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The beard came after Zephyr’s birth, the result of sleepless nights and busy days.
There were times where Astrid considered herself incredibly lucky to have witnessed Hiccup’s growth spurts in such close quarters. To Berk, Hiccup was a scrawny teenager one day and the next it was ‘oh my, how ye’ve grown!’.
But for Astrid, he crept up season by season. Puberty hit him later than the others and continued to into his early adulthood. During the heat of summer when they were nineteen, they had dared to test the waters on a southern island, Astrid basking in the sun on the warm sands until her skin could no longer bear it. He had stood over her, sandy hand reaching out to help her, and he looked bigger, taller, sharper. Silhouetted against the soon to be setting sun, she couldn’t figure out when it was that she got used to him looking like that. But she remembers the spring when he lost the baby fat, the autumn when riding Toothless has resulted in slightly thicker thighs and wider hips, and the winter when he finally levelled her in height and kissing became awkward again for a couple of weeks.
The fuzz around his jaw was familiar, as if she had never known him without it. Soft and downy when she cupped his face, but coarse when her head was tucked into his neck and it caught on her forehead as he chattered away to himself.
His hands had grown to engulf hers, they were calloused just as she expected and had always remembered. It was normal at this point for Astrid to have moments of great revelation and pride that this was the man she had chosen to stand by, to watch grown in all senses, and to love wholeheartedly. And that neither of them would have expected Hiccup to mature like this.
He had hidden himself behind bulky flight suits and dragon armour during the early years of his ascension. Astrid didn’t know if this was with purpose or just a design choice, but when he removed the shoulder guards at the end of the day and joined her in their home, his build was still on the bony side of slender. So maybe that was why when the village reflected on their chief, he was once a boy and then a man, because they had not been privy to the details.
Hiccup’s response to comments about his growth never changed over the years, an awkward chuckle and shrug before finding something else to talk about, a trick he admitted to learning back when his respect on Berk was minimal. Anything to move the conversation away from how un-Viking he was.
After the dragons left though, his shoulders broadened, and his chest filled with muscle that finally complimented the definition of his abdomen and hips which came from riding. Building New Berk was tiresome, but Hiccup had reaped the benefits without even noticing. Without dragons, everyone had to readjust to the increased physical work. Hiccup’s time was spent between lending a helping hand and working tirelessly at the forge to create pullies, cranes and lifts.
He had more weight, his presence over her in the mornings following sleepy kisses and caresses felt larger with every passing day. Astrid’s legs had to spread wider around his shoulders, arms had to reach further to grasp at his back in pleasure, and her hands had a large place to rest when she hoisted a leg over his waist in the heat of the night.
Contrary to popular belief, Astrid was never bothered by the whispers about her deserving more than Hiccup – even after everything, in those early days there was still doubt and judgment that she had continuously refused Snotlout’s attempts to pursue Hiccup. Yet, when she looked at him, she felt an overwhelming burst of warmth in her chest and stirring in her belly. Maybe she was fickle, but her husband was handsome and completely oblivious to it.
Building their family, now that was tiresome. The fruits of their labour giving them sleepless nights from noise, worry or the sudden panic that they were parents. Three weeks after Zephyr’s birth, they were curled up in bed. Zephyr resting on Hiccup’s bare chest as he sat against the headboard, Astrid laying on her side gazing up at them in wonder.
“We’re parents,” his gaze shifted to Astrid’s, hand stroking Zephyr’s head dusted with auburn. Astrid smiled up at him, lethargic yet fond. Looking away to watch Zephyr’s nose scrunch against his fluff of chest hair, he whispered again. “Astrid, we’re parents.”
She only hummed but reached up to stroke his cheek feeling the newly dense hair against his jaw. She liked it, scratching through it with her nails to test it further before bringing him down for chaste kiss. Reaching behind his ears, she worked at the now four-week-old braid he had neglected to take out himself. Neither of them had noticed, her own hair only looking presentable when it needed to be, both exhausted.
Hiccup took the hints and kept the beard, never long enough to braid or style, but enough for the kids to push him away through tickling and beard rubbing. Enough for greys to grow in and his mom to comment on the passage of time. Enough for Astrid to sometimes regret encouraging it when he began kissing down her chest and stomach, destination clear in mind for a second or third time.
His hair softened as he got older, much easier for her to run her hands through and more difficult for the kids to knot and pull at like they did Astrid’s. She considered him lucky. There was a short time after Zephyr’s second birthday in the spring, where he grew it long enough to be pulled into a low tie at the back of his neck. She would find him occasionally, standing tall on the cliff edge with Zephyr clutched to his side, gesturing widely to the endless sea ahead. Their silhouette against the bright sky and afternoon sun creating a sight that made her heart ache. His hair was tied back into a simple bun but the cliffside wind blew roughly against the shorter strands.
He turned at her approaching footsteps, his welcoming side smirk the same as it was at sixteen. Astrid reached for Zephyr, taking her gently and hoisting her to a comfortable position against her hips. Hiccup briefly reached out to squeeze the other side of her waist, a habit he had got into when passing Zephyr along. His hands strong but sweet, big enough to reach around her slim waist which was decidedly not the same as when he was sixteen.
“Your hair’s getting long,” she stated simply, gently tucking a few stray strands behind his ear and tugging on the lobe fondly. Hiccup chucked, a shy shrug and brief touch to the bun at the back of his head.
“She tugs it now to get a rise out of me, not a new-born anymore eh? It’s probably time for a trim,” he smiled and nodded to Zephyr, now tucked under Astrid’s chin.
Astrid hummed, “probably a good idea considering.”
Hiccup frowned in confusion but let it be as Astrid’s gaze had moved to look out at the horizon. A moment later, right before Hiccup took the silence to lament the missing dragons, Astrid whispered into the wind.
“I’m pregnant."