A/N: What's up? Sorry that I didn't upload earlier today, I was at my grandparents house all day and they don't have a computer.

Anyway, on with the chapter!

At sunrise, Gobber walked to The Haddock Household and gently knocked on the door. He heard slow footsteps walking towards him from inside and eventually the door opened. He saw Stoick on the other side of the doorway and gave him a weak smile.

"Hey old friend, how are you doing?" Gobber asked softly.

Stoick gave him a nod and sighed. "I guess you heard uh?"

"The whole village heard….I'm so sorry Stoick. I wish I knew what to do, but this is something that's going to take a while to heal from." Gobber said as he walked into the house and let Stoick shut the door gently.

"I felt so useless. I couldn't do anything to protect my son. Now he's in this stupid box and I can't…." Stoick stopped before he started to raise his voice. Gobber just let Stoick talk out his feelings of grief. For Stoick, this was his mother's death all over again. He felt like he was back to being 16 and trying to handle the fact that he couldn't do anything. He couldn't face the fact that his first child never got to live outside of the womb.

"How's Valka? Is she still in bed?" Gobber asked.

"Yeah, we had to get rid of her nightgown and our blanket. So if you are planning to visit her, I don't think today is the best day."

"Oh no, I won't bother her. I can only imagine what she must be going through."

"Yeah…but anyway Gobber, I think I just want to be alone at the moment before I head out," Stoick said softly.

"Oh, understandable, I just wanted to see how you were doing." Gobber said as he walked to the door.

"I appreciate you coming by, but I need some time before I can talk to anyone else right now."

"Stoick, I told you I understand. Once you and Valka feel like talking, you can always talk to me. You know where to find me." Gobber said and walked out shutting the door softly behind him. Stoick watched his friend walk out then he looked around the room. He saw the yellow rose that he gave Valka a month ago for their anniversary wilting.

He turned around and went back to his bedroom. He quickly opened the door and found his wife in a different nightgown, with her back facing him, curled up in a ball with her long brown hair flowing behind her. Stoick sat down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder softly. Valka turned her head and Stoick saw her green eyes that used to be filled with life, now red and filled with despair.

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked her, she shook her head slowly and turned her head to face the wall again. Stoick sighed and got back up. "Well, if you need me, I'll be out checking The Village. I'll be back as soon as I can." Stoick didn't get a response from her, and left the house quietly to do his job. He really wished he had time to grieve, but a chief had to run The Village. This time, he decided to not go in the woods like he did before. Maybe being with people would help instead of being alone.

~oOo~

All day Stoick walked around town and observed his people. Many of the people would give him a sympathetic smile and pats on the shoulder. Some of the women and their husbands who lost their children the same way tried to help, but they knew it was going to take time to heal.

While Stoick was in The Village, the women would give Valka some food. Valka had to get out of bed with her nightgown still on and her hair wild and undone to receive the food. Almost all of them said "I'm sorry; I know what you are going through", or "I'm sorry about what happened". Valka would give them a week smile and thank them before she went off to bed.

Then she heard another knock and a familiar voice outside. Valka got out of bed again and walked out of her room to open the door. She saw her mother standing outside with a basket of bread with her. Valka stepped aside to let her mother in and shut the door behind her. Mrs. Jorgenson placed the basket on the dining table with the other baskets of food people had brought.

"How are you holding up, dear?"

"I'm not doing so great." Valka mumbled keeping her arms crossed and kept staring at her large stomach. Valka cursed her large empty womb. It was just a reminder of what should be there. Mrs. Jorgenson saw her daughter looking down and she walked up to her to place her hands on Valka's elbows to get her attention.

"Do you want me to make you something? I'm guessing you haven't eaten anything."

"I'm not hungry, mom."

"I know you don't want to eat, but you have to. Why don't you go to bed and I'll make you some soup, uh?"

Valka kept her head down, but nodded. She knew she couldn't argue with her mother. If she said no, her mom would make food anyway and stuff it down her throat. She felt her mother place a hand on her back as she walked back to her room. While Valka was lying down in bed, her mother was making her soup. It took a while, but she saw her mother walking with a hot steaming bowl in her hands.

Mrs. Jorgenson watched her take a little sip of her soup. Valka put the whole spoon in her mouth then put the bowl on the night stand.

"Thanks mom, I'll finish it later."

Mrs. Jorgenson cocked a brow at her and picked up the bowl. "Valka, I know you're lying. Can you please eat half of the bowl and I'll get out of your hair."

Valka groaned and snatched the bowl away and shoved a spoon full in her mouth. "There, are you happy?" she snapped at her mother.

Mrs. Jorgenson put her hands on her hips and snapped back. "Don't give me that attitude! I don't need to be here, but I am. I know you are grieving, but you don't need to get snappy at me. You're better than that."

"No I'm not!" Valka cried out making her mother's eyes widen. "I'm worthless. I couldn't even keep my child alive! I don't know what I did wrong, or what I could have done different."

"It's not your fault. You know that." Valka felt her mother put her arm around her shoulders. "There are some things that can't be explained. You didn't do anything. These things happen more than you think. I don't know why it happens, but these things do. None of it is your fault, you have to understand that."

Valka hung her head down and kept her eyes shut. She couldn't help the fact that she felt like she was the reason her son was dead. She was the one who was carrying him, no one else. So if it wasn't her fault, then who was it? It had to be her. Then she realized something, if it wasn't her who killed her son, it was the gods.

Maybe Freya was punishing her. Maybe this was her punishment for not consummating the marriage on the wedding night. It had to be, it was the only explanation! This was her punishment for not following tradition, but why did they have to strike her son? Why did he have to die? He did nothing wrong, she should have been struck dead not her son. For the first time in her life, she wished she could die and be with her child.

A/N: I'm really torturing Valka aren't I? Well, there is more where that came from...

Don't forget to review and please no flames :)