Good morning (at least for Pacific lads and lasses)! Happy Saturday, and have a good week, everybody.

Chapter Twenty-Six: A Moon-Long Dream

She smelled flowers. Taking deep, delicious breaths, Astrid felt the rare tickle of pollen on her nose, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her head fall to the side. Something brushed against her cheek and she slowly brought her hand to it. She peeled her eyes open and blurry visions turned into sharp sights of grass. She watched the grass shift in the wind gently before she sat up slowly.

She was back in Berk. Not in the village, but she was definitely in Berk. The grass was long and she combed her fingers through it slowly, smiling at the softness of it, the healthiness of it. It felt fresh, edible, beautiful. She looked around at the familiar place around herself and pushed herself onto her feet. She turned in a slow circle and took it all in: the water on the far side of the area looked crystal clear and inviting, and beyond that were tall walls covered in tangles of vines that let lush leaves break away and fly in the gentle breeze. This felt safe. This felt like home.

The cove was where some of the biggest moments in her life had happened. She met Toothless here, and he would change her life, her whole outlook on dragons. She took away her innocence here, just behind that boulder. She fought with Hiccup in front of that big tree with those rocks just at the trunk, lightly dusted in soft moss. Everything was there, as it should be, as it was meant to be.

She felt the tickle of her hair down her back, and found herself almost naked, her hair free and her skin clean and soft. She ran her hands through it and sighed loudly, delightfully. This didn't phase her. It calmed her, it embraced her, it became a part of her. She opened her eyes slowly and glanced at the rays of sunlight breaking through the evergreen trees at the top rim of the cove. Shadows danced over her arms and face and she hummed at the warm feeling of it.

She let her gaze fall down and she found herself looking at people, people who weren't there before.

Her throat caught for a moment at the sight of a broad man sitting at the edge of the pond. His blonde and bushy beard fell over his massive chest, his brown eyes looking into the water with a calm interest. He wore a formal shirt, tight over his thick arms, and the wrinkles that peppered his face made him look majestic. Astrid let her mouth fall open and she took a step towards him.

"Dad?" she asked, barely above a whisper. The man blinked and looked over. He looked at Astrid and squinted slightly, his mouth falling open as she slowly walked to him. He jumped to his feet and rushed over. He held his hands out to her and hesitated, just feet apart from each other.

"How?" he asked quickly. "Where – no, it can't be, I –"

Astrid couldn't contain herself. She leapt into his arms and he crushed her. It was all coming back, now. The smell of his skin, the sound of his voice, the way he held her over her shoulders so she would have to try to wrap her arms around him.

"How are you here?" he asked, his face buried in her hair. Astrid pulled away.

"I… I don't know. What is this place?"

Her father looked around and shrugged. "It's… it's a crossroads," he said tentatively. "An in-between."

Astrid blinked. "You mean I'm dead?"

Her dad looked over her and wrinkled her brow. "I don't think so. I mean, I certainly hope you're not, but if you were dead, you'd know it."

It all came back to her in a rush. "The dart. No, I got hit by some sort of dart… by Birdsong. And if it didn't kill me, then I guess it put me under slumber. But I've never been here before."

Astrid huffed and looked around again as her father crossed his arms and hummed in his chest. "I think it may be your blood."

She looked over and raised her eyebrows. Her father nodded as he thought about the possibility. He sat again at the side of the pond and Astrid followed. "You know of the dragon's blood," she stated. "I had a friend who told me that dragons can sometimes visit Valhalla in their dreams." Astrid looked around herself in awe. "I mean… that's the only thing that comes to mind…" She knelt against his shoulder and sighed. "So… I'm dreaming."

"You're definitely not awake, dear."

"But I'm not dead?"

"No… I'd know you were coming if you were."

Astrid shifted and turned so she was facing him better. "But you know where I am. Physically?"

Her father looked down at his hands and stayed still for a moment. His shoulders sank and he nodded gently.

