I'm soo happy you're back!! I've missed the sacrifice au so much and still think about it sometimes and suddenly I've read the whole thing in a day again. It was one of the first proper long fanfics I read years ago and one of my favs ever!
Thank you so much anon!
You guys, I have received so many messages about the sacrifice au in the past couple of weeks, I really feel like I owe you guys an update. I spent a few days working on this, and tomorrow I plan on adding the sacrifice au guide back to my main page so you guys can access it easier and in order. Thank you SO SO much to everyone who has sent me messages of support and encouragement, you will never know how much they mean to me. <3
“Do you plan on showing mercy any time soon?”
There’s a little amusement in Valka’s voice, a teasing lilt, but Astrid wonders if there’s a more sincere sentiment underlying it.
They’re cradled in the stone windows of their living quarters, sharing a bowl of berries as they watch the aviary. Below them, unaware of his audience, Hiccup has a new dragon prosthesis in his hand, and he’s chasing a Changewing with a torn wing back and forth. Curled up on a rock, Toothless looks on with barely stifled smugness, his tail languorously flicking side to side.
“Giving him hope wouldn’t be mercy.” Astrid replies with a taste of bitterness. “I don’t do anything just because I like watching him squirm.” Though there was a little satisfaction in it. “I do it because I hate him. I don’t want him near me.”
She never would have said such a thing so bluntly to Valka before. When she first came to the sanctuary, she tiptoed around badmouthing Hiccup, worried that it would make Valka angry. After these several weeks, though, they’ve become so close– it’s almost like talking with her own mother.
Almost. Not quite.
“You hated him once before,” the older woman mentions, her tone casual. “How did you overcome it the last time?”
It’s a fair question. Astrid ponders it as she rolls a berry across her tongue. Was it the day he took her to Bulg for the first time, giving her a taste of freedom? Was it learning about his past from his mother? It’s hard to say when she started enjoying his presence instead of despising it.
“Maybe it was just a trick of the mind.” She shrugs, tilting her head a little. “I was a prisoner. I had nobody else.”
“It could be. It’s a possibility.” That’s why she likes Valka so much. She doesn’t judge, and she doesn’t let her feelings blind her to reason. “The best way to find out would be to give him a chance now that you’re free.”
Astrid wrinkles her nose, flicking her gaze to Valka’s face to show her displeasure before glancing back at the bowl. Her fingers flick and dig for the largest, most perfect looking berry. “You want me to forgive him.”
With a heavy exhale, Valka makes a vague gesture with her hand in Hiccup’s direction. “I’m biased. Mothers aren’t very good at seeing the worst in their children.”
Astrid doesn’t reply, instead throwing fruit at her.
The other woman’s laugh is hearty and warm. “I mean it. If you look at him long and hard, you might be able to figure out why exactly you fell for him in the first place. Or–” She shrugs. “You find that it was only your nearness to each other that pushed you two together. Either way, you won’t know until you try talking.”
Astrid feels her eyes roll upwards– not in disrespect, but unwillingness. She unfolds herself from the crook of the stone window and slides down the wall so she can stretch her legs out in front of her. Her jaw tightens as she knots her fingers in the fabric of her tunic, as if she can hold the little life inside just as tight. She glares ahead.
“I’m just… so…” Shaking her head, Astrid huffs like a perturbed dragon. “I’m so angry.”
“Are you angry?” Valka takes advantage of the new space in the window, propping her feet up where Astrid had been sitting. “Or are you hurt?”
“Both? Mostly angry.” The stone behind her feels cold through her clothes and even seeps through her braid. “It’s like there’s this hot coal in my chest, always burning. Always stinging. When he leaves me alone, it’s just kind of sizzling, but when I see him–” Her words lose traction, and she struggles for the right thing to say. “I want to rip it out.”
They sit in quiet for a moment. Hiccup’s voice just barely floats upwards from outside.
After a few minutes of thoughtful silence, Valka crawls out of the window and places the bowl by Astrid. She grabs her staff and walks towards the exit to the aviary. Over her shoulder, she cheerfully says, “All coals burn up eventually.”
It’s well after midnight when Valka rouses Hiccup from his sleep, squeezing his shoulder with a warm hand. He blinks blearly into the dark, startling a little when he makes out the frightful mask of his mother’s helmet.
