Every day.
Every day, the same thing happened.
Every day, Mirabel would be hit with a sudden sensation. And the same sequence of events would play out.
The baby resting on the right side of her womb would start feverishly kicking.
This seemed to agitate the baby on the left, who’d then start kicking back.
And the baby in the middle, being jostled by their siblings, would then begin kicking themselves.
At which point Mirabel would be stuck with three babies, all pummeling her insides at once.
It’s been having an effect on her.
Which could be observed in her frazzled appearance, as she sat at the head of the table. Heavy bags under her eyes.
Even as she tried to enjoy her morning meal, the internal altercations continued.
“They’re at it again, huh?” Hiccup worriedly asked, noticing his wife’s disgruntled expression.
To which Mirabel could only tiredly nod.
She loved her children. Before she’d even met them, she loved them deeply.
But she needed them to chill.
From further down the table, Alma nodded with understanding.
“I know how you feel…” She spared an annoyed glance to her own children. “Those three put me through the exact same thing…”
Pepa and Bruno raised swift hands, pointing them across the table.
“He started it!”
“She started it!”
Julieta rolled her eyes, feeling like they were kids again.
She then turned her gaze to her very pregnant daughter, and noticed she had barely touched her food.
“Is something wrong, Mirabel?” She asked, brimming with concern. “You’re carrying triplets, I thought you’d be hungrier!”
The expectant mother eyed her plate with confliction.
“It’s not that I’m not hungry…” She said. “I’m just hungry for…specific stuff.”
A wave of understanding flowed throughout the dining room, for those who’d witnessed or experienced a pregnancy or two.
“Uh-Oh!” Felix laughed. “Craving time!”
Camilo morphed into a chef’s form, and spoke in a haughty voice.
“What’ll it be? Peanut-butter and pickle sandwiches? Chocolate-covered chicken legs?”
The obscene dishes he was suggesting brought grimaces to the family’s faces.
Especially because these were all things she’d actually eaten.
“We’re trying to eat here!” Valentina protested.
Hiccup placed a warm hand on his wife’s arm.
“Whatever it is, I’ll make it!” He said, before adopting a teasing look. “Even if it makes me want to barf!”
But Mirabel had something particular in mind.
“Actually…I was thinking about Berk food.”
All chatter stopped.
A few people even dropped their forks, in surprise.
Everyone present looked to her liked she’d grown a second head.
“Eel soup, specifically.” Mirabel added.
Pepa released a horrified gasp.
“One of those babies must’ve kicked her brain…” Camilo murmured.
For as shocked and honestly appalled Hiccup felt, he understood that pregnancy did some wacky things to a woman’s sense of taste.
And as her loving husband, it was his job to satisfy her craving.
“Not to worry, milady!” He declared, in that phony voice she liked. “You shall dine on Berk’s finest eel soup!”
As the rest of the family wretched in disgust, Mirabel sent him an appreciative smile.
“Gracias, Amor!” She gratefully said. “We can go in- “
But her sentence was cut off by her husband’s frantically shaking head.
“Oh no, no, no! You can’t be flying right now!” He reminded. “You’re nearly eight months pregnant!”
The bespectacled girl gave a huff, and was about to voice a counter argument. But then her father spoke out.
“He’s got a point!” Augustin said, more than a little apprehensive. “Until the babies are here, you’re grounded!”
Mirabel, matriarch of La Familia Madrigal, and incoming mother of three, had just been told that she was grounded.
She couldn’t help but chuckle at the silliness.
Breakfast concluded, and everyone began to head off into town for the day.
Though in a moment, Hiccup would be in a different town.
But before that, he had a very important task.
“Here, let me help!” Hiccup said, dashing to his wife’s side.
At nearly eight months pregnant, with triplets, Mirabel’s middle had greatly expanded.
In fact, it was the biggest belly bump anyone in Casita had ever seen. Except for Alma, who looked upon it with a sense of nostalgia.
The simple act of walking was a bit of a challenge for her now, and she frequently complained about an aching back and sore feet. Though a nibble of her mother’s food usually fixed it up.
Hiccup barely felt comfortable letting her walk around the village. And whenever they were together, he tried to do everything for her.
Much to her annoyance.
“Hiccup, I can get out of a chair!” Mirabel admonished, lightly swatting his hand away.
