A collection of interrelated oneshots (and the odd twoshot here and there) about our beloved Haddocks. Not in chronological order, but as inspiration strikes. Though listed as 'Complete,' this will be updated as a continuing story until I run out of ideas (so hit that 'Follow' button if you want more).

All stories here will be posted separately also, for anyone who likes a particular one, two or few but not the others. Hope you enjoy :)

A LATE HOMECOMING

Hanging his chief's cloak felt like suspending the archipelago, but for some reason the short climb to the bedroom was longer than Hiccup would have liked. It had something to do with wanting to come home – coming back home and being whole again.

Whatever burdens he carried for the village were gone now, buried deep and forgotten.

He paused, for a moment, at the top of the stairs and rested jaded eyes on the first door to his right. It stood ajar in the wake of a familiar vacantness, empty crib lit under the trailing moonlight. Not much longer, Hiccup thought with a smile. Well before the next summoning of chieftains anyway.

He proceeded toward Zephyr's room, footfalls quiet but quick, grinning at the thought of her sleep-mused form awaiting him. But just as his hand reached for the handle, the door flung back and a small russet blur came crashing into his legs.

"Hey, Princess," he whispered, stumbling on his prosthetic as tiny arms wound around him, "What are you doing up?"

"You're late, Daddy," came a muffled huff at his knee, before the mop of russet lifted and he was met with the intent, sea-blue stare of his wife.

Identical grins broke across their faces and Hiccup scooped the little girl up in a fit of giggles. Shifting her in one arm, he motioned to his lips, and Zeph clamped her hands over her mouth, beam widening behind her fingers as he stepped into her room and quietly closed the door.

"You've been my brave lookout tonight, have you?" he asked, bouncing her gently as he carried her to the bed.

She nodded with enthusiasm. "I was keeping watch wif Mommy, but Mommy said it was getting too late."

"That it is," he agreed, brushing wispy bangs from the eyes he'd fallen doubly in love with for the last three years. An hour ago, he was sure sleep would befall him before he even reached the docks. Now, with his precious daughter in his arms, he found his exhaustion ebbing away. "Is Mommy asleep?"

"Yup, Mommy's really tired. But I took good care of her."

Hiccup's heart swelled as he beamed down at his baby girl, the pride in her smile flowing to his own. Who'd have thought that such a simple look could give a man such a flurry? "That's my girl," he leaned in to blow a raspberry behind her ear.

Zephyr giggled again, gripping his tunic tighter. She nuzzled her nose into his chest – another one of her endless traits that he loved – and Hiccup found himself on the bed with her in his lap, making her gasp between laughs.

"You're i-itchy, Daddy!"

"Itchy?" he feigned surprise, "You mean, like this?" and he pressed his lips to her neck in another puff, hugging her close to stop her escaping.

"N-now you're s-scratchy!"

As his hold slackened both for immediate thought of waking Astrid and puzzlement at the comment, Zeph reached up with chubby little fingers to touch his chin.

"Scratchy," she repeated with a quieter giggle and Hiccup absently mimicked the motion, realizing a fuzz of russet that had snuck him by the past few days. "Are you growing a beard, Daddy?"

"Well, I don't know, Zeph," he studied her fondly, "I've never considered it… Do you think I should?"

Her brow furrowed in thought for a moment, eyes shining brightly under her night candle. "Maybe a little one."

"Oh? Just a little one? Like Uncle Fishlegs'?"

"Vat's not a beard, Daddy – vat's a moos-taaash!"

Hiccup chuckled at her seriousness. "Oh, sorry, I thought beards and mustaches came together. How about… Uncle Snotlout's then?"

"Eww! No way!"

"So a big one then, you say… like Uncle Tuffnut's?"

Zeph's expression morphed into a satirical scowl. Thor, it was like looking in a mirror at his three-year-old self, "Don't be silly, Daddy. Uncle Tuffnut doesn't have a beard!"

Hiccup gasped in feigned astonishment, making her chortle again. "Doesn't he?!"

She grinned cheekily – now that one she'd definitely inherited from her mother – "No, it's just his hair!"

"Why, aren't you clever figuring that out; that's five whole years he's fooled me."

That prouder-than-ever smile graced her features again and Hiccup marveled at how she could switch from him to Astrid and back in a heartbeat. "I guess I'll have to settle for a little one then," he said in sham defeat, "since Tuffnut's proven how hard beards are to grow. But in the meantime…"

"Daddyyyy!" Zephyr whinged as he rubbed his cheek against hers, abandoning another futile attempt at squirming out of his grasp. She reburied her face in his tunic, the rest of her sentence muffled in a jumble of giggles.

