WARNING: This fic deals with miscarriage and baby loss, both human and dragon.

The two sections aren't set at the exact same time, just parallels. Hopefully that makes sense!

It had been a long day, to say the least; between the twins attempting to blow up one thing or another (he'd decided long ago that the details weren't important) and the rest of the village harassing him with jobs and requests all day, Hiccup had gone home wanting nothing more than to curl up with his wife in bed and fall asleep. It didn't matter that he knew Astrid would have burnt the food in an attempt to make something even remotely edible, nor that he would probably have to try to save their dinner before it was ruined completely, because he just wanted to get home to her and finish his Chief duties for the day.

Frankly, he just wanted to be with Astrid at the moment. It sounded silly, like he was a lovestruck teenager again, but it was the truth, and there was good reason for it.

After all, it wasn't every day that a man got to worship his pregnant wife.

The thought made him grin like an idiot as he made his way towards the house, his heart leaping in his chest; she had told him just a few short days ago, sitting him down and waiting for his reaction somewhat anxiously (well, as anxious as Astrid could be, he supposed). He hadn't been able to help himself from kissing her at the time, thrilled and ecstatic at the thought of becoming a father before the next summer - it seemed so surreal, like a good dream he couldn't wake up from, one he didn't necessarily want to wake up from. It would be seven or eight months yet, but that didn't matter: he just couldn't wait.

The house was still in one piece when he got home, thankfully, and it only made him chuckle to himself cheerfully; he noticed Astrid's favourite axe, one he had made her himself, was resting by the door - she was definitely home then. As he closed the door, however, he was met with a strange silence; when Astrid was home before him, it was always possible to hear her presence in the house, whether she was sighing as she got herself comfortable after a long day or dropping a few choice curses when attempting to make food. There was none of that now, however, and he tried not to feel uneasy - he was in too good a mood for it to be ruined.

"Astrid, I'm home!" He called, listening carefully.

Nothing. Perhaps she was pulling some kind of prank on him, he wondered, to amuse herself - he wouldn't put it past her, given the affectionate teasing nature of their relationship. Hiccup shrugged the furs from his shoulders, leaving them draped over a nearby chair, and tried listening again. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his footsteps as he walked about, his metal leg tapping on the wood.

"Astrid?" Still nothing. Perhaps she wasn't home after all, he thought to himself - perhaps she'd had a last minute job to do and had rushed out of the house.

After a few seconds, however, he heard a rather loud bang from upstairs, like something - or someone - falling to the floor. He was both relieved and slightly concerned - relieved to know that she was most likely home, though concerned that it wasn't in fact her or that she had injured herself upstairs. Astrid was not clumsy, and for her to fall was strange.

Making his way upstairs, he was certain he could hear some kind of muffled voice - it sounded as though it was crying. His heart beat harder in his chest, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself; the further up he got, the more he recognized the voice as belonging to his wife - and it worried him.

Something wasn't right.

The door to their room was half closed over, like she hadn't had the strength to shut it completely. Placing his hand on the wood of the door, Hiccup steeled himself and sent a silent prayer to whichever God might be watching. Please let her be okay.

The first thing he saw was that his wife was not on their bed but curled up on the floor, huddled over as she cried. Without thinking twice, he rushed to be at her side. "Astrid, what's wrong?" But she didn't need to answer for he saw for himself almost immediately.

Blood. There was blood everywhere. It was on the furs on their bed, on the wood of the floor, on Astrid herself; it was puddling beneath her, hot and sticky, and he felt all of the life in his body leave him.

"Oh. Oh, Astrid…"

She avoided his eyes as he knelt at her side, shaking her head and pushing him away from her when he tried to embrace her. "I'm-...I'm fine, H-Hiccup," She said unconvincingly. "It's fine."

"Astrid-"

"I don't know what I did wrong," She whispered, and he felt his heart sink heavily at how broken she sounded. "I went to Gothi, I asked her for advice...I was already training less, taking those stupid herbs my mother suggested… What did I do wrong, Hiccup?"

"Nothing," Hiccup managed, though he felt sick to his stomach as he wrapped his arms around her. "You didn't do anything wrong, Astrid, I promise...it just...it just happens sometimes."