“I told you not to do that,” he mumbles, pushing up on an elbow and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. “You know that thing is creepy.”
She makes a noise of amusement, more of a purr than a laugh. An evolution after living with the dragons for so long. “Sorry, dear.” Then her tone drops, more serious. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a flight. There’s a ship of trackers skirting the ice.”
Toothless must pick up on the sound of warning in Valka’s voice, because he rustles in the corner and yawns, sitting up.
“What’s brought them so close?” Hiccup pats his furs for his flask out of habit before remembering he doesn’t have it anymore.
“Not sure.” His mother glances over her shoulder, as if she’s being watched. “It might be our comings and goings. I’m going to try and draw them away.”
“You’re leaving now?”
She straightens and bobs her head in a nod. “There’s no time to waste. If word of our location spreads, we could be swarmed with trappers in a day’s time.”
He begins to pull his furs aside. “Shouldn’t I go with you?”
Her hand on his shoulder stops him. “No. I need you here to protect the sanctuary if it turns out to be a distraction. If they slip by me or if another ship arrives, I need someone who can organize the dragons and defend us.”
The idea of sleep instantly evaporates. He reaches a hand for Toothless, and he’s met with a scaly nudge. “Do you think I need to get Astrid out of here?”
Valka’s eerie mask tilts back and forth in a display of uncertainty. “I think it’s better if she stays. The ships are still a few days out by boat. No sense in moving her over an unlikely possibility, and if something does happen, she’ll probably be more help to you here.”
He doesn’t entirely agree. The idea of Trappers and Astrid in the same place makes his skin prickle with uneasiness. But he trusts that Valka doesn’t think the ships are an urgent threat. Even more nerve wracking than the idea of nearby ships is the thought of the two of them being alone in a frosty silence without his mother as a buffer between them.
“I’ll hold everything down here,” he assures her. “I’ll send a dragon if we spot anything.”
Once she’s gone, the place feels too quiet and open. Hiccup figures he’ll get a couple more hours of rest before getting up– he might need it in case of an emergency– but he’s wide awake. Instead of staring at the ceiling and sighing, he decides to take Toothless for a late-night flight. It’ll let him keep an eye on the horizon and stretch his dragon’s wings before the rest of the world stirs.
No ships, so far as the eye can see. It allays his fears a little to see nothing but black ocean and blue ice for miles. The ship Valka saw must be rather far out indeed. That makes him feel slightly better about the threat of the sanctuary being found by trappers.
He enjoys his time with Toothless until the sky begins to lighten. Thor knows his Night Fury enjoys it just as much as he does, having been making less regular trips across the archipelago. The cold air that slips through his flight suit is exhilarating, and it helps him think. Everything feels a little bit clearer near the clouds.
There are a few dragons from the sanctuary that are starting to rise and skim the water’s surface for food. They play and dance in the ocean spray, giving Hiccup an idea. He directs Toothless to snag a few fish for themselves and heads for home just as morning light begins to sparkle off the sanctuary spires.
He’s never been a great cook, but fish is one thing he can do with no problem. Catch it, throw it over a fire, make sure it doesn’t fall into the flames. He remembers some of the harder nights with Toothless– back before they found a place to settle– where he was so hungry he would hardly wait for the fish to cook through before tearing into it. These days, since he has the luxury of time, he sometimes tends to let it burn.
That’s probably the smell that brings a bleary-eyed Astrid inside. At first her expression is just sleepy and confused, probably expecting to find Valka at the fire, but she pulls up short when she finds him instead.
“Good morning!” He blurts before she can have a chance to run away. He’s trying to plate a trout that’s falling to pieces, struggling to keep it in one piece. It’s a good thing that blacksmithing has stripped him of most feeling in his fingertips, because he’s sure they’d be blistered by the heat. “Toothless– show the good lady to her seat.”
As rehearsed, the Night Fury stalks behind her and uses his nose to nudge her towards a seat. Astrid makes a noise of indignation but doesn’t object. She watches Hiccup with a sharp gaze, which is only slightly softened by a tinge of curiosity. Her arms stay crossed defensively in front of her.
“Breakfast, to start the day.” He sets the fish on the stone next to her, already sure she wouldn’t take it if he handed it over. His strategy is to keep her distracted with conversation until she slips up and speaks to him. “Fresh pike, caught just hours ago by your favorite offspring of lightning and death. A cup of tea, ready to brew. Mom’s going to be out for a few days, but if you need anything, I can get it for you.”
