's magnificent specimen, full and huge and braided, worthy of a Viking chieftain-while his was disappointing, just like everything else about him. So he calmly and methodically shaved it off, ensuring his hair was combed out and his teeth cleaned for good measure. He normally tried to maintain some kind of personal hygiene when visited the public toilets but it was so cold now he couldn't contemplate taking off any clothes even for a few minutes so cleanliness had gone by the wayside. Gritting his teeth, he strapped his prosthetic back on, wound a towel around his shape and was about to emerge when there was another knock at the door.

"I've found some clothes," Astrid said through the wood. "I hope they'll do while yours are being washed..." The door opened a crack and he found himself accepting a pair of grey sweat pants, white T-shirt that was way too large for his lean frame and some training socks. All were clean and smelled fresh and for a long time, he savoured the flowery scent before he dragged them on, self-consciously finger-combing his messy hair before he limped out.

Toothless barked in excitement and immediately jumped up, almost knocking him over and the welcome made him grin broadly.

"Yeah-it's me, bud!" he chuckled, leaning forward to pet the excited mutt. "I'm back-and smelling way better than I did!"

"Hmm-you scrub up well," Astrid said from the kitchen area. The apartment was open plan with kitchen-diner-living area entered through the small cloakroom with the bathroom and beyond it, the bedroom the only separate areas. Hiccup realised that there were the smells of food cooking and he salivated with sudden hunger that overcame his severe self-consciousness so he cautiously limped forward.

"That was the kindest thing anyone has done for me for years," he admitted. "Thanks...though should I worry about the lender of these clothes coming back and kicking me out?" Her brows dipped in a scowl that seemed familiar.

"We ended it two weeks ago," she said tonelessly. "He said I was emotionally closed off but he was hacked off because I found out he was sleeping with the neighbour and called him for it. I've lost enough without being betrayed by the person I thought loved me."

There was a stony silence and he blushed.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "That must have been difficult. I guess that explains why...no Christmas..." She stiffened.

"What is it about this place that you can be considered abnormal because you don't swathe your life in tinsel for a month?" she growled. "My parents were killed by a drunk driver on this day when I was nineteen and since then...what have I got to celebrate? You tell me?" He backed up a pace and grimaced as his leg almost gave way.

"Hey-I got nothing either," he protested. "I mean, I joined the army against my father's wishes, was disowned, got blown up, lost a leg, spent three weeks in a coma, medically discharged and returned home to find my Dad had died, left everything to the Historical Preservation Society and find myself homeless, unemployed and no way of finding any of my friends. And no one would hire me or give me a chance because I was homeless and crippled."

She stared at him.

"And now you're regretting ever bringing me home because I upset you over something I knew nothing about and...oh Thor, I'll get my things and go..."

She stared. There was something about his sudden desperate response that struck a chord, reminding her of her best friend from Middle School, of a skinny undersized boy with light auburn hair, brilliant green eyes and whip-smart sarcasm. Of the friend who had been desolate when he and his father had moved away to Meathead at the start of Freshman Year of High School and who had promised to keep in touch...and who had...but she hadn't. How long had it been before she stopped replying or didn't return or even take his calls, when friends and work and popularly became more important than the friend she made on the first day of Elementary School?

Her eyes focussed on the green eyes and she started.

"Hiccup?" she murmured in shock. "Hiccup Haddock? Is that you?"

He froze, emerald eyes wide as he stared at the woman opposite him. She was beautiful, her ocean blue eyes filled with shock and her liquid golden hair cascading in a braid over her left shoulder. But the voice was familiar...and how many Astrids could there be in Berk?

"A-Astrid Hofferson?" he gasped. She chewed her lip and nodded.

"Oh my Gods-it really is you," she gasped and came forward, staring at the skinny man in front of her, his shoulders a little broader than his slender build would otherwise suggest. Shaven, she could see the tiny scar under the right end of his lower lip, his jaw sharp and skin very pale but still marked with a few faded freckles among the bruises. But the emerald eyes were those of her long lost friend... And then she flung herself forward and hugged him.

For a second, he stiffened before he wrapped his arms tightly around her and buried his face in her shoulder, breathing in her fruity scent. She could feel him shaking and she just held him tight, tears streaming down her face.

"Astrid..." he mumbled into her neck, his breathing ragged. "I'm sorry."

She pulled away slightly to inspect his shamed face and gently lifted her hand to stroke his cheek. He flinched. "Hiccup? What's wrong?" she asked softly. He stared back into her face.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled. "I mean...I wasn't good enough for you when I had all my limbs and was a straight A student...I must disgust you now..." And he tried to cringe away-but Astrid was faster, grasping his arms and pulling him to the couch.

"Why would you say that?" she asked in a distressed voice but he leaned forward, his hands clasped nervously. He shook his head.

