Chapter Text
Viggo was at a standstill. Or a lay-still, if he were to be more accurate.
… Gods, he must have lost more blood than he previously thought. When did he end up on the ground?
He shook his head. Focus.
Nadder spines were not deadly to dragons, but the way his muscles still spontaneously seized even after its removal nearly made him wish they were.
The reality of it was that he was completely nonoperational. His back was stiff in agony and embraced with blood. He’d been able to fly for a few moments, if only so he could get away from the Riders.
Viggo kept trying to recall exactly what happened — yet his mind kept flitting away from it, and his back would seize.
He knew one of them removed the spine. It wasn’t Hiccup. He had hit someone. Knocked another down. A dragon yelled at him, threatened him maybe? He flew away. Not the Night Fury. He and Hiccup stayed within his sight. He did not speak at all.
Or, he had spoken a word. Stop. He stood over him, and looked at Viggo with— like he was—
The world was very far away. He had summoned the last of his energy when he first heard the Riders arrive. The absence of immediate threat made his body limp against his will. But he still had his… his…
Dark spots overcame his vision. Tongue heavy in mouth. Hearing in. Dripping water. Hearing out. Blissful silence. Stone ground hard.
Fuck. Flying reopened wound. Wounds. Pain. Pain. Sickening warmth. Slower than before. Healing. Also slow.
Still. Stay still, dammit.
“I said don’t move,” Ryker admonished, the first time Viggo needed stitches. Hel, was this his life flashing before his eyes?
“But it hurts,” he whined. He was five, at the time.
“If you stay still, I won’t tell mother,” Ryker shot back. He put a jug in his little brother’s tiny hands. “Here, this’ll help.”
Young Viggo drank eagerly, desperate for comfort and to hide his failure. And he became warm, like now.
No. Different. Sickening.
Another memory. Ryker, standing over Viggo’s twitching body, a wild fear in his eyes.
Viggo slipped up. A dragon got close — close enough to slash his neck.
“Viggo!” his brother screamed, pushing cloth into the wound, which made Viggo physically cringe. “Don’t move, fuck’s sake!”
‘But it hurts,’ he wanted to complain like he was a miserable child all over again, but even breathing made his neck burble. His voice betrayed a whimper.
His older brother’s hands, big and firm, held him in place. Kept his life from seeping out of his throat. “Someone’s coming. I got you.”
No. Different. Alone.
No one is coming for Viggo.
. . .
Cognizance tickled in the back of his brain. How long has it been? He thinks he screamed earlier, when the room got lighter, because that was bad. Was that before he hit the ground? Sunlight did not touch him, thankfully. It wasn’t… she had said…
Fuzz wrapped itself around his brain. Maybe he should not think too hard right now.
Warmth oozed slowly. The time passed.
Stomach angry. Still. Stay still.
Don’t think. No, focus. Don’t think. Watch your surroundings. Pain. Don’t think. Just be still.
Footsteps. Creaking metal.
Bad. Danger.
“—llo?” a voice called. He knew it. Where? It’s…
Someone else trilled. Kin, he thought. Kin is here. It’s okay.
Metal clanked and something swished. A flutter of wings.
No. That’s bad. No kin. Danger. Danger? But— no, he tried to tell his instincts, not kin. Dragon.
By Odin. Not even his mind was his own.
The voice spoke more, but it did not sound directed to him. It faded in and out.
Feet padded closer. The clicking of claws made his ears twitch. A low keen, not from him.
Metal, step, metal, step. He knew this gait. Hiccup.
“You found him, bud?”
A presence was above him. His eyes flew open. When did he close them?
Toothless hovered over him, trying to get a look at his back. Get away. Oh gods, get away.
“Don’t touch me!” he hissed, snapping his jaws at the nearest limb. Throbbing pain in his back. His bleeding had lessened, but… His head thudded to the ground once more.
Toothless had flinched back, but a rumbling trill emanated from him, a trill that told him, It’s okay. This, too, was dragon’s speech, even if not in spoken words.
Viggo blinked at him. Once. Twice. His mouth curled back, revealed his teeth, and growled a No.
Curious, how Hiccup was not here yet. Toothless’s ears pressed down and he curled low to the ground. Was he making himself smaller?
Another trill. It’s okay .
Viggo fought his… this dragon body, these cursed instincts, anything that made these desires to surrender himself. Momentarily trusting caged and sleeping dragons was already enough. His rival’s Night Fury?
Hunger raked its way through his insides. Pain prickled across his exposed back. He could only recover so much from lying on his side in a cave. He might become delirious again. He was out of options.
He put as much threat as he could muster into his words. “Watch yourself.”
Toothless hesitated, then turned over his shoulder to warble at someone else.
Hiccup’s nest of hair peeked over the rocks Viggo hid himself behind. At least he had used some sense to hide while suffering from blood loss.
His eyes darted between the two Night Furies. He tiptoed further into view, which almost made Viggo roll his eyes, because he had never seen Hiccup be timid about anything. He carried a pack on his back and a lantern in hand. The sharp scent of salve wafted over. A medicinal pack, then.
“Hey there,” he murmured, as if speaking to a cornered animal. Hel, he might as well be. “Looks like flying away didn’t do you any favors.”
Toothless snorted a Not helpful. Viggo had to agree.
Hiccup lowered the pack onto the ground. “Normally Fishlegs would be rushing forward to patch you up, but…” The skin around his eyes tightened. “He’s got his hands full with the Terrors.”
Viggo refused to feel guilty for defending himself. Hiccup was still. Inhaled. Smiled.
“But, hey, you have the best Night Fury expert this side of the northeast, huh?”
Well— it’s possible. That Hiccup does know more about Night Furies, about the body he was trapped in.
Clang. Flinch. What—
“Oh, sorry,” Hiccup squeaked. He simply set the lantern down, Viggo, gods above…
The boy hovered. Continued. “You gotta be hungry.”
Hunger. Yes. Or— should he take food from an enemy? It’s fine, he remembered, he thinks you’re a dragon.
He inched his head forward. Be careful. Just show interest. What food could he have that Viggo could not smell?
A green, oval-shaped fruit appeared in front of him. It was scentless. Hm.
Hold it still with a paw. He took a nibble. Oh. Good. The rest was gone instantly, and settled in his stomach. A purr erupted from his chest.
“There you go,” Hiccup said. “Everyone likes some sagefruit.”
He doesn’t recognize the name — that’s bad. But his stomach growled.
Another was placed. He ate it. Another. More.
His heart slowed down. It had been fast? Oh, well, it was better, now. Tail was tingly. He was far away again, but like when he was five, and warm. A good warm.
The voice kept rambling. Not deep nor rough, not like his brother. Whatever. More fruit?
A hand to his neck. Small, deft. He should have been alarmed, but the hand began to scratch, oh, yes, just a little higher— and he was pliant.
Rattling metal. The clanging of jars. More rambling. Something wet on his back.