He backed away, bashfully averting his eyes from her as she stood.
“You’re right, you’re right!” He agreed, holding his hands up in surrender.
“I just…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
When his eyes met hers again, they were glinting with adoration. And a strong sense of duty.
“I’m just trying to take care of you…all of you…”
Mirabel’s hardened expression softened significantly, and she released a sigh.
How could she be mad at him for that?
Standing up, she gently cupped his cheeks with her hands, and brought him in for a light kiss.
They stayed like that for a moment, lost in each other’s gazes.
Before Mirabel grew a smirk.
“I’m really hungry!”
Chuckling, Hiccup figured it was time to get her that soup.
“Toothless!”
At his call, the Night Fury came rushing in from elsewhere in the house. Filled with energy.
But as Hiccup tried to lead him outside, the dragon grabbed his sleeve. And began dragging him somewhere else.
“Woah, woah! Hey!” Hiccup yelped, fighting for control. “Calm down, bud!”
Toothless finally stopped, and looked to his rider with imploring eyes.
“Look, you can show me what you wanna show me when we get back.” Hiccup said. “Right now, we have a very important mission!”
While seeming a bit reluctant, the dragon gave an affirmative chuff.
Hiccup leaned down, and pulled a crank on the dragon’s tail. Switching it from automatic mode, to manual mode.
This way, the dragon could fly on his own if needed. There was even a way for him to activate it himself, if the situation called for it.
With that taken care of, the man and his dragon made for the courtyard. Before they took off into the air, in search of soup.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Stoick heard he was going to be a grandfather, he was happy.
When Stoick heard he was going to be a grandfather of three, he was overjoyed.
“Three new Viking warriors, to add to the proud Haddock lineage!” He had declared.
Valka was over the moon as well, and was trying her best to get reacquainted with handling children. She wanted to be involved in her grandbabies’ lives.
She could change a diaper with the best of them.
Stoick in particular was very invested in the naming process.
Now that he knew that a trio of tots was on the way, he had basically begged his son and daughter-in-law to give at least one of them a Berkian name.
And he was currently doing this as Hiccup made his way to the Great Hall.
“I know you’re probably looking at Colombian names…” The bearded man spoke one of those words with uncertainty, it felt foreign on his tongue.
“But those children are Haddocks! At least one of them should be given a name that reflects their heritage!”
“You mean their Colombian heritage?” Hiccup asked, sarcastically.
This earned him a snort from his father.
“The other half of their heritage…” He clarified.
As they stepped through the breezy village, flanked by their dragons, Hiccup couldn’t deny that the man had a point.
It wasn’t like he was ashamed of being a Viking. He shouldn’t have an issue with one or more of his children having a Berkian name, in theory.
But Berkian names tended to be really dumb.
The man was saddled with the name Hiccup, he knew exactly what having such a strange name felt like. Especially in a land where that wasn’t part of the culture.
It wasn’t like he was afraid of gnomes or trolls, either.
He wasn’t calling any child of his something like Dogsbreath, or Thuggory.
“I’ve been thinking of a few myself!” Stoick said. “Some strong, Viking names!”
“…Like Fartmuncher!”
It took every bit of strength in Hiccup’s body to not break down with laughter. The strangled wheeze he released was evidence of the cackles that were fighting to escape.
Seemingly ignorant to the hilarity of the situation, the chief had some business to attend.
“I’ve got to meet with Astrid, continue her training.” He said. “She’s shaping up to be a fine chief!”
He then began reaching for something he had tucked into his belt.
And when he retrieved it, Hiccup realized just how serious his dad was about this.
Because he pulled out a book.
And Vikings never read.
“I’ve found a book of names, recorded since our earliest days on this island…” He spoke, in a strangely sincere tone.
“Just…give it some thought.” He requested.
And as he stomped off, Hiccup ogled the little book in his hands. More of a pamphlet, really.
And with a shrug, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to look it over.
Though first, he had some soup to acquire.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sitting on the grass, in the backyard. Feeling the winds wash over them, observing the swaying palm trees, and listening to the birds sing their songs.
This is where Mirabel spent her afternoon break. Slurping up her eel soup with vigor, as her husband was nose deep in a book.
They’d already thought of some names, for their babies. They had some solid candidates for both girls and boys, and one male option they were unanimously nuts about.
