The cast on my arm is off, Christmas is coming and Starbucks has those delicious holiday drinks again! Life is good, except for I forgot how hard it is being a student. And to think that I'm going to do grad school next year...I'm going to die. But until then, I'm going to drink Caramel Brulée Lattes and type copious amounts of forty page English essays on war poetry.

Anyway, this chapter is the darkest, most emotional installment of them all, so don't say I didn't warn you!

HORIZONS

Arc III : We Are Skuld

Chapter V

The first thing he noticed was the smell.

It smelt like freshly baked bread with bakeapple preserves, sliced and still warm with the jam smeared on top. It was the same recipe he had often imitated from the few scraps of paper that remained of his mother's recipe book, and he had memorized the smell. Most of it had been destroyed in a raid when he was eight or nine years old, but he had managed to save at least a few of the scribbled recipes written in his mother's sloppy hand. It was one of the only things he had left that reminded him of her. If he was to be honest with himself, Hiccup didn't know much about his mother but he did know that she hadn't been of the upper class when she had started being courted by his father, and the village elder had made it her Odin-sworn mission to teach the young shield maiden how to read and write. Vaguely, Hiccup wondered if Gothi had been the elder even then.

He breathed in deeply as the fog of bleary sleepiness slowly wore off. He felt like smiling as the expansion of his lungs didn't cause him any pain – the wound between his ribs must have healed while he was sleeping. He loved sleeping; he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in an age, although the reasons for his insomnia were still hazy in his mind.

The next thing he noticed was the sounds around him, lulling him out of his restfulness with the gentle crash of the waves somewhere off in the distance. He figured he must have been at home again. Nearby, he could hear someone humming a familiar tune, although why it was so recognizable was still just out of his reach.

Unable to fight the call of wakefulness any longer, Hiccup opened his eyes and was immediately blinded by the brightness of the midday sun. He squinted against the brilliant light that streamed in from the open windowpane, framing a picturesque vista of the breathtaking seaboard between the worn hardwood. He pulled his forearm over his eyes to try and block some of the glare as he tried to adjust to the dazzling daylight flooding into the quaint room he was laying in, and he let his other senses guide him in figuring out where on earth he was. The warmth of the sun against his skin told him that it was summer here, so it couldn't be Berk. He could hear the gulls crying on the ocean breeze and the waves crashing against the coastline. He could taste the salt in the air. All of the pain he distantly remembered feeling was suddenly gone, and it was safe to say that he didn't miss it in the least.

Braving the brilliance of the room, Hiccup removed his arm from above his eyes and drew himself up onto his elbows, sinking into the softest mattress he had ever laid on in his life. Why had he been sleeping? How had he managed to find such a comfortable bed? Had he missed something?

"You must be starving!"

Hiccup jolted reflexively from his semi-upright position, jerking his head towards the noise as a figure stepped quietly into the room. He fought to make out the face in the radiance that continued to overwhelm him and he scrubbed at his eyes with his fists as he tried again to make sense of the silhouette that strode joyously towards him, hands outstretched in a greeting with open arms.

"My brave, brave boy! Look at you, skinny as a rail – eat up!"

Hiccup's jaw dropped.

The boisterous woman grinned widely at Hiccup and deposited a wooden bowl onto the bedside table before sitting onto the bed and wrapping him in her arms, "You've grown so much," she pulled away, holding his face in her palms, "I always knew you'd make me proud."

"But..." he stuttered, mouth still agape, "but you're—"

"Dead. Trust me, I know."

"But that means—"

"That you're dead too?" Valhallarama laughed, her voice tinkling like copper chimes in a summer breeze, "Perhaps. But no matter, eat up! You look like a skeleton!"

Hiccup was too stunned to reply as Valhallarama leant over and retrieved the bowl, setting it down in front of him. He stared at it, awestruck. Then he gaped back up at the woman in front of him again, who motioned for him to turn his attention back to the soup.

Warily he collected the bowl gingerly in his palms, seeming almost distrustful of the very solidity of the thing. A thousand thoughts started running though his head as he began sipping the soup from the rim of the dish, slurping it down as if he hadn't eaten in a week. He was still starving as he polished off the bowl in less than a minute, wiping his face with the back of his hand to mop up some of the broth that had spilled.