Without replying, Astrid picks up the plate and sniffs it cautiously. The expression her face pulls isn’t promising. His hands are pouring hot water into a cup of tea leaves, but his attention is fully engrossed by her every movement.
It must be at least slightly tempting, because she picks out a less scorched piece of fish and brings it to her lips. He’s pleased when she doesn’t immediately spit out her first couple of nibbles, but before he can get too excited, her brow suddenly furrows. She sets down the plate with a little force and uses the back of her hand to wipe her mouth.
Instead of waiting for disappointment to set in, he inhales deeply and presses on.
“Fiske’s wife actually showed me this tea. You remember Fiske? His wife is kind of terrifying.” When he steps close to hand her the cup, he can tell that she’s breathing a little unsteadily. Valka tells him to check on her whenever she ends up sick to her stomach, but he’s always pushed away– verbally and physically– whenever he tries.
She takes the cup from his hand, eyeing it warily. This time he stands next to her and watches as she takes a tiny sip. Surprisingly, a minute amount of tension seems to melt from her stiff frame, and she adjusts her hands around the tea to hold it tightly. Wordless, she stares into the fire and slowly nurses the cup.
His relief is potent. He darts back to his own breakfast and sits on the stone bench next to hers.
Toothless curls at her feet and sits his head in her lap for scratchies, which he is granted albeity distractedly. If Astrid notices him using his long forked tongue to try and reach chunks of the fish on her plate, she doesn’t say anything. There’s a weariness to her features that he can’t help but notice out of the corner of his eye.
They sit in silence for a long time, which is more progress than he’s made with her in the weeks since he returned. He’s scared to say something to pierce the bubble of civility she’s decided to wrap them in, worried that the moment he tries to appeal to her that the ice and thorns will reappear.
Eventually, after Toothless has cleaned off her mostly untouched plate, she tilts the cup in her hands back and forth. “What is this?”
It’s pathetic how quickly he jumps at the question. “Raspberry leaf, alfalfa, and dried ginger.”
Astrid nods, handing the cup back to him. Hiccup’s not sure if that means she’s done or she wants more, but he stands and begins preparing a second.
“I’ve been wondering something,” she begins, resting her elbows on her knees and lacing her fingers together. “If you’d never left Berk, do you think we would’ve been friends?”
The thought causes his hands to slow momentarily, but then he’s able to shake it off. “I hope so.”
The first streak of annoyance crosses her features, informing him that his reply wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “I mean, you were spoiled and obnoxious, but I never disliked you. But would I have liked you? Not just like I liked Snot, but could we have wanted each other there the way we did on our island?”
Something inside his chest swells and overflows at the little word our. Such a tiny, inconsequential word, but it’s the first ray of hope he’s felt in a while. Stepping over Toothless, he presses the cup into her accepting hands and sits with his back to the bench, just a little bit closer to her.
“I used to think about it. Pretend that instead of running from Berk, Toothless and I saved it. And everybody learned to trust dragons, and my dad was proud of me, and you fell madly in love with me. Some nights, I would dream it so vividly– it felt almost real.”
Astrid exhales a short laugh into her tea. “I dreamed that I found the nest and killed them all. There was a feast in my honor, with wine and roast and honey cakes.” Her tone is wry. “There were some winters where the shortages were so bad, I’d wake up chewing on my quilt.”
He breathes his own humorless chuckle. She shakes her head and smooths a hand over her hair.
“I just wonder,” she whispers, eyes closed. “Did our attraction to each other play tricks on us? Were we using each other to pretend we aren’t both irreparably damaged? Was there anything that was real between us?”
Hiccup jerks back, surprised by the sharp pain of her questions. He shouldn’t be surprised. He asked himself those same things over and over after taking her to meet his mother for the first time. They were easy questions to ask before he knew what it felt like to have lost her– possibly forever. Now, it’s almost shocking how wrong they seem.
For a moment, neither of them speak. They watch the fire flickering lowly, with the sound of dragons waking and chattering in the distance.
Hiccup risks shifting to look directly at her. If he reached out his hand, he could just barely touch her. He wants to.
“I didn’t leave because I didn’t want you,” he says slowly and quietly.
Her laced fingers immediately clench. “Don’t.”
