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Even before he had a partial limb riddled with pain every time the weather changed, Hiccup hadn't enjoyed winter. It was a time of scarcity, and not just dragon-enforced scarcity.

He puffed out a sigh and watched it billow in white steam. With a smile he remembered when he'd pretended he was a Smothering Smokebreath, trying to steal a honey-candy from Gobber.

Now, however, he had work to do. With great reluctance he crawled out of bed and put his leg on. Toothless was annoyed by the weather too; he'd had to wake up and reheat his stone in the night. He grumbled as Hiccup slapped his shoulder to wake him.

Hiccup winced as he flexed his fingers; the cold got into his joints and made it painful to bend them until they were warm again. "Come on, bud," he said, sticking his freezing hands under his arms. "Let's get some breakfast."

Of course, that was easier said than done. He slipped twice on the frosty walkways, almost falling off the second time and only managing to save himself by grabbing Toothless.

In the clubhouse, Snotlout was stoking the fire to a hearty glow. The twins, up early for once, had hauled in some fish that they were now roasting. Astrid saw Hiccup come in with a limp and pointed firmly to a chair by the fire. He grinned and sat down; there was no arguing.

"Good morning," Fishlegs said. He handed Hiccup a cup of steaming tea. "Willow bark. Is it bad today?"

Hiccup tested his joints and winced. "Yeah. I'll be okay once I warm up." Fishlegs nodded, satisfied, and went to warm up as well. The twins were bickering with Snotlout over the heat from the fire, Astrid was rolling her eyes, and Toothless curled up with a contented grunt around Hiccup's chair. As bad as winter was, Hiccup reflected, the cold couldn't reach his heart with friends like these.

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The blow landed before Hiccup was ready for it. He staggered into the side of the cage, failing to stop a yelp as his head hit the bars.

"Tell me where those lenses are," Krogan snarled. He'd used the butt of his spear that time, but his malice suggested he might switch ends if Hiccup didn't cooperate.

"I've told you, I don't know where they are!" Hiccup snapped. This was true; the Flyers had arrived before Atali could reveal it to him and Snotlout. He'd tried to lead the Flyers away from the cave where the Wingmaiden chief lay injured, but the Flyers had been too good: one had launched a bola at him and snared him right off Toothless’s back. He’d panicked, thinking that Toothless would crash without him, but another Singetail had swooped in and caught him too.

"You are lying," Krogan growled. "You will obey me or your dragon pays the price!" Toothless, muzzled and caged, tried to roar defiance. "I already know threatening you is useless," he continued, and whipped the spear around to strike Hiccup again, this time in the stomach. "Viggo was right. You are entirely weakened by your love for these beasts."

Hiccup gritted his teeth. Viggo had demonically fascinating intellect, and he treated outsmarting Hiccup like a game. Krogan, however, simply delighted in his objective of inflicting pain, human or draconic.

As if to prove this point, Krogan dropped the spear and seized Hiccup by the collar, thrusting him back against the cage and making his head hit the bars again. "Tell me where they are!"

Hiccup opened his mouth to spit on Krogan, and then Snotlout appeared... flying with wings of silver?

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Johann caressed Heather's cheek. Any comfort derived from such a gesture was ruined by his sneer and the ropes around her wrists.

She knew she shouldn't have gone by herself; the Northern Markets were somehow even LESS safe than before, now that Johann was openly hostile. But... could she live with the fact that she couldn't get herself out of any sticky situation?

"Don't snarl at me, girl," Johann snapped, pinching her chin. "My buyers want a pretty girl, and that glower of yours is not attractive." He laughed at the expression of horror which had replaced her death-glare.

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It was an itchy strip of sack-cloth. This was the least of his problems.

He'd been sleeping peacefully and then, out of nowhere, he'd been snatched out of slumber by unknown assailants who were bundling him off to Thor knew where.

Fishlegs fought back a whimper of terror. He'd never dealt well with the stress of being captured; not as brave as Hiccup, not as feisty as Astrid or Snotlout, not as oblivious as the twins...

One of the two dragging him stumbled and cursed. His eyes under the rough blindfold widened in shock, then narrowed in anger.

The others sometimes forgot that beneath his kindly (and squishy) exterior, he was quite strong. The physical strength usually manifested under stress, but fury was just as good.

He stopped dead, not just ceasing movement, but rooting his feet firmly. The two kidnappers stumbled and clutched his arms to avoid falling, but he didn't give them time to recover. He swung his arms hard, spinning like a dancer to wrench them off their feet. When he felt and heard them collapse, he shook his arms free and ripped off the blindfold.

"This isn't funny, you two!" he yelled at the twins, who were groaning at his feet. "Next time you pull something like this, Hiccup will hear about it!"

"Oh, Hiccup’s heard about it," said a voice from above them. They'd been passing along the walkway under Hiccup's hut, and the Viking in question was now glaring over the side of his platform. "Tuff, Ruff... come and talk with me."

Fishlegs watched them slouch off, the blindfold still clutched in his hand.

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Astrid twisted, thrashed, bit, kicked, spat. She was damned if she was going to go down without a fight, and she would take as many of the Outcasts down with her as she could.

Her Heather disguise had been lost, and now she was on her own. The others weren't appearing, and there were too many Outcasts... but she was going to fight the whole way.

Alvin stepped forward when four, then five of his men staggered away from her, clutching wounds or bruises. One man was unconscious, but Alvin ignored him and reached for Astrid.

A burst of adrenaline lent her the strength to dodge him, then grab a knife from the fallen man. Alvin wasn't quick enough and got a slice across the back of his hand.

"Dammit!" he roared, shaking the wounded hand. "You hellcat! Savage, get me some rope!" Astrid tried to slip past him while he was distracted, but he grabbed her arm and slammed her against the wall. "You put up a good fight," he told her, grinning nastily. "You fight like a feral dog, girl."

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The ship lurched to the side as something smashed into it. Hiccup tumbled off his stool and hit the floor hard, skinning his palms.

Viggo was picking himself off the floor too, and his smug expression had changed to one of fury. There was nothing Hiccup could do but scramble backwards across the floor as he advanced.

"You and your riders," he hissed. "I was prepared to let you watch their fates, but now it seems i must give you yours early!"

His hands shot out and seized Hiccup by the collar. Viggo was stronger than he looked and wrenched Hiccup to his feet. Before Hiccup could pull away, though, Viggo's hands were around his throat.

He hadn't expected this, hadn't managed to catch a breath before the pressure was cutting off everything. He heard his heartbeat throbbing in his ears. His own strangled gasping. Distantly, crashes and explosions from the other ships. He felt Viggo's wrists in his own hands. But none of that registered; the only things Hiccup was aware of were the burning sensation and Viggo's face, full of a frightening malice he'd not seen before.

And then it was over as they were thrown to the floor again by another explosion.

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It was as if everything had been leading up to this. From the time he'd taken the mantle of Chief to the moment his eyes met Hiccup's, it was as if it was all leading here. Viggo drank in the frenzied cheers and yells from the crowd and turned to his brother.

"Get the boy," he said, unable to contain his smile. "I want him to see this." Behind him, the Night Fury tried to roar through its muzzle to no effect. The crowd was still excited, so he turned to them to describe the Night Fury’s many and varied properties. He'd rehearsed this a dozen times and let his mind wander.

How would Hiccup react to his precious dragon being sold away from him? Would he panic? Would he remain icily calm? He probably wouldn't shed a tear, not in such a vulnerable position. But he might prove unpredictable under this level of stress.

Before he had run out of things to say about the Night Fury, Ryker had returned with a bound Hiccup. He looked as furious as his dragon, and was giving Ryker trouble by thrashing and kicking. Viggo smirked at him. Such spirit, even now.

He turned to the crowd. "Let us begin the bidding!" he shouted. All the blood left Hiccup’s face as he realized how many of these men wanted to buy his dragon.

Viggo listened carefully to the hollered bids and singled out the highest.

"Ten thousand coins? Do I hear fifteen from anyone?" Immediately he heard fifteen. "Twenty? Twenty five?"

The bids ran higher and higher, with Hiccup looking more and more ill with every bid. Ryker had dropped him next to the cage and he was trying to reach his dragon through the bars with little success.

"One hundred thousand gold pieces," a man said, standing up. A groan rose from the crowd; no one had even come close.

"One hundred thousand," Viggo agreed. "Ha, for that price, my friend, you can have the boy too!"

Hiccup’s head jerked up as the crowd burst into laughter.

"Auction him off separate!" someone shouted, to more laughter.

Viggo chuckled himself, and was considering it... until an explosion and a wave of fire rocked the auction stands.

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The arrow thudded into the wall next to Hiccup's head, forcing him to freeze instead of running right into it. Viggo cursed and dropped the rope he had tied to Hiccup's bound hands. "That was too close, Krogan!"

The hunter in question laughed from the back of his Singetail and hefted his crossbow. "What do you care? Johann sent me to bring him back to the base, right now. Give him to me!"

Hiccup's heart sank; the last time Krogan had captured a rider, in this case Snotlout, he'd tortured a hatchling Changewing to death in front of him.

"Don't," he said to Viggo. "I'll stay with your ship." It wasn't like Viggo was a saint. Nowhere close; but at least he only wanted to do terrible things to Hiccup, not to dragons. He wasn't the sadist Krogan was proud to be.

Viggo raised an incredulous eyebrow. "You know I am loath to let you out of my company, my dear," he replied with a wink. Hiccup ground his teeth and ignored it. Krogran growled incomprehensibly and soared off.

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Ruffnut lowered her head and let it hang. She was too tired to hold it up anymore, and besides, what was there to see in the ugly cell that she hadn't seen already? A full canteen of water certainly wouldn't have materialized since the last time she'd scanned the stained stone walls.

Water... she took it for granted so often, of course: using bucketfuls to slosh over Barf and Belch when they got dirty, putting Snotlout's hand into a warm cup of it when he slept, washing in it (though that was as infrequent as she could), even pouring it out or watching her rain-barrel overflow.

Now, of course, she was cursing herself for every drop she'd let fall through her fingers. If she got out of here, she'd never take it for granted again.

If; she'd said "if" that time, not when. Vaguely, she remembered one of Fishlegs' safety lectures about how long a body could go without water or food, and that it had been significantly less on the matter of water. A week? Mere days?

The door to the cell creaked open. It wasn't even locked; the chains holding her up were restraint enough. Her visitor laughed nastily.

"Ready to tell us where you hid the Dragon Eye, dragon rider?" Ryker asked. He'd brought something with him: Ruffnut's eyes widened. it was a full canteen of water. He noticed her staring and proffered it. She couldn't reach, of course. "You'll get all the water you like when you tell us where it is," he said.

Loyalty fought with self-preservation. If she told him, she'd be betraying the gang. But... if she didn't she would almost certainly die a gruesome death. Self-preservation kicked loyalty in the face.

"It's on Berk," she lied, eyes locked on the canteen. "Hidden in the Great Hall. Mural of a dragon, carved out a nook and stuffed it in there."

The canteen landed at her feet. Ryker withdrew some keys, unlocked one of her wrists, then marched out without another word.

"Ha," Ruffnut muttered. "Idiot."

The water was even better than she could have hoped for.

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Snotlout stared blankly at his abdomen. Usually, it didn't have the hilt of a knife emerging from it. It did now, that was certain. The baby Razorwhip on his back keened in terror as he staggered and fell to his knees.

"No!" The voice was loud, distressed, and somewhere behind him. "Snotlout, can you hear me?!"

He could hear her. He was preoccupied by watching blood blossom around the knife. It much darker than he expected. A vague irritation surfaced; it'd be impossible to get this stain out.

Minden reached him and clutched his shoulders. "Snotlout! Snotlout, you've got to stay with me!" Her face was streaked with blood, but probably not hers. "They've taken Hiccup Haddock somewhere, there are more Flyers everywhere, and I don't know what to do!"

The effort made his muscles scream, but Snotlout put a hand on her face. "Save the day, Mindo."

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She'd known those spines were deadly, of course. They were called Deadly Nadders for a reason. But staring at the one that had landed, quivering, between her feet, she realized just how sharp they were.

"Astrid!" her mother screamed from across the plaza. Astrid looked up. Above her, perched on the peak of the roof behind her, was a Deadly Nadder.

It tilted its head at her, as if wondering why its dinner wasn't running and screaming like it usually did. Instinct wanted her to do just that, but a stronger voice told her that if she ran she was marking herself as prey. The next spine wouldn't miss.

Her mind gave her a well-detailed image of her own demise, a spine just like the one at her feet piercing her head from one side to the other, so that she would have horns like a helmet. The picture grew in clarity as the moment stretched out, and then the Nadder screeched.

Astrid squeezed her eyes shut, ready for the blast of agony as the spine punctured her skull, but it didn't come.

Instead, obeying its own inscrutable whims, the Nadder and the other dragons around Berk abandoned their attack and flew off to their mysterious home again.

Even after she'd been fussed over by her parents and insisted to them that she was fine, she couldn't get the image of a spine bisecting her head out of her mind.

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It was with mixed feelings that Astrid regarded the mess.. On the one hand, her father would be proud of her and the extent of her training. The dummy had been no match for her axe, and had exploded into straw after her onslaught.

On the other hand, however, he might be less than pleased to see that her vigor and strength had resulted in her chipping the axe-blade on the ground. It wasn't her fault her final strike had been a powerful downward strike so intense that the blade had struck the ground.

It wasn't like she hadn't broken a weapon or two before, but this was her first real axe, made for her and only her. It even had her name burnt into the handle, right where her hands could grasp the runes.

