A somber, depressing look embraced her face, as her arms held fast to the newborn in her arms. She cradled the infant close to her breast, watching her little one feed. It always amazed her, watching her children bond with her in a way only a mother could. She loved the sweetness of their faces as they did so, and the feeling she received from feeding her babies. And yet, this time, it was different.

Tears forced their way down her cheeks, though she tried to blink them away. "You should be here, Hiccup." She said quietly. Taking Margaret from her breast, she held the small baby to her chest and softly patted her back to help her burp. Typically, this job would have been left for Hiccup. He loved contact with each of his daughters. To not have him there anymore…

"Mommy."

"Mommy."

"Mommy."

All three of her older girls called out in small voices. Since the news of their father's death, barely even three weeks ago, they had started to have night terrors. They would often wake at strange hours of the night, crying and screaming for either their mother or father. Sometimes, they would even come into her room and spend the rest of the night nestled against her side.

She sighed and leaned her head back on the back of the rocking chair, which Hiccup had built when she became pregnant with Ida. That seemed so many years ago from this moment. It was, she supposed. "You should be here, Hiccup. You should be watching your daughters grow up." Resting Margaret in the cradle that they had used since Ida's birth, she started for the girls' room. Standing in the doorway a moment, she leaned heavily on the post.

"They miss you, so much, my love. Sallie hardly even remembers you. Ethel is always crying. Little Ida, she hardly says a word anymore." Stifling a loud sob, she shut her eyes tight and ran a rough hand through her oily hair. "How could you do this? How could you leave me? How could you leave our daughters? You're never going to see them grow up. You're never going to walk them down the aisle on their wedding days. This isn't how it was supposed to be, Hiccup. We were supposed to grow old , together. We were supposed to raise our girls, together. We were supposed to watch our grandchildren, together." Softly punching the wall beside her, she tried to get a grip on her emotions before she entered the room. "You damned southerners. You took my husband, my daughters' father, from me. Damn you. Damn y'all to hell." She hissed with all the venom and hate in her soul and heart.

She managed to calm herself in a few minutes, and walked softly next to her daughters' bed. "You girls ok?" She whispered, kneeling next to them. She brushed a hand over each of their cheeks softly, a comforting sign that she was right there.

Ida opened her eyes, showing all the fear that laced the beautiful, violet orbs. "We all had dreams about daddy. He-he was coming home. But-but he's not, mommy. He's not coming home. He left us!" She wailed miserably.

Astrid immediately sat up on her knees and took the girl into her loving embrace. "No. No. Shh. Shh, sweet girl. Look at me. Ida, look at me, baby." She held her daughter's soft cheeks and wiped her tears back from her eyes. "Daddy did not leave, my darling. He loved you, so, so much. And believe me when I say, he wanted to come home. He tried so very hard to make it back to you and me and your sisters. That is all he wanted. His dying was a cruel, and horrible twist of life. And those southerners are the ones who took him from us. He didn't want to leave, baby." She wrapped Ida in her arms again and kissed her black hair. "He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to leave."

Ida was at school, Ethel and Sallie were playing in the yard, and Margaret was in her cradle, fast asleep. Astrid swept the porch, while watching her two middle daughters. Sweat lined her hairline, and brushed over her brow. The days had seemed longer and harder since Hiccup's death. She found it hard to accept that it had been six months since her sweet husband's death. She still believed that any day, he would come riding down the road, astride his military horse, and in his military uniform, and prove the sargeant wrong.

Oh, how she yearned for that. Feeling her heart break all over again, when she woke up in bed alone, watched her daughters try to have fun without their father, or looked at the four photos sitting on the fireplace, was a horrible curse. She felt tears come to her eyes during each of these moments. Even more so that there wasn't a family photo with Sallie and Hiccup; it was just her and her daughters.

No matter how much time passed, she knew, she would never accept this. She wouldn't accept that any of it was fair. How was it? Her daughters would grow up watching their friends play with their fathers. They would watch their female friends walk down the aisle on the arms of their fathers. They would watch all of that, yet never have it themselves. How, in any way, was that fair?

The young mother often found herself waking at strange hours of the night. Tossing and turning, she was unable to drift back into unconsciousness. When she didn manage to find rest, it was anything but peaceful. Restless, and fitful, were her times of sleep. Her mind was filled with dreams, and memories of the man she had given her heart and soul to. The man that loved her, and showed her with everything he did.

