March 4, 1002 CE – Berk
The wind whispered through the cliffs of Berk, brushing past rooftops and the watchtower like the wings of something long departed. Hiccup, 26, stood at the edge of the overlook, where the sea stretched endlessly to the horizon. The morning air was crisp with the bite of lingering winter, but sunlight danced gently over the waves, hinting at spring's slow approach.
He held a carved figure in his hand—Toothless, mid-flight, wings wide and proud. The wood was dark, the edges smooth from hours of shaping. Hiccup's fingers traced the curves absentmindedly, a quiet smile playing at his lips as memories stirred.
There were still mornings when he woke expecting to hear claws on stone, the low chuff of breath, or the playful thump of a tail against the roof. But Toothless was far away now—where dragons could live safely, without fear. And Hiccup? He had chosen to stay—for his people, for his home… and for her.
He turned back toward the house. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney, and the scent of warm bread wafted into the cold air. He stepped inside.
Astrid, 26, stood at the hearth, hands dusted with flour, her golden hair tied in a loose braid. She looked up when he entered, blue eyes sparkling.
"There you are, Chief," she teased. "I was beginning to think the sea had claimed you."
"Just reminiscing," he said, slipping the carving into his pocket. He approached and kissed her temple. "About old times."
Astrid tilted her head slightly, studying him. "Toothless?"
"Always."
She smiled softly and turned back to the dough. Then, as if on impulse, she wiped her hands on a cloth, took a breath, and reached for his arm.
"Hiccup," she began, voice quieter now, "I need to tell you something."
He froze slightly, sensing the weight in her tone. "What is it M'lady?"
"I'm… I'm pregnant."
The words hung in the air for a moment, like a snowflake suspended before the fall. Hiccup blinked, once, then again. His mouth opened—then closed—and finally a laugh escaped him. Not out of humor, but awe.
"Are you sure?"
Astrid nodded, her eyes filling with both nerves and joy. "I saw Gothi a few days ago. I didn't want to say anything until I was certain. I'm about four weeks along."
Hiccup pulled her close, his hands gentle at her waist. "We're going to have a baby," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "We're really doing this."
She leaned her forehead against his chest, her voice muffled. "I know it's a big change. Especially with everything—without the dragons. But I feel ready. Do you?"
He held her a little tighter. "With you? Always."
Outside, the wind shifted slightly. A flock of birds wheeled through the sky, their calls echoing like distant laughter. Life was changing again—but this time, in the most beautiful way possible.
Later that afternoon, the Haddocks gathered in the longhouse with a few close friends. The hearth crackled warmly, casting flickers of gold across the wooden walls. Gobber sat at the table, halfway through sharpening a blade—with his wrong hand, as usual—while Fishlegs fussed over a scroll depicting ancient Norse childcare traditions.
Valka stood near the fire, drying her hands after preparing tea, her eyes always observant.
"So," Hiccup began, clearing his throat and glancing briefly at Astrid, who gave him an encouraging nod, "we've got… some news."
Gobber raised an eyebrow. "You're not leaving Berk, are you? Because if you are, you'd best be takin' that annoying council with you."
Hiccup laughed. "No, nothing like that."
Astrid reached out and took Hiccup's hand, gently lacing her fingers with his.
"We're having a baby," she said, simply.
Silence fell. Then—
"By Thor's hammer!" Gobber blurted, dropping the blade with a loud clang. "About time! I was beginning to think Hiccup's bits had frozen off in one of those dragon flights!"
Fishlegs gasped and then grinned ear to ear. "That's incredible! Oh, wow—do you know if it's a boy or girl? What if it has your chin? Or Astrid's arm strength?"
Astrid chuckled. "Let's get through the next few months first."
Valka stepped forward slowly, her face serene, but eyes full of emotion. She placed a hand on Hiccup's shoulder and then on Astrid's.
"You'll both be wonderful parents," she said softly. "And this child… will have the heart of a dragon, even if it never sees one."
The fire popped as if in agreement, filling the room with a comforting warmth. Outside, snowflakes had begun to fall lightly—silent, delicate, and full of promise.
Hiccup looked around the room, at the people who had been with him through loss, war, and wonder. And now, they would be there for this too—this gentle beginning.
Yes, he thought. This… is where the next adventure starts.