Pain. No, stop. He can’t see who—
“Stop,” he whined uselessly. A roar, not from him, and the pain faded. Slight throb.
The wet came back, with a hand, but slowly. Testing. His muscles tensed, the hand left. Return. Tense again, leave. Return.
It continued on. Something still wet, but warm trickled down. Right. Blood.
A pressure pushed against him. Ow. Fuck. Get off.
It’s okay, someone trilled. It’s okay.
Fine. Okay. There’s been worse, Viggo, stay still.
The dark approached him. Just be still.
. . .
“It seems you’ve gained a bit of a following, brother.”
Viggo glanced at the Night Hunters — or the Night Furies, as they’ve begun to call themselves — that mingled in the distance. They were not quite ready to greet humans outside of Viggo’s circle yet, but it was progress. They liked his brothers just fine.
“Well,” he said coyly, “it’s hardly their fault.” He side-eyed his brother. “And I’m not the only one.”
His brother scratched the back of his head. “Ah, Grimmel’s more built for that than I.”
“Perhaps strategically,” Viggo conceded. “But they respect you as a fellow soldier.”
“And what do the dragons respect you for?”
He paused. It was not as if he was purposefully looking to be followed. He just happened to be brothers with humans, who also happened to be interested in a human-dragon society. Right place at the right time.
“As a bridge,” he finally replied.
“Bridge,” his blood brother repeated in rough Dragonspeak, a smile wide on his face. “Together.”
. . .
A heavy ache sat in the very core of Viggo Grimborn.
That ridiculous thought alone sobered him. The ground was different than before. Wood? Was he back on the ship? Shit. He forced his eyes open to see… wooden bars?
Movement to his right. His head snapped to attention, ignoring the protests of his body.
The figure held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Woah, you’re a lot more awake,” he said, and Viggo recognized him all at once. It was Fishlegs. He was too dumbfounded to growl a threat.
“Hey, big guy,” he continued as he inched closer with a bucket. “You’re not due for a bandage replacement yet, but I bet you’re hungry.” He reached into the bucket and pulled out more of the fruit — sagefruit.
The realization hit him. Hiccup had, succinctly, drugged him and dragged him back to their base. The little shit.
Though… Viggo looked behind him as well as he could, and eyed the bandages with some appreciation. The pain had certainly lessened. And Viggo would be a hypocrite if he said he would not have done the same in Hiccup’s place. Clever boy.
“From Caldera Cay itself,” Fishlegs interrupted, dragging Viggo’s attention back to him. Ah, now it all fits into place. Only Mala, the other thorn in his side, could hide a naturally dragon-calming fruit from him so successfully. Simply another reason to apprehend the island.
“Fool me twice,” Viggo ground out, not that Fishlegs could understand. But he got the message just fine.
He put the fruit back in the bucket. “O-kay, sagefruit is a no. Maybe you’re finally ready for some heavier food.”
Finally ready? How long had he been out of it? Been kept here, practically unconscious, fed sedatives, completely at the will of his enemy? How did they know he couldn’t take heavier food? Had he thrown up? His mind was woefully blank. The last memory he had was a blurred recollection of Hiccup cleaning his wounds.
Viggo’s stomach clenched hard. He had been so weak. It wouldn’t have been smart to put up a fight, he knew, but Hiccup had touched his vulnerable spots, his neck, his scars — it left him cleaved down the middle.
His heartbeat was jackrabbiting. He practically gasped for air, his lungs not working as they should. Maybe he hadn’t recovered as much blood as he’d thought. Or maybe this cursed body had enough and blessedly gave up on him.
You’re overthinking, a voice that sounded a little too much like his mother told him. What are your instincts telling you?
Viggo’s instincts were telling him to escape this cage and maul Fishlegs to death, but that wouldn’t help him break this curse.
Focus on the goal. Everything else comes after.
The dizziness abated. He breathed in deeply, even when he caught the scent of fear and his back muscles spasmed. Hold the breath. Breathe out.
Fishlegs observed with a cautious but blatant interest. It made Viggo’s skin crawl. The pen he was kept in did not help matters. He pushed his snout against the door to find it locked, which he had expected. That, too, made the Rider’s eyes gleam.
It occurred to him, then, that despite the overwhelming stench of dragon, the other pens were empty. Not even the rider’s beloved Gronckle was here.
They sat in silence.
“I am hungry,” he snipped.
“They don’t know Dragonspeak,” a distant voice called out.
He wanted to scream, yell, hit something, do anything, but he was still, frustratingly, exhausted. “Then could you get me any food?”
Fishlegs peered past the open door, his face scrunched up in confusion. “Are you talking to us, girl?”
Ah, so it was the Gronckle. She scuffled around outside.
“You’re scary. And you smell wrong.”
Viggo laid down with a sigh. The Nadder — Stormfly, if Astrid shouting it about every other sentence told him anything — had been pretty clear on that.
“You smell sick,” she had crowed. “You need to leave.”
“Oh, no, don’t look sad,” Fishlegs fussed. He fiddled with his hands for a moment. “You know what, I’ll get you some of Toothless’s favorite fish.” The boy leaned forward, tapping the side of his temple. “Hiccup thinks no one else knows where it is, but I think he’d forgive me, given the circumstances.”
Viggo blinked. He belatedly crooned an Okay, which sent Fishlegs off to the races, lost in his excitement.
This gave him time to think. So, attempting to gain the trust of the other dragons will be difficult if there is something wrong with his scent. The curse, he supposed, but not all the dragons reacted poorly; otherwise that Thunderdrum would have killed him in his sleep.
Thunderdrums, who are not known for a good sense of smell, of course. The caged dragons, besides their initial aggression, had said nothing of the matter, either. But that was likely because they already knew why he smelled wrong. Then, there was Toothless.
If Viggo’s own sense of smell was anything to go by, Toothless surely caught whatever Stormfly and the Gronckle did. And the Zippleback, as he vaguely remembered being threatened by them, but that was probably because he had hit their rider.
Perhaps he was just taking pity on him, or thought he was literally sick. He had been pretty delirious with blood loss. It could not have been a pleasant sight, especially for another of his kind.
Oh, that had to be it. Night Furies were — or, as far as they were aware, as one should never trust a definitive — practically gone from the world. Who knows the last time Toothless had ever seen one? Viggo could work that angle.
Fishlegs returned with another bucket. He opened the stable doors wider, revealing just a bit of his Gronckle, who peered over the edge. The sky was a plethora of hazy grey clouds. Daytime, he was certain, but no sunlight. A storm was coming.
Viggo’s lucky he stopped getting sick of fish a long time ago. Instead of unlocking the door, Fishlegs poured the fish through the bars. Really?
As if sensing his displeasure, Fishlegs winced. “I’m sorry, we don’t want to risk you flying around, what with your injured back and all.”