His memory haunted her, now. Crying herlsef to sleep was nothing unknown to her; in fact, she had come to fully expect it when the night drew near. She dreaded sleep, though. The empty spot beside her was just another constant reminder that Hiccup was dead.

There had been a time, long, long ago, where laying in this bed had been her only desire. More, having Hiccup carry her and lay her in this bed. He'd built it as her wedding present, when they got married. It had been their marital bed since the night of their wedding. Now, resting within its sheets without him, all she could think about anymore was every memory this bed held.

This had been where Hiccup would take his love for her to new and wonderful heights. He'd embrace her in his strong arms, and whisper into her neck how much he loved her, and how beautiful she was. For hours on end, he would love her in every way possible, never to let her forget the touch of his lips to her skin, or the brush of his hands across her body.

It was in this bed that he had knelt next to her when she gave birth to their first four children. He'd held her hand through each birth, holding her close and kissing her head. And after each child was placed in one of their arms, he would sit next to her and cry joyfully into her shoulder. And when William had died, he still stayed beside her and they joined together in mourning their son.

And the last few memories…their last day together. Their girls crawled into bed with them, the morning before he left. It was their last moment as a family. The girls had been so giggly, and Hiccup had been the proud father to dote on his daughters as they cuddled with him.

And then that night, the last night they made love. Never before had he held her so urgently, yet lovingly. His kisses to her mournful body were so light, but left the promise of his love for her behind with every touch. His arms held her tightly, telling her he wanted anything but to let her out. All they wanted was for time to stand still, for them to be able to stay like that forever.

There was one thing she was thankful for in all of that; they got one last night together. It hadn't been wasted. Hiccup had wasted no time in showing her every bit of love for her in their last hours of the night. He made sure she would be left with one last, beautiful memory together, before he had to bid her farewell. They had been given that, and she was grateful.

But it didn't make it any easier to watch her daughters try to make some fun out of what Hiccup would have been able to do with ease. That had been one of her absolute favorite things about him. A gifted man, he was; unlike many men of the day, there was nothing he enjoyed more than to spend all the time he could, no matter the game, with his daughters. For hours, he could sit in the family room with them, playing dolls. He could sit in the yard with them and have a tea party with each of their two stuffed animals. He could chase them around the yard and tackle them in kisses and tickle fights. And without a doubt, she knew that his favorite thing was to spend the day playing hide-and-seek with their daughters. He was such a man-child when it came to hide-and-seek.

He could make fun out of anything, which the girls had come to depend upon in the last few years. They left it to him to think up any new, fun game they could play. And when ideas came along, father and daughters could spend hours in the same fun. And while Astrid loved each of those memories, it now broke her heart, because her daughters had been stripped of that fun-loving relationship. They were bright, but they enjoyed having their father think up games. It hurt, so much, to see them suffer like this.

Setting the broom aside with a weary hand, she eased herself into one of the rocking chairs that had rested there since Hiccup had finished building the house. They each had a rocking chair, but a tug ripped at her heart again. All the mornings and afternoons and evenings she and Hiccup had spent on these rocking chairs…lost in the wild country wind.

In the early time of their marriage, she had spent more time on his lap, in his rocking chair, than sitting in her own. They were constantly wrapped up in each other, getting as close as they could. Even after they found out she was pregnant with Ida, she still opted to sit on his lap. It hadn't been until Ida was almost a year old that Astrid finally began to sit in her own chair. The girl became to much for them both to handle, scrunched together.

From there, they had sat close to each other in their chairs, their daughter on either of their laps, hands laced by the fingers, and hot mugs of coffee nestled into their hands. They would watch the sunrise together, welcoming the new day with bright smiles and a sweet kiss. He'd stroke her cheek, and wish for a good day.

After their morning coffee, he would leave for a few hours, and go the few miles to his job at the sawmill. At lunch, she would either ride out to him and have lunch with him, or he would return for a while to eat with her and their young ones. On the days he would come back, they would once agin sit in their rocking chairs and eat homemade sandwiches, while watching their girls play in front of them.