“I left because I wanted you more than I thought made sense. Enough to scare me.”
“Hiccup, stop.” Her sigh sounds frustrated, and she sits up, holding out a hand as if she can physically block his words from reaching her.
But he can’t. This is the closest he’s gotten to her in weeks, the most she’s let him speak since he arrived. He feels like he has to blurt it out before the door shuts again and they’re back to frosty silence.
“I’ve spent a long time trying to outrun my past. Things I’ve done, things I’ve seen. I wanted to keep it all in the tailwinds where it can’t hurt me. But you– you, Astrid–” He tries to take her hand, but she pulls away. His own hands curl and flex with nervous energy. “You slammed into me. Made me actually want to be still for a while. And then before I knew it, you weren’t something behind me, you were the only thing in front of me.”
“I can’t do this!” She stands abruptly, almost breaking her cup as she sets it down. Backing away, she stabs a finger at him and glares with watery eyes. “You can’t do this, Hiccup!”
“Please, Astrid, just let me explain!” He’s on his feet too, and Toothless whines in sudden confusion. “I was afraid of slowing down, of stopping, of wanting something I wasn’t guaranteed to keep.”
“I gave you everything! What more of a guarantee did you need?”
A flicker of ire ignites under his skin. “Can you really tell me you would have been happy with that life forever? Forsaking your family, your village, hidden away and always waiting on a cliff for me to come back in one piece? Hiding our identities and never really settling in one place? Can you tell me you wouldn’t have wanted out eventually?”
“I don’t know!”
“And can you swear that I could always protect you from my enemies? I have a lot of them. Can you promise you would be safe? Your child would be safe?” Even the thought reminds him of the trappers in the far distance, creeping closer and closer to their sanctuary. It stirs a panic in him that he can’t stifle.
“I don’t know!” Her voice breaks. She paces like a dragon in a cage, eyes of crystal blazing. “I could forgive you being afraid, because I was terrified the day you left. But how can I trust you, Hiccup? You take our future in your hands and make decisions without stopping to consider how I feel!”
“What do you even mean? I’ve spent weeks considering your feelings, trying to repent, but you cut me off at every turn.”
“Because I want you to know what it’s like!” Tears finally spill onto her cheeks. Without even pausing to wipe them away, she takes a few steps towards him. “To believe that you could love someone if they would just let you!”
He grabs her by the elbows. “Then just let me!”
“I told you, I can’t!” Astrid breaks away, shoulders rising and falling in near hysterics. He wants to chase her as she turns away and crosses the room, but there’s something keeping his boots welded to the floor. For several minutes, they both stand in silence. Catching their breaths and sorting through all the words floating between them.
Then she faces him again. The tears are gone. The door of opportunity has been closed. He can see it in her face, the cold detachment and prickly guardedness. It’s as if a wrought iron door is clattering as it rushes to shut between them.
“Give me the dishes,” she says, “I’ll wash them.”
He wonders if she notices the way she holds her hand close to her body, as if it’s itching to cover her abdomen. She’s worn nothing but baggy clothes while she’s been here, and they hang on her frame. It makes her look even skinnier than before she came, and it leaves him forever wondering about their baby. Is she showing at all? Is she punishing him by hiding? His anxiety could choke him with the way it tightens his throat.
“I’ll do them.” He can hear the defeat in his own voice. “I know how to get the Night Fury spit off anyways.”
Astrid doesn’t argue and leaves without another word.
Boom. The wrought iron door slams down.
Hiccup wonders about his dad a lot. What he’s up to. Where he goes. What he would do or say if he knew it was his son beneath the Dragon Rider’s mask. And damn it– he misses him. Even though Stoick the Vast has become famous for his hatred of dragons, Hiccup still misses him.
It takes everything in him to avoid his father’s house, the Great Hall, anywhere he might see his dad’s giant figure and be tempted to watch for a while. And really, he should wait until it’s darker, until the rest of the island has gone to sleep. The sky is only a purplish navy. But he has time on the mind. He has to be in and out quickly, to get back to the sanctuary before Astrid starts to think he’s abandoned her again. He’ll be in for a world of hurt if she notices he’s gone.
Unsurprisingly, the Hoffersons’ door is unlocked. He’s already been watching the village since before sunset– he knows Calder is down by the pier helping tie up the last few fishing boats to come in. Astrid’s mother entered the house several minutes ago, and she hasn’t shown signs of leaving. Now is the best time to move.