She examined the edge with a critical eye. Hm... no cracks radiating through the rest of the metal, the handle wasn't compromised... could she perhaps pass it off as a type of battle scar? Maybe...

She sighed. It wouldn't do to have a damaged weapon. She'd have to go see if that little twerp Hiccup could fix it.

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Viggo smirked as the man across the table from him raised his flagon and drained it. With luck, he wouldn't taste the edge to his ale or recognize what it meant.

He drank from his own flagon which had not been tampered with. The fool across the table smiled broadly at him. Viggo's toxin may not have hit him yet, but the several other ales he'd already consumed had.

"Whaaddidoo say yer name wasss?" he slurred, leaning over the table.

"I didn't," Viggo replied. It would do him no good to be recognized here. The mass of scarring on his face hadn't finished healing, he really should be lying low... but the temptation to teach this fool a lesson had been too strong. Several wretched hours in the privy would do.

"Go onnn," the man moaned, slapping is hand down. "Yer my friend! So, whassur name?"

With an unexpected pang, Viggo answered, "Call me Ryker."

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There was always a jolt in the stomach when the brain realized that there was no way to pull up from the doomed spiral. Snotlout felt that jolt as Hookfang screeched in pain.

The Whispering Death they'd been herding away from Berk had shot a mouthful of teeth at them, and Hookfang had loyally thrown up a wing to block them from hitting Snotlout.

Now, however, that wing flailed uselessly as they plummeted.

"Hooky, hold on!" he cried, trying to steer them. Hookfang screeched again as the wing twisted, and Snotlout could see blood.

With a roar of effort, however, Hookfang managed to spread the wing and turn the plummet into a steep glide. Now, instead of hitting the ground, they were on course to hit the slope next to the Great Hall. Snotlout gritted his teeth and clutched Hookfang's horns, ready for the worst.

Another jolt hit him and almost launched him out of his saddle. Looking around frantically, he saw that Barf, Belch, and Stormfly had caught Hookfang by the uninjured wing and his tail, slowing him down enough so that the crash wouldn't kill him and his rider.

"Thanks!" Snotlout yelled as Hookfang glided to a very rough landing.

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Tuffnut should have known not to argue with Fishlegs' medical advice. When he said 'stay off that leg,' he probably meant it.

Well, thinking about how he 'should' have done something wasn't going to get him out of this situation, so what was the point? Anyway.

Now, the problem at hand was how to get up from this embarrassing position at the bottom of the stairs. He'd been trying to get over to his weapons rack; if he couldn't go flying, he might as well polish Macey.

"Tuff?" a voice called from outside the hut. "What happened? I- I thought I heard you yelling?"

Oh great, here was Fishlegs.

"Uh, nothing at all! All fine and dandy here," Tuffnut called back, trying to inject cheeriness into his tone. It didn't work, as his voice was strangled with pain.

The door opened and Fishlegs entered with a groan of exasperation. "Oh, Tuffnut! I told you to take it easy; are you okay?"

Tuffnut opened his mouth to joke, but a twinge of pain forced him t be honest. "I think my leg's worse now."

After a careful examination, Fishlegs sighed. "I think you've torn something, Tuff. Congratulations, you earned yourself another two weeks' bedrest."

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Hiccup's heartbeat was frantic in his ears. If he was discovered now, it would all be worth nothing. He pressed a hand over his mouth to try and quiet his breathing. It still felt like his heart would give him away.

He peered out of the crack in the wood that covered his hiding place. He hadn't had much time to scramble for cover when he'd heard his pursuer approach. This tiny closet would have to do...

He heard the sounds of someone searching the room. Closing his eyes, he prayed they would give up, move on, decide he must be somewhere else.

Somewhere in the room, ceramic shattered.

Hiccup shoved the door open indignantly to see the twins standing over a broken jar of ink, which was now staining his floorboards.

"Ha!" Tuffnut cried, running forward to slap Hiccup's arm. "Got ya!"

"Tuff, it doesn't count if I stop hiding because you're breaking my stuff!" Hiccup snapped.

"Sorry, H," Ruffnut said. "You know how clumsy he is, but he's also right: you're it!"

Hiccup sighed but couldn't help the grin that got past his irritated expression. "Fine. Let's go tell the others it's my turn to count."

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Hiccup couldn't keep a groan from escaping between his clenched teeth. Dagur grinned at him, one hand still clenched on Hiccup's collar.

"Isn't this fun?" he asked, giving his playmate a shake. Hiccup groaned again and tried to curl up, but Dagur dragged him back towards the creek. "Come on, I have another game!"

"No," Hiccup managed, trying to get his feet under him. It had been a very long day of keeping Dagur "entertained" while their fathers met in the Great Hall. They'd been all over Berk, chasing livestock, stealing things that Hiccup knew he would be blamed for, and trying to set a fire. Hiccup had put his foot down on that one; Dagur hadn't liked that but reluctantly scuffed out the tiny fire he'd made.

"Don't be like that," Dagur said. "Here's the game!" They'd reached the creek. "I dunk you in the water, and if you say I'm the greatest Viking ever, I'll stop! Sound fun?"

Hiccup didn't get a chance to answer before his hair was grabbed and his head forced under the surface. It was a snowmelt stream, somehow feeling even colder than the snow it had been. He thrashed and tried to throw Dagur off, but the other boy was much stronger.

Before he'd completely run out of air, he was wrenched upwards. Hacking and spluttering, he tried to scramble back, but Dagur had moved to stand behind him and block him from escaping.

"Who's the greatest Viking ever?" he asked in a cheerful sing-song voice. Hiccup couldn't answer, merely coughing up water and trying not to cry. "Wrong answer!" Dagur yelled, and forced Hiccup back down.

This time, he hadn't managed to catch a breath before he was underwater again. His throat and lungs burned as he choked on the icy water, and when Dagur hauled him back up, he felt the tears making hot tracks down his cold face.

"Who's the greatest Viking ever?" Dagur asked, his face close to Hiccup's. Hiccup, desperate not to be ducked again, pointed at Dagur. "Use your words!" Dagur cried, and shoved Hiccup's head towards the creek again.

"Wait!" Hiccup sobbed. "Please. It's you, D-Dagur, you're the---" he stopped and coughed; he was shaking. "You're the greatest V-Viking ever."

Dagur grinned broadly and dropped Hiccup, who curled up on the creek-bank and whined softly as he tried to get his breath back. "Why, thanks Hiccup! I knew it already, but it's so nice to hear you say it!" He gave his maniacal laugh and strolled back towards town, leaving Hiccup shivering and coughing on the ground.

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"It won't get better if you pick at it," Hiccup warned her.

Astrid shrugged. "It's just a blister. My ma said that if you pop 'em they heal faster."

Hiccup winced. "Eurgh. I can promise you, as someone who's had a lot of burns, it does not work like that. Please don't."

"Burn blisters are different." Astrid readied the pin she'd borrowed. "You watch, I'll have a callous here in a week."

"Astrid, pl--" but Hiccup couldn't finish begging before she ruptured the blister on her hand. She hissed in pain, but grinned at him.

"You were saying?"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, it's your hand. Here." He passed her some bandages for her now-bleeding palm. "I guess we'll see how fast it heals now."

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"Please: before we part ways to prepare for the auction, come have a drink with me." Viggo gestured to his tent, his smile as inviting as a Changewing's.

Snotlout didn't need the knee to his back from Gobber to know that this was not a good idea.

"Oho," he chuckled, trying to save face. "Oh, I couldn't possibly, dear man--"

"Are you saying my brother isn't worthy of your time, Sir Whatever-You-Called-Yourself?" Ryker growled, stepping forward. Viggo raised an eyebrow.

"Dear me, no! I- I didn't mean that at all. Come, valet, accompany me for drinkies with this gentleman!" Snotlout had no choice but to sweep off to Viggo's tent, focusing on the flounce in his walk to avoid panicking.

Inside, Viggo ushered Snotlout to his seat and poured them both flagons of wine. Gobber planted himself in the corner, hook and hand locked firmly onto the gold chest.

"A toast to the Grimborn Operation and Sir Ulgerthorpe!" Viggo said, and drank his wine. Snotlout did too and winced at its strength. He didn't often drink wine and he didn't usually like it when he did.

"Tell me about your most exciting dragons," he said, setting the flagon down and propping his face on his hands, elbows on Viggo's desk.

"We have some Typhoomerangs, a few Timberjacks, a very dangerous Changewing, and a rare Hobblegrunt," Viggo said, leaning back and smiling at Snotlout. "A truly fascinating assemblage."

The wine must have been stronger than Snotlout realized... he tried to blink and found his eyes blurring. He opened his mouth to ask another question but it felt like his tongue was suddenly made of wool. Through a gentle ringing in his ears, he heard Gobber exclaim with alarm.

"Hey, Sn- Sir Ulgerthorpe, what's happening?"

"Do tell me who you really are," Viggo said over Snotlout's head. "I'll spare his life if you're honest."

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If they were able to ask, Meatlug could have told them the recipe they were after to produce the strange shiny, light metal they were after. She was meticulous about her favorite foods, and what they had discovered had been tasty. Three parts limestone, two parts sandstone, one part iron ore, and some of her own generalized lava.

However, if she was being honest with herself, she really didn't want to undergo that whole ordeal again. Even a few days later, her throat ached, her lips stung from the burns, and her stomach muscles screamed even as she ate her normal fare. At least Fishlegs was being understanding about the whole thing.

The aftermath of the whole debacle had given him renewed confidence in his place among the other riders, and thus he wasn't too interested in testing various rocks and stones again. It was only pure luck that had kept any lasting damage from being done. Hiccup hadn't fallen to his death, Fishlegs hadn't been impaled by Outcast weapons, and Meatlug was mostly back to normal. Her burns would heal.

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He remembered the laughter, and the joy it had brought him then. It didn't bring him any joy now: just burning, squirming resentment and embarrassment that made him cringe to even think about.

He'd had fun talking with his father's friends, acting as much like them as he could, wearing a too-big helmet and struggling to lift an axe. They'd laughed, and he'd laughed with them, not seeing that he was their entertainment.

He was older, and the memory of that humiliation stung. His father still laughed over it, recalling how he'd staggered around under the the weight of the weapon, tried to drink ale and cried at the taste, and ultimately fell and skinned his knees when the helmet obscured his vision.

Snotlout pushed the burning thoughts away; it wasn't the time. This time, he was showing off to those friends of his father. They had better respect him as equals now that he had a massive fire-breathing beast by his side. Hookfang, ever attentive to Snotlout's moods, would have something to say if the laughter began again.

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Snotlout fell to his knees, panting. The cave was free of the Cavern Crasher, and the adrenaline keeping him upright had run out. Behind him, he heard the Fireworm Queen keening at her babies.

The other dragons were scouting the edge of the cave, keeping an eye on where the Crasher might have squirmed off to, but Hookfang didn't join.

Once he'd gently extricated himself from a pile of whimpering and squealing Fireworms, he put his head down beside Snotlout with uncharacteristic concern.

"I'm alright, Fangster," Snotlout wheezed, putting a hand on his dragon's nose. "Just gotta catch my breath." He smiled at Hookfang's plaintive whine of worry and patted him. "Oh, go on and kiss your girlfriend. I'm fine."

"Snotlout!" Hiccup and the others came over. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Snotlout grunted, accepting a hand up. "Just tired. Hooky, take your time." His dragon gave him one last sniffing once-over to make sure he was alright, then headed back to the Queen's side.

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The chain appeared out of nowhere. Hiccup tried to dodge, but to his horror the chain looped around his throat and pulled taut. His cry of shock was cut off as it constricted his windpipe; he felt himself be yanked backwards by the masked man on the other end of the chain.

Footsteps approached as Hiccup tried in vain to loosen the links around his neck. He could barely breathe. A shadow appeared over him: the man leaned down and growled, "Don't do that again." He reached out and jerked Hiccup into a sitting position and crouched in front of him.

The man wasn't careful as he removed the chain from Hiccup’s neck, but he did give him a moment's break before he wrapped the chain around his throat again.

Hiccup tried, hands still bound, to stop the man from throttling him with the chain, but it didn't seem like that was his goal. The masked man shoved Hiccup’s hands down, leveled a flaming glare at him, and wrapped the end of the chain around his neck. Then he grabbed a length of cord from his pouch and knotted two links together.

Hiccup was left wearing a rudimentary chain collar, and the man pulled the rest of the chain to force him to his feet.

"That's better," the man said, and even though Hiccup could only see his eyes, he knew there was a smirk beneath that mask.

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The blanket he'd been given was just barely large enough to tuck in around his legs and back. Its ragged wool wasn't perfect, but it was certainly better than nothing. They'd also tossed in a sandbag, which was serving as a pillow.

Hiccup tried to curl up tighter, preserve warmth in this cramped position. He knew his legs would be screaming in agony tomorrow. The muscles, subjected to tension all night in the cold, would make their displeasure known all throughout the next day.

It wasn't like it would be any warmer tomorrow, though. Wind knifed in through the slit that functioned as his window, erratically filling the room and finding any gap in the blanket. His attemps at a small fire had been blown out every time.

He glanced at the line of light coming under the door beside him. He remembered the door's other side, from when he'd been being dragged towards this cell two days ago. Not only did it lock with a key, but a heavy wood bar was braced in brackets across it. There would be no breaking out that way.

With a sigh, he resigned himself to another painful and restless night. Hopefully, Viggo would return from whatever expedition he was on and deal with Hiccup soon. It would probably be better than freezing to death slowly in this hole.

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He didn't want to. He was afraid, he was highly-strung, people were screaming and shouting and waving weapons, and the tiny human who'd tried to reach out and touch his nose was running.

