Romantic Flights [ hiccstrid drabbles/oneshots ]

1 - Sketch

They had a very unhappy relationship.

At least, he did. He didn't like being with her, and he was always miserable. She wasn't right for him. But there wasn't any other choice. The chief had to have an heir, and it was looked down upon to sleep with someone before marriage. So they married, to his dismay.

He loved his children, he didn't love their mother. There might've been the slightest interest in the beginning, but he was brainwashed. He didn't know what he was doing. He wish he chose differently, but then again, who was there to choose? Berk didn't have a great selection of maidens, no offense to the women. They weren't his type. No one was.

Hiccup sat on the stool outside of Gothi's hut, looking out at his village. His village. He was the chief. His people. His dragons, his buildings, his laws. He liked it at first, but after a turn of events happened a few months into his chieftain work, he rarely smiled.

Hiccup's wife was giving birth to his second child. He plugged his ears to block out her screams and yells. He couldn't bring himself into the room to support her, not like he was allowed anyway. That would earn a whack upside the head from Gothi and her brutal staff. So, he resulted to sketching in his notebook. Stroke, stroke, went his charcoal, Toothless playing with children is what ended up being the result of his art. He looked down and smiled at his Night Fury, prancing around the flower beds of Ruffnut and Snotlout's house.

Hiccup felt weird smiling, he hadn't done it in so long. The only things that cheered him up were flying, and his son. He didn't talk to his old friends much anymore, there was no time between work and his family. Plus, it reminded him too much of what happened the years before.

Hiccup put his head in his hands, and felt the overgrown stubble on his face. He definitely needed to shave, he knew she hated beards. He disliked them, too, but he wanted to please her.

He turned when he heard a short pant from behind him. A small boy, around four years of age, had climbed up to the healer's hut. Hiccup stood up, almost knocking the stool over from behind him.

"Stoick, I told you to stay down on the ground!" Hiccup sighed, picking up the boy and sitting back down with him in his lap. Stoick had Hiccup's features, green eyes and dark auburn hair, and a face structure similar to his father's. He had his mother's warrior-spirit and stealth.

"I heard Mommy crying," Stoick said. "Why is she screaming?"

Hiccup chuckled, bouncing his son on his knee, trying to ignore her hideous wails. "Your baby brother or sister is coming."

The screaming stopped, and Hiccup exhaled in relief. He knocked gently on the wood near the curtain doorway. "You okay? Can I come in?"

"Yes," his wife called, obviously out of breath. The doorway was extremely short for Hiccup, standing 6'6''at twenty-eight years old. He ducked down, entered the room, and stood up straight as he saw his wife, with the thick braid and bright eyes staring at him with a bundle in her arms. "It's a girl."

Hiccup scooped his child out of her arms, and looked at the baby. A red, fresh face and a mop of dark hair. Her eyes weren't open, but he knew what their color would be.

His child. He made her, and he was fifty percent of the reason she was here. Hiccup was proud, a strong-looking baby girl. A lovely, healthy baby. He found himself smiling down at the child, eyes watering up. "She's beautiful. We should name her-"

"Hiccup, no," his wife said sternly, eyes narrowed. "I know what you're going to say. And the answer is no."

"But-"

"No."

"Please, just-"

"Eydis," the woman declared, peering at the bundle. "Her name is Eydis."

Hiccup's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything. He kissed Eydis's head and handed her back to her mother.

That night, Hiccup sat in his chair, his father's old chair. Stoick fell asleep in his lap, and his wife and Eydis were bundled up, snoozing in piles of furs. He opened his sketchbook, and a piece of paper fell out. Pulling the flickering candle closer, and squinting at the paper he picked up, Hiccup gasped.

Her.

The drawing of her.

He hasn't seen her in so long. His eyes watered, until tears streamed waterfalls down his face. Racked, silent sobs started shaking his body. Hiccup tried not to wake his son, but the boy started yawning.

"Hic-Hic... cup... sleep," his wife slurred. "Spiders! Nono... bUBBLES. MANY bubBLES!"

"Shh, Heather," Hiccup said to his wife. Heather groaned and snuggled Eydis closer to herself.

"Who's that?" asked curious Stoick, pointing to the sketch of her.

The spiked skirt and skulls, the furry hood, the axe. The light braid and caring, cerulean eyes. Hiccup wiped his eyes. "Her name is, was, Astrid."

"Who's Astrid?" his son questioned.

My one, true love, Hiccup thought. "She... ah... was my good friend."

"You seem to like her a lot. Do you like her like Mommy?"

"No, no," Hiccup chuckled. I loved her way more than I will ever love Heather.

"Where is she?"

The chief drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady himself and not break into another crying fit. "She's, um, up in Valhalla. With Grandpa Stoick, and Uncle Gobber." Seeing the little boy's face, he knew the next question that was coming. "Astrid... traveled to Valhalla seven years ago. A year after I became chief." A few weeks before our marriage.

"Aw, I'm sorry Daddy," Stoick said.

"No, no, it's okay bud," Hiccup cooed. From across the room, hearing "bud", Toothless perked up. Hiccup raised an eyebrow at his dragon, and the Night Fury slumped back down.

His rider always seemed sad after his blonde mate got sick a while ago. Toothless never saw Stormfly's rider after that, and wondered a lot. The dragon remembered his rider spending hours in the forge instead of flying to make rings for an "Astrid". He never heard that title anymore. His rider gave the dark-haired, green-eyed Razorwhip rider the rings instead a few years later. His rider wasn't happier. Toothless didn't like her as much. Toothless missed Astrid. He wanted to see her.

Stoick fell asleep again in his father's lap, while the chief continued to look at the sketch of Astrid. He heard the door to his house creak open, but he knew who it was. Streaks of grey caught his peripheral vision, he didn't even. Bother turning his head. A pair of thin hands started stroking his hair and adding a few small braids to it. Like she used to.

"I miss her so much, Mom," Hiccup said quietly, trying not to cry again.

"There, there," Valka muttered. "Me, too, son. Me, too."

Valka always loved Astrid, and was devastated when she died, too. Heather didn't provide much relief from the grief, but Hel, she provided an heir. But that's what mattered, right?

Hiccup could still see her excited, beautiful blue eyes, feel her silky, yellow hair, taste her sweet lips. If he could choose between a lifetime with Heather, or one minute with Astrid, he'd chooses minute with Astrid, without even thinking about it. He didn't need to.

But it didn't matter, because she wasn't there. Slipped away from Hiccup's fingertips, and gone forever.

A/N
I probably won't write any author's notes on the other oneshots, just wanted to say sorry for having such a sad start... hehe... *sobs*

I hope you enjoy my drabbles, I promise I have a load of happy ones waiting for you!