Disclaimer: I don't own How To Train Your Dragon or any of the associated characters or settings.

AN: This chapter completely fails the Bechdel Test. Oh well.

She was twenty-one and he was twenty-two. Hiccup was drunk. It was his birthday and Astrid was doing her level best not to tear his head from his body, but Hiccup was undoubtedly drunk. It wasn't even that she hadn't expected this of him. Well, yes, actually. Maybe that was exactly it. Hiccup didn't get drunk. Hiccup wasn't Snotlout or Gobber or Tuffnut. Hiccup didn't end his day with a pint of mead and a crude conversation in the Great Hall. Hiccup ended his day with a drawn out diatribe about his latest perceived failure or success. Hiccup ended his day impersonating someone. Hiccup ended his day embracing Astrid. Hiccup did not end his day drunk.

But, it was his birthday and Astrid was doing her level best not to rip his head from his body.

She probably wouldn't have been so angry if she had at least known that he was off to drink. Last she'd seen him, he was taking off on Toothless to work on his map. That had been hours ago. Astrid had expected him back by dinner. She'd been counting on it. He knew she was no cook. He knew being served food that she'd cooked was a rarity. She'd wanted to surprise him. She'd taken a goose from the stores. Gobber had let her because, really, no one argues with the Chief's wife on the Chief's birthday. She'd butchered it, plucked it, seasoned it and roasted it, slowly and to perfection.

He should have been home by the time it was perfect. She'd worried when he wasn't home by the time the skin had crisped. She'd set the goose aside, piled on her furs and jumped onto Stormfly in the hopes of finding him. No one had seen him. No one knew where he was. Astrid had stopped at the Great Hall in order to find their friends, to organize a search party, but what she'd found instead was Hiccup, surrounded by said friends. Laughing with Eret, wearing the helmet his father had given him, casual in his yak fur vest. Snotlout was loudly telling him some story and Hiccup was watching him with rapt attention and a half-smile.

It was the half-smile that made her leave. The tranquil grin and the ease in his shoulders told her that he was finally letting go of all the worries that clouded his head, relaxing into himself. If Hiccup wanted to have a drink with friends, a laugh with friends, then far be it from her to interrupt that.

But then there was the goose. It would keep, but not forever.

When Astrid was putting Stormfly back in her pen, she noticed that there were lights on in Valka's home. Valka was close to them, living in a home Hiccup had constructed for her prior to their marriage. He wanted his mother close – the mother he'd not had the luxury of knowing in his youth – and she wouldn't tolerate living in such close quarters with them, so the house had been built. Astrid could hardly fault him that, especially after losing Stoick the way he had. Hiccup had few joys in life – Valka was one of them.

But Valka was unexpectedly one of the joys in Astrid's own life. A mother that she herself had been missing. Astrid trudged through the snow covered hills until she was at Valka's door. Hesitantly, she knocked. Valka cracked the door open timidly before throwing it wide at the sight of Astrid. Valka's arms were around her in seconds. Astrid had never been given that kind of physical affection by her parents. Astrid hadn't been hugged and kissed and coddled. Secretly, she loved it. Valka was even more openly affectionate than her son. Astrid smiled into Valka's shoulder.

"Astrid! To what do I owe this visit?" Valka asked, a wide smile on her open face.

Astrid didn't miss the way Valka barely glanced past Astrid's shoulder in search of Hiccup. It didn't bother her. Valka had been denied Hiccup for so long, she was always making up for it with every second they spent together and yet she was careful not to encroach on Astrid's and Hiccup's space.

"I…um…I cooked a goose for Hiccup, but it looks as though he's eating in the Great Hall. You wouldn't…I mean, have you eaten?"

Valka grinned. "Not as such, my dear. Not as such. Let me get my furs."

There was a comfortable silence between the two women as they walked back to Hiccup's and Astrid's home. Astrid rarely knew such comfort except when with the Haddocks. Valka turned her face to the black sky and took in the pinpricks of light that dotted it.

"Twenty-two years," she sighed, "He was a difficult birth, Hiccup."

A grin stretched across Astrid's face when she thought of Hiccup as a baby. She looked at Valka who smiled at her.

"He's a difficult adult," Astrid joked delicately.

Valka laughed that warm belly laugh of hers. "As was his father. Hiccup has more of Stoick in him than he realizes. He thinks he's so different from his father, but he's cut from the same cloth."

Astrid smirked. She knew exactly what Valka was talking about – the stubborn set in his jaw; the way he risked life and limb for his tribe, regardless of the likelihood of success; the way he didn't listen to reason. Hiccup did have Stoick in him. But Astrid could see Valka there, too. The willingness to push limits, the capacity for deep love, the expressiveness in his entire being.

"You're in there, too," Astrid said softly.

Valka smiled and put her hand on Astrid's forearm.

"He's lucky to have you," she said.

