Under Pressure

Chapter Thirteen: Message From Valhalla

It had to be a trick. An illusion. The vast man's features were blurred with the amount of tears in Hiccup's eyes and try as he might, he could not make them stop. There was an ache in his heart, a desperate longing for this to be true, to be happening.

And then it hit him. It was a dream. Hiccup tended to remember his dreams and often had great fun telling them to his children. But lucid dreams were rare. And this... this was definitely a dream. He could almost feel Astrid's body pressing up against his... but he could also feel the hand on his shoulder. See his father standing next to him.

Stoick reached down and lifted Hiccup to his feet. He was wobbly and something felt distinctly... off. But he couldn't figure out what it was because he wouldn't take his eyes off of his father's face. It was exactly how he remembered it, the wild red hair, the twinkling grayish blue eyes, the wrinkles he had developed in age... Stoick the Vast was standing before him, reaching out from beyond the grave.

How was he supposed to react? He was angry at his father for leaving him just before everything fell apart. He was joyful to be in his presence again. He was completely beaten down yet feeling every bit as hopeful. His conflicting emotions finally bubbled to the surface and he let out a laughing sob and collapsed into his father's arms, not at all caring that this was a dream.

"If I'd have known you'd have this many feelings, I wouldn't have come." Stoick quipped, giving the young man a bone crushing hug that almost hurt as much as the ones he'd received when his father was alive.

Hiccup chuckled weakly, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He wasn't wearing his night shirt. He appeared to be in his green tunic. And as he looked down, he realized with a jolt that not only was he barefoot, he had two feet again. He lifted his left leg and wiggled his toes. It was a bizarre yet oddly familiar sensation.

"Well... that's different." he remarked before turning to look at his father once more. "Dad, I... you're not... how..."

"You needed me." Stoick replied, his voice every bit as gruff and manly yet kind and gentle as always.

"But... this is a dream." Hiccup sniffed and blinked away the last of his tears.

"Yes, son, it is. But whether or not it's a dream doesn't matter. Sometimes all you need to do is say the words you needed to say, whether or not anyone is listening." Stoick kept a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder.

Hiccup wanted to cry again. He wanted to blurt out everything he had been feeling and thinking over the last few days, Hel, the last few weeks but the words wouldn't come. All he could do was stare at Stoick, mouth hanging open. It was like performance anxiety. Like he knew exactly what he would say if he could see his father again but now that he did, his mind was blank.

He looked around at their surroundings. They were in the cove. It was a warm, sunny day, tranquil and peaceful. Probably late in the afternoon. He took a few steps forward, enjoying the sensation of the sand between his toes. All ten of them. Finally, he sat down on a log and stared into the pond. He could see a few fish hopping out of the water, causing ripples on its skin that collided with each other and created tiny waves on the bank. Toothless would love it there but he was nowhere to be found. Hiccup picked up a stick and began to absentmindedly doodle in the sand.

Finally, he looked up at his father, who was now seated next to him. "Why?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. "Why did you have to leave me?"

Stoick patted Hiccup on the back, somehow managing to remember that the young man didn't appreciate being thrown forward into his own doodles. "Sometimes things happen for no reason."

"But I didn't even get to say goodbye." Hiccup muttered, blinking rapidly to push down more tears.

Stoick laughed. It was a wonderful sound that filled the cove and gave Hiccup a tiny spark of pure joy. "It's all right. Goodbyes, they're not all they're cracked up to be."