Leaving Hiccup's loft, Valka felt surprisingly calm. Telling her son a bedtime story gave her a sense of fulfillment, and watching him fall asleep turned out to be a relaxing experience. All in all, she managed to end this day, which started off so horribly, on a positive note. It was an uplifting thought.
Downstairs, Stoick seemed to be finishing the figurine he was carving, which now closely resembled Thornado. Having noticed his wife, he smiled at her warmly, put his figurine and knife on the table, and spread his arms, beckoning her closer. It was with great pleasure that she accepted the invitation, sat on his lap and rested her head against his neck. He embraced her and affectionately stroked her back.
It felt so good, having his arms around her.
"How's Hiccup?" asked Stoick.
"Asleep," said Valka. "I told him a bedtime story."
"Really? That's nice."
"Yeah."
A moment passed before the chief spoke up again.
"So. You don't want another child, do you?"
"No," confirmed his wife. "I'm too old. And I can't afford to be grounded for nine months with war preparations going on."
"I agree. This simply isn't the time."
He said it with perfect calmness, and no hint of regret, but she still felt like an apology was in order.
"I'm sorry, Stoick."
"Don't be. You're not a breeding mare. And Hiccup is as good as a dozen sons."
He actually got a hint of smile from her with that. "That he is," she agreed. Thereupon she lifted her head and caressed her husband's face. "You raised him well," she remarked, feeling grateful and affectionate.
He grinned in response. "Well, it was no easy task. But I was never one to turn down a challenge," he stated, running a finger across her jaw, stopping under her jaws, a challenge of his own evident in his eyes.
Valka took Stoick's hand and directed it to her face. She rubbed her cheek against the inside of his palm, savoring the feeling. Stoick moved his thumb to caress her lower lip, a gesture she found highly stimulating. She moved his hand to her mouth, tracing it with her lips. Every finger, every knuckle and fingertip deserved her loving attention. And so she proceeded to apply gentle kisses, accompanied by Stoick's satisfied purrs.
By all gods, she loved those hands. So big and so warm. Capable of curing her from all worries. Always knowing where to press and where to rub.
Tonight, however, it was her soul that needed to be touched.
She directed her eyes to her husband's face. He looked pleased. Welcoming. Encouraging.
That look was all the invitation she needed.
AN:
Now, to those of you wondering – yes, there is a continuation to this. And by continuation I mean explicit sexual content. I don't want to have it in the actual story, so not to up the rating, but I have posted it on AO3 as a separate piece :-). I may also post it here, also as a separate piece, maybe, probably ^_^.