Part Two

As usual, the Great Hall was abuzz with the daily activity of Vikings discussing intertribal affairs, plotting Spring fishing routes, eating large amounts of food, or simply milling around with a few friends while enjoying a drink.

"Whoa, it's warm in here," Astrid said as soon Hiccup carried her bridal-style through the enormous doors. "Has it always been this warm in here?" She took a sniff at the ever-present smoky haze and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "And what's that smell?"

"Vikings," Hiccup replied, setting her down on her feet. "You may have heard of them. Big, hulking hairy guys with helmets, very prone to body odor and violence…also yelling. Lots of yelling."

Astrid rolled her eyes again, but didn't say anything and he took that as a sign to keep walking.

"Hey, guys!" someone greeted as they approached a crackling fire pit.

"Hey, Fishlegs."

The bulky blond rider's face dissolved into a frown. "Astrid, are you ok?"

"I'm fine…well, I will be. Kind of feeling a little under the weather today—"

"A little?" came Ruffnut's voice. "Looks like a lot under the weather to me."

She and her brother tromped into the conversation in their typical fashion, each with a hand on their chin as they examined their friend.

"You're right, sis," Tuffnut confirmed. "I've never seen anybody turning that particular shade of green before. Or that rapidly. Ooh, this needs to be documented for science! Get the notebook!"

"Whoooa, hold it." Hiccup caught the two by their collars before they could make it one more step. "Nobody's documenting anything. It's probably some kind of flu—"

Fishlegs blanched. "Is it catching?

"Hope so," said Ruffnut, exchanging a snicker and fist bump with her other half.

"I can't get sick now!" Fihslegs spluttered, grabbing his hair. "I have to clean between Meatlug's toes this weekend!"

"Either this is seriously the most disgusting conversation in history, or I came in at the wrong time." Snotlout shoved his way between the twins, coming to a stop with his arms folded.

"It's a long and delicate process, ok? I need my strength."

"No, it's messed up, that's what it is—whoa." Snotlout's eyes widened at the sight of a disheveled Astrid. "What happened to you? You look like you poked a sea shocker."

"Or shocked a sea poker," the twins laughed together, sharing a high five.

"On second thought, maybe coming here wasn't such a great idea…" Astrid mumbled, holding her stomach and sinking onto the nearest bench. "Snotlout, if you don't shut up right now, I'm going to destroy every dream you've ever had of becoming the next Archipelago arm wrestling champion. And I'll enjoy it."

"Ha, who yakked in your nog this morning?"

Astrid lurched and Hiccup intervened before anybody else could make a comment.

"Alright, guys, back off a bit, give her some room—"

"Well, good mornin' to the happy couple!"

Oh no. Gobber. On most occasions, the group didn't mind the presence of the beat-up old blacksmith. In fact, they welcomed it. Today, however, he brought with him a feeling (or maybe it was a smell) of impending doom.

"Though' ye'd like to try a little somethin' I've been cookin' up," he said, flashing his gap-toothed grin. In his remaining hand, he held a large, steaming, bowl of something that looked like the insides of a goat and smelled even worse.

"No, we're good, thanks," Hiccup said quickly, trying to push the large man back where he'd come from. "Yep, we're fine. Nobody's hungry right now."

"Ye sure? It's a mackerel-mushroom-mutton casserole."

"Agh, no, Gobber!"

Gobber easily sidestepped him and offered the bowl to Astrid. "Give'er a whiff, lass, and tell me what ya think."

Astrid's eyes watered and her face drained of all color, making it painfully obvious that she was engaged in an uphill fight with her stomach which was no use whatsoever. With a horrible heave, she lost the battle…all over the stone floor.

"UGGGH!" the group gasped collectively.

"Y'know, all in all, I think the casserole might actually have been worse…"

"That was awesome! Do it again!"

Gobber blinked. "Take tha' as a big 'no', then."

"Ok…" Astrid choked out, raising her head, "let's go see Gothi."

"Good plan," said Hiccup. Pulling an arm over his shoulder, he lifted his wife to her feet and walked her toward doors. "Nothing personal, Gobber!"

….

Out on the landing of Gothi's rickety perch, the tiny old woman examined Astrid from head to toe as Hiccup looked on anxiously. Fishlegs, one of only several people on Berk who could interpret the elder's runic scribbles, had reluctantly obliged to come along but insisted on standing several feet away from the other three.

Gothi was being more thorough than usual, which was all the more worrisome.

"Will she be alright?" the chief asked for about the fifth time. "Do you know what's wrong?"

Without looking away from her patient, the healer held up a hand.

"She says to be quiet," said Fishlegs.

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "Yes, um…thank you for clarifying."

Gothi felt Astrid's forehead, pulled out her tongue and peered into her mouth, took her pulse, poked around her stomach a bit and finally laid an ear to her back to listen to her heartbeat. Strangely, Astrid sat through the ordeal without protest.

There was a tense pause as the elder sat up and narrowed one eye, causing Hiccup to fidget on the Gothi-sized stool he was currently occupying, knees up under his chin. It wasn't the most comfortable or dignified of positions, but there were more concerning things on his mind than his image.

"Hm," Gothi grunted, and began scratching at the dirt on the floorboards with the end of her staff.

Hiccup couldn't help himself. "What's she saying, Fishlegs? Is it bad?"

The elder threw him an annoyed glance, then proceeded to scratch a quick side note. Fishlegs leaned in to get a better look.

"She says, 'with all due respect to the chief, please shut up'."

Hiccup groaned, letting his head drop onto his knees. "Sorry, sorry, go on."

The grating of wood against dirt went on for a disconcerting amount of time before being punctuated with a hard tap. It was only then that Hiccup dared look up again.

"She says…" Fishlegs squinted, processing the runes carefully, "she says that Astrid's…pungent? Wait, that can't be—OW!" He yelped in surprise at the sharp whack to the head from the healer's staff. She rarely missed. "Sorry! Sorry, I mean she says that Astrid's pregnant."

"Ohhh, ok." Hiccup relaxed, laughing a little in relief. "Whew! Glad that's all it—WHAAAT?!"

The chief jumped straight up, banging his head on a beam jutting out from Gothi's roof. While he was busy holding the smarting bump and cursing in pain, Astrid stood as well, a little slower, eyes wide.

"I'm…w-what?" she blurted hoarsely.

The wrinkly old woman shrugged and smiled warmly as Hiccup, eyes still watering, embraced his stunned wife and squeezed her tight.

"We're pregnant?! We're pregnant! We're pregnant!" He planted a gigantic, sloppy kiss on her lips and held her out at arm's length, grinning from ear to ear. "D'you know what this means? We're gonna have a family! I'm gonna be a dad!"

Astrid forced a nervous laugh as the overly excited chief let go of her shoulders and hopped around, pumping a fist in the air and whooping for the entire Archipelago to hear.

"WHOOHOOO! Best day ever!"

He danced over to Fishlegs, who had retreated to a corner looking slightly awkward, and threw his arms as far as they would go around him just because he was there.

"I'm gonna have a baby, Fishlegs! Well, I guess technically Astrid's gonna have the baby…but still, I'm gonna be a daaaaaad!"

And that was when Astrid exploded into tears.