Astrid pursed her lips and watched him watch his hands.

"Believe me, if I could get you out of there, I would," he said.

"I know you would."

Her father sighed shakily and he swallowed the lump in his throat. Astrid fiddled with a blade of grass between her fingers. But around her, shadows formed and became images. Something caught her eye and she peered over. Her father looked over as well and smiled a tight smile.

Sigourney, his wife and Astrid's mother, sat leaning against a tree. Her curly blonde hair cascaded around her body as she played with a blue bracelet tied around her wrist. Astrid's voice made a strangled sound. Her father put his hand over hers, still playing with the blade of grass, and gave it a squeeze. She wanted to say something. But another shadow formed next to Sigourney over the water. Snowdrop shimmered into sight next to her mother, although they didn't notice each other, and played in a mud puddle, giggling and laughing. Astrid felt her throat tighten and tears sprung to her eyes.

"Mum? Snowdrop?"

"They won't hear you if you speak," her father murmured. "We can only watch."

Crying, Astrid looked over to her dad. "Why? I can talk to you, why can't they hear me?"

"I'm dead," he said simply. "And they are merely dreaming."

"They're alive? Snow – Snowdrop, too? And mum?"

Her father smiled again. "No Hofferson goes down easily, child."

Snowdrop was alive. Astrid put a hand over her mouth as if her heart would leap out of her body and into her palm. But Snowdrop was alive, and that's all that mattered in the moment. She was alive and her dreams were happy and she looked healthy… and her mother was, too. She was still out there, wandering the world, probably looking for her daughters. It was the first ray of light Astrid had since the battle.

She heard a twig break behind her. Astrid and her father turned and gazed upon another woman as she wandered around the cove. Astrid furrowed her brow as she noticed Rose and she touched the walls of the cove gingerly. Why would Rose be there?

"That's the girl who saved your life?" her father asked.

Astrid pursed her lips. "Yes… but I don't know why she'd be here."

"Your dreamland is filled with people who used to matter to you, who matter to you now, and who has yet to matter to you. And then there are people who… may not mean anything to you at all."

Astrid groaned quietly. "That's a lot of people."

"Exactly. See, your family is here. And the girl who saved you. Sometimes other people come and go. Other times, they stay for your eternity. Maybe you never know someone you see here because their role in your life is so minuscule… but they are still here."

Astrid wiped away the drying tears from her cheeks. Her father gave her shoulder a rub.

"Go explore it, darling."

She looked at him, unsure. But he gave her a push and she was on her feet. She hesitantly walked. She felt awkward moving for no particular reason, but she wandered around anyway. And the more she moved, the more shadows she saw, and they morphed into familiar and unfamiliar faces. People she expected – Stoick, Gobber, Gothi – appeared and disappeared, and people she had yet to meet caught her attention. A man with a fire-scarred face waded into the pool and floated on his back, staring at the sky. A woman with light brown hair and pale skin sat at the boulder where Astrid had used the knife on herself, weaving something yet to be noticed out of tiny pieces of grass and sticks and straw. Birdsong even appeared, standing at the very edge of the cove, arms crossed and eyes closed as if she had a headache.

But she didn't care for any of that right now. The person that she wanted to see more than anyone was no where to be found. Hiccup didn't appear from any of the shadows. He just wasn't there. Her father must have sensed that. He straightened his back and licked his lips, rubbing the corner of his eye.

"Your Hiccup hasn't been sleeping lately," he said.

Astrid paused and looked around again as if he'd show up from a shadow she hadn't checked yet. "But I've seen everybody," she argued. "People I don't even want in my dreamland are here and gone."

"Only when they're sleeping do they show," he replied. "And time… time is so different here. Your mother and Snowdrop only faded away moments ago, yet the sun is peaking in their world. Some people have already reappeared from sleeping, waking, and sleeping again."

