It had come! Thank the stars, it had come at last!
Upon hearing his typically impassive wife babble her newly received news to him, her hands gesticulating wildly with eyes as round as river pebbles, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III had tried, failing entirely, to process within his reeling mind the life-altering developments she had thrust upon him. Yet after a long and rather uncomfortable silence had enveloped the two people, while the crackling of the forge set to drown the moment in some form of sound, his mind comprehended the statement laid before him. It was then that the Chief of Berk witnessed the heavens opening, glorious tendrils of sunshine pouring into every darkened corner of his soul and lightening every shadow with dizzying realization and joy. Throwing his arms around the form of his wife which quaked with anticipation and emotion at his sudden outburst, he gathered her up by her rapidly expanding waistline and together he spun the two of them around at an exorbitant speed. It was then that she began to laugh, quiet in the beginning, unsure of her husband's true feelings toward the news she had so abruptly given him. Yet as she beheld the purest form euphoria pouring from his viridian eyes as he gazed up at her, she knew her sudden doubts were groundless. The moment they had waited so diligently for had come at long last. In that instant, where their eyes locked and their emotions became one, they found themselves laughing uncontrollably, ecstatically; with the realization of all their hopes and dreams of the last seven years finally coming to fruition a startling, and yet undeniably blissful, prospect. It was as though, in Hiccup's perception, he were feeling the same sensations he had felt when he tasted and smelled the sky's fragrance, or the dampness of the clouds brushing against his face for the first time. They were the same emotions he had sensed when he had first sat atop his dragon's back, the elation of flight tangible and euphoric in his mind and soul.
Yet this was something different, something more than mere feelings of freedom. After all their struggles and all their trials, they were finally receiving what they had prayed so diligently for. All those sleepless nights of lying under the animal skin bedcoverings staring at the ceiling, wondering what he had ever done to ever deserve the plight that plagued the both of them, were not in vain. The spell had been lifted, and they were free from its clutches at last.
When Hiccup returned his wife down to earth upon her more characteristic pleadings to "quiet down", his beloved dragon had then discovered his human counterparts clumsily dancing about with squawks of delight. Wishing to participate in what seemed to him a rather exciting ritual, he bounded toward his two companions only to be chased about the smithy by his ecstatic rider who wished to tell him the good news and perhaps strangle him to death with affection. The poor creature had no understanding of the true significance of this moment, and being chased about and cooed at so suddenly and without warning, he proceeded thereafter to avoid all the commotion despite his previous desires to be amongst it. The villagers could then observe the Night Fury, the offspring of lightning and death itself, slinking about the village square on the night of the healer's official announcement in an effort to remain undetected by his exceptionally pleased companions.
When the inhabitants of the island of Berk were relieved of their suspicions by Gothi's proclamation, they celebrated the recent development as if it were their own. They too had heard of the Chief and his wife's struggles to bear a child, and the news brought about much festivities and merriment.
Despite all the well-wishing and general enthusiasm that came with their pronouncement, the young couple made time despite all of their responsibilities to find a place to be in the midst of their own company; where they could quietly and without disturbance discuss the new and rather unknown prospects that awaited them in the future. The two had since found that they could better cope with the developments life handed them when they were able to be alone together, to share the thoughts and feelings that only the privacy of each other's ears could afford. Seeing Astrid's need for this time soon after they had become aware of the growing seed within her, Hiccup had gathered together some substance of a meal and assembled her and their dragons for an evening flight to the secluded island which he had affectionately named "Itchy Armpit" years ago. They had sat on the edge of the cliff face overlooking the mist blanketed valley, a fire crackling comfortingly in the background as they consumed the meal he had prepared. As the sun settled behind the distant mountains ahead, hiding its face from the forthcoming moon, they had made camp. There they laid, faces close together with the warm breath of the other softly brushing against their cheeks while staring heavenward at the countless spray of stars that were studded in the sky. It was in those still and quiet moments that they allowed the inner contemplations of their souls to be poured forth. Such fear, they had, of the future. For they had felt this elation, this true sense of joy before, only to soon realize that it all had been a mistake, a hollow, fruitless occurrence that left their hearts and arms empty of the thing they wanted most. The unknown lay before them dark and foreboding, almost taunting in its promises of hope and a future and yet so very frightening, so indefinite. Their own previous limitations lay open before their eyes only to leave them feeling inadequate and woefully unprepared.