It was sound. Viggo had flown off after the Nadder spine was removed, after all. But he was not ignorant to the fact that his stall was the only one with a lock. They could not — would not — keep him here for long. This pen was a cage, plain and simple. It would be easy enough to break once he was healed. He had to on principle.
For now, he ate the— wow, this was really good fish. Damn.
“Good, right?”
And Fishlegs smiled at him, like he was trying to befriend him, and the idea of the boy trying to make that face at human Viggo, the actual Viggo, made him snort with derision. If only he knew.
Commotion erupted outside.
“Ugh, he still smells like death and infection had a lovechild,” a dragon groused.
“I dunno, I kinda like it!” another cackled. “It’s unique!” a similar, but not the same voice followed up. The Zippleback.
“Fishface! We got news!” That was in Norse. Snotlout.
Fishlegs turned his head right as the other strode in. “Oh! You caught sight of the storm front?”
Snotlout opened his mouth, but Tuffnut practically latched onto him and waved an arm enthusiastically. “There were so-o many! It was pretty cool.”
“It’ll be less cool once everything’s soaked,” Ruffnut snipped. She remained outside of the stables.
“Ugh, Horns is going to fuss about his emblem again…,” the first dragon muttered. The Monstrous Nightmare, by process of elimination. All the dragons were content to remain outside and out of view.
Fishlegs’s eyebrows creased as he glanced between the other Riders and Viggo. “Okay, that’s not good. Snotlout, could you relay the news to Hiccup and Astrid?”
“What?” Snotlout shrieked. “No way! I gotta start preparations from the storms.”
Fishlegs leveled him with a look. “And by preparations, do you mean covering up your ‘S?’”
The Monstrous Nightmare laughed. Viggo could not help his small chuckle.
At least Snotlout had the wherewithal to look a little embarrassed. His cheeks were pink. “No,” he forced out.
A crack of lightning lit up the dismal sky, a deep rumble of thunder following seconds later. How encouraging.
Fishlegs paled. “Okay, I’ll go. Can one of you watch the Night Fury? Just until I get back.”
“Dude, he’s been in there for like a day and a half,” Tuffnut countered, his latch on Snotlout becoming a lighter sling around his shoulders. “If he was gonna break out and kill us all, he would’ve done it by now.”
Viggo took the information in. A day and half… was not terrible. Unsettling, still, but manageable. Thank Thor for the incoming storms that darkened the sky, lest the sunlight hit him while he was already out of his mind.
“Ruffnut?” Fishlegs called.
“Yeah, sure, fine,” she agreed haphazardly.
“Okay,” he breathed out as he moved towards the stable doors. He looked back. “Please don’t upset him—”
“Fishlegs, we got it,” said Ruffnut, who charged inside, if only to shove the boy out. “Now hop to!”
Fishlegs departed; Snotlout followed soon after.
The Hideous Zippleback shoved its way into the stables with a palpable curiosity. Their riders, however, were less enthused. Despite Tuffnut’s earlier claim, he was significantly further away from the cage than Ruffnut was, while she seemed to almost be putting her body between his and Viggo’s.
It was a little ridiculous; he could easily shoot either of them dead from here, regardless of what they did. But he supposed these stables were meant to house animals they trusted, not to contain beasts that wanted to kill them.
“—and obviously, that was really shitty, but it also looked really cool—”
Viggo blinked. He had completely tuned out the dragon’s incessant rambling before he had even known it was happening. They were talking so fast, and as one, it had sounded like echoing gnats.
“—but yeah, that’s pretty much it. I’m Barf and Belch, who’re you?”
The silence practically hit Viggo in the head, they had been talking so long. The question the silence caused was worse. He hadn’t expected anyone to actually ask him for a name.
He said the first thing that came to mind. “Omen.”
“Ooooh, badass! What name could be made out of that?” the left head — Barf? They hadn’t really specified when speaking as one — wondered aloud. “Ommy,” the right head answered sagely.
This was utterly ridiculous. Viggo shifted his attention back to the twins, who had visibly relaxed after their dragon seemed to take up friendly conversation with him. Well, good.
“How long do I have to be in here?” he ventured, making a show of looking up and down at the currently free dragon.
They blinked. “Oh, if we’re battening down the hatches for storms—” “Even though riding in storms is really fun—” “—right? Don’t know why humans get so nervous about it.” “Except for that time T almost got electrocuted and ousted from the tribe, and then H did get electrocuted, that wasn’t fun.” “Oh, forgot about that! Don’t know what they were thinking with the metal poles.”
These two were worse than the twins. “What are we doing in the event of a storm?” Viggo pressed.
“Oh! Yeah, we’re all going in the stables,” the left head replied. “Except for T, because he can’t leave H alone for five minutes,” the right one added. “You’d think they were attached at the hip.” “Well, it’s more like they’re attached at the leg and tail. Legtail?” “Oooh, good point!”
This was one of the dragons that has been involved in trying to defeat him? Dear gods, this was embarrassing.
Also, how in the name of Kvasir were they going to get the dragons to come into here with him? Agitated dragons, a small space, and Viggo were not an ideal mixture.
“You ever wonder what dragons are talking about?” Tuffnut wondered aloud.
“Sometimes I still wonder what the Hel you’re talking about,” shot back Ruffnut.
Roars and voices echoed in the distance, followed by the clunking of wood and the clanking of metal locks. Preparations have begun.
Sharp sensations prickled his right side. Viggo internally groaned at his wounds. While dragons were remarkably faster at healing than most animals, their bodies were not miracles. In fact, he's unsure if he had ever experienced this much pain before.
A terrible clap of lightning sounded off to the right of him. Faint shrieks succeeded.
The twins glanced at each other and wordlessly hopped onto their dragon, who also knew without exchanging a single word. In a bundle of chaos — “See you later, Ommy!” — they flew off.
He would have appreciated the moment alone, were it not so short lived.
“We’re going into the same space as that dragon?”
“No way!”
“Did you hear what happened to the others?”
“There’s just something wrong about him.”
“C’mon, don’t make this difficult,” Fishlegs pleaded. “He’s not scary, I promise!”
“It’s true,” Fishlegs’s Gronckle offered. “He’s not so bad.”
The horde of Night Terrors came into view, Fishlegs and the Gronckle near the end. Barf and Belch landed to the side, the twins hopping off and leading them inside, though they seemed none too happy about it.
“You’re crazy!” one of the Terrors called, earning the agreement of many.
“Ommy just pretends to be a big scary guy!” Barf laughed. “Deep down he’s all sensitive.”
“Right,” the Gronckle said.
“Ommy?” a Night Terror questioned, causing a wave of other Terrors to part the horde. As it came into view, he recognized why; it was the alpha Night Terror. Who was staring right at him.
“Omen,” Viggo offered. “Barf and Belch don’t speak for me.”
The alpha raised an eye-ridge. “So you don’t pretend to be a big scary guy?”
His head downturned just the slightest. “Not when I don’t have to.”
The Night Terror went silent as he kept staring. Viggo knew when he was being sized up.
