Love will prevail:Hiccstrid one shots

Nightmares

Disclaimer: Blah.

000000000

Hiccup's father had once told him that nightmares were the product of a wounded soul, reflecting deeply rooted fears, sorrow, or guilt. While he supposed that was all true, there was one emotion his father had forgotten-regret. It was not often that Hiccup was tormented by bad dreams, but whenever he was, there seemed to be one, single recurring set of images that flashed in his mind. The only plausible explanation for it was that his soul was haunted by a single night he could barely remember-he had been just a baby, after all. The more he tried to piece the colors and sounds together into a coherent scene, the more they faded into the blackness. He could not make sense of the nightmare that occasionally disrupted his otherwise peaceful slumber, but he knew that it was not the product of any unresolved feelings his father had once suggested to him. The only emotion he could pinpoint as he awoke in a cold sweat, heart hammering away in a state of panic, was regret-for what exactly, he did not know. The death of his mother? That he had had never known her? That he had to lose her when he was just an infant, and powerless to do anything about it? He had regret for so many things related to the missing piece of his family. The only thing he was sure of was the stinging sense of loss that lingered in the air, threatening to smother him as the nightmare quickly retreated back into his subconscious.

He stared up at the ceiling, willing himself to drift back to sleep with no such luck. All traces of exhaustion had left him with the surge of adrenaline that accompanied nightmares. He was wide awake and in need of a distraction to keep him from going mad as the moon slowly began its descent. He thought about flying with Toothless, since little else provided such respite for his soul, but he heard the Night Fury's slow, deep breathing, indicating he was fast asleep. Hiccup had to admit that he was a bit envious.

He glanced over at Astrid, who was curled up beside him, framed by her golden hair which she had pulled loose from her braids. She looked so innocent while she slept, as if she was incapable of harming even the tiniest of flies, though that could not have been further from the truth. She drew the blankets even tighter around herself and he was thankful his restlessness had not awoken her, too. There was no reason for her to join him in his insomnia.

The worst part of his mind's disquiet was that it was difficult for him to do anything but reflect on his nightmare. He often resisted the urge to think about his mother, or the concept of family in general. It stirred up all kind of pain and raw emotions he did not want to bother with-but as he lie wide awake, in the silence of the early morning hours, there was not much to keep his mind from drifting in that direction, in spite of himself. He did not know why thoughts of his mother only brought him regret. What was there to regret regarding a woman he did not even know? How could he really miss someone he had no memory of?

Then again, he figured it was possible just to miss the very idea of her.

He could not mourn Valka for who she had been as a person, unlike his father. He could only mourn her for what she represented to him-the other half of his family. He knew all the ways in which he was like his father, but he did not have any sense of identity he could draw from his mother. It was an entire piece of himself that was gone-taken from him at the beginning of his life, never giving him the chance to know what a real family felt like. It took two souls to make another, and there was a void in his sense of self where his mother should have been. Family was such a defining part of life and identity on Berk, and integral to feeling as though one simply had a place to belong. Hiccup had never known a mother's love, and the concept of two parents under one roof was foreign to him-and yet, there was still a sense of loss. It was a longing for what he had never known, and for what could have been.

The thoughts were upsetting, only adding to the turmoil in his brain, serving to worsen his insomnia. While he was awake, he could do nothing else but think of his mother, continuing the vicious cycle of misery he was caught up in. It seemed so counterintuitive that thoughts of family only caused him distress, but he supposed that was only natural when one's concept of family was so broken.

Astrid sighed softly in her sleep and rolled over onto her back, kicking one leg out from underneath the covers. Hiccup smiled and brushed some loose strands of hair out of her face, thankful that he had least had her in his life. He did not have a mother to stand by him and encourage him, but Astrid had more than made up for it. She was his unwavering pillar of support, singing his praises louder than anyone else. She always had a kind word or a tender gesture when he needed it the most, and in that respect, she filled a void. In many ways, Astrid was family to him. They loved one another, and protected each other. They had known each other their whole lives, and in that same sense, his entire tribe was one big extended family. The dragons had only multiplied their numbers and strengthened those bonds, and Hiccup could not imagine life without Toothless or Astrid. Still, they did not replace the family he had lost, but at that point, it was enough for him. He may have desired an unobtainable, unconditional love that a mother had for her son, but as long as he had Toothless and Astrid, he had everything that he needed in them.

Perhaps he needed to look at things differently? Instead of focusing on the family he could not have, maybe it was time to think about the family in front of him-the one that began with Astrid. He could not breach the subject with her, since he was not yet ready to marry her, but one day, he could rediscover what a real family meant to him. Together, they would write their own definition of it, and maybe then he could reflect on the concept of family with nothing but deep satisfaction and a sense of completion.

He glanced out of his window and noticed the rosy glow of the first bands of sunlight as they peeked up over the horizon. The moon and the stars were still visible, but they were hastily retreating from the encroaching daylight. There was no effective remedy for his insomnia-nothing that would soothe his racing mind before Berk needed his attention.

Awake, he remained.

He tried to turn his mind to more pleasant thoughts, and it helped that Astrid was in his bed, giving him something else to focus on. He turned over on his side, and gently traced the contours of her face with his fingertips. She sighed softly but did not wake, snuggling deeper into the pillow with a faint smile on her face. He felt his sleeplessness was worth it for such moments. In the still and the quiet, it was almost as if everything else faded away. There was only Astrid.

All his hopes for the future began and ended with her.

000000