He deliberately makes noise when crawling through Astrid’s bedroom window. It’s much safer than going through the front door or wandering downstairs where Calder could walk in at any moment. And it works. After a moment of pacing heavily across the bedroom floor, he hears rapid steps on the stairs. The door bursts open.
Mrs. Hofferson looks slightly disappointed to see him, but she doesn’t have a weapon this time. She doesn’t immediately scream or alert the neighbors or threaten him bodily harm. Maybe it’s because he’s been here before, and he’s the closest thing she has to news of her daughter. Maybe it’s because he has his facemask flipped up so she can see his eyes.
“I’m human,” he says before she can recover from her surprise. Her blue eyes dart to and fro as she evaluates him, just the way her daughter does when she suspects there might be a threat looming. “I’m not a monster, and I’m not a danger to you or your family.”
“Did you find her?” the woman asks, keeping her voice as low as Hiccup’s. He figures she has just as much to lose if he gets discovered. “Do you have her?”
“Not as a prisoner,” he qualifies. “She’s free.”
Maybe it’s not quite the right thing for him to say. Her brow seems to crumple with hurt and confusion. “She hasn’t come home.”
“She can’t.” Hiccup doesn’t want anyone on Berk knowing about the baby. It’s risky even doing this much. “I can’t tell you everything. But she’s alive, she’s safe, and she misses you. I can prove it to you. But I need something first.”
The Hofferson matriarch keeps her chin up, even as it wobbles. She watches him narrowly. “You’re not what I expected. Not what they say.” After a long moment of staring into his eyes, she must decide that he’s safe enough to cooperate with. She exhales a steadying breath. “Well, then? What could the Lord of Dragons want from our humble home?”
Hiccup feels the corner of his mouth daring to turn upwards. “First, I need your promise this stays between us…”
It’s something he hasn’t done in a long time.
He’s practicing a speech.
“And I promise that from now on… I’ll always be by your side.” Hiccup recites the same words he’s repeated over and over since leaving Berk. He’s reorganized them and rearranged them and eliminated them altogether. He’s written and rewritten a thousand different ways to tell his wife that no matter how many times they argue, no matter how much she despises him, he’s not going anywhere.
He has his gift from her mother stashed safely away, and his heart is thrumming with a nervous energy. With the time spent flying across the archipelago and back, he’s had time to think. And despite all the ways she told him– explicitly and implicitly– that she’s not ready to forgive him yet, she did say one thing.
She might have loved him. Once.
It’s a small thing to hold onto. Barely even mentioned in passing. It’s completely possible that any small amount of affection she held for him once is long gone now. But he’s seen the way his mother’s eyes cloud when she thinks about his dad. He remembers the way his father would reminisce about her. Similarly, if Astrid loved him then, she could love him now. It might not be too late.
At least, that’s the hope that he’s holding onto. That and an envelope from Berk.
It’s after mid-morning when the sanctuary comes into view. He’s relieved to see that there are no strange ships nearby, no nervous-looking dragons. Everything as he left it the day before.
Just as they’re approaching the island, though, something happens. Toothless’ ears prick, twitching this way and that, and he draws up in an alarmed loop-de-loop.
“Whoa!” Hiccup reaches out to touch his dragon’s crown. “What’s going on, bud?” His first, most terrifying thought is that there’s an enemy. An intruder. Someone’s breached the sanctuary.
Toothless whirs and barks in response, ducking with renewed speed to enter the maze of tunnels that make up the sanctuary’s caves. He moves so quickly that his rider’s vision is blurred as he dives through the stone labyrinth. Hiccup can feel the tension and urgency in every flick of the dragon’s wings.
They spill out near the top of the aviary, and a nest of hatchlings scatter at the commotion. Hiccup quickly scans the scenery, but none of the other dragons seem as agitated as his. The Bewildebeast is unphased by their entrance, staring intently into the distance. If there was a trapper here, wouldn’t the dragons know before anyone else? Wouldn’t the alpha have sensed approaching boats?
Toothless jerks in the direction of the Bewildebeast’s gaze, and Hiccup is pulled into flight just as he recognizes a pair of yellow and blue wings. Stormfly.