“Can’t we just get in and get this over with?” the Gronckle begged. “The humans have to get to safety, too.”
“Fishlegs, what’s with the holdup?” Astrid called from afar.
“Um, just a minute!” said Fishlegs. “The dragons are… bonding?”
“Well, can they bond faster?” Tuffnut huffed, pulling on Belch. “I gotta go get Chicken after this.”
Go get…? Whatever. Viggo kept his focus on the alpha.
“Fishlegs!” Astrid repeated.
“It would benefit us all if we sit in the stables and do nothing,” said Viggo. “Unless you’d like to get struck by lightning?”
The Terror, to his satisfaction, grinned. “Alright, he’s fine.”
“What!”
“See? Said so!”
“Oh, finally, let’s get inside—”
A flurry of wings, talons, and tails hurried by as they were put in stalls. The Riders talked amongst themselves, but the stench of dragons and their fear took his attention. The sheer volume of it nearly gave Viggo a nosebleed. He could only imagine what he smelled like in turn.
Barf and Belch were put into the stall next to his. They started talking, he’s fairly certain, but maybe they stopped at some point. He hadn’t had to deal with this many noises and smells since getting off the ship.
He shuffled himself closer to the corner in an attempt to be unnoticed. Snotlout and Astrid also stopped by to put their dragons in stalls, all four of them focused on the task at hand and seemingly content on giving him space. He heard Hiccup and Toothless, but they did not enter. Well, Viggo had no complaints; less work for him.
Only Fishlegs was left, who fluttered about as he made sure all the dragons were supplied with proper food and water for the night, since he would not be coming back. At last, he put his Gronckle in a stall.
“This is awful,” she whined, despite knowing he won’t understand.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Meatlug,” said Fishlegs. “I promise I’ll come by when I can.”
Rain poured down in great torrents, the wind threatening to push it inside the building. All the dragons hissed in distaste.
“Close the damn doors!” shouted someone.
He hurried to the stable doors. “Alright, I gotta go. See you after the storm!”
The doors closed shut behind him. Water drummed on the roof. Distantly, Viggo suspected that Fishlegs was supposed to lock up the stables.
The lightning continued. He sighed and laid himself down. This was going to be a long night.
Footsteps padded outside. Viggo frowned. They should be inside by now.
The impression of needles stung the back of his neck. His body tightened in expectation. What was it now?
A great boom exploded from above. Viggo swayed back up to a standing position.
The stables rattled as debris came crashing down. Smoke billowed out from the roof. Lightning must have struck the building. How did he…
“What the—”
“Let’s get out of here!”
“Calm down! Panicking won’t get us anywhere!”
The doors burst open, revealing Astrid. She surveyed the damage before springing into action.
She ran to Stormfly’s stall first. “All right, come on you guys!” Then, she opened the one to her right. “We’re moving to the arena before this whole place comes down.”
“We’re going to the arena!” Stormfly repeated. “Let’s go!”
Astrid moved to help more dragons. Viggo summoned his fire and blasted the lock, though not before debris fell onto his back. Stars exploded in his eyes. Screams tore through his throat as he was forced down.
“Stormrider!” Stormfly called.
“It’s okay, girl,” said Astrid, “I’m right behind you.”
The stall door slammed open. Viggo shook his head to see that Astrid stood above him, heaving the debris off his back.
She grunted, “What do you say we blow this joint, big guy?”
Viggo tried to shove the rest off him, but the needles returned to his head and the stables shook once more.
“Stormrider!” the dragon cried out.
Astrid yelled to the heavens and tore the debris away.
He hustled out of the stall and towards the doors when the pain went from needles to a blade across his snout. He halted. She kept running.
He raised a wing in front of himself. “Wait,” he warned—
CRACK!
Astrid flew back onto him with a thud. “Fuck,” he cursed, as his back smarted. He laid her off his wing. She was covered in soot, unconscious. Though she was alive.
“Astrid!”
Viggo snapped his head up to Hiccup sprinting towards them. He flung himself to her and checked her injuries. Toothless whined as he inched forward. No, they needed to get out, not further in!
Viggo wedged his head underneath Astrid’s back and pushed her into a sitting position.
“We need to go,” he growled.
Her weight was lifted from his head. Hiccup began to carry her towards the exit.
More debris crumbled around them. A large wood beam broke from the ceiling, barreling down towards the Riders. He shot it to pieces before the thought of doing so reached him. Hiccup looked back at him— but they didn’t have time to be surprised.
“I said go!”
Come! wailed Toothless. The four of them scrambled outside while the building collapsed behind them.
Rainwater soaked his bandages, the cold clinging to his very bones. He groaned and shook himself as if it would do him any good.
None of the other dragons were here. Not surprising, considering how the stables turned out. He surveyed the immediate area; none of the other buildings seemed to suffer the same damage.
“Gah, the dragons must’ve gotten spooked by the storm,” Hiccup bemoaned. “Okay, we need to get Astrid back to the clubhouse.”
Glancing back to Hiccup, he found both Rider and dragon staring at him. Astrid was settled on Toothless’s saddle, but Hiccup stopped midway.
“Um,” he said tactfully.
It’s not as if Viggo had somewhere else to be. “I’ll follow,” he sighed.
Toothless churred, turning his focus onto what Viggo assumed was the clubhouse. Hiccup fully mounted and took off without so much as another look. Ignoring the protests of his back, Viggo followed suit.
The ride was short, at least, and he soon found himself inside. The other Riders stalled at his presence, temporarily pulling the attention from Astrid until Hiccup started searching for a pillow while still holding her in his arms.
“Let me get that,” said Snotlout as he rushed to the boxes in the corner, pulling out a spare pillow and setting it down. The others crowded around them as Hiccup laid her down. Still, she did not stir.
“Wh— what happened? Is she okay?” Fishlegs stuttered out, moving closer to Hiccup.
“I don’t know,” said he. “We found her like this. The place was collapsing.”
Snotlout’s eyes widened. “What about my Hookfang?” He gestured forward wildly. “Did you see him?”
“Speaking of wayward dragons,” Tuffnut piped up with a pointed finger, “nobody happened to see one Barf and Belch?”
Hiccup turned and flitted his gaze between the twins. “Guys, they got spooked by the storm and took off.” After everyone’s alarm, “But I’m sure they’re fine and they’ll be back.” He put his attention back to the floor. “Right now, I’m worried about Astrid.”
“Sure,” snapped Snoutlout. “Toothless and the Night Fury are right here.” He stuck his arm out towards the two of them, then threw his arms up in the air. “Everything’s peachy for you!”
Viggo snarled at the comment — he refused to be lumped together like he was one of Hiccup’s dragons — while Toothless growled. And Hiccup, well, appeared nothing short of a little murderous.
Snotlout put his hands up in surrender, his voice turning small as he conceded. “Just an observation.”
A groan sounded from below. Everyone snapped their attention to Astrid, who’s eyelids began to flutter.