"Picked up some of your father's eating habits I see," she smirked, raising an eyebrow as he sheepishly set the bowl down in his lap. She took it from his hands and pushed herself off of the downy mattress, touching a finger to the side of her nose, "I'll go fetch another."

She slipped out of the room and Hiccup took the moment to try and make sense of the last sixty seconds. Where was he? What had happened to him? He'd been killed hadn't he? And if he was dead, that meant…

Had he made it to Valhalla?

He scratched his head, swallowing uncomfortably as he shifted on the bed. He swung both of his legs around and set them onto the ground, feeling rested enough to pull himself to his feet—

His feet?

He looked down and gaped, his eyes rivalling the circumference of soup bowls. Two bare feet poked out from beneath the gauzy green fabric of the pants he was wearing, pushing cautiously against the warm wooden floor. With prompting, Hiccup's toes were soon wiggling jovially in the bright summer sun, one alongside of the other, moving in tandem with each other. He reached down just to prove its existence to himself, placing his fingers gingerly on the skin of his left foot. It existed. It was there.

He was finally whole again.

"It's wonderful, isn't it?"

For the second time that day, her voice shook him out of his reverie and he looked up to see her smiling with another steaming bowl of soup in her hands. She balanced it on one of her palms and sat down beside him once more, placing a maternal hand on his shoulder, "There are no grievances here. Only peace."

"How can I be at peace?" he asked, his throat tightening as a flurry of emotions came over him, "I'm dead!"

Valhallarama breathed out quietly, tracing the rim of the bowl with her fingers, "I can't honestly say."

"But how did I get..." his eyes widened slowly as the realization of the events that had gotten him there took hold,"...get here...oh gods..."

Sightlessly, Hiccup stared at a knot in the hardwood, kneading his hands together as the cogs in his mind slowly cleared themselves of the haze that had washed over him. His memories came back to him with numbing precision, drowning him in an ocean of images and emotions just as he had drowned in the sea itself. He had hit the water and then...

And now he was here.

Hiccup pushed himself to his feet and continued to stare blankly at the floor, bunching his hands into fists. His voice was frighteningly toneless, "How am I supposed to fix this mess when I'm dead?"

Valhallarama didn't answer, watching all the while as he started to pace back and forth in growing frustration. With each step he took the sound of his feet slapping against the wood grew until he was nearly stomping, and Valhallarama could do nothing but helplessly watch.

"Hiccup," she started gently, raising herself to intervene, "Sit down. I know it's hard to understand, but—"

"No!" his mother grabbed his forearm and he jerked away, breaking her grip, "I will not be responsible for losing her! And Toothless, without me…"

Hiccup trailed off, the gravity of his situation finally dawning on him with a magnitude he wasn't yet willing to comprehend. He slumped onto the windowsill and fought back the tears that threatened to escape, screwing his eyes shut with grief.

"Tell me about her."

Hiccup turned sharply towards his mother, "What? Why?"

"Just…tell me about her."

He looked away, swallowing regretfully, "She's beautiful. Accepting. Powerful. She's got the temper of a bull, but…her heart is in the right place. Gods, I wish I could have just...seen her I guess, one last time…"

He stifled the sobs that threatened to rack through his body, holding his breath in a feeble attempt to try and stop them. Valhallarama held back the urge to try and comfort him; she understood his need to grieve.

"She…" he took a shaky breath, "She has golden hair and her eyes sparkle every time she smiles. She's determined, stubborn," he couldn't help but smile sadly as he thought of how she had chased him halfway across the known world and beyond, "She's perfect."

"I always had a feeling…" his mother said pensively from behind him, and Hiccup felt compelled to stare, "She grew up to be a beautiful girl."

"But how—"

"You didn't think I spent my whole time here making mutton stew did you?" she laughed quietly, her voice filling the room, "We're not completely separate from the realm of Midgard, you know. I know all about what went on down there after I passed," her smile faded as she came to stand a little closer, "If I had known that your father would have treated you that way…Gods Hiccup. Can you forgive me?"

"Forgive you?" Hiccup's expression betrayed his disbelief, "For what?"