Astrid balked. "But that's – I mean – so if Hiccup is not here, and hasn't been here this whole time –"

"That's two days of not sleeping," her father concluded. "And if he does, it's not deep enough to dream."

She felt her forehead wrinkle as her face contorted into sadness. "But… I need to see him," she choked.

Her father sighed again and shook his head. Astrid gulped painfully and she sat on the ground. She held herself and watched the ripples of the water, trying desperately not to cry or scream.

"You miss him," he murmured, sitting next to her. Astrid sniffled loudly and nodded, touching her fingers to her forehead.

"You know Gothi?" she asked, her question nasally and followed by another wet sniffle. "I mean, do you remember her?"

Her father narrowed his eyes before a faint realization flickered behind his gaze. "Yeah… short, shaman lady? Quiet?"

"She said something to me… a few days before Hiccup and I were married."

Her father raised his eyebrows. Astrid smiled again, wiping her nose on the back of her head.

"I didn't think she talked, but… at the end of our conversation – and it wasn't much to begin with, she chooses her words wisely when she speaks – she said something to me."

"And what was that, my wee Flightmare?"

"She said that Hiccup wasn't supposed to be… someone I just live with," Astrid murmured gently. Her throat seized and she whimpered. Her father rubbed her shoulder again and Astrid sucked in a breath. "He's supposed to be someone I can't live without."

Astrid squeezed her eyes shut and her father watched two fat tears pour from her eyelashes. He shifted closer towards her and pulled her against his chest.

"And I'm trying so hard," she cried. "I really am and –"

"Hush, lass. It's alright. You spend too much time being brave, it's okay to cry. You're safe here. You know you'll see him again. You know that in your heart. Your soul."

"All I feel is this pain."

"And that pain will stop when you see him next. But you know what?"

"What?"

"He's not here now. It means he's not dead. Hold onto that thought for as long as you can and it will keep you from drowning."

Her father sighed once more. He held her and rocked her gently until her tears dried on her face, until the redness in her cheeks faded to pink and back to pale rose. And once she had a moment to breathe, she opened her eyes and everything was quiet. There were no shadows turning into faces. There were no dreamers scattered about save for one or two at a time. She was almost completely alone in this word, and for once, it actually felt safe. There was nothing to think about here, and no timeframe to act. She only had to sit and watch the water for her body to wake up from the dart. Then she'd be back in hell. But she didn't want to worry about that right now.

She lied there, thinking and looking at the sky above, when it suddenly became very dark. She squinted, the stars blinking out almost all at once. They were replaced by heavy clouds that threatened to spill over. She sat up slowly and looked around. There were no dreamers around her, only the cove. Footsteps approached and Astrid jumped to her feet. She skittered back as a figure forced his way into the cove and stumbled forward. This was no shadow. This was something different.

Hiccup staggered into the safety of the cove, his legs stiff and his gut sore, his eyes heavy and his heart cramping painfully in his chest. He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one had followed him. Even Toothless did not notice him leave the Hall in the dead of night, the countless sheets of parchment with charcoal scribbles dancing on the back of his eyelids. Everything was piling up. Everything. Building new houses in the forest needed new blueprints. Building new weapons needed new designs. Leading fearful people needed fearlessness.

How could he be fearless when he couldn't sleep? When nightmares plagued light sleep and kept him from staying in bed? Losing his house, losing their bed, the furs upon them that smelled so much of Astrid's hair, didn't help. Sleeping in the Hall among sobbing women and angry men didn't help. Sleeping outside under the storm clouds didn't help. He didn't know how much longer he could keep planning, keep leading, without rest.

He didn't know where to go. He just started walking in the dead of night and arrived here. And when he let his body crumple into the ground and felt the grass brush his fingertips, he felt some tension lift in his shoulders. Something small, a little progress. A little progress – the smallest ray of numbness – was the most he could ask for. It had been an entire moon since Astrid was stolen. The bodies were burned and their armour scavenged. The destroyed foundations had been dug out and new houses were being erected from the damaged timber in the woods. The forest was now speckled with tiny huts and tree-houses for the villagers to live away from enemy sight.