Feebly, “Hiccup?”
Hiccup hovered over her. Viggo raised an eye-ridge when he put a hand on her hip. “You’re okay. I’m right here.”
She squinted. “Where? I— I don’t see you.” She tried to get up and groaned again, clutching at her face. Hiccup moved to kneel. “Gods, my head…”
Viggo’s eyes widened. The lightning had done more than just knock Astrid unconscious.
“Astrid, you might wanna lie back down—”
She put a hand up to her face as if trying to block out light. “Why is it so bright in here?” she plainted.
“I—” Hiccup faltered, reaching the same conclusion. “It’s… not.”
Astrid’s face scrunched up and she curled her lip. “What are you talking about? It’s— it’s like I’m staring at the sun.”
The Riders looked between each other. Not good, Toothless whimpered.
Hiccup held out his hand. “Astrid…”
Astrid stood up and put her hands out, searching. “Hiccup,” she exclaimed. A little more desperately, “Hiccup!”
Hiccup rose to his feet. Viggo spotted the minute shake in his hands.
Astrid turned around in a tight circle. “I— I can barely see any of you!” She walked forward only to hit her hip on the center table. Hiccup lurched forward to catch her, but she righted herself near immediately. “Somebody say something!”
“Oh…” Tuffnut started with a glance towards his sister, who returned a small shrug. “Uh, your hair looks really nice?” He smiled lopsidedly, Ruffnut nodding encouragingly. “I mean, considering all the fire and lightning, and debris…”
Astrid turned away from him, clutching at her forehead again, her other hand on her chest. Her eyes and mouth were wide in a vulnerable expression Viggo was not familiar with seeing on her face. Hiccup carefully approached her from behind.
“Guys, let me talk to her,” said he. Astrid jerked her head to the side when he put his hand on her shoulder. She took her hand away from her face, which only further exposed her.
The others stood where they were.
“Alone?”
A collection of assents rang out as the Riders made themselves scarce. Viggo alternated between the urge to leave and his curiosity towards how Hiccup acted behind closed doors.
Toothless ambled over and pushed on him. He pulled back to give him what for when he realized how much smaller the other was right beside him. Toothless was about two-thirds his size, and clearly not of the same strength if he had meant to push with any real force.
Viggo imagined the idea of naturally being more powerful than a Night Fury would have been a gratifying thought. Instead, it left him feeling off-kilter. Nothing about this was natural.
Regardless, he took the message as it was. No need to aggravate the situation. Besides, he needed to get these wet bandages off. He took to the door that led further into the base. Viggo generally knew his way around from when his men had ransacked the island.
Fishlegs, who hovered nearby, spotted him. “Oh, do you need help with your bandages?”
He tried to move closer, but Viggo growled at him, and that was that. It was time to find a hiding spot for the night.
. . .
The morning was not much better. Though his wounds had mostly closed, his back was battered and bruised. He could fly, but he preferred to walk where he could.
There was a break in the storm, and the Dragon Riders were scurrying to clean up the remnants of the mess before it got worse.
Viggo observed as Snotlout and Fishlegs scrambled away from a falling door. There was… an effort.
“Ugh, I just wish he’d stop staring at us,” Snotlout griped. “Or at least try to help.”
Fishlegs wiped the sweat off his forehead and found another part of the stables to clean up. “I think he’s just observing our behavior. It’s kind of cool!”
Snotlout joined him, muttering, “More like he’s judging our behavior...”
Well, he wasn’t wrong. Viggo shook his head and made his way up to the clubhouse.
A terrible racket sounded from inside as he grew closer. However, it died down by the time he reached the entrance, the only evidence of its existence in the form of Hiccup’s cowed look, the twins’s surprise, and Astrid’s satisfaction as she sat atop Toothless’s saddle, while the Night Fury himself was far too amused.
“One would wonder if she’s even Berkian,” Ruffnut mumbled to Tuffnut.
“I heard that!”
“Okay, okay,” said Hiccup, who held his hands out placatingly to prevent a repeat of whatever happened. “Then let’s start looking for the dragons now. Ruff, Tuff, go get Snotlout and Fishlegs.”
The twins seemed eager to leave, as they took the order with zero complaint.
Help? Toothless warbled with a curious glance in Viggo’s direction. Hiccup noticed him, then, and his mouth formed an ‘o’.
Astrid perked up and turned her head towards him. “Is it the Night Fury?”
“Oh, there you are,” Hiccup said at the same time with a smile, which implied that Hiccup had tried to look for him, and was pleased by his presence. The concept sent a shudder through him. This was terrible and wrong, yet fascinating all at once.
Hiccup caught the move and frowned. He leaned forward to— to check out his back, Viggo realized, and his brows shot up in surprise. “Well, at least the stables collapsing didn’t seem to reopen anything.”
Astrid sat back and blew out her breath. “That’s good, at least.”
Hiccup and Astrid somehow vibrated where they stood. Hiccup’s body was pitched towards Viggo, no doubt champing at the bit to study him more in-depth. He was grateful that Hiccup at least had the sense to restrain himself. Astrid bit the inside of her lip, likely to keep herself from saying something — probably telling Hiccup to get on with whatever she clearly won an argument about.
It had become a suspicion since last night that Astrid and Hiccup had a different dynamic than Viggo initially pictured. Astrid obviously assumed as the second-in-command. He knew that Hiccup relied on her greatly, and that they were close friends. He had figured if they held any romantic feelings, given Astrid’s bluntness and Hiccup’s verve, that they would have gotten on with it already. Clearly, they had not.
Toothless warbled again, bringing Viggo’s attention back to him. Hiccup’s, too.
“Yeah, bud? What is it?”
Viggo put thought into it. While helping collect the dragons would earn their trust, it could just as easily backfire if his appearance agitated them further. He doubted he could keep up in an aerial conflict, either.
“No,” he replied, “I don’t think my presence would help at the moment.”
Toothless’s wings and ears sagged, but he accepted the answer. Let’s go, he grunted at Hiccup, who watched with a focused gaze.
“Toothless and I are on the same page, at least,” said Astrid with her arms crossed in front of her chest.
Hiccup sighed and approached Toothless’s saddle. “Okay, okay, we’ll get going.” He shot a smile towards Viggo. “Try not to get into too much trouble while we’re gone, yeah?”
Viggo laughed; how could he not? The situation was simply too absurd. But of course, Hiccup was unaware, and took it with mirth before they flew off.
The sky was still dismal, which worked in Viggo’s favor, despite the fact that he’d rather be sleeping right now; t hat was a problem for him to solve later. In the meantime…
Viggo found himself gravitating towards Hiccup’s hut. While the Dragon Riders were no longer in possession of what they dubbed the ‘Dragon Eye’ for some time now, he had no doubt that Hiccup still held the lenses he had found, amongst other items of potential interest.
Pushing up Hiccup’s door, he padded into the space. The tang of metal and ink hit his nose, followed by the undertone of smoke and paper. Fitting.