But they were all Hispanic names. Names that corresponded to Mirabel’s culture.
These children would be the bridge, between both their worlds. One of the names should represent that.
If they could find a good one, that is.
Hiccup rattled off names, each one sounding more ridiculous than the last.
“Let’s see…we’ve got Clueless, Squidface, Baggybum…”
“Nope, nope, and nope.” Mirabel responded, before suckling more soup.
“Uh…Hogwash, Gutpunch, Slimebandit…”
The bespectacled girl faced him with an incredulous expression.
“You’re lying!” She insisted. “You’re making these up!”
From the look he was giving her, she knew he wasn’t.
Hiccup perked up a bit as he continued reading.
“There’s Zephyr. Or what about Nuffink?”
Mirabel hummed with thought. Those didn’t sound so bad…
And then Hiccup saw something odd.
There was a blotch of black, where a name should be. As if it was hastily covered up, to conceal a horrible truth.
Underneath the scribble, were small words. Ones he had to squint to decipher.
“This name, while once enjoying decent popularity amongst girls in the tribe, was soon deemed unfit for the Berkian way of life...” He read aloud.
“It was too powerful. A name so mighty, so terrible, that it could kill a man with just it’s utterance. Too many of our finest warriors were lost, to this name. And as our greatest foes, the dragons, continue to raze our village, we have decided that such a name must be outlawed.”
There was one last sentence, in this strange little tangent.
“Though if you truly wish to learn of this forbidden name, flip to the last page. Bottom right corner...” He read. “…And may Odin have mercy…”
Hiccup and Mirabel eyed each other with bursting curiosities.
A forbidden name? A name that petrified even the most headstrong of Vikings?
They had to learn what it was.
Hiccup flipped through the pages, their minds filling with thoughts of truly atrocious monikers.
He reached the final page, and prepared himself to see the most awful of Viking names. Something that’d make his skin crawl, his eyes water, and give him a pounding headache.
And when his eyes drifted to the bottom right corner of the last page, they widened with shock.
Mirabel fidgeted in anticipation.
“What? What is it?”
The terrible name.
The name that had supposedly ended lives.
The name so destructive it had to be banned, was…
“…Peep.”
Mirabel heavily questioned if what she heard was real.
“What was that?” She asked.
“The forbidden name…” Hiccup softly confirmed. “It’s Peep.”
The couple stared at each other, baffled looks on both faces…
Before they exploded with laughter. Rolling on the grass in their hysterics.
Of course.
Of course the Berkians would fear such a sweet little name.
It made no sense. Meaning it was perfectly in character for them.
“Goggletoad is okay, but Peep? Oh no! That’s a step too far!” Hiccup sniggered.
“What’s wrong with it?” Mirabel asked. “How is that supposed to strike fear into the hearts of men? It’s cute!”
But as their laughter died down, a thought wouldn’t quite leave their minds.
It was kind of cute…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Toothless had something to show them.
The dragon was absolutely insistent on dragging Hiccup and Mirabel somewhere. Pulling them away from whatever they were in the middle of, no matter how important it may be.
“It wasn’t like I was discussing the town’s infrastructure or anything…” Mirabel sarcastically said. “By all means, drag me away to play fetch…”
But fetch wasn’t what the dragon had in mind.
Hiccup and Mirabel were taken to their own room, into that sizeable side area where their dragons resided.
Mariposa was there, as well as Antonio. The both of them staring at something with wonder.
The couple gave each other a confused glance, wondering what they were looking at. But an impatient huff from Toothless earned their attention.
He lightly stamped his foot, and gestured onwards with his head.
Whatever it was, he really wanted them to see it.
And so they stepped forth, their feet crossing over to where wood became fluffy hay and straw. Toothless tapping his paws in excitement, as they got closer and closer.
Antonio noticed their approach, and faced them with a wide smile.
“You’re gonna want to see this!” He implored. “It’s amazing!”
They both looked to see Nubless, curled up on the ground.
Her tail was wrapped around herself, and she was looking down at something with great love in her eyes.
But Nubless wasn’t the subject of their gawking. It was what she held.
Slowly and gently, she moved her tail away from her body. Allowing her huma friends a view of what she was hiding.
And what they saw made them gasp.