She ran her hands roughly through her red hair, loosening the bun nestled at the nape of her neck, "The moment…the moment I held you in my arms I knew…" she grinded her teeth together, her anguish apparent on her features, "I couldn't fight it. And then there was the raid…I tried to save you…"

"Well," Hiccup managed to say, his breath hitched, "I managed to live longer than anyone expected of me anyway."

Valhallarama breathed out heavily, fighting to reign in her emotions, "I'm proud of you Hiccup."

She pulled him into another hug, one that he gratefully returned, "When you took on the Red Death…I watched on in horror. I was so frightened," she blinked hastily and shook her head, grappling for control, "Your fight drew in quite a crowd actually; nearly half of Valhalla came out to watch. And then you appeared on this very bed," she pulled away slightly, staring at the now empty bed with glassy eyes, "You laid there for days, half in this world and half in your own. I waited at your bedside, hoping that you'd disappear. And finally, after seventeen days, you did."

"I wasn't sure how the loss of your leg would hit you, but I knew you would be hurt. I saw the way you beat yourself up about it. I saw the way you suffered. And I wanted to help so bad, but the gods don't pull favours lightly, even if you did just save the entire Viking race from eventual extinction. They told me my favour would be granted in due time, and I still hold them to it."

She smiled and gazed at him fondly, her heart swelling in pride, "And now it's time I gave you that pep talk I should have given you years ago, had I gotten the chance," she breathed in deeply, settling the surge of emotions threatening to break through her barriers again, "Somehow, you managed to bring peace to our people in a way I can't even begin to imagine. You've done so much, no matter what you may think. Sometimes, it isn't the ingredients that are important, but the sum of their parts, and from every mistake comes something to be learnt, you know," she placed her hands on both of his shoulders, staring him straight in the eye, "You're only a boy, and it's that that makes you special. Even the gods have taken notice, and that in itself is something to be proud of."

He swallowed roughly, and Valhallerama could tell he was fighting his own demons inside. She squeezed his shoulder gently, gradually bringing him back to her.

"So what? You're left handed – you're different! Does that make you any less of a hero?" she shook her head, smiling slightly, "You lost your leg, but only a genius could have thought up the contraption you created to replace it. And you tamed a dragon! You made him whole again, and as a result became his equal. You take too little credit Hiccup, you know that?"

She brushed a bit of dirt off of his cheek, smiling widely now at her grown son, "My mother once told me that if I couldn't change the future, I'd have to try and change the world. I never understood it at the time, but the meanings were one and the same – it's just the way you go about doing it."

Hiccup turned his head to the side, unable to face her any longer. A myriad of emotions were cropping up inside of him all at once, and the exhaustion he had felt before was beginning to stir inside of him yet again. He heard his mother take a sharp intake of breath and he slowly swivelled his head to look at her, only for his mother to smile warmly and kiss him gently on the forehead.

"Hiccup…" she whispered, pulling him closely to her chest once again. He felt her tears as they streamed into his hair, and she sobbed quietly without abandon as he slowly began to fade in his mother's arms.

"Mom," he gasped, staring down at his translucent hand over her shoulder, "What…what's happening?"

She hugged him closer, struggling against her emotions, "They kept their word," she whispered.

"What?" Hiccup pulled away, suddenly panicked. His limbs were fading fast before his eyes, and soon he could barely feel his mother's touch on his arms, "What's going on?"

"You're going back," she breathed, smiling sadly.

"Back? But…I thought I was…"

The scene around him was fading. The sun was setting around him.

"Go. Change the world."

"But, mom!"

"Don't fight it."

"Wait!"

As the last remaining tendrils of light escaped his vision, the remnants of one last phrase floated away on the wind.

"It was never your time."

Astrid clenched her eyes shut, waiting in horror for the inevitable. She just wasn't cut out for this – she wasn't Hiccup! – and her lack of ability to steer the Night Fury's rig had inevitably led them to their defeat. Pressing her cheek into the supple leather of Hiccup's saddle, Astrid knew that she'd finally been bested.

But the impact never came.