The ancient instinct of chase took over and he charged. He ignored the yells of the humans outside the cage; they weren't attacking him at the moment. The tiny human was scrambling away from him, its thin voice screaming terror, and he couldn't stop himself from stamping a foot down to catch the creature in his claws.

Through a haze of ancestral instinct, he managed not to squish the human, his talons forming a cage around him. Somewhere in the distance, another dragon's familiar screech echoed to him. The dark one, the one this human had bonded with, that he could smell on the human even now.

It was coming.

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"No, NO!" He scrambled backwards, feeling the rough boards infest the heels of his hands with splinters. "I- I didn't--"

"Oh, I know you meant it," Spitelout snarled, advancing. "You think you can talk to me like that, boy?" He raised the empty flagon in his hand and Snotlout flinched, hard. He laughed and reached down to seize Snotlout by the collar. "You know what you deserve for talking back to me!"

The flagon crashed into Snotlout's face, breaking the skin above his eye and cracking. He yelled in pain as his father dropped him to the ground, then again as the boot hit his stomach.

By then, however, his mother had grabbed his father's arm and wrenched him outside. Snotlout heard her yelling at Spitelout furiously, and knew he didn't have much time. Wincing, groaning, he pulled himself to his hands and knees and crawled out the back door to the woodshed. He caught his breath and got to his feet.

He couldn't go to any of the other rider's houses. Astrid, fierce as she was in battle, was supremely uncomfortable in any situation where emotional delicacy was required. Fishlegs was too almost too understanding, and Snotlout wasn't in the mood to coddle his feelings. The twins knew plenty about stitching themselves and each other up, but their philosophy often involved rubbing some dirt in the wound for character. And Hiccup would clench his jaw so hard it threatened to shatter. Stoick would probably see too, and Snotlout hated that he was terrified of what his father would do if Stoick got involved.

No, there was only one place he knew he would find peace. He marched across the island, ignoring the chill of the night and nocturnal risks, and found himself in the dragon arena. Before he knew it, Hookfang's pen was open and he had curled up in the curve of his dragon's chest. Hookfang didn't wake, but unconsciously moved to shelter his rider with his wings.

In that warm, safe hideaway, Snotlout let the tears fall.

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The sky was bright beautiful blue, Ruffnut noticed. She always seemed to notice that in times like these; when she'd just been blasted off her feet by the latest explosion. Puffy white clouds were scudding along, accompanied by smoke. The acrid taste of burning hair was in her mouth.

Slowly, painfully, she sat up.

The aftermath was strewn quite impressively, she had to say. Rubble, charred wood, and various clods of dirt had been artfully arranged by the massive conflagration she and Tuffnut had set up.

Tuffnut... she glanced around and caught sight of his legs sticking out of a barrel. He'd gotten to cover before the fuse had burned completely, but she'd been too entranced by the sight of it all going up in smoke to bother ducking behind a handy wall.

She lay her head back down again and watched the smoke and clouds as motion and noise continued around her. Soon, a familiar face appeared over her.

"Hey," Tuffnut said. He sprawled on the ground beside her. "That was a good one."

"Uh huh," she replied. "How much trouble we in?"

He shrugged. "Prob'ly a lot." Soot streaked his face, and she knew if he'd gotten sooty, she must look positively burnt to a crisp.

"Help me up and let's see if we can scram before they get us," she said, and he grinned at her.

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The cliff pressed against his back was cold and unforgiving, just like the men who formed a rough half-circle in front of him. He felt his heart pounding hard. He'd been running before stumbling (with his good foot!) on a patch of uneven ground, and that had been all it took. Now he was surrounded, alone, on a hostile island, with no plan.

One man raised a crossbow to chest-height. "The Night Fury."

"I won't tell you," Hiccup said. He hoped his voice didn't show how terrified he really was, but he had a feeling that it did. The laughter he received was a sound hint.

"You might as well," another said. He seemed to be the leader of this group. "Viggo might go easy on you if you give it up to us."

"I'd rather be tortured, and you still wouldn't get it out of me," Hiccup snapped. The implication that he'd betray Toothless, defenseless and sick with dragon-root poisoning, was enraging.

The anger drove away the fear, and he pushed himself off the cliff-face to stand in the center of the group. He didn't have a weapon. He was as defenseless as Toothless was now, but he would give them as much of a fight as he possibly could.

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The hand on the small of his back was unnecessary, Hiccup felt. With his hands bound and crossbows every ten feet, that little bit of "encouragement" was overkill. He knew very well that escape was unlikely, and rescue was going to take some time.

That wasn't to say that he was defeated; far from it. His muscles were twanging with the anticipation of defending himself. Viggo, however, seemed quite at his ease, which only served to irritate Hiccup more.

Viggo shouldered open the door that led to the interior of his flagship. "I assure you, my dear, your dragon will be kept safe."

"Forgive me for saying I find that hard to believe," Hiccup replied sarcastically. He and Toothless had been shot down, and the other riders sent away under the threat of Hiccup's life.

"Well, a rare specimen like that is certainly going to fetch a fair price!" Viggo said with his smirk. That comment made Hiccup's temper flare. He jerked away from Viggo and used his bound hands like a club, going for the man's stomach. However, Viggo was too quick.

As if he'd been expecting the outburst, he sidestepped Hiccup's swing, grabbed him by the strap across his chest and a handful of sleeve, and slammed him into the opposite wall. Hiccup's head hit the paneling and he choked back a shout of pain; he'd already hit his head when he'd been shot down.

"You do not seem to understand the position you are in," Viggo said, almost conversationally. He was pressed very close to Hiccup, using his own weight to keep him from struggling. "I am going to sell your dragon at auction. I can do that with you as well."

He smirked at the horror that rose in Hiccup's eyes at that. He let go of his sleeve and ghosted a hand over his face instead. Hiccup tried to turn his head, but Viggo grabbed his chin.

"This is only the very least of what could happen if you were bought at auction," he said, his voice low and dangerous in an entirely new way. "A young, handsome man like you, Hiccup? A fine commodity, to be sure." He placed a thumb on Hiccup's lips and pressed.

Hiccup was very tempted to bite down, but he felt paralyzed. Viggo's body was flush with his, and he could feel every breath the man took. Not knowing what else to do, he allowed the thumb to enter his mouth.

Viggo smiled, and this smirk was also different than he was used to. It had much more behind it, and none of that was good. "Good boy," Viggo said quietly. "A buyer pays highly for obedience." He angled the thumb down to force Hiccup's mouth open. "How well has that girl Astrid taught you to use your mouth?"

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Toothless's distant roars made Hiccup want to scream, but he couldn't. Viggo's ship was docked in the port of a tiny island he didn't recognize. Toothless was in a cage which was being dragged off the ship, and all Hiccup could do was watch from a porthole.

His armor had been taken. He'd been permitted to keep his leg, but if he kicked another guard with it, that would change. They'd replaced the ropes around his wrists with manacles and forced a gag into his mouth, tied too tightly at the back of his head.

Hiccup hadn't seen Viggo since the man had forced a thumb into his mouth and taunted him, but he was up on deck calling out orders now. The memory of the intrusion was burning and painful in his mind, and he tried to force it away to focus on the problem at hand: very shortly, he would be dragged up on deck and onto that little island where bidders waited to buy his dragon... and him.

The orders came, and the two men who'd restrained Hiccup brought him out onto the deck. Viggo was standing at the side of the ship, looking serene. He smiled when he saw Hiccup. "Ah, wonderful. Shall we go?" He took Hiccup's elbow from one of the men leading him and dismissed the other. "Your Night Fury is next on the block. I wish to watch the bidding."

Hiccup gave him as murderous a glare as he could muster over the gag and Viggo returned him a smile. They left the ship and arrived in what passed for a plaza; a stone circle with a wooden platform at its center. Toothless's cage had been rolled up a ramp onto it, and the crowds of men were exclaiming in wonder and shock at the Night Fury. Viggo handed Hiccup back to the guards who were following them and stood beside the cage.

"Gentlemen from near and far, let us get to the point. Here is a myth, made real! Possibly the only Night Fury alive, and it is here for you to win. Let us begin the bidding at ten thousand gold coins, or an equivalent in ingots. Anyone?"

The crowd immediately exploded into a bidding war. Hiccup could hardly keep track as the price ran higher and higher, and Viggo's smug look deepened with every bid. Toothless snarled and whined in the too-small cage.

One man, an unsightly gaunt creature with white hair, placed the winning bid of five hundred thousand gold pieces and went to make good on his bid with Viggo's clerk. Toothless, roaring now, was rolled off the platform and was quickly swallowed up in the crowd. Viggo gestured, and Hiccup, kicking and struggling, was dragged up to the block.

"Now this, gentlemen, is an offer almost as rare as the previous!" Viggo called.

The guards were still having troubled holding Hiccup, so Viggo drew a knife and held it to Hiccup's chest. He stilled, the fire blazing in his eyes. He had to get free, get to Toothless, and get out of here. Especially if what he thought was about to happen was about to happen.

"This boy is the one who tames dragons, makes them obey the will of man, and is a fearsome warrior!" Viggo smirked at Hiccup. "See how much fight he has in him." He ran a hand again over his prisoner's face and this time let Hiccup jerk back. "If you do not want him for his skill in battle and dragon-mastery, I have no doubt another use can be found for him!"

Laughter rose from the crowd. The panic was rising now; Viggo was going to sell him off for who knew what to who knew who, and every second that passed took Toothless farther from him.

His frantic thoughts were interrupted, however, as a man climbed onto the stage. He was tall and grey haired, but didn't seem old, and he leered at Hiccup. To Viggo, he said "Experienced, is he?"

"I have reason to believe that he is not, in fact, experienced at all," Viggo said, returning the leer. Lowering his voice, he said to the man, "Just today, I saw for myself. If he were not gagged, you would see that he has a perfect mouth for it."

The new man turned back to Hiccup and ran a hand down his chest. Hiccup pulled back against the guards, trying to growl defiance, but the gag was much too tight. The guards' grip was too strong for him to move much, so the man touched him again.

"Strong," he said to Viggo. "A good sign! My clients will appreciate it. Shall we say... five thousand?"

"Poor fare for such a boy," Viggo said dismissively. Hiccup's head was spinning at the comment about clients. He tried to stop his hands from shaking in their manacles.

Viggo turned back to the crowd and opened the bidding as the grey haired man took a last look at Hiccup, then climbed down. The bids weren't as fierce as they had been for Toothless, but they eventually reached fifty thousand.

This apparently wasn't high enough, however. Viggo shook his head. "I am sorry, gentlemen, but I have not heard a price that entices me. Good day to you all!" The guards turned around and before Hiccup knew it, they were approaching the ship again. Viggo walked behind them.

Once on the ship, Hiccup tried again to break free. Toothless was still on the island! The guards forced him to his knees, still fighting. No no no NO! Hiccup wanted to shout, but the gag--

was cut free. Hiccup gasped at the use of his mouth again and growled as Viggo came around to stand, then crouch, in front of him. "Of course," Viggo said, folding the gag and pocketing it. "You cannot really believe I would sell you, dear Hiccup." He reached out and took Hiccup's chin again. "I confess that I want to keep you to myself."

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The Nadder was a proud dragon. It was as if their crown of spines was a real crown, and they certainly acted like it. Spitelout had taken an instant liking to this attitude, and one Nadder in particular.

"That one," he said to Snotlout. "I'll call 'im Kingstail."

Snotlout squinted at the Nadder preening at the top of the tree across town. It looked mean, but he was biased towards Nightmares, if he was honest.

"Sure, Dad," he said, shrugging. "Go for it."

"You're supposed to help me, dragon-master," Spitelout said sarcastically. "Or am I going to have to ask Stoick's boy?"

Snotlout didn't rise to the bait. "I don't know much about Nadders; do you want me to get Astrid? You know, a Hofferson?"

The comment worked; Spitelout growled to himself and marched off to tame his Nadder. Snotlout smiled. It was going to be fun to watch his father running around after a dragon!

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The little whip in Mala's hand made Dagur's heart race. Her face gave nothing away, but he knew she would stop if he asked. The thing was, though... he probably wouldn't ask her to stop. He knew she liked this just as much as him, liked his grunts and groans of pain and pleasure.

The whip had been made specially for them as a wedding gift, from Throk of all people. He knew Mala better than anyone else on their island, and for a while Dagur had been on his guard in case of competition, but it was soon clear that he wasn't going to get in the way of his Queen's happiness.

He'd been whipped in prison for fighting, defiance, escape attempts. But now, feeling strokes that rivaled those he'd previously received at the hands of his wife... well, it excited his body and mind in a way he didn't understand.

For Mala's part, when he asked her carefully, she smiled in that wolfish way of hers. Together they pushed to the very edge of pleasure, into pain, and through pain back into pleasure. She ruled the island by day and her husband by night.

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The knife was digging into Hiccup's back, barely inches from his vital organs. He was trying not to move, because each shift made the tip of the blade dig in a little more, and he was certain he was already bleeding. Johann didn't seem to care that he was hurting Hiccup; indeed that was probably the point.

"All the lenses you have," the traitor snarled over Hiccup's shoulder. "I warn you, with one jab I end your pathetic leader's life, unless you get me what I want. Understand?!"

Astrid nodded, her eyes like chips of ice. She glanced at Hiccup, who nodded as minimally as he could. Johann noticed and increased the pressure of the blade, his other hand tightening on Hiccup's armor-strap.

"Don't move," he growled. "I would be more than happy to kill you, Haddock."

"You wouldn't," Hiccup said. He wasn't totally sure. "You need me alive."