They had even made a Hangar for the dragons. Against a hidden cliff by the arena, a huge building was built in honour of the wild dragons that had flown in to help them through the battle. Most chose to stay for Hiccup's cause of avenging the fallen, awaiting orders, waiting for the day they would find the new Outcast and Berserker outpost and blow it to Valhalla. The Hangar was almost complete through Netmug's relentlessness of ordering her remaining soldiers to take up hammers instead of their swords. Yesterday, they had completed it. They secured gigantic storm doors to the entrance – a suggestion made by Netmug that sounded crazy until Cauli reluctantly agreed with him – and within the Hangar, all the dragons stayed safe. So long as they could keep Berk looking like a war-torn abandoned village, the Outcasts and Berserkers had no reason to return.

So long as they could keep them away, they could rebuild and go after them.

But none of that made Hiccup feel better as he slouched in the cove, staring at his reflection in the pond. He didn't want to think of plans or buildings or saddles or how to get Cauli on a dragon (which already had taken three weeks of unsuccessful begging). He just wanted to think of Astrid. And it made him feel horrible. He always thought of the last fight they'd had. The last real conversation when Astrid pulled him to the side of the Hall. And he had brought up the baby. He covered his face again and felt sobs clutch at his organs. He wept into his palms, thinking of her face when he dared argue with her about whether or not it was still there. Of course it wasn't, he knew that in his heart when he found her bloody in the bed, but it was different when he saw it in Astrid's eyes that it was true. And then she was gone. There was no time to apologize. Sure, they made love that night knowing what was coming, and sure, they knew that there was a chance things would end tragically.

He never thought it would feel like this.

He let his body ease into the ground and he wrapped his arms around himself and he let himself weep into the soil beneath his pale face. And it made him feel better. After three weeks of theatrical leadership, he could finally have some privacy. And he felt a warmth rush up his back as he did so, and his eyes grew heavier and heavier. The water rippled around him and he hardly noticed. Was it a trick of the eye? He couldn't tell.

But Astrid was lying in front of him, her body half in the pond in her dreamland. She watched him and only wanted time to slow down. She reached forward and hovered her palm over his face, over his eyes, and watched as his face began to relax. She stayed there with him, biting back her own tears, as she focus her energy into her hand.

"Sleep, my darling," she whispered.

And Hiccup's eyes finally drooped. He tried to keep them open, but Astrid ran her hand gently over them again, not sure if it was doing anything at all, but she had to try. Astrid smiled sadly and ran her palm over his eyes again, knowing he couldn't see her or feel her or hear her. He finally relaxed and she hovered her hand over his chest, slipping her hand into his torso and imagining where his heart would be. She stayed with him as his body began tumbling into the dreamworld.

The shadows returned around Astrid as she returned with him, and Hiccup wandered around the cove looking at the trees around him as Astrid watched from the other side of the pond, wishing he could see her and happy he had finally fallen asleep. Her father was behind her, staring at the back of his daughter's head, questions tugging at his mind.

Hiccup returned to the village the next morning, his body rejuvenated albeit his puffy eyes and swollen face. Toothless met him and nuzzled against his chest, begging for a scratch behind his fins. He sniffed his rider and pulled away, eyes wondering.

Where did you go?

"I went for a walk, needed to clear my head."

You should be trying to sleep. I worry.

Hiccup smiled. "I actually did sleep last night."

Toothless's eyes widened and his tongue began to peek between his scaly lips, a sign of happiness.

The forge was finished this morning. We can craft saddles. Train. Search. We are in the final stages of your plans.

"I like the sound of that."

He began to follow Toothless as he galloped down the hill in excitement, his thoughts returning to his dreams the night before. He could have sworn he saw her, a blurry figure on the other side of a lake, a warmth at his heart that lingered through the morning.