Hiccup smiled as he finally opened the doors to his first art show. He was so proud to see his name advertised in the local papers, up on posters, in small ads everywhere. There wasn't a huge queue to get in but it would certainly make him some profit, and besides, there'd almost certainly be more later today. Plus, the show was open for three days, and if a buyer came by who was interested then there was serious potential in his works. And his father said that he painting wouldn't make a living! He was so glad he went to art school now rather than trained to be in the armed forces. He'd done a really severe army camp one summer at his father's insistence when he was fifteen and an incident with a backfiring cannon led to his left leg being amputated. He was used to his prosthetic five years on, and he'd overcome all his difficulties, more or less.

The paintings he was displaying were ones he was genuinely proud of, he was happy to say. Many featured characters he didn't even know, he'd made them up as he went along. However they all had simular backgrounds. They all seemed to be very mythical. He'd painted mortal Vikings and fiersome dragons and the land that had fascinated him ever since he was a child. Asgard. There was great god Thor weilding his mighty hammer, Odin, the beautiful Freyja and the trickster Loki. He didn't base them on the movies, he'd taken their appearances and elaborated or taken away pieces to create work that was truly his own. That was just the first wall, the wall of the Vikings he called it. He'd been up all night putting them in place and the theme worked really well for him. On another wall were some basic portraist of celebrities which he knew would go down well anyway, and on another was his own style.

He'd been working on this for some time. A style where the eyes were larger and the head was slightly out of proportion to the rest of the body, but not so large that it looked ludicrous. It looked almost like the animated Disney films but it was too realistic for that. The paintings looked like they were able to jump off of the page. This was where he'd placed his favourite painting of all, because it was the one he was most proud of.

An archer with flaming hair, whipping in the wind. He'd seen an article in the paper about a girl who'd won an archery competition and he thought she looked amazing with her azure eyes and curls that burned so vibrantly the sun ought to be jealous. So he painted her, but as an archer from the Dark Ages. The time of the Vikings, but based in a Scotland in a forest clearing. She was shooting a target whilst leaping over a log on a magnificent Shire horse, detirmination and confidence etched into her face. Hiccup knew that she'd have hit the target, no matter what. That girl from the contest was beautiful and talented, something he'd never be in the world of sports.

As the days drew on, he'd had a couple of offers for paintings but none was enough to match the time and effort spent preparing them all. In the end some of his Viking paintings sold for a respectable price but not nearly as much as he'd been hoping for. At the whole show, as some of the last visitors were trickling away and Hiccup was beginning to pack up, a girl rushed in, her ticket flying out of her hand and onto the desk where she leaned over, panting.

"Am I too late? The buses were running slow and I only just found out you were in town and I knew I couldn't miss it on the last day -"

Hiccup's breath stopped. It was the girl from the archery contest, the one he'd drawn. She was even more gorgeous up close, that hair, those eyes! Hiccup pulled himself together quickly.

"Please don't tell me you're packing up," she said, eyeing the boxes and bubble wrap.

"Well, it's technically not due to close for another hour," Hiccup sighed, "but there weren't any other people here and I thought that no one else was coming."

"Are you kidding me?" the girl's voice sounded incredulous. "I've wanted to see your paintings in person for months! You had a feature in the Burgress Times, didn't you?" Hiccup nodded with a small blush. "I saw it and I knew I had to meet you in person. Get a painting. Seriously, that style you created, it's beautiful."

"I wouldn't say that," Hiccup shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck, his blush finally beginning to fade. "I mean it was kind of based on the Disney style -"

"But it's too real for that," she cut across him, staring at the wall dedicated to them. "They look like they're alive. Like they're human, but they can't be. If you get what I'm saying."

"I know," he sighed. "There is that, one, specific thing. But the buyers didn't think so. None of them sold. They thought it was too adventurous for such a young artist."

"They're idiots," she almost snapped with irritation. "Anyone who can't see the potential here must be bli -"

She stopped. And stared. And continued staring. Oh Gods. She'd seen it.

"No way," she breathed, walking closer to the painting. "No way, this is, oh my gods, this is - I can't even find the words -"

"I saw you in an article about an archery competition," Hiccup started, another blush creeping up his neck like an invasion of some kind. One that had one purpose, to make him feel awkward in social situations. With girls. "I just thought it'd be nice, to, you know, imagine you in a different time period, I kind of guessed you were Scottish and that's why, the Shire horse, and, well..."

"It's amazing," she whispered, her fingers brushing the frame delicately.

"It's my favourite one I've ever painted," Hiccup admitted.

"I guess it would be too much to ask if I could buy it off of you then?" she asked, slightly nervously which seemed completely out of character for her. "I mean, if it's too much, knowing it was your favourite -"

"No," Hiccup said quickly, "no, seriously, you can have it."