Johann laughed nastily. "Ah, yes; alive. There are a lot of ways to be alive in my care, boy. How about with your other leg cut off?" He chuckled as he felt Hiccup tense. "Sore spot, eh? You'd better hope your little friends come back quickly then." Together, they watched Astrid, riding Toothless, soar up and out of sight. "They'll still be some time, so we might as well be comfortable."

He dragged Hiccup over to the cluster of his men and gave his hostage a rough shove. Hiccup staggered and landed on his hands and knees, but the men grabbed him before he could stand. They pulled him upright while Johann brought a chair and a coil of rope to them.

"I do not trust other men's knots," he growled as the hunters forced Hiccup to sit. "No, no: the only hand I trust is my own." He motioned for the men to force Hiccup's hands behind the chair and tied them in place before wrapping more of the rope around his torso.

"I suppose you'll just let me waltz back over to Astrid when she gets back?" Hiccup asked. His mind was racing; Johann was dangerously unpredictable. He might just kill Hiccup before Astrid got back for the fun of it.

"I'll take and verify the lenses first," Johann said, finishing his knots and coming around to face Hiccup. "If even one is false, it'll be your head." He produced one of his many daggers and used it to raise Hiccup's chin so their eyes met. Hiccup glared defiance and Johann laughed. "Ah, I can almost see what Grimborn saw in you, boy. Too bad I'd prefer you dead."

Chapter Text

The hammer-blow right above his head made Hiccup jump, his eyes flying open. He wasn't pleased with what he saw; it was the same thing he'd been seeing for two days now.

Ryker was smiling at him, setting the hammer down on the bench beside them. "Feeling sleepy, boy?"

"Not a bit," Hiccup muttered. He'd been kept awake constantly since they'd dragged him onboard. It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open, and the goads and shocks to wake him were getting more frequent. His eyes slid closed again...

A stinging slap across his cheek. He cried out in pain and wrestled his eyes open to glare at Ryker.

"Tell us where the Dragon Eye is," Ryker snarled. "Then you can have a nice little nap!"

"I won't," Hiccup said, even as his head sagged.

Ryker grunted in irritation and handed the hammer to a subordinate hunter. "Keep him awake," he growled. "No sleep."

The door slammed and Hiccup tried to blink away the exhaustion. Unfortunately, one blink turned into a brief respite, from which he was wrenched by a hammer-blow to the knee. He yelled in pain and strained against the post they had him tied to, but the hunter merely laughed.

Outside the ship, Hiccup heard... could it be? A Night Fury's distinctive whistling call? He tried to straighten up as hope flared. Toothless and the others! The call sounded close; it flew right by the porthole of the cell. Hiccup tried to crane his neck to see, but the hunter twisted him back.

"What's your problem?" the man growled, confused.

Wait... had Hiccup even heard Toothless? He concentrated, and the Night Fury call turned into a seagull's screech. When he looked back towards the hunter, angry and confused himself, he yelped.

Instead of a hunter, Dagur sat there, hammer raised and his evil grin stretched across his face.

"No! Don't!"

Hiccup cringed away from his "brother," who frowned and said in the hunter's voice, "You stay still!"

The lack of sleep, Hiccup thought desperately. Hallucinating, hallucinating... he shouted in pain again as the hunter dealt him a tap on the side of the head.

Chapter Text

His voice had gone hoarse by the time the sun set. It was a little hard to tell, since the window was facing north and barely the width of his hand. It was a grim cell, but at least it wasn't underground. For a change, it was up on an upper floor of a sentry tower on Viggo's island.

He'd been snatched on watch duty from the Edge. He'd tried to fight, tried to rally Hookfang from the dragonroot arrow they'd used, but it hadn't worked. Hookfang was too weak to give a distress signal and could only wail as the kidnappers rowed as fast as they could towards the concealed ship.

They'd put him in the brig, ignoring his anger and attempts to fight. It wasn't Ryker's ship; the captain wasn't familiar or very interested in his captive. Snotlout did his best to try and get the attention of a guard.

"Heyyyyyyy!" he shouted, pressing his face against the bars. "Hey! Ugly!" He couldn't see any hunters, but it was a good bet. Sure enough, a man stumped around the corner to glare at him.

"What do you want, pipsqueak?" he growled. "Your screamin's irritatin'."

"Pipsqueak?! Oh, I KNOW you didn't just say that! Get over here and say that to my face, idiot!" Snotlout reached through the bars to try and grapple the guard.

The guard marched forward, unsheathed his sword, and smacked Snotlout on the head. All went dark.

When he woke, he was in the cell. There was an unfamiliar man there, a man armed with an array of inventive tools that Snotlout intuitively recognized as torture implements.

Now, as the sun was setting, Snotlout had cuts stretching from collarbone to belt, cross-hatched the whole way. He'd tried to stay quiet at first, but the torturer startled the first yelp out of him.

After that, he'd screamed. The torturer had laughed. He'd screamed as the blood ran off his torso and stained his breeches, as the blood dried and itched, as the man broke one of his finger, screamed the whole time. The torturer hadn't asked him even one question; he had seemed to enjoy it.

Outside the tower, Snotlout heard an explosion and the telltale screech of a Night Fury. He raised his head and managed to scream out the window one last time.

Chapter Text

It probably wouldn't hurt, he reasoned. Just one, to try and dispel the gnawing ache of emotions in his gut. So when he poured his father's ale, he poured one for himself and stashed it behind the barrel.

Then he sat and forced his laughter as his father made his way through all of Berk's population with an insult or joke at each one's expense. He had to white-knuckle his fork under the table as Spitelout got to the riders and their families, and grit his teeth through the entire topic of the Haddocks.

Eventually, though, it was over and Spitelout dozed off by the fire. Snotlout went and retrieved the ale he'd hidden and drank it. It wasn't as good as what he was allowed at Snoggletog and his birthdays, but it was strong and that was what he was after. It enabled him to forget, for an hour or so, the dreadful things his father spouted.

It had been very easy to slip into the habit of pouring himself one every time he fetched his father an ale. Soon, it was every night. It was a week before Spitelout shrugged and said "Pour one yerself, boy!" and Snotlout had merely fetched the one he'd already poured. The alcohol made his tongue loose, though, and it wasn't long before he gave it up rather than risk another fight with his father.

Chapter Text

He cast a wary eye to the storm-clouds above the other riders. It hadn't hurt too much last time, probably because he was too loopy to feel anything at all. He just remembered the light, the jolt, and the feeling that all of the ropes holding his body together were being pulled taut.

Gothi had looked him over and proclaimed that some god or another must have something in store for him, because he should have died. That hadn't been nice to hear. Still, at least that meant he got to keep living.

He couldn't help but wonder, though; would another time be pushing it? Wouldn't it just be smarter to fly around the storm? Of course, he couldn't say that to the riders. He was tough, brave, a Jorgenson, and not afraid of a tiny zap from any old stupid lightning bolt. Praise be to Thor, though, he thought quickly. Blessed be your bolts. It didn't pay to be flippant, after all!

Chapter Text

"Wait wait wait! W-we don't need to go that far, do we?" Meatlug whiffled in concern at her rider's hair. Fishlegs was lying on the forest floor, clutching his leg and staring wildly at Hiccup and Astrid who knelt before him.

"Fishlegs, we've got no choice," Hiccup said helplessly. "You'll bleed out before we get back to the Edge, and Astrid is frighteningly good at stitches."

"Only on people," Astrid added, carefully holding the wickedly curved needle over a small fire Stormfly had made.

"I just mean," Fishlegs gabbled, more blood draining from his face and out through the gaping slash in his calf, "I mean, stitches seem a little drastic!"

"I'll hold your hand," Hiccup said, moving to sit beside Fishlegs. "It'll be okay, Fishlegs. Astrid's done this on herself more times than I care to think about, and she hardly leaves a mark."

Fishlegs took a deep breath and wrapped his fingers around Hiccup's hand. "Okay. And I'm sorry for getting blood on you."

Astrid shook her head. "We're all covered in it, Fishlegs."

"It's still nice to be polite."

Chapter Text

Snotlout had never doubted his father's word. Dragons were a scourge. Stoick had his head screwed on the wrong way. The village was falling apart. No one ever respected the Jorgensons. The only way to make friends was to yell at them. Never show weakness around other people, yourself included. That little twerp Hiccup deserved to be kicked around a bit, if only to prepare him for what life had in store for a disappointing son. Boys don't cry.

In his home, Spitelout was the chief. Syldé, Snotlout's mother and the chief's sister in law, did her best to keep her family happy while navigating the politics of the village, and as Snotlout grew older he could connect that an offhand comment about the Jorgensons from the chief that met with laughter from the village meant a stressful dinner.

Over the years, fewer and fewer of Spitelout's pronouncements rang true to Snotlout. But, even as some fell away, others strengthened. The dragon attacks seemed never-ending sometimes, and after a particularly nasty one, Snotlout took up his axe in the righteous struggle to triumph over the beasts.

Then... Hiccup took his hand and placed it gently on the snout of the biggest Monstrous Nightmare Snotlout had ever seen. The monster blinked slowly up into Snotlout's eyes.

Maybe... dragons weren't so bad after all.

Chapter Text

He wiped his damp hair out of his face and sat down stiffly, ignoring the twinge in his muscles and trying not to break down. Around him, his books and drawings littered the floor. His charcoal was scattered, his ink-jar was shattered. Toothless made a soft cooing from the loft, but Hiccup ignored him.

The rage he'd felt so strongly a few minutes ago wasn't cooling, but it was congealing. He wanted to keep going, throwing his possessions, shouting his frustration and anger out, but his body didn't want any part.

His leg ached. He'd twisted it in the stirrup when they tried a tight turn, trying to double back and save those dragons... he bit back another curse. He didn't even know how many they'd missed, but he'd been forced to order a retreat.

Meatlug had been shot, and the arrows didn't need dragonroot to hurt. Barf and Belch, however, were susceptible to the poison and went down. Hookfang managed to catch them, but had to flee. Stormfly was caught in a net, and Toothless had only barely managed to get her out before she and Astrid were pulled aboard the ship.

The mission had been an utter failure. He'd been an utter failure. The hunters had cheered as the riders fled back the way they'd come. Once back at the Edge, Hiccup left the others behind and shut himself in his hut. And now he had the aftermath of this to clean up.

Embarrassment added to the emotions making his stomach roil. They'd surely heard him having a tantrum, and even if they hadn't, he'd have his red and puffy eyes to explain. He angrily swiped the tears off his face. Gods, what a mess.

Chapter Text

Fishlegs had certainly proven himself to be strong in his own gentle way. He could recover immediately when Meatlug flopped onto him, he could heft small boulders for her, and he was the one to carry any injured rider, and not just because of his healing skills.

That meant that the muscle he possessed was well-toned, if padded, and could be used for a great many things. Unfortunately, it was currently being used by someone other than Fishlegs to twist Snotlout's arms very hard behind his back.

The others, Hiccup and Astrid, were gaping at him as if he'd grown his own wings. The plan had gone terribly, confusingly wrong. Snotlout had done the trick to banish Thor Bonecrusher, but for some reason it hadn't worked this time.

Thor laughed, and it was a frightening sensation to see and hear their friend act so malicious. "Ha! You fools, I cannot be banished like some mere spirit! You're going to have to try a lot harder to get that weakling Fishlegs back!" He jerked Snotlout away from Hookfang, who was roaring in fury. "Keep back, dragon! Your master's life depends on it!"

"Fishlegs!" Hiccup called, bafflement and concern in his voice. "What's happening? Snotlout, you said--"

"Silence!" Thor shouted. "I will take this runt, and you will hear from us about my new demands, Haddock!"

Hiccup clenched his fists. "...Fine. Snotlout, try and stay calm, we'll come for you!"

"Good luck with that," Thor sneered.

Chapter Text

It wasn't the first time he'd parroted one of his father's sayings, but it was the first time he'd gotten a black eye for it. In the stinging aftermath of Astrid's blow, he could only whimper on the ground.

"Take it back," she snarled above him, axe ready for another bludgeon with the haft. "Take it back right now, bastard." The others were watching in fascinated horror: Hiccup was hanging back, biting his lip nervously, Fishlegs was keeping his distance as well, and the twins looked ready to egg Astrid on.

Defensiveness flared in Snotlout; why should he apologize? "No," he said, trying to push himself back up. Immediately, he was flat on the ground again with a foot in his back.

"I'm going to pretend you said yes," she growled, a few inches from his ear. "That way, the others won't have to scrape you off this floor and give you back to your parents in a bottle!"

"Get her off me!" Snotlout shouted to the others, writhing frantically.

Hiccup shook his head. "I kinda think this one's on you, Snotlout."

"This is cruel and unusual punishment!"

"I think she's pretty within her rights..." FIshlegs said. "I mean, if I'd said that, I wouldn't be surprised about this."

Astrid's foot ground into Snotlout's back. "I'm going to make you regret it," she told him. "And if you EVER say anything like that about any other girl on Berk, you'd better believe you're going to get a lot worse than what I'm about to do!"

Chapter Text

Ryker didn't usually fight with a shield. It was a new shield. It had an inward curve like a crescent moon on the bottom edge. The inside of the curve was sharpened like a scythe.

Hiccup tried not to move, but he couldn't calm his frantic breathing. Ryker, still panting himself from the fight, pushed himself to his feet without moving the shield. The others were spread across the deck of the ship, still fighting with the hunters.

"OI, RIDERS!" Ryker bellowed. "Drop your weapons, now!"