Whether her infinite energy reserves had come from him with his years of late-night inventing or Astrid with her pre-dawn training routines, Hiccup didn't know. But he didn't want either of them to pay the price tomorrow.

Regretfully drawing back, he shifted the furs and proceeded to tuck her in. "Well now that she's made sure I'm back safe and sound, I think my brave little lookout can be relieved of her duties for the night."

"Okay…" she reluctantly obliged, settling back against her pillow as he pulled the covers to her chin. "But Daddy, you did finish all your chiefing, right?"

"For tomorrow," Hiccup smiled, laying a tender kiss to her forehead.

"So you don't have to be the village's daddy tomorrow?"

"Nope, I'm all yours, princess."

Zephyr beamed. "And Mommy's."

"And Mommy's," he agreed, an overwhelming flurry of passion seizing his mind at the thought of his wife. "Sleep tight, Zeph," he said softly as he got up and made his way to the door, "And no more lookout duty."

She saluted with a grin, sea-hued orbs gleaming with cheek. Odin above, she looked just like her… "Love you, Daddy."

"Love you too, precious."

At first, Astrid didn't stir, but when he carefully slipped in beside her and pulled the furs over himself, her heavy lashes lifted and her eyes fluttered open.

"Hiccup?" He watched her gaze drift into focus, ocean blue meeting forest green. She grinned lazily and murmured in a sleepy daze, "You're late."

"So I've been told – your daughter," he held her weary but heartfelt gaze in the candlelight. The tallow stood tall on their bedside table, evidencing its burning as brief. "And what's kept you up this late, milady?"

"Your son," she teased back, and Hiccup lay a palm over her swollen womb, feeling said little life turning inside of her. He was a 'tough little tumbler,' Astrid had observed the past few months, hence – by some motherly intuition – she'd concluded they were having a boy. Hiccup didn't remind her that she was the toughest Viking on Berk, men of his father's generation included.

(But determinedly he always referred to the baby as a she, so his wife hadn't fully won that one yet.)

Too tired and sympathetic to challenge her, he settled for a genuine apology for his delay. Astrid gratefully accepted the arm he curved behind her and he drew her into him, cupping her jaw with his free hand before she could begin asking about southern chieftains and trade routes.

That could wait until morning, or year's end for all Hiccup cared now that his world was in his arms again.

Well, half his world – two thirds, most accurately. His fingertips flexed at the side of her – heavily – swollen belly.

Gods she was beautiful. And gods, she needed him here.

Smoothing his other palm across her cheek, Hiccup leaned in and kissed her. She grinned sleepily against his lips, her fingers winding around his neck and gliding through his hair. After an eternity that was all too short she tilted her head back and broke the kiss, gazing up at him curiously.

"Hiccup?"

"Yes?"

Astrid cocked her head to the side, "What is this?"

"This?" he repeated dazedly, before he noticed her fingertips exploring his jawline. "It's my new beard, Astrid."

She contemplated him for a moment. "Is it staying?"

"Well… it's the traditional Viking look."

"For the most untraditional Viking ever."

Hiccup tried to look serious but her stare melted him. "True…" he found himself playing with her own sleep-strewn tresses, "but something's got to be done for sake of my manliness; you girls have me outnumbered."

Astrid grinned, drawing his hand down and guiding it across her abdomen, "Not for long."

"Maybe even more so soon," he challenged with a loving massage, and as if to immediately disprove his statement he felt a hard kick against his fingers.

"I think that's a disagreement there, Chief," she goaded, smirk widening mischievously.

"Cheater," Hiccup pouted. His gaze fell on their entwined fingers with accusation, "You knew he was going to do that."

"Maybe. But you just called him a he, so…"

"Fine, you win," he conceded with a sigh, bracing himself for the usual "You knew what you were getting into."

But she was so breathtaking, and with the phenomenon that was their second child rolling beneath his palm, he couldn't stop that tired grin from forming on his face. Besides, there was still the first victory to claim: "Zeph likes it."

He drew his gaze up to find Astrid watching him with longing. Her hand found his cheek again, thumb brushing the russet fuzz, "Does she now?"

She pulled him down to taste his lips once more, and Hiccup's own stomach flipped as he found himself wrapping both arms around her belly. So entranced, he almost forgot to relish his triumph, until she pulled back for a thoughtful moment and murmured lovingly against his lips, "I suppose I could get used to it."

That we could, he mutely agreed as she snuggled against his chest. He managed a drowsy, lopsided grin and hugged her ever closer, nuzzling his fluffy chin into her hair.

Astrid could never refuse their precious little girl, and by gods, he could never refuse either of his.