*edited*
     Heather walked around the edge a light rain misted around her. Dagur had just sacrificed himself for them, for her, a few hours ago. She pulled out the folded letter and read it over and over again. Dagur had told them the key to defeating Viggo, and also about their father. Dagur may have changed a bit, but there was still wavering doubt that plagued Heather's mind. Heather's thoughts encircled her, shutting her off from the world.
     "Hey!"
     Heather jumped, snapping out of her trance. "Hi Fishlegs," Heather whispered.
     "You okay?" He looked at her with a concerned face.
     "Yeah," Heather mumbled, not making eye contact.
     Fishlegs stepped in front of her and lifted her head to look at her. His hand brushed away the light tears that fell onto his hand. He kept his hand on her cheek for a bit, then pulling her into a hug. He gently enveloped her small frame, while Heather buried her face into his tunic.
     She pulled away and looked at him. "Thanks Fishlegs."
He nodded. "Let's run away for a bit." After Fishlegs said those words, he offered his hand, which she gladly accepted. They mounted Meatlug and flew away. The wind buffeted them, though Fishlegs acted like a wall for Heather. When they landed on a faraway island, she looked around at the beautiful scenery. Heather jumped as a lot of rustling sounded.
"I brought a picnic," Fishlegs said shyly. "Call me an optimist, but I was hoping you would accept."
Heather smiled softly and nodded. She and Fishlegs sat down as he unwrapped a few chicken thighs and some bread. Heather gladly took her portion, not realizing how hungry wallowing makes you. As they shared their lunch, they talked of their adventures.
"They really asked you why you wanted money for passage?" Fishlegs laughed.
"Mhm," Heather mumbled. "They really did!"
"That's funny," Fishlegs said, finding his laughter retreating.
Heather swallowed her bite. She tilted her head and pondered over her next question. "So, how's a guy like you still a single pringle?"
"Well, I haven't found the right girl yet," Fishlegs said. Heather's comforting look egged him on to reveal the reason. "No Viking girl like the heartfelt type, they look for strong buff guys," Fishlegs said solemnly.
"I know a girl who likes that type," Heather suggested.
"Who?" Before the word was out he found Heater pressing a soft kiss on his lips. He returned it, but was broken away when Heather pulled back.
Heather's green eyes blinking open. "Me."
Fishlegs wore the stupidest grin. "Really?"
Heather nodded. Fishlegs pulled her closer to him. They shared their first official kiss on an island by the name of Iceland. They enjoyed the rest of their picnic, but also talked of the future. Or more specifically, their future.