IF YOU ARE TAKING YOUR CHANCES AND READING THIS WHETHER OR NOT IT'S A SEQUEL, THE ONLY THING YOU NEED TO KNOW IS...that Valka came back telling Stoick she was pregnant when he banished her (my version of what happened), but the baby she named Katla died. They got over this difference, killed Drago, and inadvertently got pregnant again. The epilogue of "The Dragon Killer" you could probably read to find out what they name the baby. These one-shots are just fillers. Okay, now to those who requested the one-shots.

Hello again! As promised, here is the long awaited one-shots of the Haddock life with Henrik. I thought I'd start with the pregnancy first because I had some ideas about it and I like things for me in chronological order. Just me and my weirdness. :) Anyway, here's the first little bit. I hope you like it and think of it was a worthy start. Read/Review/Enjoy/Criticize. (also, this is my first humor/emotional based fanfic, so if there are any humor writers out there, please I need some pointers!)

12 days until the sequel people! ISN'T EVERYONE EXCITED!? Okay, that's a really long AN. Sorry about that. :)

She woke up with a start and realized that the bed was wet. She flew off the sheets. She called for her husband, but he was not beside her in the bed as usual. Where could he have gone? What was this dampness in the bed? For a reason she didn't know, she just sat there, thinking over what had happened that day, the explanations for the wet bed completely gone.

Pregnant. She was pregnant. After years of trying, waiting, thinking it would never happen again, she was with child. It was both a blessing and a curse, for while any child is a miracle from Valhalla, this baby had come to them as she and her husband were bordering old age. Of course, they weren't that old. She was in her early forties and still had a long life ahead of her, as did her husband. But as a mother, she couldn't help but worry.

She smiled. Ever since discovering the miracle of new life in her womb, the image of her other son sprung to life in her memory. He was ecstatic when she told him, thrilled to the point of laughing hysterically. He was such a blessing in her life and would be the ideal big brother to this little one shielded in her womb.

Enveloped in a sense of beautiful familial love, she caressed her womb. Once her fingers stroked it, she knew something was wrong.

She had no idea what it was, but something was missing. Something was amiss. She glanced around the dark room. It was a new moon, so no light crept through the shut window. For the first time, she noticed the eerie wind whistling through the grottos and forests of her home. And that was another thing that seemed wrong; a part of her swore that she now lived in a village, far away from the grottos of their home but still bordering the forest. She wouldn't hear the sound wind dancing through caves. Unless…

She struggled out of bed, the pattern of her walk seeming perfectly normal to her, but in reality, was quite bizarre. Her legs were outstretched because of an uncomfortable feeling and she wobbled forward, all the while caressing her womb. But she continued to walk, determined to see what was outside the window, because some desperate calling within her shouted, "The window is where you'll find answers!"

With a heave and a grunt, she tore the shades off the window and gasped.

This wasn't her home. It wasn't her home. She had a faint idea where she was, a place that shrouded her in love and protection, but it wasn't her home. Grottos and caves surrounded her bedroom, which come to think of it, shouldn't have been here at all, she realized.

She peered out the window, her heart screaming at her to place all of this in the right order, but eerie another feeling instructed her that there was something else here.

She waited for whatever sign was about to come, but when it did, she wished that it hadn't.

A grave grew from the bottom of the grotto. It was a familiar grave; a grave that symbolized her thirteen years of sadness.

And like a rock hitting her, the strangeness of the wet bed dawned on her.

She whirled around, gasping, begging everything to not be true. But it was. The bed showed the signs of a miscarriage.

Refusing her baby was dead, she felt her stomach, feeling for any kick, any flutter, any sign that the baby was still alive!

"No. No. No!" she pleaded. "Don't let my baby die! Baby, baby! Dear baby!"

All the while, a voice, a hauntingly beautiful, manipulative, eerie voice whispered, hissed, "Katla…"

Valka shot out of bed, gasping. She felt hot. That was the first thing she noticed. Then, everything came into focus.

She was in her bedroom, Stoick breathing heavily by her side. The full moon gave enough light in the room for her to see that this, was in fact, Berk, not the cave where her refugee dragons hid. And Katla's grave was nowhere near here.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, everything was fine. It should've been. But she couldn't bury the fear, and guilt, of that dream.

Valka surrendered to the sleep overcoming her eyes and lay back down. She brushed the small, unnoticeable bump which held her baby. She could feel it. He or she was still alive. But his or her older sister…

She felt Stoick rustling beside her and cringed when she heard his voice.

"Val? Are you okay?"

