Chapter Two
Best it is for man's words to seek peace when it is possible - Norse Proverb

*** Pink rays of first light crept through the panes of glass; gronkle vomit, as Hiccup liked to remind all the Berkians who fashioned their windows with this clear substance. Of course, he thought, with a slight smile, drawing and shading over the parchment with his charcoal, he was the one who refined the vomit and gleefully fitted each window in Berk. Interestingly enough, it seemed as though two panes, with a bit of air between them, helped the homes stay warmer in the winters.

Hiccup laid his charcoal down on the table as he remembered Tuffnut helping him with one of his first installations, right before little Stoick was born. Somehow, Snotlout was hit in the face with a hammer and the whole house fell down. Out of courtesy, Hiccup and Astrid had to put up that family for the week it took to rebuild their home--the home being finished just hours before Astrid going into labor. At least Tuffnut didn't break the window, Hiccup thought, pursing his lips and nodding as he picked up the charcoal in his left hand and resumed his eleventh sketch of Astrid.

The pitter patter up in the loft removed his attention from his present task, then a crash. His gaze fell on the ledge of the loft that overlooked the sitting area. A little tail, violet and scaly, hung over the ledge until a small white hand carefully grabbed the tail and pulled it up, out of sight.

When did Stoick get Stormwing out of the barn?

Hiccup massaged his temples with his right hand and sighed--Astrid was not going to be happy that Stoick brought his baby nadder into the house again.

Another crash , followed by a harsh whisper, came from upstairs, "Stormwing, be quiet!"

Hiccup fidgeted with his charcoal and said nothing.

"No! Not my clothes!"

Maybe Astrid didn't need to know.

Placing a piece of blank parchment before him, Hiccup began to sketch the baby nadder. Stormwing, the latest of Stormfly's progeny, was the only one out of the brood that Hiccup and Astrid kept. Originally, they hadn't planned on keeping any of the hatchlings, but Stoick was very persuasive and insistent on keeping the dragon. It also didn't hurt that Stormwing came home to Stoick no matter where they sent him. Ever since Hiccup and Astrid agreed to keep the baby nadder, the two were inseparable...to Astrid's dismay.

Hiccup cringed as he heard the loudest crash yet. It appeared that the 'no dragons in the house' rule wasn't holding up so well.

He paused, holding his right index finger up in the air--waiting. Half a minute passed, and silence. Miraculously, neither mother nor daughter had awoken. With a satisfied nod, Hiccup returned to his drawings.

After half an hour, with no further ruckus from Stoick and Stormwing, the day had arrived and the morning light was now casting the seating area in a golden glow. Hiccup neatly stacked the drawings on the table and had since been out to one of the henhouses, returning with enough eggs to feed the whole Haddock clan. He was up before Astrid and it was the perfect opportunity to be 'helpful' and cook breakfast, therefore avoiding her cooking for at least one meal.

Though not a strong cook, Astrid always tried her best, and her food was, he paused for the right word while stirring in a wooden bowl--survivable. However, her breakfasts were her worst meals and sometimes rivaled her infamous yaknog that was brought out every Snoggletog. Just like her yaknog, she dared people to dislike her breakfasts and it never happened. Hiccup shuddered, remembering the first time that foul, fermented, festering substance...oh, and it was right in his mouth, too. Hiccup repressed the memory, closing his eyes. He wasn't known for being a fussy eater. For Thor's sake, there was a time when he ate and swallowed a regurgitated fish when he was just getting to know Toothless, when they were bonding, but that yaknog? He dared not ever swallow it for fear of the agonizing death, or, more plausible, painful day in the outhouse that would await him. Nope, breakfast would be his victory today.

Standing at the fire pit, Hiccup held the skillet over a customized grill that he built and mounted to rest over the open flame. The melted butter and chopped onions sizzled, as the onions browned ever so slightly with a lovely and novel aroma. Hiccup was always curious about the science of cooking and often experimented with food when it was abundant. Today, he beat the eggs in a bowl and added just enough yak's milk to change the consistency. Like a giddy child, he was excited to see what would happen next. Hiccup poured the mixture into the hot skillet, smiling as the eggs and milk did exactly as he predicted. When the combination began to thicken, Hiccup took the wooden spoon he began with and used it to scramble the concoction. He made note to fashion a more square-like, scraping utensil in the future, to get underneath the eggs, as he carried on and sprinkled bits of cheese into the skillet.

Losing himself in the act of cooking, Hiccup hadn't noticed that Astrid had come out of the bedchamber until she embraced him from behind and rested her head against his shoulders.

"Milady," Hiccup crooned, smirking as he fussed over the eggs.

"Thank you for making the house warm again," Astrid said finally, her tone grateful and her words soft. "I had a little bit of sleep and I'm so happy."

"Excellent," Hiccup rejoiced, a full smile forming.

"You didn't need to cook breakfast," Astrid added, squeezing him tighter, "I could've done that."

"No trouble at all," he lied, turning and kissing her on the lips.

When they parted, her eyes shone with the love she felt for him.

"Why didn't you come back to bed?" she asked him, resting her head on his chest.

"I was attacked by a night fury and couldn't sleep anyway," Hiccup jested as his reply.

"A dragon too mighty for the conqueror of dragons?" Astrid asked with a giggle as she broke away and took her seat at the table, collecting two wooden plates along the way.

"Indeed," replied Hiccup, setting the skillet down at the middle of the table and taking a seat across from her. Hiccup then flared his hands out flamboyantly. "He had the element of surprise and I fell into his nefarious trap."

He closed his hands into fists.