The desk caught his attention first, tucked away on the very left side of the hut by the stairs. He propped his front feet up on the chair to get a better look. Various papers were strung up on the wall, trinkets and maps strewn about the table, and— Viggo wrinkled his nose. He smelled… himself? It was weak, and he had no idea how he knew it was him. Where…
Off to the right of the table was a box and an axe. He recognized that box.
Hopping off the chair, he circled around and knocked off the lid, only to have his suspicions confirmed. It was the Maces and Talons board that he had offered Hiccup during their first game. It’s not surprising that the Rider had kept it, but pleasing all the same.
Even if he and Hiccup were diametrically opposed, the reality was that neither of them could put down the game. Knowledge and adrenaline were their vices, though he doubted Hiccup would admit that.
Viggo slowly picked the cover up with his teeth and put it back on. He refocused on Hiccup’s sketches, various papers dedicated to the detailing of Toothless’s tail mechanism or drawings of the Night Fury himself. Other sheets were drafts of inventions, some of which Viggo had already seen.
Hiccup’s fire blade — Inferno, as his papers called it — was of particular interest. While Viggo had not gotten to see it up close so far, Ryker’s report of it had certainly piqued his curiosity. It appeared Hiccup was working on extending the blade, improving the storage of Monstrous Nightmare gel, and redesigning its hilt. With a bit of sniffing around, he also discovered some of Inferno’s original designs. Fascinating.
Viggo had been crafting his own ideas the minute he heard of its existence. These sketches only strengthened his desire to build his own. Of course, he had some personal improvements he could put on the blade.
None of that would be achievable until he fixed this curse. He sighed, the gust of air blowing back the pages to reveal more recreational sketches of Toothless. Or… no, that was not quite right. These drawings were less precise, but he could tell the Night Fury was larger, angrier, and with sharper features in its face. In the larger sketch, scars on its… oh. These were drawings of Viggo.
He tried not to squirm. Of course Hiccup would sketch the next Night Fury he saw, but Viggo could not recall the last time someone had bothered to draw him. There was the mural after he officially became chief, but that was over a decade ago. It did not help that he was not lucid for this. Yet, he was curious, as he had not been able to get a proper look at himself.
As he noticed, the lines of the drawings were aggravated, which he admitted was accurate for the past few days. In a sketch of just his head, Hiccup had added a small brush of orange to his eyes. Were his eyes orange? He had expected them to be green, or yellow. How unusual. Perhaps it was because he was cursed, rather than being an actual dragon. The scratches on his face had not gone away, either. He seemed to have more tendrils on his jaw and his ear appendages were longer than Toothless’s. An indicator of age?
The only full-body sketch Hiccup drew was of Viggo curled up on himself, unconscious. The scales around his eyes were bunched up, his face pensive even in sleep. His back was without bandages, revealing the variety of claw marks he had earned. The Night Terrors had put up a good fight, if only due to their numbers. Viggo’s cephalic and dorsal fins were sharper, though his tail fins were relatively the same. Although his body was still streamlined, he had greater muscle mass than Toothless, but he’d guessed that already. If he squinted, he could make out the round, gentle lines of markings across his body. Viggo had never truly examined those on Toothless before. They reminded him of a sea creature he had seen far down the southern regions of his travels.
The pictures were made with passion and detail. The dedication… pushed something strange in Viggo’s stomach. Again, it was only natural of Hiccup to do this, but having it directed at him in this manner was anything but. The sketches were well-cared for.
The sky darkened. If another storm was going to hit, he certainly did not want to be stuck in here. He pushed the chair back in and hustled out of the hut, making sure to close the door behind him.
A booming vibration tickled his ears, causing them to flick. He turned towards the feeling and spotted a purple ring emanating in the sky. A plasmatic distress signal.
Stretching out his wings inch by inch, he rolled his shoulders and back. Getting into a fight would only prolong his recovery, but Viggo couldn’t very well let Hiccup die after coming this far, now could he?
He took to the sky, rain beginning to whip across his face. Gods, how did the Riders not have more marks on their faces from hitting things at such high speeds? It would not kill them to wear masks of some kind.
Viggo soared downstream by the mountainside. Soon enough, he spotted the Gronckle and the Zippleback in the sky. Except, once he got closer, it was Snotlout on the Gronckle— what happened to Fishlegs?
Below them, Toothless fired a shot. Viggo’s breath caught as he saw the dragon — the Triple Stryke. No doubt, it must be the one that Ryker had lost. The dragon flipped in the air, whipping its tail with a click-click-click, and thrusted it into the ground where Hiccup, Toothless, and Stormfly were moments ago. Why was he attacking them? Hadn’t they freed him?
The Triple Stryke began to set fire to the field, not even aiming at anyone. The action hit Viggo in his gut. He had seen this before, in men. Those who spent time in a dungeon, who came back incomplete. The dragon screamed, but said nothing, because it wasn’t as if words would do anything to help him.
They needed to de-escalate this, somehow.
Viggo spotted Astrid behind a rock formation, her head angled towards the battle, brows furrowed in concentration. He glided down near her, causing her to jump.
“Toothless?”
No, he rumbled, not bothering with a verbal response.
Astrid blinked and turned away to stare at him. “How did…" She cocked her head. "You must have seen the distress signal.”
The Stryke’s tail wound up as he attempted to slash at Hiccup. Astrid fell silent to put her ear to the conflict.
The other dragons thudded on the ground behind them.
“Ommy!” Barf and Belch cheered.
“Astrid!” shouted Snotlout, hopping off of the Gronckle. “Thank Thor, all I could think about was—”
Astrid shushed Snotlout, who thankfully stopped approaching them. The Triple Stryke launched another tail assault at the others. He took to the air, breathing fire again before Stormfly knocked him with her head. He wound his tail up for a counterattack.
“Do you guys hear that?” Astrid asked. “It’s that same sound before every attack.”
Snotlout looked at the twins. “Uh, what is she talking about?”
Viggo nodded, then remembered that Astrid couldn’t see it.
“Uh, guys, a little help over here would be nice!” called Hiccup, Toothless wailing for help at the same time. He pointed to the wild dragon. “We need to surround it! It can’t hit us all at once!”
The other Riders followed Hiccup’s order, but Astrid’s expression stayed contemplative. She might be onto something.
Viggo knew that Night Furies can echolocate. Perhaps, if… Viggo tried to click his tongue in the same pattern of the tail. She whipped to face him, her eyes wide.
“Can you do that again?”
Viggo tried it again. He put more work into accurately replicating the pitch of the clicking. He was a little too high, but shockingly close if he approached it more like a croak than a click. If he could replicate the noise, then—
“That’s it!” She stood up and shouted, “Stormfly, come, now!”
Stormfly separated from the fight to make her way towards Astrid. She stopped short when she spotted Viggo.
“What are you doing here?” she crackled, keeping her gaze pinned on him even as Astrid approached her.