He could feel her trembling against him as she finally relaxed against him, allowing herself to let go – to let her guard down instead of trying to be tough or strong. "I'm so sorry, Hiccup," She cried, burying her face into his tunic. "I'm s-so sorry…"

"Don't be sorry," He murmured gently, wishing he knew what to say or do to help her. "This wasn't your fault, Astrid, I swear." He rested his chin on top of her head, closing his eyes as a tear rolled down his face. "We can try again in a few months, it's…it's gonna be okay…"

He would fetch Gothi, bring her to the house so that Astrid could be checked and to make sure that she didn't bleed out; his mother would come over and help as much as she could too, for that matter, to make things easier for them whilst they recovered. For now, however, all Hiccup could do was hold his wife close to him as they both wept over the loss of their unborn babe, the grief falling of them like a thick heavy blanket.

The Deadly Nadder had noticed the Alpha pacing that afternoon, restless and distracted; she squawked a greeting to him as she landed by the entrance of the cave he shared with his mate, tilting her head at him. The Night Fury warbled back to her, but she could see that he was still anxious and unsettled about something – she could guess well enough.

eggs hatching?

soon.

Ah, that explained it. She knew that the Light Fury had been staying in their nest for a long time, that she had been guarding her eggs with her life, and it wouldn't be long until there were new babies to show around the Hidden World. The thought excited the Nadder, even though she knew that no other dragon breed's offspring were anywhere near as beautiful as her own – it was always comforting to see new life born and grow. It would be the Alpha and his mate's first hatchlings too, for that matter, and hopefully not the last either.

A loud bleat from the cave captured both of their attentions; deciding it was best to leave them to it, the Nadder squawked a goodbye before taking off into the sky. Meanwhile the Night Fury practically raced inside, clearly eager to be at his mate's side. The Light Fury was standing now, carefully circling the warm nest that was homing their eggs; there were three of them, a strange colouring of night-black and shining-white. She looked to her mate and made a concerned noise.

something not right, she informed him, and he stepped forwards cautiously. not hatching.

hatching late? He offered, eying the egg closest to him.

She grumbled worriedly. not this late…should hatch by now.

He hadn't seen eggs hatch before – he had never visited the rookery back in the human world, having had no reason too – and so he had no idea what to expect. Careful not to be too rough, he nosed at the closest egg and gave it a small push, hoping to wake the hatchling inside and persuade them to come out.

The egg felt…hollow.

The Night Fury almost recoiled in horror, taking a step back and growling mournfully to his mate; egg empty…no hatchling.

Her eyes widened with alarm as she hurriedly pressed her own face to the egg he had just touched, feeling for herself. The Light Fury gave a cry of distress before turning her attention to the second egg; she pushed it gently with her nose, only to make that same sorrowful cry once more. empty too…no, no…

He moved closer to her as she checked their final egg, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest – he hadn't felt this terrified or anxious in a long time, not since before he had befriended his human boy, when his boy had been considering killing him. Both hope and dread filled him as he watched his mate test the last egg in the nest, and he wished he could do more than sit by idly – that there was something he could do to save this last hatchling.

The Light Fury gave a howl of anguish as she pushed the last egg to him, and he knew even before he felt it for himself. Empty. There were no hatchlings, despite their best efforts, despite how he and his mate had guarded the eggs so carefully and fiercely.

He warbled miserably as he pressed himself close to his mate, wishing to comfort her; she had done nothing wrong, he knew, for she had not let their eggs out of her sight. She had warmed the nest to a perfect temperature to incubate them, never letting it get too cold or too hot, and the only time she had slept was when he had offered to watch them himself – she had even slept with them nestled underneath her wings on numerous occasions, extremely careful.

sorry, she bleated to him, clearly distressed; sorry.

no, he soothed sadly; not mate's fault. mate protect eggs with life. mate did good.

The Light Fury gave another cry, moving away and settling into a corner of their cave; he watched as she curled up, burying her head into her paws and sweeping her tail around herself. He could not blame her, for he felt the same anguish inside of him; he had been looking forward to having hatchlings, to he and his mate teaching their babies how to fly, to play, to hunt. He had hoped to be able to show them off to his human someday, show his boy that he had raised a family and that his choice had not been misguided. He couldn't bear to look at their eggs now, and he turned his head away – they would deal with the empty eggs later.

Instead, the Night Fury curled up beside his mate and rested his head on top of hers to offer some comfort. soon, he promised her quietly, closing his eyes: soon we have hatchlings.

It would happen eventually – at least, he hoped it would – but for now they would grieve and mourn over their lost eggs together in private, away from the watching eyes of their fellow dragons.

I just want to clarify that these two things aren't necessarily happening at the exact same time – I just thought I'd create another parallel because I love creating angsty heart-breaking parallels XD Originally it was just going to be Hiccup and Astrid, and it was going to focus a lot more on after, but for now I kind of wanted to just do this – a shorter, angsty parallel piece. I'm evil ;)

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