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“I know what you’re going to say, Stoick. How could I have done this? Stayed away all these years. And why didn’t I come back to you? To our son? Well, what sign did I have that you could change? That anyone on Berk could? I pleaded so many times to stop the fighting, to find another answer, but did any of you listen? I know I left you to raise Hiccup alone, but I thought he’d be better off without me, and I was wrong, I see that now. Oh, stop being so stoic, Stoick. Go on! Scream! Shout! Say something!”
“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”
She knew he was here. The dragons had been spotted far away, and she had gone up herself to see who it was. She had hovered just above the clouds, waiting until the riders were close enough for her to identify them. She was not prepared for who she saw. There, just beneath the film of cloud, Stoick the Vast, defender of Berk, scourge of the dragons, was riding one of the very beasts he had sworn to kill and urging it on. Valka hadn’t believed Hiccup when he said that Stoick had reformed. That was simply too good to be true. Yet there he was, his hair and beard touched with grey, and a little worse for the wear, but still the same strong man Valka had known all those years ago. She had gazed ahead of the riders and seen that they would soon find the Bewilderbeast’s cave. Turning Cloudjumper, she raced past them to the cave, shielded from view by the soft white clouds beneath her.
She decided not to tell Hiccup about his father coming, he would take the news with the same enthusiasm that he took everything, and Valka needed time. Time to think things out and plan very, very carefully for what she would say. Stoick would be furious, she was sure of it. His strongest emotion had always been anger, something that only Valka had been able to tame in the past. It had been twenty years, however, and any connection she had shared with him must have been severed long ago. But if he was going to be angry and leave her, she at least wanted to justify herself to him. She worked out what she would say carefully, and held her staff in readiness. Stoick had never struck her, but twenty years of solitude could do many things.
Valka heard the familiar step, thud of a peg leg, and she turned to the entrance in time to see Gobber’s open-mouthed astonishment. She heard voices further down the passage, his voice, and Gobber backed out of the opening to say something to him. The entrance was filled by his strong figure, and Valka began to speak, prepared for anything.
From the first word that came out of her mouth, Valka focused on justifying herself, pleading for something she didn’t deserve or expect to get; his forgiveness. She knew that was out of the question, however, so she steeled herself for the proper response of anger and violence, building up walls against every kind of dart or weapon he could throw.
She was here! He removed his helmet in reverence of the Valkyrie before him, a perfect image of the woman who bore that name. She began to speak, and her voice was soft but troubled. He advanced towards her, and as he came closer, he was sure. This was no vision, no heaven-sent illusion. After all these years, she was here. His beloved wife, alive and well, as vibrant and lovely as ever she had been, perhaps more so. He was close now, close enough to see her beautiful sea-green eyes, now wide with worry. He couldn’t form any words until he reached out and touched her face, the final evidence he needed to assure him. Then he knew what to say, what he had thought from the moment he had seen her as a young boy, to the second of their parting, to this beautiful instant he thought he would have to die to experience. And he spoke the truest words he had said in years.
All the walls that Valka had fortified around her heart crumbled. How could she have so misjudged him? Had the years really tainted her vision that much? What lies had she believed about him to justify her own irresponsible actions? She closed her eyes in shame and rested against the gentle hand that held her cheek.
She didn’t deserve him. Every thought she had formed since she had seen him outside the cave had been of how to defend herself, how to protect her own selfish actions. When she spoke she pitted herself against him, rationalizing and trying to pin the blame on him. She had woven words and spoken rashly, never once thinking that she may have been wrong about him. He had seen only her, not the cruel words she was speaking, not the twenty years of loneliness she had made him endure, he saw her as she had been, and as she was, and there wasn’t a difference to him. He spoke what he knew to be true.
Valka felt her face being lifted, and with tears behind her closed lids, she felt him kiss her; expressing all the love and kindness he had toward her. He backed away and Valka opened her eyes, staring in hope and disbelief at the man looking down at her. He smiled.