Snotlout, who was nearest, turned and saw Hiccup lying on the deck with the shield around his neck. The ends of the crescent-curve were biting into the wood on both sides, and if Hiccup sat up, he'd be bleeding out before any of them could reach him.

"Stop!" Snotlout shouted to the others. "Guys, STOP!" The battle stuttered, then stopped as the other riders realized what had happened.

"That's right," Ryker sneered. "Drop the weapons."

"Do it," Hiccup spoke up, still pinned to the deck. "Please."

"Bind the rest of them," Ryker told his men. "Viggo will be delighted to have the full set."

Chapter Text

He couldn't dodge the dart, it hit him in the throat. The familiar toxin was very fast-acting, and almost immediately he felt his limbs turn leaden. The masked man was hard to read (especially with the way his vision was swimming), but Hiccup expected that he was grinning.

The deck rushed up to meet him and his eyelids slid shut. He was panicking, but no signals were reaching his body. The man tossed the blowpipe aside with a clatter. Arms wrapped around Hiccup's torso and hauled him up. It was nauseating to feel his limbs hang loosely. He wanted to fight, he wanted to jerk free from this strange man, but he was being hefted over a shoulder.

Last time this toxin had entered Hiccup's body, he'd been rendered comatose and Mala's people had dragged him and the riders to their town square. Now, however, unconsciousness didn't seem to be approaching. Was he just going to stay helpless like this, forced to listen and lay there as he heard himself being taken farther and farther from aid?

Apparently so. He wheezed as the man let him fall to the floor of a new vessel. Once again, his limbs flopped. The stranger grabbed Hiccup's wrists and wrapped coarse rope around them. Hiccup tried to sit up, but all he could manage was to crack one eye open. The man was steering this little ship away from Savage and Throk's boats, both men still unconscious from darts of their own. Hiccup closed his eyes again and prayed.

Chapter Text

It was clear as soon as they found him. The blood was oozing sluggishly but wasn't stopping. "We have to do it," Gobber said, shaking Stoick's arm. "Stoick, give him to me!"

The chief hesitated, then pressed a kiss to Hiccup's brow before passing him over. "Try to make it easy on him," he said.

Gobber nodded. He turned to Astrid, who'd been watching in horror. "Astrid, get my box of tools from the beach-head! Spitelout, get some wood that isn't too wet and bring it here! Kids, get these people back and give him some space!" He paused in barking orders to glance at Toothless. "Er, please don't eat me, dragon." Astrid turned and sprinted for the box Gobber needed. It wasn't heavy and she soon had it back to his side.

Hiccup was laid out on his father's cloak, still unconscious, but moaning in pain whenever he was shifted. His face was bloodless-pale and sweat beaded his skin. Astrid passed Gobber his box and winced at its contents: a saw attachment for his arm, bandages, and an old dull blade with scorch marks on its handle.

"This'll be fine," Gobber muttered, as much to himself as any of the others. "Not as bad as the time I had to do this to myself when that Zippleback got me. Not as bad at all." He wiped sweat from his own forehead. "Got that fire going, Spitelout?"

"Wait, we can use my Nadder," Astrid said. She hadn't thought what to name the dragon yet, but there was no time for it now. "She can heat up the blade." She tried not to think about what that blade would be used for.

"Or just breathe right on his leg," Gobber mused. "Hm. We'll see, lass. Now, someone get a belt or something ready..." Hiccup whimpered as Astrid took his shoulders in her hands to pin him down. "I'm sorry, lad."

Chapter Text

Raucous yelling and crashes from the tavern fights weren't helping the turmoil in his head. He'd been so, SO close this time. His own greed had cost him his men, his ships, his brother... and his eye.

The burns were still agony, even weeks later. The healer had told him he was lucky the eye didn't have to come out completely as he stared at its milky hue. He shook his head. He had to think of the next move. The next plan. The Dragon Eye wasn't lost, anyway. But how was he going to get it back?

Someone approached the table. The figure was familiar. "You're a hard man to find," Krogan said.

"What do you want?" Viggo asked brusquely. "There is nothing I can give you."

"I wouldn't say that, and neither would my... colleague," Krogan said, and stepped aside.

Viggo wasn't often completely shocked, but now his jaw dropped. "You?!"

"Me," Johann said, placing his hands on the table. "Yes, Grimborn. Now, I should like to tell you the whole story and give you an offer. You have valuable insight I want; your rivalry with one Hiccup Haddock... well, let's say that you and I have similar goals in mind." The trader stuck out a hand.

Viggo shook it.

Chapter Text

He'd gotten out of the habit of biting his nails shortly after becoming Gobber's apprentice both because his nails never seemed to be long enough anymore, and because his hands were crusted with Thor-knew-what kind of grease and dirt.

The new habit was fiddling with his bracers, tightening, repositioning, tugging the strap ends, just to keep his hands busy. Unfortunately, this tended to create a jingling that annoyed the others in stressful situations.

"Will you STOP that?!" Snotlout shouted after Hiccup un- and re-buckled his bracer for the tenth time in an hour. "Oh, my THOR!"

"Shut up," Astrid snapped at him.

"Make me!"

"Guys, please," Hiccup said. He forced his fingers to stop fiddling. "Anyone have any ideas?"

"I drew a map," Fishlegs said, holding up the paper they'd been given. "It's nowhere near the actual island, though! I used enough of the real map from the Dragon Eye to hopefully trick them... do you think it'll work?"

Hiccup smiled. "This is great, Fishlegs! I think it'll fool them."

"Shh!" Astrid said from the door. "Here they come."

The door to the brig opened and Hunters entered, a handful of ropes at the ready.

Chapter Text

Toothless tried to cough out the strange purple air that was surrounding him and Hiccup. It burned his throat, eyes, and mouth, like he'd tried to breathe smoke. On the other side of the bars, Snotlout was panicking.

"Plasma blast!" Hiccup directed. He was coughing too, one hand raised to protect his face. Toothless obeyed, the familiar heat in his throat combining with the strange smoke's effects. He whimpered and tried to cough again.

Hiccup was peering in horror at the glowing patch on the bars; the blast had done no damage. Snotlout was yelling something, but Toothless wasn't listening. He couldn't breathe right in this air. It felt like his lungs were too small, and he couldn't gasp enough air. His head was spinning.

"No, bud, stay with me!" He heard Hiccup's cry and felt hands on his face, trying to rouse him, but he couldn't manage it. His head was spinning, the world was going dark, all he could hear were his own ragged breaths and Hiccup coughing. In the last second before the darkness closed in, he heard Hiccup shout "GO!"

Chapter Text

Hiccup spun around as the portcullis fell. "No!" But he and Toothless were both too late to stop the grate from clanging against the stone, cutting them off from Snotlout and Hookfang. "Snotlout!"

"Oh, gods!" Snotlout cried. "Hang on, I'll get you out of there!" He wrestled with the portcullis's lever and managed to jerk it upwards. A click sounded, but the greenish metal bars didn't move.

A hissing unlike that of the panicked dragons started from behind Hiccup. He turned to see a purple gas billowing from a hidden spout. It immediately felt like he was breathing steam, and steam from something noxious at that. Hiccup coughed and dragged the collar of his tunic over his face. It was all he could do not to choke.

"What is this stuff?" Snotlout asked, coughing as it reached him.

"Time to go!" Hiccup gasped to Toothless. His dragon sent a plasma blast right into a convergence of four bars, and it should have punched a hole straight through ordinary steel. Too late, Hiccup remembered as he knelt down to examine it that it was dragon-proof metal.

Desperately, he seized some of the lower horizontal bars and tried to pull it upwards. His muscles screamed, something flared in pain, and behind him, Toothless was staggering. Hiccup yelled in frustration and started coughing in earnest.

Snotlout was panicking on the other side of the bars, Hookfang edging backwards as the gas spread and shrieking nervously at his master. "Oh gods, no!" he cried as Hiccup slumped against the bars, shoulders shaking with coughs. "Hiccup! Toothless!" Hiccup dimly felt hands grabbing at the bars, trying to wrench them up just as he had. One hand gripped his wrist briefly.

"Go," he croaked between coughs. "Get help!" Behind him, Toothless groaned weakly. Hiccup made one last effort. "Go!" He barely made it to Toothless's side before his strength failed him. Slumped against his dragon's side, darkness filled his mind.

It was a confusing and painful sleep. His dreams seemed so real; he was being dragged along, someone's hands under his arms and his head pounding, throat burning. Then the world swayed and the sky above him was paneled with wood. His wrists stung and he couldn't move his hands. Toothless was always somewhere beside him, unmoving and silent.

Things only got more confusing. The swaying stopped and someone hefted him over a shoulder. The world spun and he groaned. Someone nearby laughed, their voice warped and indistinct. "You got him, Leif?"

"Yeah," another voice grunted. "He still out?"

A hand gripped Hiccup's chin and fingers pried at an eye. Hiccup wanted to shove the person away, but couldn't manage much more than a feeble struggle. Someone chuckled.

"Almost. Still dopey, but I bet he can hear us." The hand retreated from Hiccup's eye and patted his cheek. "Ha. Fainting like a girl. That gas is something, eh?"

"Too bad it's so hard to make," the one carrying Hiccup said. "We'd have the lot of them in a cell if we knocked 'em all out next time they attack."

Muted and confused fear suffused Hiccup; his friends. Toothless. That gas... he coughed at the memory with a throat that felt thoroughly sanded. Would Toothless be all right?

"This is a fine start," the one still holding Hiccup's chin said. "Once Ryker's heard we've got him and the Night Fury, he'll be on his way." A dark chuckle. "And you know Viggo'll want a steep ransom."

Hiccup's mind slid away as the man holding him started to move. The darkness was closing in again, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it. Hiccup used his last seconds of conscious thought to wish that Toothless was by his side.

Chapter Text

Even though the cell was full of dragons, Hiccup wasn't worried. If he gave them space, they wouldn't take his presence as an intrusion. It wasn't like he could go anywhere else.

He tucked himself alongside Toothless and fought the urge to unbuckle the muzzle fastened too-tight over his friend's snout. While the guard didn't scare him, he worried that they might hurt Toothless or the wild dragons to make him fall into line.

It was the next morning. He hadn't slept well, between the angsty hisses and whines from his fellow prisoners, the cold stone under him, and his own anxiety about the next few days. Surely Snotlout would get the others and find wherever he was. That couldn't take too long; he wasn't starving so he hadn't been unconscious for more than a few hours.

Toothless moaned under his muzzle and pawed at it.

"I know, bud," Hiccup muttered. "I want to, but I don't want to make trouble for you."

As if summoned by his words, the lock rattled and the door banged open. The guard from before entered with a bucket of fish, nowhere near enough to feed all the dragons. Hiccup didn't relish the idea of cold raw fish either, but if someone was going to go hungry it wasn't going to be him.

"Sleep well?" The guard sneered. "Hope that beast of yours is well rested, boy; I've got Vikings from all corners of the earth to come and see it fight!" He stepped closer, a head taller than Hiccup and had a good fifty pounds on him. "And maybe I'd throw you in for some extra excitement, eh?"

Hiccup didn't look away and glared at the guard. "You wouldn't. Viggo wants me and my dragon alive, and I wouldn't think much for your chances if you harm even a scale on his head."

The guard tried to match Hiccup's glare, but Hiccup wasn't backing down. Finally, he grunted in annoyance and left, slamming the door behind him.

Hiccup sank down next to Toothless. He'd meant every word, but staring up into the eyes of a man who wanted him gruesomely dead was more than a little intimidating. "I'm okay, Toothless," he said in response to concerned cooing. "He doesn't scare me."

Chapter Text

He'd gone through with it, the madman. Hiccup had warned him that Viggo wanted the Night Fury and rider unharmed, but the man in charge of these barbaric dragon-fights had thrown Hiccup into the ring anyway.

Toothless was in the pen, his muffled screeching barely audible over the roars of the crowd. Across the pitted and scarred floor of the arena, the dragon crouched.

The man had called it a Triple Strike. Hiccup had never seen anything about it in the Book of Dragon, Bork's papers, or even the Dragon Eye. Mystery class? Strike class? He had no idea, and it didn't really matter. Fishlegs could classify it however he liked if Hiccup survived to tell him about it.

The three tails rattled menacingly. The dragon was examining him closely. It didn't seem to consider him a threat quite yet... but Hiccup knew that was likely to change at any moment. A volatile situation like this could make even the most sweet-tempered dragons vicious.

"Not gonna hurt you," he muttered, trying to appear small and non-threatening. He didn't meet the dragon's red eyes; that could easily be taken as a challenge. "Just wanna be friends, bud."

He didn't have any weapons. His armor felt very thin at the moment, and his head was still a little buzzy from whatever gas they'd used to drug him. He had hoped it would be out of his system by now, but no such luck.

"Eat 'im!" A Viking in the crowd yelled.

Hiccup assumed that was directed at the dragon, but yelled back "What, with no seasoning?" A few people laughed.

The dragon hissed and rattled its tails again. They reminded him of a scorpion, a foreign creature like a demonic spider that Johann had told him about. He suspected that the dragon's tails carried venom just like the scorpion. It would be nice to know what it would do to him if it got him.

He must have stepped wrong. Or breathed wrong. Or looked in exactly the wrong place for a fraction of a second. Something clicked in the dragon's head and it charged.

It was wickedly fast, and he barely managed two steps back before it was on him. One of the tails, clearly prehensile, shot out and crushed his arms to his sides. It was no use to struggle, especially as the dragon spread it wings and leapt up to hover, other tails at the ready.

The crowd was losing its collective mind. Someone chanted, then others picked it up. "Fin-ish him! Fin-ish him!"