“We have a plan,” he replied coolly.
“We gotta get the Triple Stryke into a corner,” Astrid unknowingly followed up, “and then replicate the noise. Are you both with me?”
“Always, Stormrider.”
“After you, Astrid.”
Astrid pulled on the reins and the two took off, Viggo following on foot. He came upon the Triple Stryke stampeding towards Hiccup and Toothless and fired a shot towards the dragon’s feet. Stormfly followed up with a spine shot.
“What?” Hiccup gaped at him. “When did you get here?”
“Hey,” Tuffnut called from the river, “when did Astrid get her sight back?”
“Uh, she didn’t.” Hiccup glanced up at Stormfly. “Astrid, what are you doing?”
“I got this, Hiccup!” she responded. “I’ve been listening to you guys getting your asses kicked and I’m sick of it. Besides, we have a plan!”
“We?” Hiccup intoned.
She circled around before closing in. Viggo watched the Triple Stryke for its next move. He wound his tail in anticipation, but both Viggo and Stormfly met him head on. The Stryke continued to back up until he met the rocks behind him.
Stormfly landed, and Astrid hopped off. “You still with me?”
Yes, he whirred as he weaved through Stormfly’s shot tail spines.
She crept forward with her hands out until she grabbed two of them. She pulled them out of the ground and continued forward. Viggo kept himself close behind.
Away! the Triple Stryke roared.
“Astrid, no!” yelled Hiccup. “You two need to get out of there!”
“Quiet, Hiccup,” she snipped, “I’m dealing with it.”
The dragon snapped his jaws and hissed, winding his tail in anticipation. Viggo copied the sound. The Stryke came up short, his ear appendages twitching.
“That’s it,” Astrid murmured, copying the clicks herself with the spines.
Kin? he rattled, looking around for dragons that weren not there. Viggo followed up with more clicks.
“They’re using the clicks to distract it,” marveled Hiccup.
Astrid clicked. Viggo clicked. Again. Again.
Where? the dragon wailed.
By the time the Triple Stryke noticed them, they were right in front of him. Astrid put the spines away and held out an empty hand to him.
He rumbled in surprise, watching her carefully for a moment. Viggo held his breath. Then, the Stryke trilled a hello and put his snout to Astrid’s hand. She giggled in wonderment, while Viggo exhaled and put some distance between them and him.
Hiccup and the others approached from behind. “And that’s how we get close enough to train it!”
“Amazing,” commented Snotlout.
“Hey, how did the Night Fury copy the noise so well?” Tuffnut piped up. “We’ve never seen Toothless do that.” He pointed an accusatory finger at said dragon. “Are you holding out on us, T?!”
Toothless gave an unsure warble, his eyes flicking to Viggo for assistance.
“Well, if I had to take a guess,” Hiccup started as he pushed Tuffnut’s arm down, “it probably has to do with how they make noises for echolocation. Toothless just hasn’t had to use it for any other reason yet.” He put a hand on Toothless’s head and scratched his scales, much to the dragon’s pleasure. He glanced at Viggo, a dangerous flash in his eye. “But I wonder what else we haven’t learned…”
Viggo shot a curt look towards Hiccup. As curious as they both were, he was content to stay understudied, if only to spare his own pride.
“How’d Astrid do that, anyway?” asked Ruffnut. “She can’t see a thing.”
Hiccup shook his head with a smile. “She doesn’t need to. She’s using her other senses; hearing, touch, smell, following her gut…”
Screams from above grabbed Viggo’s attention. In the distance, a flaming mass — the Monstrous Nightmare?
Astrid grinned. “Speaking of which, I’m sensing something big and out of control heading for us.”
“No!” screamed Fishlegs as the Monstrous Nightmare dived to the ground. So, that’s where they were. “This is not respect!”
“Put yourself on the axe,” the dragon muttered.
Snotlout sighed. “Welcome to my world, Fishface.”
“I had sent our fastest Terror for Gothi last night when the rain let up a bit,” Hiccup said. “I told her to come as soon as possible. She’ll probably be here by tomorrow morning. In the meantime, we should get back to the Edge.”
Sometime amidst the chaos, the rain had ceased. The skies were still bleak, but it would not stay that way forever. Viggo needed to find another spot, since the cavern was not an option.
The Triple Stryke pushed himself away from Astrid and waved his wings around. Wait! he creaked. Everyone paused at the new commotion, most of all Viggo, whom the dragon was currently approaching.
“Th— thank— thank you,” he stuttered, bowing his head low. His head appendages shrilled as they rubbed together, and he wound up his tail before aborting midway, then repeated the process again. It seemed like an attempt to be friendly. “I was… was an-ngry.”
If only he knew whose brother had put him in the ring in the first place. Would he be grateful then?
Viggo bowed his head in return. “I’m glad I could help.”
“Sunspear,” the dragon chirped. “You?”
“Omen.”
Sunspear playfully clicked his tail again. Viggo attempted to copy it, his voice cracking from the unusual strain. The other was delighted anyways, his red eyes bright and clear.
“This is incredible,” said Fishlegs in wonderment. “The Triple Stryke isn’t scared of him at all.”
All the other dragons save Toothless and the Zippleback were squinting at Sunspear, as if trying to figure out what was wrong with him.
“Do I smell… wrong, to you at all?” Viggo ventured, finding himself genuinely curious for the answer.
Yes, he trilled. “Ca-an’t judge,” he added. “Me too.”
Now that it was mentioned, he inhaled deeply, hit with the rot of blood and iron. It certainly was not pleasant.
Sunspear shook his body out with a cackle. “Friend?”
Oh, no, this was a terrible idea. But, also one that might gain him more trust with the others, and could provide him a shelter away from the base.
“Sure,” said he. “We can be friends.”
“It wasn’t just him,” Stormfly mumbled with a flap of her wings.
Sunspear flinched and looked down. “So-orry...”
At his anxiousness, she shuffled her feet and lowered her head. “I apologize, I didn’t mean…”
I’m okay! he chirped, his face upturned, albeit slightly strained. It seemed like something he forced himself to say often. A thought occurred to Viggo
“Are you hurt at all?” he asked. It would not do if to get all this far only to unknowingly set him off again. Though, he supposed they might not need a physical injury for that.
No, the dragon clicked. He paused for a moment, lazily flicking his tails back and forth. He chirruped, Hungry.
Viggo chuckled. “I’m sure we can fix that, then.”
“Not to interrupt the excellent bonding right here, except that I do, because I want to go home,” the Monstrous Nightmare — Hookfang, he thinks, interrupted with a withering look at Stormfly. A shrill erupted from Sunspear’s head as he flinched again.
Sorry, he creaked. Viggo gained the feeling that the other would remain nonverbal for some time.
“Champion,” Stormfly chided, which pulled Viggo up short. Did they have… different names for each other? Is that why Barf and Belch decided to call him 'Ommy'? He had thought it was a nickname. He still would think that, except that he can’t imagine Stormfly ever willingly calling someone Champion. How in Odin’s name were they meant to keep track of that?