She blinked just in time to watch a river of lightning spider across the clouds, and stared up in terror as the monstrous sea serpent shrieked in agony. The leviathan threw its head back in a fit of pain-filled rage as the rumble of thunder began to crackle through the air, shocking her out of her frightened trance. Toothless banked on his left side and Astrid had no choice but to clamp her frozen fingers around the stirrup and wrench them sideways, barely avoiding the giant waves that towered from the surface of the ocean as he thrashed.

Hiccup had done it.

Hiccup had done it!

Astrid let out a whoop of joy as she twisted the stirrup inwards, sending the pair into a tight turn so that they were facing Jormungand yet again. The huge serpent was still writhing in pain, but was showing no signs of stopping, and Astrid's short lived thrill quickly came to an abrupt close. The realization dawned on Astrid with profundity as she came to grasp that the monster hadn't been hurt enough, the wound hadn't been deep enough, to end their battle. Hiccup had done all that he could, and she could sense it in Toothless that he was desperate to find out what happened to him too. But they had to put their concern to the side for just a few more minutes as they fought to gain some altitude amid all of the crashing whitecaps and the snake's thrashing body trouncing up and down with the waves.

Lightning crackled above them again, but this time there was no ignoring it. Fingers of electricity danced amongst the clouds until they all converged on one point, uniting into one huge pillar that plunged from the root of the cloud like the head of a hammer. It struck with frightening precision the very hilt of the sword embedded in Jormungand's neck and electrocuted him, sending the gigantic serpent into convulsions. Astrid and Toothless watched with matching expressions of both awe and terror as the gargantuan beast began to contract in on itself, its skin shrivelling and shrinking around its body, effectively strangling it. Its remaining eye roved wildly in its socket as blood began to froth out of its choking maw, gargling and guttering as if it were drowning mid-air. It continued to wither and shrink, thrashing in twitching motions as its body started to dissolve, dripping downwards and saturating the sea with its crimson venom that steamed and poisoned the air with its noxious vapours. Astrid pulled her sleeve over her face as the snake continued to disintegrate, decaying and liquefying until all that was left were the sea bleached bones of its spine. Squinting through the mist, Astrid watched as each of the island sized vertebrae sunk one by one into the ocean, leaving no trace behind.

The pair watched in silence for a moment, the nightmare of what had been there only moments earlier still fresh in their minds. Part of her still thought that the snake would come up at devour them now that they had let their guard down, and its death had only been a trick of the eyes.

She swallowed painfully and coughed deeply into the woollen sleeve of her soaking coat; the fumes in the poisoned air were burning her lungs and her throat. Sensing Toothless move beneath her, Astrid placed her hand back on the stirrup and tried to hold her breath, but the actions of the day were quickly catching up with her. Her eyelids drooped as she realized just how truly cold she was, and the fire in her lungs made slipping into unconsciousness all that more inviting. She could feel Toothless begin to lag beneath her as well as they drifted lower and lower towards the surface of the ocean, wavering back in forth in a bare attempt to keep clear of the waves.

Try as she might, staying awake was becoming harder and harder. She began to shiver again, her teeth chattering violently behind her frozen, blue tinged lips. The only thing that kept her alert was the dimming image of Hiccup at the back of her mind, reminding her of what she was searching for. She kept telling herself that he was somewhere out there, holding onto a piece of driftwood and she clung to the image, forcing herself to stay focused. She spoke out loud and managed to get the attention of Toothless, who wasn't faring any better in the paralysing cold.

They flew over the surface of the ocean for what seemed like hours, stumbling here and there when either Astrid or Toothless would momentarily succumb to their own exhaustion. It was only a matter of time before they both failed; they were both losing faith as every pass left them empty handed in their search for the boy that had brought them out here in the first place. And despite this, they both owed their lives to him.

Astrid closed her eyes, choking back a sob. He had to be out there. Hiccup wouldn't just die. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Not when they still had so much life left to lead.

The clouds were beginning to disperse now, and she could see that the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. Remorsefully, she knew that there would be no finding him in the dark. Toothless shuddered dangerously beneath her before crying out mournfully, calling to his hatchling. It echoed throughout the remaining sea stacks as they rose from their search for Hiccup in the ocean and started south, looking for the closest island in order to rest.

Barely a mile away, the two of them fell upon a spit of land and collapsed onto the sodden ground, their limbs just giving out on them. Throwing off her crisp, ice covered jacket, Astrid rolled under Toothless' wing and promptly fell asleep.