The man who had shoved Hiccup into the ring laughed and called out to the crowd. "Some dragon-conqueror he is! What do you say, lads: has this beast earned its dinner?"

A collective "YES" rang out. Hiccup could do nothing but stare into the dragon's eyes. He was forcibly reminded of standing over Toothless, dagger in trembling hands, heart pounding...

He screamed in sudden pain as something pierced between his shoulder-blades. The dragon had stung him. This was it. Whatever his fate would be, it was sealed. Fire was spreading under his skin.

Chapter Text

Animals were supposed to do exactly what you told them to do, when you told them to do it. Spitelout thought children should too. Snotlout was applying this philosophy to training his new Monstrous Nightmare, and it was not going as expected.

"AAAHH!" As he ran off to dunk his bottom in the water trough for the third time today, Snotlout ran past Hiccup who had his head in his hands.

"Snotlout, you can't just yell at him and expect him to understand!" he said, coming up to stand next to the trough.

"Easy for you to say," Snotlout growled. "Your pants aren't charred! How else am I gonna get him to listen to me?!"

"It'll take time," Hiccup said with a shrug. "He really helped us when we were fighting the Red Death, but we have to learn how to exist on a daily basis, not in crisis."

The Nightmare snarled at them from across the arena, and Toothless gave him a snort in return.

"He probably doesn't like being in here," Hiccup mused. "He and Toothless fought, and then..." he winced at the memory of Vikings swarming in.

"Then let's fly outside!"Snotlout snapped, standing up. Water streamed off his singed pants, soaking his boots. "C'mon, big guy! You're gonna fly with me, and you're gonna get a name!"

"I'll come to help keep an eye on you," Hiccup said, but Snotlout raised a hand.

"No way! This is between me and that guy. I'll get obedience from him, even if all my pants get burned!"

Hiccup shrugged. "Your pants' funeral."

Chapter Text

Well, it wasn't as bad as it could have been, Astrid reflected. Hookfang wasn't giving her trouble like he gave Snotlout. If anything, he was performing even better than before. All right, it was weird to be riding a dragon at least twice the size of her own, and the bright red color was a startling difference, but otherwise, it was quite smooth.

She whooped as they made a wide turn, the tip of his wing skimming the water and throwing up spray. "C'mon, Hookfang," she said, gripping his horns. "Let's see what you can really do when Snotlout's not holding you back!" They shot back towards Berk.

There was a bonfire being assembled at a farm on the side of town, lots of greenery that had been cleared for the planting all heaped up and waiting for the spark. When the villagers saw Hookfang, they called and waved for them to start the fire.

"Shall we?" Astrid asked. They swooped in and Hookfang delivered a blast of fire to the compost. Astrid could feel the heat on her face and whooped again. The villagers looked to each other in confusion; wasn't this Snotlout's dragon? She laughed and spurred Hookfang to circle the village as the fire burned below.

Chapter Text

Snotlout had to grudgingly admit, Stormfly was pretty cool. She acted a lot like a bird, which was a big change from Hookfang's princely attitude, and was excited to get flying.

"Okay, girl," he said cautiously, situating himself in the saddle. "Let's try not to go too--" she shot upwards like an arrow. "--faaaaaast!!!!!!"

Even though he'd left his stomach behind, Snotlout realized that the flight was very smooth. Her wingbeats were strong and even, and sitting on her back meant that he didn't rise and fall quite so much as when he sat behind Hookfang's head. She swerved and he yelped, grabbing onto the spines of her head. This earned him a squawk of indignation.

"Sorry! Jeez." With another squawk, Stormfly sent a group of spikes hurtling towards a nearby tree. They hit so closely together that the tree cracked down the middle. "Wow!"

Stormfly peered over her shoulder at her temporary rider smugly. He grinned back. Up ahead, another tree waited. This time, the spines formed a straight line directly across it, puncturing with so much force that the now-perforated trunk snapped.

Snotlout whooped and patted Stormfly's back. "Nice shooting!"

Chapter Text

Even though it was barely bleeding, it ached like Hel. Snotlout groaned and gingerly touched the wound across his shoulder. He barely touched it, but had to bite back a yell of pain. A hunter's chain had smacked into him and crushed him against Hookfang's back in the skirmish a few hours ago.

Fishlegs was going from rider to rider and checking them over. It had been a near thing that they'd all gotten out and finished the misison. Hookfang had been chained, Barf and Belch ran out of gas, a huge boulder had clipped Meatlug, Windshear had accidentally flown into Stormfly, and Toothless had been hit with a dragonroot arrow.

Hiccup wasn't in the clubhouse for the medical once-over; he'd retreated to his hut to care for Toothless as the antidote did its work. He'd been limping though, so Snotlout knew Fishlegs would make a stop there. Now, however, the healer in question was corking his bottle of burn salve after applying some to Tuffnut's legs and turning to Snotlout.

"Tunic off," he said. "Let me see."

"Make me dinner first," Snotlout grumbled as he shrugged off his armor. "Oww..."

"You'll live," Fishlegs said as he carefully inspected the bleeding welts across Snotlout's back. "It didn't cut deep, but it's going to bruise a lot. Go lie in some snow, I think."

"Some doctor you are," Snotlout replied, but without fire. Fishlegs gave him a tired pat on the chest and moved on towards Astrid and her sprained shoulder.

Chapter Text

The fish smell really wasn't too bad, he thought. All things considered, anyway. Well, he couldn't really smell it at the moment. Due to the blood, probably. Yes, the blood in both nostrils was probably blocking the usual smell of cod oil from Ruffnut's hair. Her braids were by his face as he rested his head in her lap in this grimy hunter cell.

He'd tried to be smart, as usual, or at least funny. Unfortunately, this crop of hunters had no sense of humor. When Tuff had tried to crack a joke about the hunter who was binding his hands, the man had used an elbow to break his nose without a word. Ruffnut had cried out in anger, but Tuffnut fell back on his surest defense: humor.

"Dang, this guy sure isn't loving the Nutt," he said, eyes watering in pain as blood leaked down his face. "Don't worry, my man; we're gonna be the best of--hggnh!" This time, it was a knee straight to the stomach. He wheezed and felt something shift in his chest; thankfully no cracking but it hurt enough that he didn't care.

"Stop!" Ruffnut shouted, straining against the hunter holding her. "That's my brother, idiots!"

"If he don't stop being a little shit, he'll be dragon food," the man with blood on his elbow growled.

"You wouldn't." Ruff could be scary when she was furious. She got cold and quiet, when the rage pushed her past angry fire.

"His choice," the hunter grunted. He gave Tuffnut a kick, but not hard enough to bruise. Once they had finished restraining Ruffnut, the hunters left. Immediately, she scooted across the cell's floor and took her twin's head into her lap.

"Oh, Tuff," she muttered. It was difficult to brush hair out of his face with her hands bound but she tried anyway. "You're funny, bro, but please grow a bit of self-preservation."

Looking up at his sister through a haze of pain, Tuff grinned. "Sure... as soon as you grow a beard!"

Chapter Text

He'd been wrong before, he knew, but this was a new low. Everyone knew it was a myth. Everyone knew no dragon could turn a man into a beast. A myth for children and Tuffnut.

But...

Hiccup knew what had bitten him. The bite mark looked like a wolf's, but it had definitely been a dragon. On the night of the new moon, he'd ventured out into the woods, following a call of an injured Night Terror. It had led him into a copse of dead trees. When he'd reached under a log towards the creature, teeth sank into his forearm. He let out his own cry of pain, and the thing had leapt out from its hiding place. He'd gotten a good look at its strange body as it vanished into the forest.

He hadn't bothered anyone about the bite. Toothless had left worse wounds in play-fights, and anyway, it had been his fault to be so foolish. It had just been a strange dragon.

That didn't explain the nightmares he'd started having that night. Limbs the wrong shape, body the wrong size, teeth dull and useless. He woke from these in a confused panic which Toothless soothed, but they got worse as the moon waxed.

As the half-moon swelled, his shoulders itched all the time. His shoulder-blades, however, felt bruised and sensitive; he couldn't lie or lean on his back at all. When his teeth started to hurt, he attributed that to Astrid's cooking, which had featured a rock. He had all reasonable explanations, but they couldn't shield him from the truth.

Full moon's night. The transformation began as soon as moonlight touched his skin. The agony was immediate; his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped in a silent scream as bone and sinew rippled in ways they should not. A strangled yell made it through a mouth that burned, and Hiccup fell to his knees. His fingernails scored furrows along the wood's grain, furrows that deepened considerably as the changes took hold. Fire roared across his back as skin tore, and Hiccup cried out again.

Then the pain was gone. Panting, Hiccup raised his head. With a gasp, he gazed out over the Edge; dark night had become daylight. Not only that, but he could count the leaves on a tree across the bay. He gasped again, the inhalation coming between his teeth... no. Fangs. A forked tongue (his?) ran across them in shock. He tried to stand and staggered; his center of balance had shifted completely. He looked down at his hands. With night eyes, he could see talons gazing back at him. They could have been dark green, but the night was monotone. He wavered again, and something swung out behind him to steady him.

A tail. Fangs, talons, night eyes. That had to mean... they must be there...

Hiccup spread his wings.

Chapter Text

The gods certainly had a sense of humor, if Hiccup was any judge. Whatever magic had taken his body and given him this new form could NOT have come at a worse time.

For days now, he'd been worried about a direct attack. Hunters knew where Dragon's Edge was. They'd attacked before, and would again. Scouting ships had been seen and sunk over the past few weeks, only solidifying Hiccup's certainty that an attack was approaching.

Did it really have to be tonight?

The Thunder Ear blared across the Edge's bay as whoever was on watch duty spotted ships outside the harbor. Dragons roared, the riders shouted, torches flared, and Hiccup was paralyzed.

His body had been transformed utterly; the tall tales of the Lycanwing turning out to be incredible fact. Fangs filled his mouth, spines ran down his back and along a whippy tail, talons scored grooves in the floor of his hut, and wings... beautiful wings sprouted from his shoulders.

Astrid was outside. She was yelling for Hiccup. Toothless, who'd watched the transformation in horror, wailed to her. The door flew open and Astrid stopped dead. The noises of battle were beginning outside, but inside the hut, dead silence reigned.

"Hiccup..." Astrid managed after a moment. "The Lycanwing...? Can it really...?" She raised a hand, and Hiccup pressed his nose into her palm. The magic moment broke as a boulder projectile smashed into the Edge.

Hiccup snarled, trying to convey 'There's no time for this. We have to drive them off, now!' He pulled away from Astrid and nudged her towards Toothless. Stormfly could fly solo, and... so could Hiccup.

The night air, already full of smoke and screams, felt like pure water to Hiccup as he spread his wings on the edge of his platform. Astrid was close behind on Toothless. Momentary worry seized the part of Hiccup's brain that had two legs; if he leapt, would he fall? Not know how to fly? But instinct as strong as iron took over and he leapt.

He had never truly flown before tonight. He had been a passenger, a weight on his dragon's back, but now! Now, the sky was his. The earth was a distant memory. The stars called to him.

Arrows whistled past his head. Ah yes. An invasion. He peered through the smoke and his night-accustomed eyes immediately picked out the lead ship. Someone was shouting orders.

Hiccup was worried that he wouldn't know what to do, but instinct saved him again. Reddish fire rushed up his throat and out over the ships. Screams rose from below and bells rang to call for help from the other ships, but he didn't care. The heat in his chest was amazing, and he wanted every ship to burn.

He soared over the bay and set fire to more ships, hearing more desperate shrieks from the men below. His human mind recoiled at the sounds. Bearing down on the last ship was a mistake: they had a net shooter. It launched just as he passed over it.

Far above, Toothless screeched in panic at the sight of Hiccup crashing to the deck inside the net. A plasma blast shattered the launcher, then splintered the mast, a third taking out a group of hunters who'd been advancing with weapons. Astrid leapt off Toothless's back as they landed on the ship and started slashing at the net. Hiccup roared, trying to shake it free. The bells started again. A retreat? He couldn't tell through the chaos.

The net tore and Astrid jumped back on Toothless. "Quick, back to your hut!" she shouted. Hiccup looked around and realized that the moon was low in the sky...

He landed on the platform next to the other two and gasped in pain; his skin felt like it was tightening around him. His jaws ached as his fangs began to shrink.

"Come on," Astrid said, dragging him inside. Once the door had closed, Hiccup collapsed. His wings were agony, the spikes down his back were retreating into his spine, his talons were shrinking down to nails again. His tail thrashed until it was too small to. He wanted to scream.

Then it was over, and he was panting on the floor. Astrid was kneeling beside him, but he couldn't see her face in the darkness of the hut. He felt raw, exposed, like he'd been skinned and left to suffer. Very carefully, she moved forward and took his head into her lap. Hiccup realized dimly that his clothes and armor must have ripped away as he transformed, but he was too exhausted and confused to care.

He cried as Astrid brushed his hair from his face.

Chapter Text

He couldn't hide it from Astrid. Even if she hadn't seen him change, she could get any secrets out of him without trying. The others, however, didn't have to know.

It had gone well for three months. It never got any less painful, but with Astrid and Toothless, Hiccup made it through. And anyway, the reward was flying with wings of his own, and he would put up with a great deal of pain for that.

When the night of full moon approached, Hiccup sat Astrid down to talk.

"I want to hit a base this time," he said. "As a dragon."

"Hiccup, that's insanely dangerous!" Astrid said. "If they hit you with that dragonroot and you react badly to it, they'll be getting a dragon AND you! Can you imagine how much Viggo would love that?!"

"What if you fly me?" Hiccup said. "Then you can see things I missed and help keep me safe!"