In the evening, he would return home and take off his hat as he climbed the stairs two at a time. he'd snake a welcoming arm around her waist to pull her tight against his chest, and grace her lips with a delightful kiss and a smile that would never fail to make her weak in the knees.

Once again, they would take their place in these chairs, lace their fingers gently through the other's and watch as the sun would sail away into the depths of the ocean sky, and the moon washed up into a starry sea. It was then that they would allow the earlier days of their marriage come back, and she would shift over into his lap. He'd wrap his arms around her, and let her rest on his chest. Fingers running through her hair, he would ease her, and listen as she told him about the day, which he did in return when she finished.

Hell, it had been in this particular embrace that she had told him for the very first time that they had a little one on the way. She'd had her arms laced around his neck, one of his was around her waist, and she watched for his reaction. There was no question, as long as she lived, she would never forget the look that took hold of his features when she told him.

So dumbfounded, he seemed, at first. He looked as though he hadn't her, or had heard incorrectly. But when it dawned on him that he had indeed heard right, a transformation took hold. Slowly, but surely. His mouth was agape, and he couldn't seem to neither blink nor breath. And when he managed to finally do so, he took his gaze down to her stomach. The hand which rested on the arm of his chair came in slowly, cradling her stomach ever so gently. Tears flooded his eyes when he looked back up to her. Never had she seen him so happy. That look would be one to always remember.

Why, she screamed in her mind? Why did everything she saw have to remind her of him? Why did their marital bed have to make her feel more lonely than wholesome? Why did these chairs sift through such memories to remind her? Why did this very land, the land of which he loved, have to smell like her husband? It hurt. It all hurt so much.

But she had no time to think more on it, and break down, because coming down the road was a not-so-friendly looking stranger. He sat straight on the horse he was mounted upon, and even from such a distance, she could clearly see the sour look that held his face. "Girls, come up here!" She called out, standing from her chair and holding her arms out for them. "Go inside, alright?" She told the three of them. Shooing them gently in, she eased her way down the stairs and went to greet the strange man that was dressed in more fancy clothes than she had seen in her near twenty-two years.

"Can I help you, sir?" She said cautiously, when he unmounted his black steed. He had a pointed face, with a big, round nose, and was slim-bodied. He was sickly looking, and his featured, if nothing else, put her on edge.

"I'm looking for Astrid Haddock." He said quick and briskly.

She frowned and clutched the stair-rail with white knuckles. "I'm Astrid Haddock. What is this about?"

He came forward and handed her a folded piece of paper. Saying nothing more, he remounted his horse and started back down the road from which he'd come.

Feeling a strange sense of nervousness at what the contents of the letter could contain, she broke the seal and unfolded the neat slip. A knot formed in her throat as she struggled with the confusing words lined out in front of her. By the time she finished it she was in tears, hand over her mouth, and a sob stuck in her chest.

Her eyes snapped to look through the window, which gave a view inside the family room. Her daughters played on the old, worn carpet. Their corn-shuck dolls were in their hands, as they tried to make a game from them. They were so beautiful, so admirable. But this letter changed everything.

"This is ridiculous!"

"Mrs. Haddock, try to be reasonable."

"No! Do you honestly believe this to be what my husband would want? For our daughters to be ripped from the only home they've ever known, just months after his death! For them to be taken from their own mother! Like hell! Hiccup loved our girls more than anything, and he damn well knew that if anything were to happen to them I could just as well care for them! He would not want them to be taken from me!" Astrid cried angrily as she stood from her seat and slammed her fist down on the table in front of her. "Are you doing this to all the mothers that have lost their husbands? Are you taking their children from them too?"

The jury started to whisper, and the judge looked around frantically. "Mrs. Haddock, please, restrain yourself." He pleaded quietly.

A sudden wail interrupted everyone, and Astrid sniffed. "I have to calm my daughter." She choked. Despite their attempts to get her to stay in her seat, she got out from the witnessing panel and moved to take Margaret from Helen. As she sat, baby close to her chest, Helen moved to be questioned next.

"Mrs. Ingerman, how long have you known Mrs. Haddock?" The lawyer asked.