It felt like months had passed before Astrid opened her eyes again, coughing deeply from her chest and wheezing painfully as she tried to inhale. She cracked open her eyelids and found it to be a nearly impossible task, the motion expending far more energy than she would have liked. Rational thought came slowly as she pushed herself to her hands and knees beneath Toothless' wing, heaving and choking as she fought to take a deep breath. Her limbs shook traitorously beneath her.

Toothless, upon being roused by Astrid's laboured coughing as well as the rumbling of thunder above them, removed his wing from over top of her body and lifted an eyelid from his prone position on the ground. He was so cold he couldn't feel his legs and no matter how hard he wished them to move, he still couldn't get them to stir on their own accord. Concernedly, he watched as Astrid heaved herself to her feet, using his spinal fins for support as her body quaked and shivered from underneath her. She kept her expression determined, however, and stumbled slowly towards the sparse forest to make a fire.

Gripping a branch in her unfeeling fingers, Astrid bent over and clawed at a few fallen limbs. She tried to pick them up but ended up falling to her knees in an attempt, burying her bottom half in a mound of snow. Frowning, she gritted her teeth and pushed herself up with all of the energy she could muster, bringing the handful of sticks up with her. Satisfied, she staggered back towards Toothless and deposited the small pile of twigs in front of his nose.

She sunk to her knees, hacking openly as the exertion proved to be too much for her. She collapsed onto the dragon's withers as he spat a small spark towards the modest pile, setting the little sticks alight. Astrid leant forwards and tried to get as close to the minute fire as possible without actually falling on top of it as she tried desperately to absorb all of the warmth that she could. She felt nothing as she held her hands over top of the flames, her breath rattling inside her chest. Dazed, she stared into the fire, her blue eyes glazed over as she thought of nothing.

The fire was out within minutes, and Astrid felt like giving up all over again. She wheezed over and over again as the colour in her face drained from the lack of oxygen, and for a moment the world started to spin. She tried to find the ground beneath her but she was feeling too lightheaded, too dizzy as the earth became the sky and the sky became the earth. Her limbs gave out underneath of her and she started to collapse only to be cushioned mid-fall by a black blur, cold and grey.

Toothless' concern was growing; his hatchling's mate was slowly succumbing to whatever poison she had breathed in when the serpent had disintegrated before their eyes, and the many minutes she had spent floating in the freezing Arctic waters hadn't helped her either. And if she couldn't control his tail fin, than he wouldn't be able to search for his hatchling.

He didn't want to believe that Hiccup was gone; he wouldn't believe it, there was nothing that could make him believe it. He was out there somewhere, holding on for dear life because he could still feel him, humming at near silence in the back of his mind where he had been residing for so many weeks already. The snake was dead – he knew that as he lowered Astrid back onto the ground with his wing, but that strange connection was still there, if only barely. It was enough to confirm his hopes, his faith. Hiccup was out there. Hiccup needed him.

And he was going to find him no matter what.

Hiccup's return back to consciousness was excruciating.

He crawled listlessly through the haze, grappling with his fingernails for some sort of concrete sensation against the vicious tug that was wrapped around his ankles, drawing him back into the abyss. The first thing he noticed was the splitting headache he felt, pounding forcefully in tandem with every throb of his heart. His cheek scraped against something rough in texture as he tried desperately to make his mind work and make sense of what had happened, but he was in no state to wonder coherently.

The steady hammering of the rain around him only added to the caustic ambiance of his pounding head, making it feel as if someone were driving blunt nails into his skull. He dry heaved into the ground as the weak, fluttering sensation in his stomach churned with nausea, his mouth filling with mud and sand. Choking, he could barely find the strength to spit it back out. He moaned in the back of his throat and struggled to move his hand to his head in order to try and relieve some of the pain, give him some relief. It took a few seconds for him to realize that he couldn't move, even though he could feel his muscles twitch in their effort to jerk up.

Vaguely, in the back of his addled mind, he realized that something was wrong. He couldn't feel his left arm, and his right was somewhere folded beneath his body. His shoulder screamed in pain. His eyes blearily fluttered open; his vision was spinning, but the only thing he could see was the ground, saturated with the frigid rain that pounded down on top of him.