Astrid hesitated, then sighed. "You're going to go, even if I don't," she said. It was a fact and an accusation.

"Probably." Hiccup took her hand. "Please, Astrid. It'll make such a difference."

"Fine. You need someone to get you out of trouble, I suppose." She shook her head. "But if it goes wrong, you aren't hearing the end of it."

It did go well. At first, anyway.

Astrid’s guidance helped Hiccup direct his fury at the hunters and their base, and he had so much more control for destruction. He and Toothless always functioned in harmony, but having his own fire made a world of difference.

On his back, Astrid was laughing in delight. Below him, hunters were in screaming disarray. He let off a triumphant roar and jet of red fire into the sky, hearing it echo back across the base. Then he heard something else.

"FIRE!"

Arrows like an upside down hailstorm flooded the sky. Hiccup screeched; pain was flaring in his left shoulder. Not just pain. Blaring, blinding agony and sensation took over his senses. He could dimly hear Astrid screaming, barely feel wind making his wings flail uselessly, but none of it compared to the agony centered on the arrow in his flesh.

Gods, is this how it was for the dragons? Wave after wave of an overpowering assault on all senses?

The impact stole his breath and stopped the pathetic wailing he hadn't known was his. More pain exploded, but it merely added to the dragonroot's effects.

"Get back!" Astrid yelled from somewhere over him. Weapons rang, hunters cried out in pain, Astrid taking them down two at a time. He tried to open his eyes, but his vision was overtaken by bright colors and the harsh light of torches. He whined and hated the sound.

"Get her under control!" Someone bellowed from nearby. Ryker! Hiccup tried to stand, but his muscles wouldn't support him. He tried to shoot, but his throat constricted around the fire. Astrid was good. Very good. But even she couldn't fight forever.

A bola appeared and tore the axe from her hands, then another bore her to the ground while wrapping around her torso. "No!" She fought, but the ropes were woven with wire.

"Well, well!" An infuriatingly familiar voice was approaching them. Hiccup squinted up at a man in red and black armor and a smug grin. "Why, miss Hofferson! No Nadder tonight?"

"Get away!" Astrid snapped. She kicked, but Ryker stepped on her leg. Not enough force to break it, but she hissed in pain anyway.

"What dragon is it?" he asked his brother.

"It is a kind I have never seen before," Viggo said, utterly fascinated. He leaned toward Hiccup, who snarled and bit the air an inch from Viggo’s nose. "I want to study this. Bring it to the pens!"

"No!" Astrid cried again, twisting under Ryker’s foot. Hiccup growled and tried to stand again, but this time a different sensation overwhelmed him. He looked up frantically: the moon had set.

The horrible shrinking of his wings, his fangs, his skin! Panic overrode the dragonroot as he thrashed, voice changing even as he screamed.

"By the gods!" someone shouted. The hunters were clamoring, yelling in shock and panic. Hiccup's diminishing tail knocked a few back as he thrashed.

Hiccup cried out in a thoroughly human voice as the transformation ended. His skin, always so raw after the scales retreated, burned like fire in the night air. He was unclothed again, but he was so curled in on himself that this hardly mattered at the moment. It would matter very soon, but for now he couldn't care.

Silence fell, save for Astrid’s frantic attempts to reach where Hiccup lay. The hunters, Viggo, and Ryker were speechless.

At last, Ryker said "By Almighty Thor. The boy's a monster."

"That would explain why I didn't recognize the dragon," Viggo said. "No one has ever seen a Lycanwing and lived to tell the tale." He stepped forward and knelt next to Hiccup. "Oh, Hiccup. You have really done it this time, my boy."

Chapter Text

In the end, Ryker had to draw his sword to threaten Hiccup before Astrid would stop fighting long enough to be restrained and brought along. Viggo had ordered a cloak to be fetched and draped it over Hiccup's shaking body before scooping him up. Now, they were all marching towards the dragon pens.

"Explains why he's so in tune with the beasts," Ryker was saying. "He's one of 'em!"

"A fascinating phenomenon, to be sure," Viggo said. Over his shoulder, Hiccup groaned.

"Drop him in that one," Ryker said. He pointed at a cage in the center of the pens, raised off the ground and away from the others. "Keep him away from the other dragons."

"Put me in there with him!" Astrid shouted, twisting against her captors. "You have to!"

Viggo chuckled. "Well, my dear, I don't HAVE to do anything at all. But, since you insist, very well. Ryker, deposit the young lady in her cage, please."

Ryker snatched Astrid away from the other hunters and shoved her into the back of the cage. She fell, hard, and knocked her head against the bars. Viggo hefted Hiccup a little higher on his shoulder and smiled at Astrid.

"He'll be joining you shortly, dear. We'd like to have a chat first."

He walked away from Astrid's enraged shouts and towards his tent. Hiccup was coming around; stirring and groaning in pain. Viggo supposed he'd hit the ground quite hard, after all.

The tent was still warm and brightly lit. Viggo slid Hiccup off his shoulder and onto the pile of furs in the corner that was due to be sorted and distributed for winter gear. This elicited another grunt of pain. Grabbing a chair, Viggo sat beside Hiccup and waited for him to wake fully.

The torchlight of wherever he was hurt his eyes. He moaned, and someone shifted in front of him. Astrid? Memory surged; not Astrid. He blinked and Viggo's face swam into view, grinning. Hiccup clutched the blanket draped over him tightly and tried to glare back, but it was hard to do so when it felt like his ribs were crushed.

"You are quite the marvel, Hiccup," Viggo said. "A dragon and a man. Vikings have dreamed of things such as you for centuries, and here you are. How is this?"

"A stupid mistake," Hiccup muttered.

"And a happy accident for me," Viggo mused. "I expect it was a Lycanwing bite. But no matter. There are many things I can learn from you, Hiccup. Firstly, I need you to tell me truthfully. Do you transform only once a month, or does a full moon just barely starting to wane still trigger the dragon's blood?"

Hiccup opened his mouth to lie, then stopped. The others had no idea where he and Astrid were. Toothless and Stormfly were at the Edge. They would still be in Viggo's hands tomorrow night.

"Three nights," he said sourly.

Viggo smiled. "Perfect."

When Hiccup was a dragon once more, Astrid was dragged from the cage and put in another while Hiccup was examined. Ryker and Viggo were very interested in every aspect of this condition. They spent all evening poking, prodding, and discussing. Hiccup gave up fighting them from his cage; his ribs were still agony.

"See here, brother," Viggo said, grabbing the tip of Hiccup's wing. "Four legs, two wings on our friend now. But when the moon sets, two arms, two legs, no wings." Hiccup jerked free with a growl.

"I have an idea," Ryker said. "Break a wing at moonset. When he's human-shaped, we'll see what's broken."

Hiccup's heart leapt into his throat and he snarled; he didn't even know what would happen, and he wasn't interested in finding out!

"An excellent idea," Viggo said. "Here. It's almost time. This one: break it here."

Before Hiccup could wrench free, screech defiance, breathe red fire and turn the brothers to coals, Ryker reached through the bars and snapped the upper bone of Hiccup's right wing in his hands.

It was worse than the dragonroot. He wanted to scream out a torrent of fire, blast a hole in the roof, melt the bars of his cage, but the pain held him like a red-hot vise. His keening made Astrid cry out from her cage on the other side of the room. "Hiccup! NO!"

"Any moment now," Viggo said, looking out the door of the pens.

Agony on top of agony... the transformation began. Hiccup couldn't take it. It was too much.

He came to with a blanket being tossed over his body. If he had any thoughts to spare at all, he might have been furiously self-conscious that his enemies were seeing sights reserved for Astrid, but the pain was too much. He could barely look down at his arm...

His upper-arm bone was definitely broken. Blessedly (if anything in these circumstances could be), the bone was still inside the skin. If he'd seen blood, he would have known he was dead. Even so...

Tears were on his face and he wasn't sure when they had appeared. His arm throbbed and burned, and his ribs made him very aware that they were still battered and bruised.

"Fascinating." Viggo was smiling. "Bring the girl back here. I doubt Hiccup can be moved."

"Fuck all of you with a rusty spearhead," Astrid snarled. As Ryker dragged her forward, Hiccup could see tears on her face too. "Hel's too good for both of you!"

Viggo stepped up to her and took her chin in his hand. "I don't believe in Hel, dear. Sleep tight."

Chapter Text

Viggo couldn't believe it. He really couldn't. A Lycanwing, something his tribe had searched for, generation after generation, and Hiccup, something HE had searched for, both dropped straight into his lap. Oh, the girl was useful too, he conceded. If for nothing else than forcing Hiccup’s cooperation, but he was so compliant already.

He wasn't in much shape to fight anyway. Broken arm, damaged ribs, exhausted, and due for another transformation tonight. It seemed to take massive amounts of energy, which made sense. To completely shed one form and take another... well, it was a miracle he was awake and glaring at Viggo.

"How many months has it been?" Viggo asked, paying no mind to the silent animosity. Hiccup didn't answer.

"Come now," Viggo said. "I am merely asking questions. You fascinate me. We are both of a curious mind; surely you can understand my interest!"

"Let me out of here and we can talk," Hiccup said. His voice was quiet and hard. "Not like I can fight." He was cradling the broken arm to his chest.

Viggo considered, then nodded. "Very well."

"Can I have some clothes?" Hiccup asked. He was still clutching the blanket around himself from last night's transformation.

"You'll only tear them when you transform," Viggo said reproachfully. "We might as well wait until you are done. Tonight is the last transformation of this month?"

"Yes," Hiccup snapped. "Really? Nothing? Even a big shirt?"

"Oh, fine." There was a chest of spare clothes behind Viggo’s desk. He retrieved one of his spare linen shirts from it. It was cut long, past his own hips, so would be quite large on Hiccup. He grabbed the keys to the cage from his desk and advanced on Hiccup.

Hiccup shrunk back, his glare flickering with panic as Viggo knelt and unlocked the cage. The shirt hit him when Viggo tossed it and he flinched.

"Make yourself decent and come sit here," Viggo said, returning to sit behind his desk. "We can talk like civilized Vikings, as you happen to be one currently." That rankled, and Viggo smirked as Hiccup scowled.

It took the boy a minute to struggle into the shirt, injured as he was. In the end, he merely let his right arm stay inside without wrestling the sleeve. Carefully, wincing and stifling pained sounds, he crawled out of the cage and got to his feet. He was still clutching the blanket around his waist, and walked unsteadily over to the indicated chair and sat down gingerly.

"What do you want?" He asked, when he was settled. "After tonight I'll be human again."

"Human-shaped," Viggo corrected. It irritated Hiccup to be so pedantic, so of course Viggo took every opportunity.

"Whatever," Hiccup snapped. "I won't be a fascinating specimen for you to study."

"You have fascinated me, no matter what shape you can take," Viggo said. "As for tonight, I thought we might see some things about you and your anatomy."

"Like last night?" Hiccup asked. "You already broke my wi-- arm." He flushed red at the slip-up.

"How many months have you been transforming?" Viggo asked again, ignoring Hiccup’s question. "Are you used to it yet?"

"Three. Four including this one." Hiccup hunched over, wincing. "There's no getting used to it."

"It seems dragonroot affects you the same as another dragon," Viggo commented, remembering the strained wails he'd heard from his tent before rushing to see what on earth was all the noise. "I wonder if it would affect you now?"

"It makes humans sick," Hiccup said. "But not like dragons."

"I would like to see which part of you reacts to it in this form," Viggo said. He took a vial from his desk drawer. Hiccup went pale.

"W-wait," he said, raising his good hand. "Don't do this. It might kill me, I have no idea!"

"This is true," Viggo said. He looked at the virulent green liquid in the vial. "I won't use much. I doubt it will actually kill you."

"Is that a risk you're willing to take?" Hiccup asked.

"Yes, I believe it is." Viggo stood and walked around the desk. Hiccup tried to stand, but his ribs must have hurt terribly, sending him back into his chair with a panicked wheeze.

"Please," he managed, trying to sit up and clutching his abdomen.

Viggo poured a bit of the dragonroot extract onto the tip of his dagger. "Open your mouth, Hiccup."

Hiccup was grey with terror. Viggo was mildly surprised, Hiccup was usually so fearless, and here he was, nearly hyperventilating. The dagger was a few inches from his lips.

"I don't want to cut you," Viggo warned. "Open."

Hiccup hesitated, eyes darting from the blade to the wielder, then opened his mouth.

"Good boy," Viggo said. He chuckled at the fury that broke through Hiccup's panic. Carefully, he wiped the extract off on Hiccup's tongue and removed the blade. "Swallow it."

Hiccup grimaced; it was unbearably bitter as Viggo knew, but he obeyed anyway. Viggo wiped the blade off on Hiccup’s good shoulder and sheathed it.

"You're evil," Hiccup muttered as Viggo returned to his seat.

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Viggo said lightly. "How are you feeling?"

Hiccup shot him a look that said "how do you think?!" clear as day.

"The dragonroot, Hiccup," Viggo prompted. "Dragon or human reaction?"

After a moment's grudging thought, Hiccup answered, "Human. I feel sick." A drop of dragonroot extract had smeared on his chin.

"Interesting," Viggo murmured. He reached over the desk and wiped the green liquid away.

Chapter Text

The dragonroot didn't help Hiccup's already-ailing health. Even though it was only a little, he still felt horribly nauseous until it wore off. It left him feeling feverish with chills running along his back. Viggo had just sat there, impassively observing Hiccup's reaction to the poison.

When Hiccup was able to sit up and open his eyes without his stomach threatening revolt, Viggo stood.