That had been eight long and strenuous months in the past now. As their fears of prematurely losing the child dwindled and her waist expanded greater each day, Hiccup felt the initial fears that surrounded him evolve into something more imminently frightening. Him, a genuine father; what a worrisome notion! He often felt he could barely keep everything in his care from being carried away on the angry seas; much less play the part of peacemaker and diplomat to the surrounding villages when times called for such action. How on earth could he possibly be a good father to a child when he barely knew of the workings of life himself? Little did he realize how very much like his father he was in those moments, fear of inadequacy and failure to be someone he had yearned to be for so long poisoning the thankfulness in his heart. When the strain of concern was heavy upon his features, friends and tribe members had tried to kindly knock some sense into his fretting mind, with the exception of Tuffnut, who took the head knocking to a literal level. They had encouraged him as best they could through those lengthy months, be it words of advice or a good-natured critique, but each of them knew that only the man himself could decide his own merit. Hiccup would force a smile, thank them for their words, and be on his way. He knew they were only trying to be helpful, yet none of their good-natured reassurances and polite jokes soothed his bruised emotions. It was often on those occasions that he would appear at the doorstep of a certain lodge in the early hours of the morning, give the sentry a friendly scratch behind the facial fins, and quietly let himself inside. Moments later, smoke would begin to send gray tendrils floating from the chimney, signaling the start of another reassuring conversation with Mom. She always seemed to know exactly what to say to him.
Yet despite his frantic efforts to prepare himself for the tasks ahead, the awaited day pounced upon them all, leaving everyone completely unsure whether they were ready or not. It arrived in the form of a bitter, hostile night with the winter wind howling like a wounded, bewitched creature. The snow was already a man's height in depth within the first hour, yet the fireplace in the house of the chief burned hotter than the sun on a midsummer's afternoon. The occupants huddled within, waiting upon baited breath for the arrival of the chief's firstborn. Friends of the family were restrained to the lower level of the house, where any noises from above sent everyone present into a flurry of speculations. More unscrupulous members of the welcoming committee cast friendly lots as to the gender of the coming child, causing several masculine and feminine arguments to erupt amongst the gatherers. The midwives were quick to dispel all commotions with a swift stomping down the stairs and a steely stare toward the offenders.
Oblivious to the worrisome happenings occurring mere yards away, the chief had decided it would be best to barricade himself within the Great Hall. Because the womenfolk caring for the soon-to-be mother of his child would not allow him to step one metal foot into the bedchamber, and the blood chilling howls of pain that could still be heard caused chills to slither down his spine, he found refuge within the quiet, peaceful atmosphere inside the hulking stone structure; there it had remained despite it all for generations. Here he could sit upon the chief's seat, which he often marveled was actually his now, and stare into the curling flames reaching tendrils toward the brooding sky. These were his efforts to remain remotely sane, yet he soon realized how vain the attempts were becoming.
Additionally, it seemed that there was a continuous rule when it came to expectant fathers: they were never allowed time to be alone. Soon enough, garish, boisterous voices could be heard reverberating throughout the high ceilings of the hall. As the news spread of the forthcoming blessing's rapidly approaching arrival, some of the braver of Berk's residents came to say their congratulations, be it a hearty slap on the back or a knowing chuckle. Inevitably, his friends came to pay their respects, as Snotlout aptly put it with a dig to Hiccup's shoulder, sending said father-to-be reeling deeper into a silent state of psychological frailty. It was much later in the night that the chief was finally left alone to fend for himself, with the exception of Fishlegs, who had remained despite the welcome exodus. Hiccup remained rooted to his seat, the cold stone biting his back despite his fur cape while his own calloused hand rubbed his temples in an effort to sooth his whirling thoughts. The lack of news, of being completely ignorant of something so personal, so important, a piece of his very being, was pushing him towards madness. Fishlegs had been watching his friend out of the corner of his eye for some time, sensing the same anxieties and frustrations that he himself had felt many a time. He smiled sympathetically toward his chief in spite of Hiccup's inability to comprehend his surroundings, or that he was not, in fact, alone. Shuffling slightly toward his friend, Fishlegs adjusted his hold on a ruddy cheeked, blonde-haired infant who was raising its chubby arms to pull at his scraggly whiskers. Winching at the child's strong grip, he reached for a lonesome mutton bone lying stripped on a forgotten plate, to which the child squealed in delight and began to gum the joint end contentedly.
"I wouldn't pull on that if I were you," Fishlegs quipped upon looking upwards, inclining his head toward his chief and friend.
Hiccup jumped at the sudden intrusion to his thoughts, his hand frozen with an index finger extended to twist around a strand of his beard. He looked at the man next to him with skepticism.