"I'm lucky to have him," Astrid said, smiling.

Astrid welcomed Valka into her home and set her down at the table while she prepared their food. Valka was never one for sitting, though, and she poked around in their belongings.

"He's been busy, I see," Valka said picking up one of Hiccup's many inventions.

That one had been an attempt to stabilize his flight suit – a set of smaller fins for his wrists and forearms to help him control directional changes that had been modelled after the ridges on Toothless' back. They had failed spectacularly and Hiccup had come home littered in bruises and scratches.

"He's always busy," Astrid said, almost absently.

He was always busy – busy with the tribe, busy with smithing, busy with Toothless. Being the wife of the Chief was busy, too. Busier than she had thought it would be. She turned to put the goose on the table and found Valka watching her with a wistful smile. Valka took a seat at the table, her eyes still on Astrid.

"He's always going to be busy, Astrid," Valka said, "That's the plight of a Chief's wife."

Astrid sighed and dropped into her seat. "I know. I know he's only doing what he needs to do. It's just…"

"Lonely?"

Astrid looked up and smiled slightly. "That's a bit pathetic, isn't it?"

"Not at all," Valka said, grinning as she bit into the goose. She moaned as she chewed, eyes closed in ecstasy. "He doesn't know what he's missing, that boy."

"It's alright?"

"Alright? Girl, it's perfect!"

Astrid flushed from the praise of her mother-in-law. She felt very warm and happy sitting here with her. She felt like she could talk to Valka about anything and that it would be fine. Welcome, even. Astrid toyed with her food while Valka ate, happily vocal about every bite. It made Astrid laugh, the way Valka enjoyed everything.

Valka looked up eventually and noticed that Astrid hadn't eaten much from her plate. She frowned at her and all Astrid could see was Hiccup's expressive grimace in her face.

"Not hungry?" Valka asked carefully.

Astrid swallowed. She hadn't told anyone. Not even Hiccup. She sighed and shrugged.

"I haven't been feeling well lately," she said with a vague wave of her hand.

Astrid pushed her chair away from the table and gathered up their plates to carry to the kitchen. Wordlessly, Valka rose and carried the rest of the goose over as well. Astrid could feel those wide pale eyes on her, watching her every move. She didn't ask Astrid anything though, just silently assisted her in the kitchen. It was seamless, the way they worked together. Like two cogs in the same machine. Hiccup would like that analogy. He'd say that she'd finally been listening to him.

Hiccup. Astrid hoped he wasn't too drunk. He was small and Snotlout and Eret weren't. And Hiccup never drank. He spent their entire honey month tottering around with a sideways grin. Not that Astrid had minded. It had made it easier on her to pull him back to bed.

"He's fine, you know," Valka said as though reading her mind.

Astrid jumped at the sound of her voice. They'd been so complementary that she'd almost forgotten that Valka was still there.

"I know. He just…he never drinks."

Valka laughed. "He's Stoick's boy. He'll be fine."

"He's your boy, too," Astrid smirked.

"Then he'll be doubly fine."

Astrid felt Valka's eyes on her again and turned her face to her.

"So, how long then?" Valka asked.

"What? I—"

"You're not out there drinking with him on his birthday."

"The goose—"

"Nonsense. How long?"

Astrid lowered herself back into a chair at the table. "Almost two months," she sighed resignedly.

Valka beamed and clapped her hands together. "Does Hiccup know?"

Astrid smiled almost sadly and shook her head. "I was going to tell him tonight."

Valka's brow furrowed as she sat sideways in a chair next to Astrid, their knees almost touching. "Why did you wait so long?"

Astrid's melancholy smile fell. She didn't want to think back to that time, to the cave in that winter storm, to the pain in Hiccup's eyes.

"I…lost one last year," she said haltingly.

Valka reached a warm hand out and rubbed Astrid's knee, catching her full attention. Valka's smile was warmth and sadness and remembrance all at once. She ran her hand, wind-burnt and calloused, down the length of Astrid's cheek and then drew it back into her lap. She looked past Astrid, her eyes lost in memory.

"I lost many before Hiccup. I thought I'd lose him, too," she said, her quiet voice in loud contrast to the crackling fire in the hearth. Her eyes met Astrid's again and that small, sad grin returned. "I suppose I did lose him after all."

Astrid shook her head automatically. "No. He loves you."

Valka's smile deepened. "My, you're sweet, Astrid. It's no wonder he loves you."

Astrid opened her mouth to protest and Valka held up a hand to silence her.

"If you need anything, you come to me – do you understand? Even if it's a shoulder to cry on."

Astrid nodded. "Thank you."

"You'll tell him?" Valka asked.

"Tonight, if he's sober enough."

Valka laughed her rolling belly laugh and patted Astrid on the knee. "Aye—"

She didn't get to finish because the door burst open with a burst of snow and frigid air.