"Oh," Astrid teased, in mock consolation, as she scooped a helping of the eggs onto a plate and handed it to Hiccup. "And what kind of trap did my mighty husband fall prey to?"

"A saddle," said Hiccup, matter of fact, as he took the first bite of what he would call scrambled eggs.

"A saddle," Astrid repeated, stifling a laugh.

She took a bite of the scrambled eggs and cooed happily. "Thor Almighty, this is so good."

They both ate and savored their meal in the rare silence they had, leaving enough for Stoick to eat later. Hiccup always had an inkling that Astrid wasn't too fond of her cooking either. Yet, stubborn like no other, Astrid always strove to be the best warrior, best dragon rider, best mother, and best wife--her domestic duties were as serious to her as dragon maneuvers or combat training.

"What are you going to call this one?" she asked, feigning interest and breaking the silence as she leafed through his pile of drawings.

"I'm going to call it scramb--"

"Oh, it's Stormwing. He's growing so fast," Astrid thought aloud, interrupting him, while smiling at the picture of the dragon, but she then became more somber as she gazed at her own likenesses--perusing all eleven of them. "Hiccup."

Unsure of her change in countenance, Hiccup nervously scratched at his neatly groomed beard. "Yes?"

"Are these the right proportions?" Astrid asked, intensely fixing her gaze on him, searching his face for the answer.

"I don't--" he picked up and rolled his charcoal pencil between his thumbs and index fingers as he held it out in front of him, averting her gaze. "Why? Why are you asking?"

Hiccup couldn't hide the flush when he realized, in hindsight, that some of the drawings, the ones without Ingrid in them, were perhaps risqué and meant to be thrown away, or hidden.

"Is this really what I look like?" Astrid rephrased, laying the parchments on the table and sharpening her tone. "Or are you being," she paused, gaze moving toward the more racy sketches, "creative."

The pencil snapped and his eyes were wide. Thor help him, those were her proportions.

Astrid fumed, glaring at him. "Really, Hiccup?"

"Well--well," he hesitated as he tossed the broken pencil halves aside, "there's nothing wrong with the way you look, and I really don't mind it. No, well, I mean--I like it. I, uh," he blushed, looking down at the table, "really do like it."

"I can tell," scoffed Astrid, holding up the more enticing rendition of her and her slightly larger hips and breasts since her recent childbirth.

"Oh, gods," Hiccup murmured, "this is actually happening."

"I am a warrior, Hiccup," Astrid hissed, her body rigid as she seemed poised to lunge over the table at him.

"Yes," agreed Hiccup, his head nodding and his hands raised, "you are very aggressive and--"

"I am Astrid 'The Fearless' Haddock," she continued, words pushing through her teeth.

"Yes, fearless," he stammered, "so not like me right now."

"And I don't appreciate my husband thinking that I've gone soft."

"I, uh, don't think that's really the case," Hiccup chuckled, nervously, scratching the back of his head, "you definitely didn't go soft."

He shook his head. "Nope, not soft."

"Then," Astrid growled, her voice becoming gravelly in her anger, gesturing at the drawings, "what is this?"

"It--uh--it--uh," Hiccup stuttered, his throat dry and palms sweaty, "it's you. It's you and you're more beautiful, just as dangerous, and still very, very violent."

Astrid's face contorted and she began to sob, burying her face into her hands. Hiccup froze, not knowing what to do. Not knowing if he should hold her, or talk to her, or beg for forgiveness--not when he couldn't seem to say the right thing. So, he just froze--eyes wide--like he had been covered in the mist of the Flightmare.

"I," sobbed Astrid, "I don't really care, but I can't help but feeling all of these," her voice broke, "feelings."

"But--"

"Shut up, Haddock," she barked, "I barely slept in a week. I can't train. I'm going soft. I feel weak. I haven't gone flying with Stormfly in a month. My breasts are huge. My hips are never going to shrink."

"But--"

"I will kill you if you interrupt me again," Astrid threatened, wiping her tears away. "My clothes don't fit anymore. I can't make new clothes because I can hardly put Ingrid down. This isn't the same, it was so different with Stoick."

"Well, you are thirty now," Hiccup offered, helpfully. "We were barely twenty one when we had Stoick."

Astrid's glare burned into him and she said nothing, she didn't need to. Hiccup realized that he had put his foot in his mouth, the metal one, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

"I just mean that your body changed, only a little, and you look better," insisted Hiccup, his voice uneven and unsure. "Your hips have to open up to let the baby out, and your breasts nourish the baby--of course they're going to grow a bit. They sometimes go back, but, uh, the hips not so much and that's okay. You're not soft, you're just out of practice, that's all."

"Hiccup," Astrid seethed, her hands over each fist while cracking her knuckles, "stop talking."

"Okay," Hiccup sighed, realizing that he had dug himself a deep hole.

"No more children," said Astrid, simply. "It does," she gestured to herself with both hands, "this."

Hiccup wondered if there were a way he could escape. He could run to the door, it was at his back. She could run faster, but he'd have the head start. He could jump on Toothless and--oh, the saddle needed to be strapped on. No, she'd catch up and pummel him for sure. Escape was not an option.

"You," Astrid continued, her voice low, "you did this to me."

"Okay, okay," Hiccup replied, raising his hands, "two children is fine."

"Alright," Astrid began, her voice leveling as she rose from the table, her tone now fierce and icy, "but you do remember how children are made, Haddock."

And, with that, she stormed from the seating area and back into the bedchamber, slamming the door and waking the baby.

"Of course I remember," Hiccup called out after her--indignant--until his jaw went slack and his eyes went wide with the realization--his hands slapped down on the table. "Oh, my gods."
End Chapter