Lined up in a neat little row, and placed against the Light Fury’s body for warmth and protection-
Were eggs.
Three eggs. With deep black shells, speckled with white spots.
They immediately understood.
Toothless was going to be a dad.
“Night Lights!” Mirabel squealed, using the term she herself coined.
“We’re both gonna be dads!” Hiccup said to his dragon, amazement in his tone. “We’re both gonna be parents at the same time!”
Toothless shared in their enthusiasm, though he tried very hard not to bounce around with the fragile eggs nearby.
Mariposa gave her friend a congratulatory trill, while Antonio was pondering the species name.
“Night Light?” He pondered. “I was thinking Day-and Night Fury, or maybe 24-Hour Fury…”
“But yours is easier to say.” He shrugged.
Toothless gently plodded forward, sniffing at his eggs. Paternal adoration, already present in his gaze.
But then, he did something odd.
He nudged the eggs a few times with his snout, before backing away. And nudging Mirabel’s sizeable belly bump.
“That’s right! We’re all gonna be parents!” Mirabel cheerily said.
But the Night Fury shook his head. That wasn’t the point he was trying to make.
After a few grunts and warbles, Antonio’s eyes shot open with glee.
“He says…he wants them to be friends!” The boy translated. “Both your kids!”
The dragon gave an affirmative snort.
And their hearts melted.
Where did this reptile get off? Being such a sweetheart?
But by sheer coincidence, there were three babies, and three eggs.
If each kid bonded with each dragon, and they formed a little gaggle of pals, well…
They wouldn’t complain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Night had fallen, and everyone in the house was retiring for the night. Marching down the hallway in nightgowns and sleepwear, ready the end the day and start another.
When Hiccup entered his room, he saw that Mirabel was already in bed. Sitting up, as she usually did. Lying down had become a bit of a challenge, thanks to her three passengers.
But what surprised Hiccup the most, was that she was crying.
And she was really crying, tears and mucus dripping down her face. Her features scrunched in her misery.
He was at her side immediately, sliding onto the bed and placing an arm on her hand.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” He frantically asked.
She shook her head.
“I-It’s nothing!” She tried to deny, straining to put a smile on her face. “Just…crazy mood swings!”
But Hiccup could tell.
Even if her pregnancy was enhancing the emotion, something was really worrying her.
He didn’t say anything more, but he gave her a look.
A look that said he wanted to hear what was troubling her, even if it was the silliest thing in the world. He wanted to be there for her.
And she couldn’t deny that request.
“I was just thinking…” She sniffled, while rubbing her tummy. “About what it'll be like, when they get their gifts…”
Hiccup handed her a tissue, as she continued. Just listening to her get her emotions out.
“And then I started thinking about my own gift ceremony. Watching my door disappear, all the screaming and yelling, and I remember just crying. Just crying until I fell asleep in my mother’s arms. And then I woke up crying…”
“And that day led to ten years of suffering! Ten years of being not good enough for my own family!” She snapped, with a sudden anger. Hiccup actually flinched back.
Though the anger faded just as quickly as it came.
“Things are different now, obviously. But…” The sadness returned in full force. “I-I don’t want them to go through that!”
“I don’t want them to see their door go away! I don’t want to see the light in their eyes die! I-I don’t want to have to hold them while they cry themselves to sleep!”
“I never what them to feel like they’re not good enough! I never want them to feel what I felt!”
And then she broke down into tears. The mixture of maternal concern, past trauma, and her heightened emotions leading to this reaction.
Hiccup held her close, letting her crying stain his clothes.
And he spoke two simple words.
“They won’t.”
Her sniffling ceased for just a moment, to allow her to ask a question.
“Huh?”
Hiccup backed away from the embrace, to lock eyes with her.
“The magic was saved because of you. The family was brought back together because of you. Miss Abuela changed her mind because of you. You single-handedly ensured our kids won’t go through what you did.”
“And besides…” He began. “We’re not gonna repeat our families’ mistakes.”
“These kids, all three of them, are never gonna feel like they aren’t good enough. They’ll never feel useless. They’ll never feel like hiccups. Gifts or no gifts.”
In that moment, he made a promise.
“Every day, we’ll remind them of just how special they are. Of how loved they are. How our family, our home, would be incomplete without them.”