She’s perched near the alcove that Astrid has made into her room. Hopping back and forth with a frazzled energy, the Nadder screeches and flaps frantically towards the wall. His heart hammers against his breastbone as he watches Stormfly scratch the ground in distress.
Hiccup doesn’t have to say anything– his dragon is already zeroed in on the scene. Terror has frozen his blood in his veins, leaving him cold and numb and afraid.
“Astrid!” he shouts, and he’s tripping out of his saddle before Toothless has even properly touched down. Stormfly reacts by hissing and turning on him, using her wings to block his view.
“Hiccup!” Astrid’s voice calls back, sounding thready and strained. “Stormy, it’s okay, let him by.”
Whether she’s obeying her rider or intimidated by Toothless, the Nadder backs down. Just slightly at first, and then stepping aside so Hiccup can see Astrid sitting on the ground, leaned back against the cave wall. Her shoulders are hunched around her, and there’s sweat glistening on her forehead. When she slowly pushes to her feet, she keeps one hand knotted in the front of her tunic. She’s wincing.
“Astrid, what happened?” He’s immediately at her side, giving her his shoulder to steady her. “Is there somebody here?”
“Where were you?” Her accusation says volumes. She was looking for him. Before he can even answer, though, she asks, “When will Valka be back?”
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I need her,” she insists, letting him lead her over to Toothless. Stormfly’s irate chirping lessens just slightly at the sight of Astrid’s arm hooked around Hiccup’s side. “How far out is she?”
“I don’t know.” The second time he says it sounds even more pathetic. “She could be a couple of days out by dragon by now, maybe less.”
“Frigga,” she swears, looking upwards so she can blink back tears. “I don’t know what to do.”
He shifts her in front of him so that she can lean against his dragon, who is watching with concern and confusion. Hiccup cups her face in one hand and grips her arm with the other. “I’m here. I’m here, Astrid. What happened?”
After a moment of squeezing her eyes shut, clearly trying to not cry, she swallows and exhales slowly. “Something’s wrong,” she says. Her voice shakes. “It feels like– it just hurts. And I’m bleeding. I don’t think I’m supposed to.”
And there it is. His worst fear. Something he can’t protect her from, something he can’t stop. He has no answers, no way to help, and he feels absolutely useless. It’s exactly what he always knew would happen eventually, what he told her he was afraid of.
But there’s something– something else. Maybe something that’s been there forever, or maybe something that just grew there overnight. But it’s a steadiness. A calm that he couldn’t expect.
This is his wife. His child. And all the fear, the shock, the uncertainty that he feels somehow is dampened by the panic in her face. He has to act now, do something, and then he can process his own emotions later. For now, he has to be her husband.
“Here’s what we’re doing,” he begins, hoping his voice isn’t trembling as much as he is. “I’m taking you to the closest village. I’ll send a dragon out for Mom, tell her where we’re going so she can meet us there. Okay?”
Astrid doesn’t argue, doesn’t protest. She holds his eye contact, gaze full of trust, and nods.
“Okay. Now. It’s going to be a few hours’ flight. Do you think you can hang on to me or does Toothless need to carry you?”
He’s going through a checklist in his head: he needs to untie the saddlebags to lighten the load so Toothless can be faster; he needs to write a letter to his mom and find one of her tracking dragons; he needs to get her fur coat and consult his map. His thoughts are racing faster than he can keep up.
“I can manage for a little bit, but I don’t know how long.” In this moment, he can tell she’s forgotten how angry she is at him, how much they’ve fought. She’s holding tight to his shirt and leaning into his arms. “Can you hold me in front? Like the night of the sacrifice?”
“All day and longer,” he promises. When he pries her hand off of his arm, it’s with utmost gentleness and a tinge of regret. “Rest here with Tooth. We’ll be leaving in a minute. I’m sure the baby’s fine.” He’s not, and he hates it, but it seems like the right thing to say.
“You didn’t even want this,” she whispers, and he can see the paranoia slipping into her features, the hurt and the anger. “Why do you care what happens to the baby?”
“Stop.” He squeezes her shoulders and ducks his head to look her straight on. “You’re not doing that to me now. Not when I’m about to do everything in my power to make sure you and our baby are alright. Do you hear me?”
Astrid nods. The doubt in her expression seems to flee. She searches his face. “Our baby?”
He kisses her forehead. Hard. “Ours.”
Such a tiny word.