He blinked his bleary, unfocused eyes as he tried to gather his bearings. He was desperate to figure out where he was. He strained to breathe in but he only ended up suffocating on the torrent of mud that blocked his windpipe. His lungs heaved for oxygen. Spitting and gasping for breath, he noticed the acrid smell of blood tainting the air, wafting through his nose and assaulting his senses.

Beneath all of his temporary confusion, a trickle of dread began to seep into the forefront of his mind. He remembered nothing. He gave a weak attempt to budge from his uncomfortable position and only barely managed to shift his head a little farther to the side, but at least then he was able to take in his surroundings. He saw mud and the jagged foundations of stones jutting through the sodden ground in the blurry pre-dawn light, but nothing else. Distantly, he could hear the crashing of waves against the soil. The spray soaked him to the marrow, and the salt in the water stung the gashes on his back and sides.

He still couldn't feel his legs. He hissed as the blinding agony of the salt in his wounds continued to set fire to his torso, his entire body. His eyes burned against the brine that had pooled beneath him, seeping into him. He hissed as the white hot pain tore through his nerves. The pain seemed to last for hours, and he couldn't stop the muted scream that ripped from his parched lips. His eyes were screwed together so tightly that it hurt as another wash of freezing salt water crashed down on top of him, but that discomfort was nothing in comparison to the pain he was feeling as his body convulsed around him.

The pain slowly began to ebb as the undertow drew away and he collapsed limply back onto the sodden ground, sputtering and panting for breath. A cold ache overtook his senses as his body started to fall back towards the abyss of blessed darkness, towards unconsciousness. He fought it weakly, prolonging the agony as he cracked his eyes open wearily again, still stinging and red.

"Help…" he whispered into the darkness, his voice hoarse and raspy. His tongue felt as if it were made of lead. He winced. He tried to think clearly but the pain that coated his mind like a film was simply too thick to wash away. He took a shuddering breath above the fierce pain that continued to linger in his limbs. His mind threatened to lose sight again and he tried to keep focus, but the crash of water from behind soaked him yet again. He jerked involuntarily as a scream passed his lips, echoing feebly against his surroundings.

His vision narrowed; he didn't have the energy to keep his eyes open any longer. He was so cold. Part of him wondered if he was dead.

It was then that the raw horror overtook him as the realisation of what had happened suddenly took hold. The rush of fear that had been held off by his hypothermic state of mind spilled over the barriers at that moment, coiling and clawing at his chest. He was dead. He had to be.

That snake.

He had fallen.

The paralyzing fear. The nauseous panic. The bone crushing impact on the churning waves. It was the last thing he remembered.

He drowned.

And now he was in Hel.

Endless thoughts swirled around his mind with no real direction as he tried to fight the catalepsy that had taken hold. He was frozen in place as his crazed, terror driven thoughts overshadowed any sense of common sense, of logic. His heart throbbed in a frenzy and he shrieked for breath, the pain becoming too much.

Errant tears streamed down the bridge of his nose and onto the soil beneath him. The feeling of a knife in his ribs dug deeper and his eyes were flung wide open, his lips parted. He was hyperventilating. He couldn't breathe. He tried, but all that left his throat was a dry, strangled sob.

The pain began to numb. Weakly, he tried to grasp at the last remaining shreds of his conscious thoughts, but his mind failed to process it. His eyes closed again on their own accord, and slowly, everything faded into the quiet folds of darkness.

Well, what did you think?

When I initially wrote the first part of this chapter more than a year ago, I had intended Horizons to be far more supernatural than it actually turned out to be. And even though I've kept the mystical aspects of this whole crazy world to a minimum, I couldn't help but include the section that started it all; that way, instead of being seen as a concrete event, Hiccup's reconciliation with his mother could also be seen as a lucid dream. However, as a wise wizard once said, "Of course it's all in your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it's not real?"

The last section was based loosely off of how I felt laying on the concrete after getting hit by the car. I knew the experience would come in handy! If you're ever looking for some literary inspiration, throw yourself into a near death situation! Works like a charm!

Lastly, keep in mind that it always gets darkest before dawn...next chapter will be up before Christmas :)

Brontë