“We’re gonna give them what we needed, in our darkest moments…”
The sheer determination in his gaze wasn’t just unwavering, it was awe-inspiring.
The resolve of a parent, wanting to make a better world for his children.
She wholeheartedly agreed with his resolution.
While Mirabel was still crying, it had lessened significantly. She managed a weepy smile, and a little nod.
They embraced again. And at that moment, the babies started their little kicking fight once more.
But instead of finding it annoying, it only served to raise Mirabel’s spirits.
This was her family.
Not her whole, entire family. But a little branch on the tree, one of her creation. It was hers and hers alone.
Her loving husband, and her rambunctious kids.
The five of them, together.
That’s how she always wanted things to be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the days went on, La Casa Madrigal got whipped into a baby fever.
Soon Mirabel was at a solid eight months, meaning they had just a few more weeks to prepare for their new arrivals.
And triple the babies, meant triple the preparations.
Three times the baby clothes, three times the bottles, three times the diapers, three times the toys…
Manny’s old bed was removed from the nursery, the boy himself levitating it out. And a new crib was put in its place.
Two-year old Sofia eyed it with fascination, eagerly anticipating her new roommates. But Diego sent it a harsh glower.
Manuel chuckled at his little brother’s frustration.
“It’s your turn now!” He said, with a sense of schadenfreude.
After years of listening to crying and whining and babbling while just trying to sleep…
It seemed the baby shoe was on the other foot.
Hiccup was asking the other fathers in the house a lot of questions. Perhaps too many questions.
“How do you know if it’s a burp cry, a poop cry, or a hungry cry?” “How much sleep should they get? How much sleep should I get?” “What do you do if they pee in your eye?”
He didn’t mean any harm, but as the big day was just weeks away, he was starting to grow anxious.
He’d even attempted to baby-proof Casita, much to the building’s offense. It was made to be safe, it was already baby-proof!
Mirabel was torn between wistfulness and eagerness.
She caressed her bulbous belly, feeling the little things moving around inside. Sometimes it seemed like they responded to her touch, and she’d always giggle with amazement.
She was going to miss this, in a way. Pregnancy was an indescribable experience.
But she was also sick of the little rascals treating her bladder like a punching bag, so she was ready for them to go.
“The day these guys are outta me can’t come soon enough…” She groaned, as she reclined in her seat. Once again, her insides were being subject to their torment.
“Hopefully not too soon, though!” Hiccup chuckle, as she voiced these thoughts to him. “I came early into this world, and let me tell you. That brings a whole host of problems…”
And then he continued rubbing her aching feet.
Everyone knew that their already hectic lives were about to be hit with a dose of messy, noisy chaos. Multiplied by three.
And while they were ready for it, they were ready to welcome their newest kin with open and loving arms…
They were also going to enjoy the peaceful time they had left.
One month.
One month until the babies were set to arrive.
…
Or so they thought…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“…Hiccup.”
It was a whisper, barely even audible.
There was no response.
“Hiccup.”
This one was a bit louder, but as her husband was currently still drooling on his pillow, he clearly didn’t hear.
Finally, Mirabel decided she needed to be a bit more forceful.
“Hiccup!” She exclaimed, while shaking him out of his slumber.
His groggy eyes peered open, the last remnants of his dream fading from his sight.
“Huh…wh-wha…?”
It was the early morning, the sun hadn’t even risen yet, and so he was wondering why he was risen.
Mirabel responded in an even tone, despite the circumstances. Answering his question with three words.
“My water broke.”
…
…In his drowsy state, barely even registering the world around him, Hiccup’s sleep addled mind could only manage one response.
“Then go fix it…”
And then he rolled back over, ready to return to resting.
But then his eyes shot open, and his waking brain fully understood just what she was saying.
He jolted up, already sweating profusely, and looked to her with an alarmed expression.
“WHAT!?” He asked. “Y-You’re not due for another month!”
Mirabel was already breathing heavily, and she could feel the contractions working their way into her body.
“Tell that to them!” She huffed, gesturing to her stomach.
Panic overtook every crevice of Hiccup’s mind.
The babies were coming.
The babies were coming and they were coming early.
This is not good.
Not good not good very bad not good trouble big trouble not good not-
“HICCUP!”