Her eyes lit up and her mouth curled into a heart-stopping smile.

"How much are you asking for it?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"Nothing. It's a picture of you. You can have it."

"I'm sorry," she said, waving him away, "I can't have a picture by Hiccup Haddock and not be expected to pay something for it."

"Fine. A fiver."

"Stop joking me around. How long did it take you to paint?"

"Seriously, it doesn't matter to me -"

"How long did it take you?"

"A week," he mumbled under his breath. She nodded and smiled.

"That deserves at least one-hundred," she started and when Hiccup began to protest she cut him off again, "and the fact that you used such professional materials, another fifty at least."

"Wait just a second -"

"Finally, the pure talent. You said yourself, it's your favourite piece you'ev ever painted. So that's one-hundred right there."

"You can't spend two-hundred-and-fifty pounds on one of my crappy paintings!" Hiccup almost shouted. She raised her eyebrows.

"I got lots of prize money from the contest you saw me in. I think I can."

"Look -"

"I'm not leaving until you accept or I have to force this money into your bank account myself," she said stubbornly. Hiccup sighed and snatched up a form.

"Name?"

"Merida Dunbroch," she said, smiling. Hiccup's eyes went as wide as side plates.

"No. Not the Merida Dunbroch. No way. No. Here? In my gallery? You've got to be joking..."

"What about it?" Merida looked confused. Hiccup could have kicked her for her ignorance.

"You won the nationals!" He nearly tore his hair out in frustration. "You represented the whole of Scotland! And you expect me to be calm that this amazing, witty, clever, gorgeous and talented girl wants to buy one of my pictures?"

"What was that?" Merida's freckled face wore a small smile.

"Huh?" Hiccup said, confused, then he realised exactly what he'd blurted out. "Oh Gods, no, that's not what I meant to say, not that you're not pretty! Or gorgeous! What I meant was you're just so, advanced in certain fields, no, that's not what I - oh Thor..."

"You're not so bad yourself," she grinned, filling in the rest of the form with a nimble hand; her fingers almost dancing across the page. She handed Hiccup the completed form and the money she promised him. He waved it away.

"Hiccup," Merida was serious now, "I mean it. You deserve this. You worked so hard on these. I dreamed of owning one of these paintings and honestly you deserve so much more than these stupid art buyers have given you. Please."

"I don't want money."

"What do you want then? Let me give you something. I can't have you mailing me that painting knowing that I gave you nothing. Why do you paint if you don't want to earn anything from it?"

She had taken a step closer to him. Hiccup's hands went sweaty.

"I want appreciation," he said, surprisingly calmly. "I want people to recognise me for who I am and what I can do. I want my art displayed in galleries. But I don't want money for it. Knowing I'd achieved that would be enough."

Merida almost started and fell backwards as he finished speaking.

"That's all I wanted with my life," she whispered. "But I took the rewards and the appreciation. Maybe I didn't need it. In fact, I didn't need it, I just wanted to have something as a result of how much work I'd put into it. You deserve those too Hiccup."

"I don't want money, how many times do I have to tell -"

Suddenly her lips were against his and her hand was in his hair and his knees went weak and his lips were moving back against hers and his heart had almost stopped and it was ending too fast and he needed oxygen all too soon. He pulled away before he wanted to, before he was ready. He was bad at kissing, he realised horribly in that moment. His eyes had opened now and they'd opened wide, glassy and full of bewilderment. Merida Dunbroch just kissed him. Merida Dunbroch, the beautiful archer. Merida Dunbroch, who thought he had talent.

"I told you that you weren't that bad," she smiled slightly nervously. "Was that enough payment for your beautiful painting, considering you didn't want any money?"

Hiccup pretended to think for a moment when he'd figured out how to breathe again.

"Hmm. I think I'll be requiring a further investment on that."

"Oh shut up," Merida grinned and pulled at his green plaid shirt whilst their lips found each others again. Hiccup's hands found their way to stroke her deliciously soft curls, her hands were on his chest and everything was happening too fast again and he was about to fall over with the insaneness of it all. Luckily she drew away before that could happen.

"Oh crap," she mumbled, "I'm late for practice." She threw an envelope on the table, unnoticed by Hiccup who was still in a daze. "I'll see you around?" Hiccup could only nod and grin crookedly in reply. Then she was out of the door and away before she could say another word. That was when Hiccup noticed the envelope and the completed form on the table.

There was her address and her home phone number as required, but she'd scribbled a couple of other numbers outside the printed boxes.

Starbucks, tomorrow, 12 noon. M x

Hiccup smiled like he's never smiled before in his life. Then he remembered the envelope and he groaned in part frustration. Gods, she was stubborn.

She'd left the £250.