"Astrid! Woman! I require serv—"

Hiccup froze, whatever he was going to say dead on his tongue as he noticed his mother sitting at the table with Astrid. His mouth hung open comically, his hat askew, metal foot raised mid step.

"Now, Hiccup. Is that any way to address your wife?" Valka said sternly, rising to her feet.

Astrid twisted around, a wicked grin on her lips. He only called Astrid "woman" in mock seriousness when he was planning on dragging her off to bed. She was relishing him being caught in the act.

"Mom. Mom, hi, Mom. What are you doing here?"

Astrid stood up then, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes at him. "Helping me eat your birthday dinner."

"My birthday—"he repeated numbly, turning his eyes to the goose in the kitchen. "Oh no. I'm sorry, Astrid, I—"

"Decided to get drunk?" she said, amused that she was able to hold up her angry tone long enough to make him squirm.

His shoulders slumped and she instantly regretted teasing him. She smiled at his dismal expression.

"There's plenty left," she said flippantly, moving into the kitchen to prepare him a plate.

"I think I'll head home then. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Astrid. Remember what we talked about," Valka said, embracing Astrid in one of her encompassing hugs. Valka turned to Hiccup and looked him up and down, shaking her head.

"I'll walk you home," he offered.

"You can barely walk," Astrid quipped from the kitchen.

"I can walk just fine, I'll have you know," he replied.

"Better than you can fly."

"Oh. Oh, ho. I can out-fly—"

"Yeah, yeah. Walk your mom home first. Then we'll see who's flying where," Astrid said, grinning fondly.

Valka looked from Astrid to Hiccup and grinned. Hiccup offered his mother his arm.

"Right this way, milady," he said, gesturing grandly to the door.

Astrid rolled her eyes as she watched them go. She wiped her hands on her skirt nervously and waited patiently for his return. It wasn't something she was used to doing – waiting or being patient. But Valka was right, he needed to know.

It wasn't long before he kicked open the door with flourish. He opened his mouth and then paused, looking around the great room nervously.

"You don't have anyone else hiding in here, do you?"

Astrid snorted. "Just me, lover."

Just me and the hitchhiker in my belly, she thought to herself.

Hiccup grinned and kicked the door shut behind him.

"Then in that case: Woman! I require servicing!"

Astrid cocked an eyebrow at him. "That wasn't going to work the first time and it's not going to work now," she said, moving into the kitchen to retrieve the plate she'd prepared for him.

"Food?" she asked.

"Food is a form of service," he conceded, plopping down gracelessly into a chair.

"Hiccup is a form of idiot."

"Hey! It's my birthday!"

"Last time I checked being born didn't give you licence to be an idiot." She didn't sound as cross as her words would have suggested and Hiccup grinned at her.

"You married this idiot."

Astrid sighed. "Best of a sad crop," she jibed.

"This goose is amazing," Hiccup said, mouth full.

"You should have tasted it when it was hot."

Hiccup winced and looked up at her, still chewing away. "Sorry."

She couldn't manage to maintain an angry expression for long enough to seem serious. "It's okay. Your mom and I talked."

Hiccup glanced at her. "About?"

Astrid shrugged. "Life."

They were silent for a moment – Hiccup ravenously devouring his goose and Astrid thinking of the best way to tell him. She thought that it might be best if she just told him. It was always better when she just said what was on her mind. Yes, that would definitely be the best approach.

"I'm pregnant."

Hiccup coughed and sputtered, choking on the mouthful of food he had. Astrid jumped up and whacked him on the back. He grabbed his cup of water and swallowed it noisily, still coughing. His eyes locked onto hers, questioning and incredulous.

"I guess I could have timed that better," she said.

Hiccup widened his eyes in agreement and swallowed more water. "Unless you were trying to kill off its father—"

He froze again, comically, as he had coming through the front door. It was the word father, Astrid realized. More specifically the application of it to himself. She watched him carefully, her heart pounding hard in her chest.

"Are you…happy?" she asked, her voice small.

Hiccup looked up over his shoulder at her and for a moment she saw the boy she'd fallen in love with in those big green eyes. Smart and stubborn and understatedly fierce. But also afraid and undeniably brave. The smile that stretched lopsidedly across his face told her everything she needed to know before he even spoke. He stood up clumsily – a combination of mead and an innate lack of grace – and wrapped his arms around her.

"Of course I'm happy," he laughed into her hair.

Astrid clung to him, tears biting at the corners of her eyes. Was she crying? But she was laughing, too. Hiccup pulled back, laughing and beaming. He kissed her, hard and sloppy and wonderful. Astrid tangled her fingers in his hair and let herself get pulled away into his kisses, his gentle touches, his smiles.

Later, tangled up in their bed linens, sated and warm, Astrid sighed, "It's your birthday. How come I feel like I got all the gifts?"

"Are you kidding me?" Hiccup mumbled happily into her shoulder, "This was the best birthday ever."