The Dragon Conquer (A Httyd Fanfiction)

Chapter 17: One month later

(Normal pov)

Everything was fuzzy, and warm, and somewhere between very comfortable and all too stiff and painful.

He wasn't sure if he was dreaming or dead; based on the last thing he could remember it didn't seem all that likely that he was alive. Everything was blurry but it looked like he was in Gothi's hut. There was a warmth at his side and he blearily made out blonde hair spilled over his shoulder.

The front door opened and he saw the large shape of his father enter the room.

Yep. Definitely dreaming. His father held open the door and was followed in by someone tall and thin, feminine, he thought. They turned their head and he saw long auburn braids. Mom?

Nope. Not dreaming. Dead. Definitely dead. He heard talking but couldn't make out the words. He tried to talk, but only a rough, quiet grunt made it past his lips. His mouth felt dry and his tongue too heavy. The figures he could only guess to be his parents turned their heads towards him. There was a shout of what he thought was his name and they came running. None of this could possibly be real, but oh, it would have been so nice if it was. His father's hand large and gentle on his shoulder, his mother gripping one of his hands... Toothless's big green eyes were open and fixed on him. He heard his name again and closest and clearest of all there were Astrid's blue eyes. He tried to hold on to it all, to this nice dream, but already his whole body felt heavy, broken and weak. He thought he heard his name again as darkness pulled him back down into the void.

The dreams continued. Or apparitions, or whatever they were. Sometimes they lasted a few minutes, sometimes only a few seconds. There was almost always someone else there, usually Astrid or one of his parents. Sometimes Gobber. Alvin once, who spoke to Heather to keep him updated. Always Toothless, though. These dreams were always blurry and he never felt like he was fully awake. He never felt like he had much control over his own body. He never had the strength to speak or move more than a couple of fingers.

Every now and again someone would feed him during those dreams. Once, they hauled him up and tried to make him stand. He thought maybe he had, for a moment. Everything was always too hazy to tell.

The times he was most awake, most lucid, were the times when pain would explode somewhere on his lower body. He could never quite identify where. It tore his mind apart, but he could see the most clearly, his limbs felt strongest, he had more control over his voice. Not enough to speak, but enough to yell hoarsely at the burning pain. Those spells never lasted as long as he wanted. He had so many questions, but once the screams started someone was there to force bitter liquid down his throat. It made the pain stop, but it always sent him back into the darkness, back into the dreamless sleep or void or whatever it was he was in.

Maybe he was dead. Maybe these were visions, and the pain and the torture of his family being so close but unreachable was all just Hel punishing him for his sins in life. Even if he went out heroically, Hiccup didn't think he'd done enough good to gain admission to Valhalla. It was alright if he was dead. As long as everyone else was safe: his forces, Ash, Astrid, Toothless... he could be dead. Dying to save them was alright. He could live with that.

Well. He could not-live with that.

(Hiccup's pov)

I groaned in pain as I started to wake up. Really wake up. I sat up and took in my environment; jars of medicine, spices, herbs and other healing properties, a sky light window that kept the cold out, and a small fire pit keeping me from freezing to death. This was definitely Gothi's hut. I laughed hoarsely as I pulled myself into a seating position, I felt surprisingly strong, like the first time waking after a fever had broken.