His wife’s shouting brought him back to reality.
“The plan! Remember the plan!”
Their delivery plan, of course.
They’d discussed it multiple times, over the last eight months.
They’d opted for a home birth, which was a popular option for the Madrigals. They felt it encouraged an immediate connection with the magical house, as well as the rest of the family.
As such, Julieta was actually quite experienced when it came to delivering babies.
Which meant one thing for Hiccup.
Get Julieta.
“Be right back!” He frantically spoke, tripping off their bed.
Tumbling to a stand, he sprinted for the door. Which Casita opened for him, as well as flipping the lights. Both in the room, and the hallway.
He ran as fast as his legs, both flesh and metal, would take him. Skidding to a stop outside his adoptive mother’s bedroom door.
He wasted no time on pounding on the door, as loudly and as rapidly as possible. Which served to awaken and agitate the other sleeping members of his family.
The Madrigals peeked out of their bedrooms, scowls on every face.
“Would you cool it, man?” Camilo asked. “Some of us like sleeping!”
“Do you have any idea how early it is?” Isabela demanded.
Hiccup faced them with trembling pupils.
“BABIES!” He screamed. “Babies coming! Coming now! Babies!”
And every scowl was replaced with a look of shock.
As he said this, Julieta finally opened up.
Having heard his cries, she and Augustin regarded him with wide eyes.
“The…the babies are coming?” The healer softly asked.
To which her adoptive son feverishly nodded his head in confirmation.
And just like that, Julieta was in action mode.
She stormed out of the room, heading straight for Mirabel’s. Barking orders all the while.
“Luisa! Fill a tub with warm water. Not hot, not cold, warm!” “Isabela, bring us some towels!” “Augustin, get the good pillows!”
The way she took charge was honestly astounding. Child birth was serious business, and she obviously took it as such.
She turned to the rest of her family, all standing around with slack jaws.
“Either head to your rooms, or wait in the living room. But no one disturbs Mirabel until I say so, got that?”
The power in her tone demanded nods, and only nods.
As the others went to carry out her commands, she faced the quaking man beside her.
“And you…you’re coming with me.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hours.
Mirabel’s been in terrible pain for hours.
She knew labor took a while, but it was a totally different experience when you were enduring it.
The magic food only helped a bit. After a while, the contractions would start feeling terrible again.
She was in her mother’s room, which served as the place where home births happened. Thanks to its easy access to healing food, and a decent amount of medical equipment.
Julieta even had a designated chair for it, its design long and flat, which she kept tucked in a closet for moments like this.
Mirabel lied on this chair, a teal blanket over her body, and an array of heavenly pillows tucked under her. Both to prop her up, and for comfort.
With her husband’s hand being crushed by her own, she tried to keep her breathing steady. Even as contractions quaked through her body.
“You’re doing great!” Hiccup reassured, before sneaking a glance to Julieta.
“Is she doing great?” He quietly asked, unsure.
The woman didn’t respond, instead keeping her eyes in between her daughter’s legs.
With a scrutinizing glance, she’d seen all she needed to see.
“Mirabel, it’s time.”
The woman’s grip on Hiccup’s hand loosened a bit, while she considered the statement.
“It’s…time?” She repeated.
Her mother looked up from her work, with a gentle, but steadfast expression.
“It’s time to start pushing.”
At first, Mirabel was hit with a wave of glee.
Her babies!
It was time to meet her babies!
But then it was washed away by a surge of uncertainty.
She was supposed to have an entire month to finish preparing!
She wasn’t ready!
“W-Wait…I don’t-I don’t know if I- “
A squeeze of her hand brought her attention to her husband.
“You can do this.”
“I know it’s scary…but you’re not alone..” He whispered. “It’s me and you…always…”
He gave her a small, but determined smile.
“Now let’s meet our kids!”
She gawked at him, covered in sweat and leaking a few pained tears.
But despite this, she grew a small, shaky grin of her own. And nodded.
Julieta would’ve liked to admire the beautiful moment, but now wasn’t the time.
“Alright, Mija. First push on three!”
“One…”
Mirabel braced herself, gritting her teeth.
“Two…”
Her grip on Hiccup’s hand became impossibly tight, but he didn’t raise any complaints.
“Three!”
Again and again, she used all the waning power her body could muster to deliver the first of her children into the world.