"Why not?"
Fishlegs merely raised an eyebrow, smirking as he gestured to the sparse covering upon his own face.
"After four of these," he paused to nod at the infant in his arms, who had sucked off a minute portion of mutton and was trying diligently to eat it despite her lack of teeth. "It stops coming back…"
"Duly noted, thank you."
As Hiccup turned away to resume staring moodily at the fire in the main pit, his companion's face turned to a solemn expression. Getting up, he edged to a seat closer to the worried father-to-be. Before he could say what he had wished to, Hiccup spoke suddenly, his eyes averted from whom he was addressing, the voice muffled by the fist on which his chin rested.
"What I wouldn't give for Toothless to be here right about now…"
Fishlegs smiled sympathetically, knowing the added burden placed on his friend's already heavy shoulders. He had witnessed the strong bond between the chief and the alpha dragon. He also understood the strength of his own attachment to Meatlug; yet he could not begin to comprehend the bond that the two kindred spirits shared. Yet even in this desperate time, when Hiccup required the comfort of his companion more than ever, he had sacrificed that need for a greater good, a bigger purpose than himself.
"You did right by letting him go with the others. As the alpha, he must protect those in his care. Besides, every dragon needs an opportunity to be their own master for a time."
"I imagine he'll be back in a day or two. Then we can fetch back the hatchlings in time for the holiday," Hiccup thought aloud, his mind wandering to distant islands where the dragons preferred to nest. Letting his beloved Night Fury, who depended on him so fully, go free into a harsh and hostile world made him shiver despite the cold. Yet the dragon had matured drastically since their first meeting, even more so since the fight against Drago Bludvist ten years prior. He was still his ever playful self, infuriatingly lovable in his escapades, but there was something different about him. He had broadened, thickened in his build; yet there was something other than his physical appearance that showed change. His persona had altered from being an oversized mutt to something much different, something more regal, refined. He was a leader. In spite of this, Hiccup still fretted over him, because no matter how independent Toothless appeared to be, he needed Hiccup. They needed each other, and both of them knew it.
"I'm sure he will be fine."
At this final remark, Hiccup returned from his mental wanderings to flash a pained, yet thankful smile toward the speaker, to which he received a firm pat on the shoulder in reply.
A moments silence came between the two men, with only the crackling of the fire, the growling of the wind outside the two great doors, and the smacking of the baby's lips as an unusual background symphony against their inner thoughts. Hiccup suddenly felt the silence, the cold of the room, and the wordless presence next to him extremely grating on his frayed nerves. He shifted abruptly, turning to cock his head toward the infant tucked in Fishlegs' meaty arm and tried to resurrect a semblance of new conversation. He would do anything to dislodge, or at the very least, postpone the anxious contemplations that had taken hold of his soul.
"Which one is this," he asked kindly, holding out two welcoming hands; a beckoning gesture to hold the child.
Fishlegs, who had perceived the awkward silence as equally unnerving as Hiccup had, immediately smiled proudly and gently placed the child into the receiving arms of the chief, who then proceeded to coo at the child in a manner that some might equate to that of a mother dragon warbling at her hatchlings. A rather un-Viking like manner which made Fishlegs smile all the more. He had heard of Hiccup's waning confidence in his child-rearing capabilities and had tried to impart a few comforting words, but seeing the man now only cemented in his own mind how wonderful a father he would soon be.
"This is Freyja," he replied softly, chuckling as the child reached upwards to attack the thick shock of auburn whiskers covering the chief's jawline. She was rambunctious, just like her mother, and soon to be a troublemaker when the time came for her to begin walking. "A holy terror," Fishlegs thought to himself momentarily.
Hiccup smiled into the gray-green orbs of the babe, reaching forward to replace his rapidly thinning beard with an index finger, her chubby fist grabbing ahold of it strongly. His grin only widened as he received a toothless smile and a giggle in response to his antics.
"The name's apt," he declared, taking a mere moment away from the child's gaze to shoot a beaming glance at the little girl's father. "She's beautiful."
Suddenly, his face screwed together in discomfort while biting his lip in an attempt to restrain a yelp of pain as she began to squeeze the very life from his finger. Only then did she decide that the digit was very much subdued and take said finger to her gums and chew lustily.
"And strong," Hiccup winced as Fishlegs rushed to pry her new toy away from her mouth and take her back into his arms. Her lower lip suddenly drooped into a pout and her eyes crinkled together as if about to cry, but her father expertly distracted her with the overlooked mutton bone from mere moments before.