"My whole life, sir. We've been friends since we were girls. I have to say, I'm disgusted that you are trying to take her daughters from her, when she just lost her husband. She loves those girls with everything she has." Helen told the lawyer. "And I knew Hiccup Haddock, her late husband, as well. I know that what she said is true; he would not want his daughters to be taken from his wife and left in the care of strangers." She said venomously.

The lawyer held up a dismissive hand though. "Mrs. Ingerman, you are only to answer the questions I have laid out for you. Unless I ask for your elaboration, I'll thank you to answer quickly and honestly. Now, in regards to what Mr. Haddock would have wanted, our concern lies solely with the fact that we would be leaving four children in the care of a woman, alone. As you well know, it is not proper to leave children in the permanent care of a woman. How do you respond to that?"

"Mr. Grimborn, while it may not be proper, it is not against the law. And being as the case is one of death and not divorce, I see this trial highly uncalled for. The girls just lost their father, how can you make them leave their mother? She is all they have. And they adore her. Sir, I truly think taking them away would be a mistake. Not because my friend is a woman, but because she knows them better than any stranger ever could. After such a loss, she should be caring for them, just as any mother would."

"But should the fact that Hiccup Haddock was previously fired from his job, because he would not perform his duties, have nothing to offer, in regards to the question of whether the Haddock children are truly safe in the Haddock residence?" The lawyer fired back quickly.

The Berkians of the jury all gasped quietly, creating one wave that echoed through the room.

Astrid snapped her fiery eyes toward the lawyer. "What the fuck? What are you talking about? My husband was not fired from his job!" She cried out. "He was laid off, get your fucking facts straight, dumbass!"

"Mrs. Haddock, if you cannot withhold your use of language, I am going to have to have you removed." The judge told her with a stern glare. "Proceed, Mr. Grimborn." He directed to the lawyer.

Vance Grimborn, gave a nod toward the judge. "Mrs. Ingerman, Mr. Haddock's former employer came forward and provided the forms of Mr. Haddock's withdraw. It says in these papers that on October 15, 1862, he was fired for insubordination. He refused to remove a man, his wife and their child from their home in order to pursue what would have made his company a significant profit. For this, he was fired. Now what kind of a man does that tell you he was?" He smiled slyly, feeling he had the upper hand in the argument; little did he know how wrong he was.

Astrid stood, Margaret close to her chest, and a teary smile on her lips. "It tells me that he was a true family man. He couldn't do to another family what he would never do to our own. He cared. He cared for those people. And he may have lied to me about it, but I understand why he did. But you should know, I am not disappointed in him for what he did. My husband was a good man, Mr. Grimborn. Anyone in this room that knew him could tell you that."

The judge seemed bored with her statement, but behind his eyes she could see the fear lining his forehead. He cleared his throat and hit his gravel on his desk. "The jury will proceed to recess and return with a verdit. Jury, you have one hour to decide whether Mrs. Haddock will continue to raise her daughters, or if the Haddock children will be removed from the home. Dismissed." He said finally, with one last hit of his gravel.

The hour was torturous for Astrid. All she could do was cradle her baby daughter close, and try to offer comforting words to her three older girls. She forced the tears out of her eyes and kept calm for the sake of her daughters.

Helen rested a loving hand on her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. "It's going to be ok, Ast." She told her friend. Astrid could only sob quietly and nod against Ida's shoulder.

An hour later, she stood rigidly in the pew, as waited for the verdict to be handed out. "Please. Please. Show me you still care, Hiccup." She whispered desperately.

A man from the back stood up, folded paper with the verdict in hand, and came to the front panel. Time couldn't pass fast enough, as he unfolded the paper and cleared his throat. "In the case of Astrid Haddock raising her children or handing them to the government for care, we find favor to be in Mrs. Haddock. It is unanimous, that the votes go to Astrid Haddock raising the children her late husband left with her."

She looked up to the ceiling with a teary-eyed smile. "Thank you, Hiccup. Thank you. Thank you."

"Ida, we need to leave, darling!" Astrid called back to her daughter quickly as she lifted Margaret, who was a year old already, out of her cradle and wrapped her in a blanket to shelter her from the cold of winter. "Ida Jenny Haddock!" She called again.

The eight year old came rushing out, her hair in a knotted mess. "Sorry, mama. I can't get my hair in a braid. Daddy always did-" in an instant she covered her mouth, eyes wide. In the last year, she had convinced herself that mentioning her father was a taboo subject.