"You don't even remember," he sighed. "When Dad moved to Meathead, we promised to stay in touch. That life wouldn't pull us apart. And I tried-I really did. But you got more and more distant. You rejected my calls, never responded to texts and never called back when I left messages with your parents. After six months without a single response, I knew it was done. My best friend had dropped me. And then Dad was just so disappointed that I hadn't grown, that I was nothing like the son he had imagined and hoped for. So my friend Thuggory and I joined up at the start of Senior Year and my Dad tried to forbid me. He threatened that if I walked out of the house, I would be disowned. But what else did I have? A disappointed father and my only friend leaving for the Army. I couldn't lose another friend so...I made my choice."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, guilt surging through her. "I-I should have tried harder. But there was so much going on, so much practice and work and parties and I..." She swallowed. "I failed you." And her heart broke when he shook his head.

"No-it has to be my fault," he mumbled. "I mean, why would you ever have wanted to be friends with this...?" And then he doubled up coughing, each harsh spasm wracking his wasted frame...until a warm arm wrapped around him, a hand gently stroking his back until his breathing finally settled. She sighed as the timer pinged and she rose, fetching pizza and garlic bread from the oven. Deftly she served salad onto the plates along with half a pizza each and brought the whole thing to the coffee table by the couch.

"Eat," she told him firmly, handing him a plate. "You need something warm..." He grasped it gratefully.

"Salad," he commented dryly. "Wow-that will really warm me up!" She smiled and bit into the pizza.

"Try this," she suggested and he took a wary bite-then closed his eyes in ecstasy.

"This is so good," he sighed. "You can't be Astrid Hofferson! She almost poisoned both our parents with some lethal substance codenamed Yaknog when we were fourteen..." She elbowed him lightly, licking cheese from her fingers.

"I had to learn to cook," she told him primly, grabbing a slice of cheesy garlic bread. "I mean, Mom and Dad weren't here and Eret said cooking was woman's work."

"The swine," he agreed. "He was the asshole who cheated on you then dumped you a couple of weeks before Christmas?" She nodded. "Oh, he definitely deserved Yaknog!" She almost choked on her pizza as she burst into laughter.

"I mean, he was an okay guy and he was a lot of fun. We spent every Christmas away which suited me fine...but he always behaved like I was meant to be his servant. When he dumped me I still had a load of washing in the drier which is why you have those clothes and..." She blinked. "Why did he have to betray me?"

Her eyes were shining and though he still had pizza left, he rested his plate down and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a sideways hug.

"Because he's a slime and a muttonhead," he told her, feeling her lean against him. "I mean, you're brave and kind and stubborn and determined...which is probably why I'm not dead or dying in that alley now. You offered a warm place to stay to a complete stranger when you're very unhappy but you wouldn't take no for answer. And..." He sighed. "And I had a crush on you at school. Sorry-coming over all creepy now. But you are amazing then and you're clearly just as amazing now. So he's the fool and he deserves the regrets he'll have for the rest of his life!" His tone had turned hard and she buried her face in his neck.

"You grew up and went through some really horrible things and I never knew," she whispered. "I'm so sorry..." He glanced over and saw Toothless finishing off his pizza.

"Useless mutt," he grumbled. She opened her eyes and smirked, guessing what had happened.

"And he's already had a plate of steak," she added.

"What? You've had steak but you still steal my pizza? So much for man's best friend..." Somehow, Toothless managed to look so alarmed and cute that even Hiccup started to chuckle. "He does that every time," he explained. "Can't imagine why someone would throw such a cute puppy away but you were there in the trash-weren't you, bud?" Her eyes widened in shock and he leaned forward and tousled the dog's ears.

"What? But…why…?" she gabbled helplessly and he shrugged.

"I don't understand why anyone would dismiss someone as valueless but I guess that's happened to me as well," he managed, his tone cynical and she sighed which turned into a yawn.

"Get some rest," she said, rising and gathering the plates. As he stared after her, she ducked into a cupboard and brought out a spare pillow and a couple of blankets. Kindly, she handed them to him. "Will you be okay?" He looked around and patted the couch.

"A chance to sleep on a nice soft couch compared to the cold ground?" he asked her with a small smile. "Thank you, Astrid." She smiled as she headed into the bathroom to clean her teeth but when she emerged, she found him already curled up on the couch, snuggling the pillow with the blankets pulled up over him and Toothless curled hard against the couch. His emerald eyes were heavy, the green dulled by weariness but he smiled as the blonde glanced at him.

"Sleep well," she smiled, switching off the main light but leaving the side lamp on as she headed into her bedroom. There was a click as she locked the door and he sighed.

"G'night, Astrid," he mumbled as sleep claimed him.