"She's teething, I'm afraid," the father stated, an apologetic glance steered toward the chief's hand. He opened his mouth to speak again, but no words came. The man sitting in the stone seat was holding his offended hand in the other, his eyes glazed over with thoughtful concentration. Fishlegs frowned, knowing to who the man was placing his thoughts towards. It was simply reasonable that he could distract himself for only so long before coming back to reality and its currently obscure state.
"They'll be fine, just you wait and see."
A grunt signaled that his comforts had been received, but the response to his words was seasoned with a slight bitterness.
"That's easier for you to say. You and Ruffnut had four with no problems. We-we haven't been so fortunate…"
Hiccup grimaced at the sting the words left on his tongue, realizing the cutting effect of what he had just spoken. It was not the other man's fault that it had taken seven years for him and his wife to conceive a child. Truly, they had tried many a time, but each effort brought only ruination and despair. They had come so close to holding a babe in their arms, so close to feeling their hearts and lives become complete when it had been whisked away from them like a feather on a brisk breeze. It was only when Astrid had gone to Gothi merely to be examined regarding a bout of fatigue did the healer and counselor declare her to be, to everyone's surprise, with child.
Oh, how worried was he now. They had never come this far in difficult times past. What would it do to the both of them if another tragedy struck them down? He inhaled sharply, trying with great determination to block the tears that threatened to prick at the corners of his eyes. If he must weep, he did so alone, where the people who relied on him could not see or comprehend. It would not do for his people to see their leader as weak or incapable of holding himself together, despite the fact that it occurred more often than he would want to admit.
His companion beside him sat quietly, sensing the emotions tangibly radiating from his friend's being. To comfort him with flowery says or reassurances that were not known to be true was futile. The chief had been through a tremendous amount of rough periods in his still-short time on the earth, and he had become toughened by them. Yet he was still sensitive when times called for it, and Fishlegs marveled that the man was not more bitter and harsh than he had been moments before. Thinking carefully, he put together the words that came from his heart, in hopes to comfort the man without embarrassing him.
"I know it's been hard for you, losing your father, the little one, everyone else that was gone from your life. You've been robbed of a lot of things. But you have so much now: your mother, Astrid, the baby that will be all right. You even have the best dragon this world will ever be given. It would be a waste of those gifts if you never stopped living in the past to enjoy them, wouldn't you say?"
After he had finished speaking, Fishlegs suddenly felt a wave of regret wash over him, seeing the posture of the chief unchanged and no less upset. Perhaps he had spoken out of turn… Who was he to lecture the Chief of the Hooligan Tribe on the manner in which he lived his life?
Hiccup turned to look at the man beside him, trying to let the gratefulness of Fishlegs' guiding words show on the expression adorning his face. He opened his mouth to speak despite the lump stuck painfully in his throat, only to be interrupted by the sudden groaning of the Great Hall's doors as someone hurried forward, yelling anxiously down to the opposite end where the two men were sitting.
"Chief, it's time!"
Without so much as a second heartbeat, Hiccup had launched himself from the seat and barreled blindly toward the doors, not even attempting to dodge the poor messenger, who nearly avoided falling over by grabbing for the stone pillar adjacent the door. Hiccup continued forward with great momentum into the howling wind to step onto the threshold leading to the stairs below. It was then that his metal foot, despite all its improvements since its first necessitation, slid forward on the ice clinging to the stone floor, causing its user to completely lose his balance and fall backwards. Before he or anyone close to him could stop his descent, the Chief of Berk and Dragon Master slithered down the entire length of the flight of stairs, leaving a deep imprint in the newly fallen powder. All present to witness the chief's mishap looked on in disbelief as the man immediately jumped up after his painful plummet and galloped across the great expanse of the snow toward his house with not so much as a hitch in his gait.
"Great howling thunderdrums," the messenger exclaimed loudly, looking with wide-eyed wonderment toward Fishlegs, who had rushed forward during the commotion. "The man's mad!"
Fishlegs grinned, his eyes sparkling with understanding, "He has every right to be!"
Important A/N: So, after a month of sitting on my computer looking lonesome, I decided to finally post this. There will be another chapter, possibly three in all, but definitely two. Unfortunately, I've become rather distracted with other interests at the moment, so I don't think I'll be finishing the second chapter super soon. I'd like to take my time and do it right. A third of it is already written, so never fear, this will be completed! ;)
Thoughts/Reviews are appreciated!