“Keep pushing!”
Even as her legs quaked and quivered, even when it felt like her teeth would break from how she was grinding them, she gave it her all.
All the while, Hiccup muttered soothing words into her ear. Peppering her soaking forehead with kisses, and pushing her dripping hair out of her eyes.
“I can see the head!”
These words gave Mirabel a burst of motivation.
With an extra jolt of strength, and a final grunt of exertion, she pushed with all her might.
…
And there was crying.
In Julieta’s hands, there was a whining, wriggling thing. Where there wasn’t before.
Shrill cries were released from its little mouth, not a single tooth to be found inside.
Smiling with a newly born grandmotherly adoration, Julieta cleaned the little thing off. And cut the cord.
Hiccup and Mirabel stared in an awestruck silence, as the woman wrapped the thing in a little sky-blue blanket.
She placed it gently into Hiccup’s arms, and he held it as if it was the most fragile thing in the world.
It had pale skin, marked with freckles. And a shock of frizzy red hair lied on its head, reminiscent of its paternal grandfather.
Feeling it squirm in his grasp, Hiccup released a laugh of pure wonder.
This was their child.
This was their firstborn child.
There were two more babies to go, and Julieta quickly got back to work.
But before she urged her daughter to begin pushing again, she dispensed a crucial piece of information.
“It’s a…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“It’s a girl!”
Cheers rang out from the living room, though there were some groans of disappointment.
Here in the early hours of the day, the sun peeking over the horizon, every Madrigal was sat on various couches and chairs. Some were even on the floor.
Dolores stood in the center of the room, relaying what she heard from the ongoing process upstairs.
This was for a very important reason.
They were placing bets.
Bets on whether the triplets would be three boys, three girls, two boys and a girl, or two girls and a boy.
Those who bet on three boys, namely Felix and Valentina, were out of the game.
“That’s at least one girl confirmed!” Camilo announced, as he made his way to his chart.
A large piece of paper, with an assortment of dots lined up on it. Three blue circles, three pink circles, two blue circles and a pink circle, and two pink circles and a blue one.
He crossed out the three blue circles with a pencil, and eagerly awaited the next bit of news.
After a short time, when the birds had begun chirping, Dolores perked up again.
With a small smile, she gave them the good news.
“It’s a boy!”
That took anyone who bet on three girls out. To the disappointment of Isabela, Augustin, and Dolores herself.
All that remained was two boys and one girl, or two girls and one boy.
This was it, the final child. This would decide everything.
All eyes were locked onto her, everyone desperate to know which group would come out victorious.
With her head tilted upwards, towards her aunt’s room, she listened for the last push.
She heard grunting, panting, words of encouragement, crying from the other children, and a rather squelchy pop.
And at last, she had their answer.
“It’s another girl!”
Three people in particular broke into joyous shouts.
Alma, Pepa, and Bruno. They’d bet on two girls and a boy. Julieta had, as well.
Everyone else thought the odds weren’t very high for a repeat of the first set of triplets, but not the ones who started it all. They all had a gut feeling.
And that gut feeling was correct.
“Just like us!” Pepa cheerfully said, shaking her brother by his shoulders.
A rainbow appeared in the room soon after. Each shade glowing vibrantly.
Camilo crossed the last group off the list with a grin.
“And that’s the game!” He said. “It’s two girls and a boy, folks! Thanks for playing!”
The mild disappointment from the losing teams faded shortly after, and everyone broke into celebrations.
It was earlier than expected, but there were three new babies in their family. Three new Madrigals. Three new blessings in their lives.
But the cheering died down, when they noticed Dolores’ smile had fallen.
She was listening intently, a concerned glint in her big eyes.
“S-Something’s not right…” She whispered.
“The last baby…”
“She isn’t crying.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Toothless and Mariposa were stationed outside Julieta’s door. Sitting loyally close to where their rider’s resided.
They’d heard the first two cries, and knew what they meant. They both fidgeted excitedly, knowing their friends had produced strong and healthy children.
But something was off with the third one.
They heard her come out, they heard Julieta announce her gender. But they didn’t hear any crying.
They also heard the worried voices of those in the room.
“W-Wait, she’s not crying…” Hiccup noticed, fear worming into his tone. “Why isn’t she crying?”