Astrid smiled sadly and set Margaret on the floor before kneeling in front of her oldest. She rubbed Ida's arms soothingly and brushed her hair back. "It's ok to talk about daddy, sweetheart. You don't have to fear that I'll break down. Your father…he loved each and every one of you. He wouldn't want to see us suffer like this. You can talk about him, my love. I want you to talk about him. Now, let's do your hair." She turned the girl to face away from her, righted her hair, and braided it intricately. "It's not a pretty as daddy's, but you're still our beautiful girl." She said proudly.

Ida leaned in to hug her mother tenderly. "I miss him, mama. I miss daddy so much." She whisepered into her mother's shoulder, trying desperately not to cry.

She kissed Ida's head and stroked her back lovingly. "I know, my love. I know you miss him. I miss him too. We all do. But he's still with us. Everywhere we go, he's right there. He'll always be here, baby. He will always love you. All of you." She said to her daughters, pulling all four of them close.

Margaret cocked her head, the same look of confusion on her face as would appear on Hiccup's. In the year following her birth, Astrid had come to love how much her youngest resembled her father. It broke her heart, in some ways, but there was still a warm feeling that would creep up into her heart.

"Da?" Margaret drawled out slowly.

That was her first word. Astrid's heart lept into her throat, choking her. A sob caught in her throat and she nodded. "That's right, baby. Da. Da-ddy." She sounded for the girl. "You look just like him, sweetie." Grabbing one of the photos with Hiccup in it and showed it to her daughter. "That's him, Maggie. Your daddy. He would have loved you, dear girl." She choked between her tears as she placed a kiss to the head full of wild, auburn locks.

Maggie placed her curled hand right over the image of her father's face in the photos and giggled up at Astrid. "Da! Da!" She squealed eagerly. Holding her arms out, she told Astrid that she wanted to be held. Astrid gladly obliged, placing the toddler in the comfort of her lap.

She looked around at all of her daughters. In some way or another, they each bore a feature that belonged to their father. Ida had his sweet, loving smile. Ethel had his deep, caring, puppy green eyes. Sallie had his adorble, button nose. There was still a bit of him in them, even if no one else could see it, she could.

Reaching to stroke each of their cheeks, she quivered a smile. "Let's go, girls." She finally said, standing from the floor and leading them all out to a previously hitched wagon.

"Mommy, why do you have to work?" Five year old Ethel asked quietly.

She lifted each of the girls into the wagon, after handing Maggie to Ida, and then climbed in beside them. Wrapping an arm around Ethel, she squeezed the girl close to her and brushed her blonde hair softly. "I'm going to get a job, sweetheart." She reminded her. She didn't have the position yet, that of a muleskinner. It was a tough position for a woman, especially a single woman, to obtain, but she desperately needed the money. Muleskinners earned decent pay, and right now she would take anything she could get to help herself and four daughters.

Ethel just nodded and said nothing else. She, like Ida, had become much more reclusive in the past year and a half. It had been harder since Hiccup left. While before he was called for duty, the girls had had an idea of their situation, they knew and understood everything now. They knew they were just barely getting by. It was a burden Astrid hated to bring down on her daughters, however one that she couldn't very well avoid. The war had hit them all, and they had to grow up faster than most girls and boys their age.

She closed her eyes, shutting out the tears that threatened her once again. she had to remind herself, she couldn't cry. She couldn't. Not in front of her girls. They were still to innocent to see her cry like this. Whenever I need you the most, Hiccup…whenever I really need you, she said in her head. Forcing her tears down, she licked her lips and then gripped the reins in her hands. Snapping them against Toothless gently, she clicked her tongue as a sign for him to move.

She collapsed against the wall, taking off her coal-clad hat and ran her dirty, chapped fingers through her knotted and oily hair. "I'm home!" She called to her dautghters. They all came running in to meet her, Maggie waddling excitedly.

Astrid picked the almost two year old up in her arms and nuzzled her lovingly. "How was your day, girls?" She asked them tiredly as they all started back for the kitchen.

"Good." The three oldest answered. Ida pulled out a pitcher of water, and filled a glass before setting it in front of her mother. "Are you ok, mama?" She asked softly.