As upset as she was to wake him, Valka was humored by the tone of distress in his voice. "Don't worry Stoick. It's only three months. The baby's not even close to being born yet."

Valka made sure her remark had the dose of humor in it, but as much as she hated it, Stoick was an expert at reading her facial expressions, and at times, hidden meanings behind her voice.

So with a grunt, he got out of bed, slipped on his bathrobe, and ordered, "Stay here. I'll get you some warm milk."

"Don't wake Hiccup!"

Stoick chuckled. "Hiccup's not the baby."

Valka realized her mistake and threw her pillow at Stoick. He threw it back and left to get her milk.

Valka sipped the beverage and watched as Stoick kindled the fire in the bedroom hearth. In truth, when he delivered her milk, he had almost gone back to bed before she hastily said, "I want to talk!" Having only a groan of tiredness be his complaint, Stoick lit the fire and smiled periodically back to his wife.

"Alright," Stoick breathed with satisfaction once the fire was a blaze. He returned to the bed and sat beside his wife. "What do you want to talk about?"

Silence was her response. She kept sipping the milk and felt the heat take effect on her body. Her eyes felt drowsy and the temptation to lean back was great.

Stoick, though tired, was incredibly patient, especially at this hour. He waited while she sipped her milk, assuming that by "talk" his wife just meant "quiet reflection." She often had hidden meanings. So, affectionately, he rubbed her back, which he was sure he'd be doing more of in the next few months. The baby would get heavier, and along with him or her, the child's mother. Her ankles would hurt from walking and she'd get backaches and she'd want to eat nothing but toast and cheese, but Stoick was prepared. After all, they had done this before, hadn't they? As he rubbed her back, he moved to rub her stomach, to feel the sense of life burst from there, but with it, came his wife's fury.

"We don't know what we're doing!" she exclaimed, much louder than she usually spoke. She shoved away her husband's hold, first removing the hand that touched her belly.

Stoick immediately deciphered that action. This was a command that held no hidden meaning.

Hesitantly, he asked, "For what?"

She looked to him as if he were crazy. "The baby!"

"We-we had this discussion. We were competent when we were young with Hiccup…"

"Yes Stoick! Yes! Young!"

Finally, Stoick caught her meaning. He looked to the fire in the hearth.

His wife kept talking, "We're not young anymore Stoick! And it's not like you and I live the calmest life either! You're a chief with constant demand who's already going to be focused on training Hiccup! I'm a…I don't know what I am but it's a dangerous job!"

Stoick opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't even draw breath before she rambled, "And it's not like I can go and do whatever my job was before either! Oh my! What will this do to my post at the dragon sanctuary? Will I take the baby along? And what about when we die, if war claims you or I face a dragon who can't be trained? Or old age takes us? What'll happen to the baby? Do we saddle Hiccup with all that responsibility when he'll have his own family…!"

"Valka!" Stoick barked.

She finally breathed. She had said that all in one breath. She leaned back against the headboard, massaging her forehead. "I don't know what to do."

Stoick grabbed her hands, pulled them off her face, and kissed them. "I don't know the answer to any of those questions. But I do remember twenty years ago, you had a fitful night just like this."

"I didn't dream about our daughter's grave twenty years ago!" Valka shouted before she thought about her words.

Stoick hid his gasp and expertly masked it with a sigh of realization. "So, that's what you're worried about."

She buried her face in her hands. She moved to Stoick and collapsed in his hold. "What if the baby dies?" she asked. "What if…what if…"

"I don't know. I don't know all the answers to your questions. I don't know."

Valka looked up at him. "You're not making me feel any better."

Stoick humorlessly chuckled. "I'm not making myself feel any better either. But we'll take this one day at a time. One day. We'll deal with problems as they come, and it'll all be alright. Am I right?"

Valka nodded, surrendering to Stoick's persuasive arguments.

"Good. Now, it's well past midnight and the fire's losing light. Let's go to sleep."

Valka knew many things about her husband, and one fact was that challenging him once he gave you an order, unless you were his fully awake wife, was pointless. So she slid underneath the covers and guided the tiny bump to lie beside her. Stoick kissed her forehead gingerly before going to extinguish the fire and returned to bed.

As he did, Valka massaged her tummy. I don't know the future, little one, she thought, but I do know that you will have an amazing father.

Her child must've heard her, because the familiar flutter tickled in response. I know Mommy.

Please review! How'd you like it? Remember, I need pointers and inspiration! So any PM messages with either of those I will welcome! Thank you so much for reading!