While many Berkians often wondered how Nuffink came about his name, the boy himself never asked. It was kind of just accepted, then embraced, as a quirky fact about himself, and he had long since grown used to the teasing. Besides, was it really worse than Fluffnut or Spikelout?

Secretly, though, his (and Zephyr's) money was on their father, what with Hiccup's dorky sarcasm and extraordinary naming history. Finn considered himself lucky to have gotten away with 'Nuffink' when he first read about the fabled fjord of the Itchy Armpit.

Only Hiccup and Astrid knew the truth. The name hadn't been chosen to ward off trolls or gnomes. It hadn't been picked by Hiccup, even, and there was actually nothing goofy or jokey about the name at all.

The baby had been a midsummer's child, you see, considered to be a great omen. In the days after his birth the sun never set, washing the lands with its brilliance. The village had been celebrating the birth of their beloved Chief's first son, a boy bound to be adored by all.

And as the sun made circles in the sky, Astrid laid indoors, dying of childbed fever.

The willow barks and Gothi's concoctions worked, for a time, but then the situation worsened drastically. Her temperature kept rising, until the point where ice on her forehead caused her physical pain. She was thirsty all the time, and delirious, and constantly shivered even beneath three woolen blankets.

Only Hiccup, Valka, and Gothi knew about Astrid's condition. And they all knew they were losing her.

Hiccup refused to leave her side, feeding her and bathing her and changing the dressings for her birthing wounds, cleaning up the pus without a care. But as hope dwindled, the young Chief began to waste away. The brightness in his eyes was soon gone, replaced by a vacant stare as he watched his wife descend into death, completely helpless. He avoided everyone — his mother, his daughter, the newborn babe who didn't have a name yet.

On the second Thor's day after the baby's birth, Astrid woke up, and saw Hiccup dozing by her bedside, thin and sallow and a husk of his former self.

She knew what was happening. She knew she was dying — and while that was scary, she knew her ancestors were awaiting her in Valhalla, and she had fought valiantly in life, and there was no shame to die for the life of her child. But she also knew that her death would break Hiccup beyond repair. He'd already lost Stoick and Toothless, and she was his last, brightest beacon of light. If she was snuffed out, he would be plunged into the abyss… and Berk would plunge with him.

Astrid needed him to be strong, even after she's gone. She tried to speak to him. She wanted to see their son.

He woke up immediately, frantic and guilt-stricken that he'd fallen asleep. Soon the baby was brought to the room, and Astrid was holding him, smiling. Hiccup couldn't bring himself to smile. In that moment, if he were honest, he even hated his own son.

Astrid saw his expressions and reached out. He leapt to grab her hands, which were cold and shivering, and was alarmed by how little strength she had left. Yet, there was not an expression of discomfort on her, and when he looked down at her smiling up at him, he broke.

"I can't imagine a world without you," he croaked out, collapsing at the foot of her bed. "I can't."

"I still remember the day when you first said that to me," she replied, ruffling his hair gently. "I'm a mother, Hiccup. It's an occupational hazard."

He was suddenly furious that she'd used his own words against him. He wanted to stand up and kick the walls, but he was careless with his foot and lost his balance, crashing to the floor again. He pummeled the ground next to him, and when he felt her hand squeeze his ever so slightly, he buried his head in the sheets.

"Please, m'lady," he rasped, and that's when she noticed the dampness. When she caressed his face and lifted it up, his cheeks were streaming freely with tears. "I can't lose you too. I can't. I'll have nothing left — nothing to care about — nothing to live for. Please, m'lady."

By the end his voice was barely a harsh whisper. Perhaps the tone of it startled the baby, for he woke and began to wail.

Astrid felt herself getting weaker again. She thought Odin must have taken pity on her and given her this short stretch of clarity in her fevered state, but time was running out.

She cupped her husband's face, and leaned forward to kiss him deep. He was still sobbing.

"Hiccup," she said as she laid back onto the bed, her voice barely audible above the infant's cry. "I've found a name for our son."

Hiccup almost wanted to be angry, for his son was the last thing on his mind right now. But he saw she was fading fast, and humored her. "What is it, m'lady?" he managed to ask.

"Nothing," she whispered, panting. "Nothing, nothing… Nuffink Haddock. You said you would have nothing left, nothing to care about, nothing to live for. Well, you're right." She held up the baby with the last ounces of her strength.

"This is your Nuffink. You'll have him to remind you of me. You'll have him to care about. You'll have him to live for.

Promise me, Hiccup. Live. For him."

Astrid would not die that day. Fortunately, Gothi had dug through the village records, and found an old recipe some long-lost warrior had raided from distant shores. It spoke of a grotesque mixture of molded bread and fruits which, when boiled and purified, should be capable of curing the most dire of ailments. With nothing left to lose, Hiccup ordered her to follow the recipe.

Maybe Odin was moved by the young woman's tenacity and love, and decided she shouldn't join his Valkyries just yet. Two days after the moldy potion was given, the fever released Astrid from its grasp.

Most of Berk was none the wiser about this ordeal. They thought the Chieftess had caught a simple cold, but was soon recovered and accepting visitors again. The village also had a good laugh over the youngest Haddock's name.

"That's what you two came up with?" Snotlout had said, exasperated. "You two had three weeks, and you came up with Nuffink!?"

Hiccup only smiled tiredly as he stood by the bed. He and Astrid exchanged a small look, and agreed that it would be their little secret.

Later that night, with the sun still high up in the sky, Hiccup fell asleep. Astrid ordered an extra cot brought in, and the Chief didn't even stir as Snotlout and Fishlegs lifted him up and dumped him on the mattress.

He ended up sleeping for two days straight. When he woke up and freshened himself up, he discovered to his surprise that he sported a thin beard. He'd neglected to shave for the whole past month after all. He took out his razor stone, and was about to do away with the thing when Astrid strode in, nursing little Nuffink.

"Looking very Chiefly," she remarked.

Hiccup smiled, and put down the razor stone.

Author's Note:

Thanks for reading! If you want more of Zephyr and Nuffink kicking ass, check out my Haddock family fic titled Once There Were Dragons.

I might add to this fic as well if I come up with more interesting headcanons.