Authors note: hey everyone! Nope, the stories not done yet- still a little while yet. You'll know when it ends (I'll put "the end"XD) anyways I hope you enjoy this chapter- please let me know what you thought of it, it puts a smile on my face^^ see you tommorow!

"...Close your eyes..."

Hiccup stirred... He was having that dream again, wasn't he...

A resounding applause... The ringing of piano keys. The beautiful sound of a violin played to the utmost perfection. A melody of two hearts joined together... and that mysterious face that wove throughout the entire dream- sometimes a breathtaking silver, but other times a pure gold. Those brilliant, diamond eyes, and permanently joyful smile... His guardian angel. Everything about him, and the times they shared together, reanimated in a beautiful dreamscape. Those haunting that words would follow him near the end: 'Don't forget me, Hiccup... Remember our duet.'

He'd always get so confused at that part. In his dream state, it felt as though the spirit had never left. He could relive those moments of eternal happiness forever and ever whilst he was asleep... but then it always ended the exact same way. His final words, followed with confusion and panic. He'd promise to remember, shout it desperately to the fading world, as his translucent, white face faded away right before his eyes. He'd try to follow, begging him not to go... and he'd always hear the exact same three words... "Close your eyes..." Everything would go black... and that was his cue to wake up.

He'd found the dreams a little weird at first (it was cliche, was it not? He'd only known him for two hours, and yet he saw him in his dreams). They didn't happen all the time- just occasionally... and over time, he grown to become grateful of those dreams. He'd hold onto them as best as he could as he slowly drifted awake- trying to keep hold of their distant euphoria and nostalgia... and even when he was awake he'd just lie there... Just lie still... and remember. He'd remember that amazing, life changing spirit- and everything they'd shared together- thinking of that memorable melody that had been written into his soul. He'd just hold onto it all for a few seconds... and let it shield him from the world.

It'd been almost four years since that night, he thought... It felt like forever had passed- and yet, also, no time at all. He slid heavily out of bed, and dragged himself sleepily across the room, rubbing his eyes.

Sometimes he'd wonder if it really was just a dream. It almost felt like that night had never happened. It did seem like a fantasy- like it was way too good to be true. But there was one thing that proved otherwise. He released a sigh that was almost a yawn, and looked across the room, a fond smile growing across his face. There, in the corner of the living room, was the tall, glass cabinet- and in that cabinet, sat proudly on the top shelf... was his first, notable trophy. A reminder that what had happened that day really had happened- he hadn't just imagined it. There were one or two other trophies he'd earned since sharing the cabinet with it, but that one took pride of place- right at the top where he could see it. He stifled another yawn and lazily wandered his way around the house for a good shower.

A ten minute soak and a plate of Nutella coated toast later, he was much more awake. He brushed the crumbs off his hands and glancing at a nearby clock, placing his plate by the sink for later... He still had another hour or so before his first lesson started- plenty of time to kill before he had to set off. The academy was only a ten minute walk away.

It didn't take long after his incredible performance for all those years ago for the talent scouts to start snapped him up. Offer after offer to attend prestigious academies and universities had thrown themselves in his face, until he got the one he had always wanted... Arendelle Academy.

He'd accepted of course- that wasn't an offer he was going to turn down- but he'd decided to take a gap year out of education first- to clear his head. The last thing he'd wanted after the sudden loss of his greatest teacher, muse and music partner, was enter a really intense, challenging music course that would take up almost every last minute of his time. It was the right choice, and he was glad he did it. He'd really needed the breath of fresh air to familiarise himself once more with playing the piano-reacquainting himself with it. But, more than anything, he'd needed the time to get over the strangely deep, personal loss that losing that silver/white spirit had been.

Now, three years into the course, he was almost finished with it. He was approaching the time where he needed to start making a name for himself- finding a way stand out from the other students, as he prepared himself to step out into the big music industry. If he had the spirit by his side, it would be no problem, he thought frequently- the two of them had managed to create a legendary piece together: a journalist who'd walked away from the performance had literally called it thus. "Deeply moving" she'd said: "music, the likes of which, I've never experienced before". Of course, there'd been huge weight of expectation on him to reproduce the masterpiece... but he never quite could. Try though he might, he'd never been able to recreate something of that standard.

His teacher was great- he'd come a long way with her as his mentor, but she also knew he was missing something. "A crucial element that was preventing him from reaching his full potential" she said. Not something, he always thought privately... someone.

He headed into the living room and eased himself onto the slightly worn, cushioned stool that sat before the grand piano. He always liked sitting here. He'd deliberately given the piano the best seat in the house- overlooking the garden, in front of the large window that spanned the living room. It was where the best daylight came streaming in, and always got the best sunsets- and if he leaned around the piano, he could see over the garden to catch glimpses of the quiet street. He didn't have much of a garden, really- it wasn't even a very impressive piece of grass- but it was his, at least. He'd moved closer to the academy to help with his study. It was only a small bungalow- but it was his, and it was home.

His dad had been surprisingly great about the whole 'moving out' thing. He'd even given him the money to help buy the place. Apparently he'd seen a change in him, some months after he came home with that trophy (no doubt when he was starting to get over the loss), and had decided he was going to help him step out into the world. They got along a lot better now, him and his dad. Even three years after he left, he still gave his father a call on Sundays- if nothing else, to let him know he was still alive. The calls were sometimes awkward, and very short, but their relationship was a lot better now than he would've ever thought possible four years ago.

But enough thinking about that, he thought. If he wanted to get anything done before he had to set off, he best get playing.

He smiled, and carefully uncovered the row of keys. The ones that used to inspire so many emotions in him: grief, fear, stress... But now... He didn't feel any of that. He saw them as how they were meant to be. A blank canvas, awaiting his touch. Ready to create anything he wanted... But, if he looked at them carefully... he could see the subtle hues of the darkest blue and the lightest gold.

He put away the printed sheets of paper resting on the prop stand to reveal hand written ones underneath. Those printed ones didn't matter for now- he was working on something personal. If he wasn't working on class assignments, or simply playing random, existing pieces for pleasure, he was always- without fail- working on this piece.

The paper was covered in pencilled notes and gaping gaps- nearly all of them written with an uncertain question mark- and there were more than a few rubbed out scribble marks visible with a squint. He gathered them together and lay them down gently on the piano, a waiting pencil ready to capture any notes he might remember. He took a deep, content breath; trying to recapture that beautiful moment when it seemed the stars had aligned, and he'd somehow been able to play a masterpiece that had inspired an entire theatre to stand and applause its brilliance. He hasn't done any of the brilliant part, of course- that part belonged to the moonlight spirit. His... friend?... He didn't know... Who really knows what they were... He thought. Or what they might've been...

He knew couldn't create that same magic again without his partner- he could play something that sounded like it, but it always just had a gaping hole in the middle. Any teachers he let hear it said it was missing something- just like all his performances were- but where they were stumped as to what it could be, he had no doubt. It was because it was missing its violin counterpart. An incomplete half... A broken duet. Yet, still he played on.

He'd been working tirelessly to try and recreate that song again ever since that one, life changing day- and he hadn't managed to recreate it once. Not one time, in four years, had he come close to matching the melody of that night. But he kept on working at it. Trying to restore the piece to its former glory... Even though, if he was being honest with himself, he no longer really expected to come up with that melody again, note for note, that wasn't the reason why he was doing it. He was keeping a promise he'd made... to the most amazing person he'd ever met. And so he'd keep on remembering- no matter what...

He closed his eyes, and reached for the keys.

... I haven't forgotten, he thought, wondering if that lost ghost would hear him.

... I still remember..