She smiled assuringly and took tiny sips of her water. "I'm fine, darling. It was just a long day at my jobs. The mine and muleskinning are no easy jobs. Bosses worked all of us to the bone, today." She hissed as she rubbed her hands together. But being as they were red and cracked, with blood seeping out of some of the more severe cracks, raw pain shot up in her arm. "Would you get me the avacado salve?" She asked softly.

Ida immediately raced to do so. Grabbing the avacado salve out of one of the cabinets, she opened the container and dipped her fingers in. "Let me, mama." She mumbled. Taking her mother's boney hand in her own, she gently rubbed the cool mush over the cracks, and massaged it lightly into her skin. "Does that feel better?" She asked.

Astrid nodded and smiled gratefully. "Thank you, baby." And after wipping the avacado from her hands, when it was dried, she pulled the girl into her lap and kissed her cheek. "Your father would be so proud of you, you know that?" She told her.

Ida looked hopeful, but still somewhat doubtful. "He would?" She stuttered. She wasn't so sure as her mother was. She constantly felt as though she wasn't living up to what her father would want from her. It was hard, trying so hard to strive for such perfection, but the drive was just there. She couldn't explain it.

But Astrid couldn't be more sure. She could see the look in her daughter's eyes, and knew she always second guessed herself. It hurt her to see her daughter feel such things about herself; but she was determined to let her see what she saw. What her father had and still would have seen, if were alive.

"Baby, from the second you were born you were perfect to him. He cried when you were placed in his arms. Do you know what the first thing he said to you was? I will never forget it, because those words are burned into my memory like a brand. He said 'no matter the challenges you face in your life, the sadness or grief you feel taking over, or the pain and pressure you undergo, I know you will make it through. You are strong. You are beautiful. You are amazing. You are my daughter. I know you will grow into a strong woman'." She gathered the girl closer to her.

She cried into her mother's shoulder.

"He knew, Ida. He knew you would experience pain in your life. He didn't like he, but he accepted it. and he knew that you would be able to handle whatever came your way. He knew the same about Ethel and Sallie, but you were his oldest. He was so proud of you. If he could see you now, he would still be so proud. You were everything to him. You're everything to me. Never forget that, my love. never forget what a proud father he was, and how much he loved you. You, and your sisters." Her heart soared as she pressed her daughter close to her chest and kissed her black hair.

All she could think about though was how much Hiccup would break at seeing all of this unfold. While he'd been all for her finding a job if she so wished, but neither of them had wanted her to work in the mines, or as a muleskinner. She came home every night with a breaking back, and cracked, raw skin. Hiccup had never gone throught that with his job at the sawmill. For her to go through it…it would break his heart.

As a man, he'd felt that need to provide and protect his family, since the very first day he and Astrid shared in their first kiss. It was his soul instinct. He never would have wanted it to come to this; yet it still had. She had to go to work. She had to find the most back-breaking, tear-drawing job she could to earn more.

Part of her, though disgusted with that part, was glad that Hiccup wasn't around to see it come to this. He would feel like a failure as a husband and as a father for his wife having to take a life-risking job to provide for their girl. He wouldn't have been able to bear it, she knew.

She pushed those thoughts aside though, focusing on the daughter she had brought into the world not even ten years ago. The daughter her husband had impregnated her with nearly ten years ago. The daughter they had loved and cherished, together for the longest time. The daughter she was left alone with to remind of the love her father had held for her.

:::

So first note is: I'M SO SORRY! I'm sorry if I made you cry as much as I did. The feels in this…it made me so emotional that it took me several days to get through it. you know what the worst part is? This chapter won't have near as many feels/crying moments as a chapter that will be coming up real soon. But really, I'm sorry if I made anyone cry. Yet, it was kind of my intention. I'm so cruel XD.

So, second note: muleskinner. It was a western term in the 1800s, and it was someone who loaded and shipped equipment to other places, by wagon or something of the other. And it was actually one of the many jobs that western women could obtain then. It was difficult, but very much possible. Same with gold and coal mining, though most don't believe women were allowed in the minds. This is true, for the most part; but there were places in the west that allowed women more freedom than most. Believe me, I have done so much research to write this. It's a trial, but I'm loving it.

I hope you guys like the chapter. Let me know what you think in the comments. Peace out people!