“Oh, it has nothing to do with you, Sunny,” replied Hookfang, his snout in the air. “But there’s no reason for all of us to stand around spectating.”
Barf and Belch cackled in agreement. “Ugh, yeah, let’s go blow shit up!”
“Sunny,” the Gronckle (Meatlug?) mused. “That’s a good one. Is that alright with you, Sunspear?”
Sunspear’s eyes went wide as he purred with delight, as though this process had not happened to him before. Ryker had not captured him too long ago, but perhaps he had been alone for some time beforehand.
The others, who were already adjusted to Toothless’ nonverbal manner, took the response in stride. The Riders were a little put out of the conversation, though Hiccup’s and Fishlegs’s eyes were practically sparkling. Viggo rolled his eyes with a huff. They would lose their minds if they truly knew what the conversation was about and its implication of dragon culture.
Which was… certainly what this was. He knew dragons were intelligent — he would be a fool to not think so, having lived the life he has, but being intelligent for an animal and having intelligence comparable to humans were two different subjects. It was one thing to adapt to better ensure survival; it was another to actively retain and enforce social rules.
Toothless, who had been largely observing, brushed up against him with a questioning warble. Viggo bristled at the contact and moved away.
“Don’t do that,” said he. “I didn’t like it the first time, either.”
Toothless paused, then hung his head. Sorry, he whined.
Viggo would have described the other’s appearance as pathetic, except he was having a difficult time looking at him head-on.
Sunspear drew himself out of the conversation he seemed to be having with the others. He tilted his head.
Viggo huffed, “I’m alright. Just tired, that's all.”
The dragon nodded with a tight mouth. He trotted to stand right beside him with an obvious intent to not touch him. He inhaled deeply and screeched, “Go away!” at the other dragons. Viggo’s ears went flat on his head at the volume.
A collection of hissed swears rang out, but the other dragons respected the order and backed away towards their riders.
“Woah! Guess that’s it for the Sleuther show,” Tuffnut said with his hands out in front of him.
Turning his head around to peer at Viggo, Sunspear’s eyes were glistening. By the gods, what did he get himself into?
He cleared his throat. “Thank you, Sunspear. Your thoughtfulness is appreciated.”
“I’ll show you something to appreciate,” muttered Hookfang.
Astrid laughed with a wide smile. “I think that’s the sign to get going.” She raised her hand towards the general direction of Stormfly, who put her nose on her hand immediately.
“I suppose we’re done here, anyway,” Stormfly clucked gently.
Ruffnut threw her arms in the air as everyone mounted their dragons. “Again, how can she read signs? I thought she was still blind!”
The others chuckled as they flew off. Only Astrid, Stormfly, Hiccup, and Toothless remained.
Hiccup watched her. “Astrid?”
“I just wanted to say thank you,” she said towards Viggo, “for helping. Clearly, it meant a lot.”
A delicate smile graced Hiccup’s features like hope slowly waking up.
Clearly. A wrongness wrapped its tail around his stomach and squeezed.
Viggo nodded once more, betraying nothing. “You’re welcome.”
“You coming back with us?” asked Hiccup. Toothless perked his ears up at the suggestion, while Stormfly shuffled her feet again, but neither voiced an opinion for or against.
“Sunspear,” he started slowly, “do you have access to an enclosure that blocks out the sun?”
“Yes!” he exclaimed. He pulled his wings in close. “It’s not bi— not big, but…”
“I won’t need it for long. Just to sleep.” Viggo turned to the Riders. “Go on. I will return later.”
Okay, Toothless trilled.
“Try not to get into any more trouble,” Stormfly warned, which he thinks is the least negative thing she’s said to him thus far. It’s the little things in life.
Hiccup simply nodded, still wearing that awful smile on his face as they left.
Sunspear flicked his tail. “Are you— hungry, at all?”
While he was, he wanted to rest more than anything. He shook his head. “Not at the moment, thank you. Could you show me to the den?”
“Sure!” he replied, dragging out the ‘s’ with a hiss. He turned around and, interestingly enough, did not take flight. “Fo— Follow me!”
They walked to the den. It was not that far away from the river— which made sense of the conflict. The Riders must have unknowingly walked into what he considered his territory, which had frightened him.
Sunspear was right; the den was not that big. The walls were made of uncompromising stone. Unless they resorted to sleeping up against each other, they would have to tuck rather uncomfortably.
“I’ll ge-et food for— for you, too,” he offered. Or, no, not offered, Viggo realized as he peered up at him. His set features reminded him of the expression Ryker often wore when he broke into Viggo’s quarters — “You either go to the mess hall to eat right now, or I will drag you there!” — the thought amusing and painful.
Okay, he murmured.
Sunspear nodded, mollified, and left with another friendly click of his tail.
Ryker. What was he doing right now? Had he ordered a more widespread search for Viggo, or was he being cautious and decided to keep the information close to his chest? It would be easy to play off Viggo’s absence to the soldiers; it was the other players at the meeting that concerned him.
Krogan. A man that had both his respect and his ire. While he referred to himself as a freelancer, Viggo knew that Krogan had strong ties back to the Northern Alliance, which meant he was tied to Drago Bludvist. Too many groups that Krogan had ‘freelanced’ for soon fell prey to the ever-growing armada for him to think otherwise.
It was to Viggo’s shock when he had received the news that Krogan was going to the dragon auction, which quickly fell to his suspicion and worry. He would not consider himself to be allied with the Northern Alliance, least of all Drago, but too much was at risk to directly oppose the madman. They worked in each other’s peripherals, Viggo’s people containing too many important pieces for the other to wipe them completely off the board.
Of course, Krogan had tried to convince Viggo that he was only a proxy for a more southern buyer interested in certain goods, which is why he had come so far down to visit. If that were actually true, Viggo would just kill him and take up the job himself. But if the buyer were Drago, well…
He could not take that chance. But since the Fates loved him so, Ryker had tried to con the man with a bounty that Viggo most certainly had not placed, leaving him to deal with a rather angered Krogan at his doorstep. Were it not for…
He shook his head out. To ruminate on this is pointless. He needed to sleep, eat, and come up with a plan to get the Dragon Riders to the business meeting. He could deal with the fallout once he was actually able to.
Viggo prepared to lay himself on the ground, but the chill dug itself underneath his scales. Hm. Viggo had deduced that Night Furies possess the ability to control the intensity of their blasts, if Toothless blasting both his men and his ships and only obliterating one of them was anything to go by. If he could manage a low flame, he could warm up the stone floor.
Gently cradling the fire in his gut, he put his mouth closer to the floor and imagined a concentrated flame. The stone heated up beneath him and quickly became sooty. He moved around in an oval shape to evenly distribute the heat. Satisfied, he finally laid down.
Warmth enveloped him in its embrace, dragging him into a dreamless sleep.