Mirabel, already haggard from such an experience, was growing quite panicked.
“Mom? Sh-She’s okay, right?” She asked.
Julieta didn’t say anything. She poked and prodded the child in her arms, trying to get some sort of reaction, but the baby did nothing.
“What’s wrong with her? What’s wrong with my baby!?” The new mother frantically questioned, fearing for her child’s life.
Julieta wished she had the answer, but she didn’t. An anxious glint in her usually gentle eyes.
The tension in the room was heavy, everyone felt like a weight had been placed on their lungs.
They kept their eyes locked on the child, as she lied in the blankets. Eerily still.
From outside, the concerned dragons had nudged the door open. Trying to get a peek at what was going on.
Toothless saw the baby in Julieta’s arms, the scarily quiet baby, and he was reminded of something.
Sometimes, baby dragons are too lazy to hatch from their eggs. If all their siblings are cracking open their shells, but one egg remains suspiciously stagnant, there’s a simple solution.
Scream at it.
A reverberating roar or bellow will shock the hatchling awake, and remind it that its time to break into the world.
Perhaps his friends’ child just needed a wakeup call.
Planting his feet firmly on the ground to steady himself, the dragon mustered up all the air his lungs could possibly inhale…
And released a positively cacophonous shriek. One that seemed to rattle the foundations of the very house they stood in.
Portraits and photos shook on walls, furniture rumbled, and everyone in the building hurried to cover their ears.
But Hiccup couldn’t, as he currently had two babies in his arms.
The noise agitated the babies, and soon they started crying.
All three of them.
The three people in the room all looked to the bundle in Julieta’s arms, as she finally began to whimper and whine. Breathing for the first time.
Sighs and laughs of relief were had, and Hiccup even released a thankful tear.
He spared his dragon a grateful glance.
“You never cease to amaze me, bud!”
Down in the living room, everyone resumed celebrating. Despite their stinging ears.
Simply happy that this day hadn’t ended in tragedy.
And now that they were all here, their cords cut and their bodied wrapped in cool-colored blankets…
It was time for Hiccup and Mirabel to meet their children.
The oldest child was a girl. With pale, freckled skin like her father. She had deep brown eyes, and a wild shock of frizzy red hair.
Even now, shortly after birth, she was weakly kicking her little legs from within her blanket.
“It was you!” Mirabel realized. “You’re the kicker!”
The little instigator was given the name Karla Madrigal.
The middle child was their only son. His skin tone identical to his mother’s, with a scruff of similarly curly dark hair. And deep brown eyes.
He was the quickest to stop crying, and settled into a comfortable sleep. Relaxed by the sound of his mother’s heartbeat.
They’d already decided on the perfect name for a boy.
The baby was named Pedro Madrigal, to honor a great man.
And their final baby, the one who nearly gave them a heart attack, was another girl.
The darkest of her siblings, with a complexion resembling her eldest aunt. Wisps of black hair adorned her head.
She settled down from her crying a bit after being woken up, but she hadn’t fallen asleep like her brother. She was constantly looking around, eyeing the strange new world around her.
Despite the darkness of her other features, her eyes were a bright pine green. Just like her dad.
She was given a Berkian name. One that would truly strike fear into the hearts of men.
She was Peep Madrigal.
Already, Hiccup and Mirabel were head over heels in love.
With Karla and Pedro in Mirabel’s arms, and Peep in Hiccup’s, they just couldn’t take their eyes off their children. Not even for a second.
“They’re perfect…” Hiccup whispered. “All of them…”
Mirabel met the squirming things with a bright smile.
“Hola! I’m your Mama!”
In response, Karla kicked again. Which made her giggle.
It was just so amazing.
The emotions rushing through them were almost too much to bear.
These were their babies.
They were so small, and fragile.
But they were strong enough to thrive, despite how early they'd come. Both their parents knew that for certain.
These were Hiccup and Mirabel's children.
Their little hatchlings.
Their little caterpillars.
This was their family.
Not their whole, entire family. But their own little branch on the tree.
They didn’t know just what life had in store for them next, they never did.
But no matter what, the five of them were going to be together.
Always.
…
And then they smelled something.
“…We should get them in diapers.” Mirabel suggested.
Hiccup, who was holding the culprit, vehemently agreed.