"This evening, Hiccup, I have a new idea to work on with you," he said. As if he wasn't going to do it whether Hiccup liked it or not. As if this was a pleasant little research project they were conducting together. Not like he was subjecting Hiccup to varied and creative torture.

"Will this one kill me?" Hiccup asked.

Viggo chuckled. "No, I doubt that. You may certainly feel discomfort, but this is merely in pursuit of knowledge. I have a clever alchemist who came up with our dragonroot extract, and tonight I have another concoction to give you."

"And I bet it'll taste as good as the last one."

"You will not have to taste this one," Viggo said. "I have seen those fangs you grow; injured or not, I have no doubt you could take my arm off with them."

"That sounds like a good idea," Hiccup said. The fury he'd felt when setting fire to the ships flickered inside him. He may be battered, injured, sick, outnumbered, but if he could take Viggo down with him...

"And that is why Miss Hofferson will be administering our experiment tonight," Viggo said smoothly.

Astrid's hands were shaking. Hiccup knew it was from rage.

He was crouched in his cage, one wing held close and the other hanging oddly. He was growling, long and low. Viggo and Ryker were standing farther back and a few hunters with crossbows flanked them. Astrid's face was calm, but Hiccup could recognize that furiously helpless set to her jaw.

"Hey, Hiccup," she said in a quiet voice. "You feeling okay?" He flashed her a look out of angry golden eyes. She winced. "I know. I know it's bad. I don't want to do it." She held a needle in her hands. It was loaded with the evil-looking red liquid Viggo had been examining earlier. "They'll kill us both if I don't do this to you."

Hiccup bared his teeth. She was right, but the idea of Astrid being the one to inject Hiccup with whatever poison this was to be had been one of Viggo's nastiest ideas. They had no choice but to play along with his games. Hiccup knew this, but it didn't lessen the sting. He extended a foreleg and Astrid placed the tip of the needle on the skin between his scales.

"Ready?" she asked. He wasn't, but nodded. The needle pierced his skin and he hissed in pain. Astrid withdrew it as quickly as she dared. Turning to Viggo, she snapped "There! Now will one of you bastards bring me bandages and strong sticks so I can splint his arm when he changes back?"

"Go ahead," Viggo told an unsure hunter. "It won't be long now."

Certainly it wasn't long now... Hiccup's eyesight was drifting just like it had with the dragonroot, but with none of the latter's agony. The sting of the needle had faded, leaving behind a pervasive buzzing like that of bees. It made it very hard to coordinate his limbs; he yelped in pain as he staggered and tried to catch himself with the broken wing.

He had to admit, it was better than the poison, but only barely. He was adrift on a sea of buzzing, fog like the Smokebreath's now entering his vision... He shook his head to clear it but it felt like he was moving with half his normal speed. Astrid's voice was a long way off and her words were nothing more than gibberish.

The impact of hitting the cage floor sent a jolt of pain through him that managed to disrupt the overtaking nothingness briefly. Before long, however, he was away again. He wasn't sure what was happening or who was near, who was friendly and who was watching with sick fascination.

Pain, worse than the brief jolt, suddenly entered his body from every side. Ah. The moon had set. The transformation back to man had begun, and the pervasive fogginess wouldn't help him stay lucid through it. He muddled through the haze, pain radiating from everywhere, and finally found himself on the other side with cool hands running through his hair.

Astrid was in the cage with him. There were no hunters in sight, the moon had set, and a pile of clothes sat by the cage's door. His arm was splinted and in a sling across his chest. Hiccup blinked, tried to rasp a question, and coughed. Astrid passed him a waterskin.

"The drug made you freeze up," she told him. "It looked like you were watching something so far away, and you collapsed because you were unsteady. It was a while like that, then you transformed back. How much do you remember?"

Hiccup set aside the waterskin. "Not much," he whispered, voice still rough with misuse. His human throat did not appreciate prolonged growling. "Foggy. Numb."

"Viggo said that you could have clothes now that you can't transform and tear them up," she said, showing him the pile. "I'm sorry about your arm, I wish I could do more."

"You're doing more than enough," he told her weakly. "I'll feel better soon."

"They want to keep us til the next full moon," Astrid muttered. "I hope to Thor that the others realize something's wrong soon."

"I did leave a note," Hiccup remembered suddenly. "Not with the truth, but where we were going. Gods, I hope they see it."

Astrid smiled. "Let's hope, then. Get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

Chapter Text

"Get up."

Astrid looked up blearily; she'd just been woken up with the end of a spear prodding her leg. The hunter who'd poked her was glaring into the cage through the unlocked door.

In her lap, Hiccup groaned and shifted as much as he could without moving his injured arm. "Good morning to you, too."

"Up!" the hunter snapped. "Boss wants you moved. Get going!"

Astrid glared at him until he backed up. "What does Viggo want?"

"Can't say." The man smirked. "Not my problem."

Hiccup sat up slowly, wincing and hissing as his arm shifted. "If he's just planning to torture me more, no way."

"Don't have a choice," the hunter grunted. He flipped the spear around to point at the two of them.

Hiccup sighed angrily. "Fine. Back off, we're coming." The hunter retreated and Astrid helped Hiccup exit the cage. Walking was slow; both of them were sore from being caged.

Viggo's tent wasn't far, and the man himself was sitting behind his desk. He smiled widely at his two prisoners as they entered. "Ah, good to see you both. Slept well?"

"Fuck off," Astrid growled.

"Language, Miss Hofferson," Viggo said, shaking his head. "Please, sit."

They did, Hiccup wincing and Astrid clenching her fists til her knuckles were white.

"It occurs to me that since the moon is no longer full, there will be a time when no transformations take place," Viggo said. "As I wish to continue my research, I will be requiring you to stay with us until the moon waxes again. However, I am not unreasonable; guarded lodging will be put at your disposal. It's poor manners to keep humans in cages. Dragons are another story, but I see no obvious dragons here at the moment." He smiled.

"When you say 'until the moon waxes again,'" Hiccup began, trying to sit a little straighter and grimacing, "can we assume you don't mean you'll let us go as soon as the moon's full?"

"Very astute," Viggo said. "Yes, I will indeed be keeping you longer than that. Miss Hofferson is not strictly required, though I imagine she'll want to stay." He didn't flinch as Astrid shot to her feet and slammed her fists on the desk.

"You can try and separate us," she snarled, shaking off the hunter who'd run forward to subdue her. "See what happens, bastard!"

"Hiccup, your lady-friend is not as important to my research as you are. I suggest you keep that in mind, Miss Hofferson." Viggo straightened the papers Astrid had disturbed. "Ogmar, please lead these two to their accommodations. Hiccup, we will talk again soon. Rest and recover."

Astrid felt ready to lunge across the desk and snap the bastard's neck, but Hiccup squeezed her hand. She tamed the inner beast and followed the hunter out of the tent with Hiccup.

The hut was bare and ugly. There was a bed that could comfortably fit one and a dozen barrels shoved up against the walls, suggesting that the space was usually storage. Hiccup sat down stiffly on the bed and hissed in pain; his ribs were still sore.

The hunter slammed the door behind them and Astrid heard the bolts thunk into place. She glared at the door (which lacked a handle on this side) and turned to Hiccup. "How are you feeling?"

He grimaced again. "Bad. Whatever that stuff was yesterday, I think it's still affecting me."

"I'm sorry," Astrid said. She sat next to him and took his uninjured hand. "I had no choice."

"I know."

They lapsed into silence for the rest of the day. Food, meager and bland, was delivered to them. The hut had one narrow window carved into the door, and Astrid could see that they were being guarded on short shifts, one man at a time. Probably just to listen for disturbances.

Evening came. One of the barrels held candles, and there was a lantern with the glass broken out of it in a corner. Astrid managed to get it lit and sat next to Hiccup again.

"You going to be alrght tonight?" she asked. "Is it... hard, the first night of not transforming?"

"A bit," he replied. "I feel all tense waiting for it."

"It'll be okay." Astrid tried to be soothing, but the idea of being trapped in this hut for a month was terrifying.

Her depressed musings were interrupted as Hiccup gasped in pain. In the dim lanternlight, she saw him convulse, gripping the shabby bedsheet in his good hand.

"No!" he gritted out. "Not supposed to--!" He shook again, and to Astrid's horror, began to thrash in pain.

"Hiccup!" she cried. The guard outside had definitely heard the commotion. "What's happening?"

Hiccup yelled in pain as an answer. He writhed and cast a terrified look up to Astrid; his eyes glowed gold.

The transformation took hold as the door banged open behind them. Guards shouted in alarm, and Ryker yelled "By Thor! What's going on?!" The clothes Viggo had generously spared ripped as Hiccup's wings burst forth.

Hiccup howled in pain as his broken wing formed. This would probably have made it worse. Astrid, not waiting for an actual plan to form, sprinted forward and leapt onto Hiccup's back. v"Fire!" she shouted. Hiccup raised his head and blasted the retreating hunters with his red flames. Ryker had dodged and was sounding the alarm. "Even if we can't fly, you can run!" Astrid told Hiccup. "Let's get out of here!"

Smashing through the smoldering remains of the doorway, Hiccup began to charge towards the edge of the base. If they could get away, they could find somewhere to heal, then maybe escape---

Bolas whipped through the air and caught Hiccup around the legs. Astrid cursed as she was flung off. Hiccup wailed in pain and struggled, but between the reinforced ropes and his injuries, couldn't break free. The guards caught up with them, Viggo at the lead.

He knelt down beside Hiccup, avoiding his fangs. "Fascinating. It would appear that my experiments have altered the nature of your transformations, Hiccup. Indeed, they may be every night." He straightened up. "Take the girl, put her in a different storage shed. Bring the boy-- ah, the dragon, to the pens."

Chapter Text

"They're-- they're hurting--!" Hiccup felt like his chest was too small. No matter how big a breath it was, the fresh air wasn't reaching his lungs.

He was in a cell where the walls were too close, the ceiling too low, the window merely a slit in the stone. Hunters had just come and dragged Fishlegs and Ruffnut away as the others fought their bonds in protest.

Now, as Hiccup panicked and strained to free himself til his wrists ached, he could hear his friends' cries of agony. The hunters were torturing them! And Hiccup couldn't stop it.

A rough hand landed on his shoulder and pulled him back. Hiccup flinched, but realized that it was Tuffnut. His friend's expression was about as grim as he'd ever seen it.

"Hiccup," he said quietly. "Try and breathe with me." He took a deep breath in, raising his shoulders to exaggerate the motion. "In, then out." He exhaled, relaxing his muscles.

"How can you be so calm?!" Hiccup cried. "They have Ruff in there!" A scream (which, to be fair, could have been Fishlegs) punctuated his question.

"I know," Tuffnut replied. "But if you pass out, you won't be able to help me jump the hunters when they come back in." He showed Hiccup a knife that must have been hidden, maybe in his boot.

Hiccup gripped his friend's wrist, tried to block out the other sounds echoing in his head, and took a deep breath.

Chapter Text

As it turned out, Tuff had two knives, not just one. As Hiccup got his breathing under control and calmed down, they heard footsteps coming along the passage towars their cell. Ruff and Fishlegs had gone silent by now. Astrid and Snotlout were still unconscious.

"One shot at this," Hiccup muttered. "Please tell me you got this."

"No problem," Tuffnut said, flashing him a grin.

The door opened. Two hunters marched in and went directly to where Snotlout and Astrid had been deposited. Hiccup’s throat tightened, but he nodded at Tuff. The hunters had their backs to them.

"Now!"

Hiccup and Tuffnut leapt. The hunters, shocked and confused, stood no chance.

It was over in a few hot, bloody seconds.

Tuffnut wiped the blade of his knife on his vest and turned to Hiccup. "Let’s go!" Hiccup, looking nauseated, followed him down the corridor to the room from where screams had issued.

Chains hung from the ceiling along one wall. Six sets had been prepared, and two of them were occupied.

Ruffnut glanced up as they entered. "Oh hey, what took you so long?" She winced and sat up a little straighter. "Got any bandages?"

"Ruff, are you okay?" Hiccup cried. "And-- oh gods." Fishlegs was limp in his chains, blood staining the side of his face. Hiccup knelt down next to him. "He's alive. Tuff, get that axe and help me get them out of here!"

"Way ahead of ya," Tuffnut said, helping Ruffnut to her feet. "I'm gonna get her to the dragon pens, then come back for Snotlout. We can get Fishlegs together. You got Astrid?"

"Yeah, I think so," Hiccup said. He put his head in his hands for a moment, took a deep breath, then stood back up. "Okay. Let's get them out of here."

"And us, right?"

"Us too."

Chapter Text

Hiccup's training plans were sometimes pretty out-there, but this time Snotlout was going to complain. As if he did anything else when Hiccup was annoying him...

"C'mon, guys," Hiccup had pleaded. "It's important that ALL our dragons recognize each other rider as an ally, or we could have problems. I want everyone's dragons to watch everyone else's backs. Got it?"

Snotlout had gotten saddled with Meatlug, literally. Fishlegs had Hookfang, which was going to be hilarious, Ruffnut had Stormfly, Tuffnut had Toothless, and Astrid and Hiccup had Barf and Belch.

"This is dumb," Snotlout moaned from the back of the group. Of COURSE he got the slowest, most boring dragon...

"Snotlout, the sooner we get done with this exercise, the sooner you can have your dragon back!" Fishlegs snapped from above. "I'm not exactly having the time of my life either!" Hookfang growled.

"Go clear your quadrant and meet back at the arena!" Hiccup called, and flew off. Meatlug arrived at the assigned stretch of woods way slower than Hookfang would have, Snotlout observed grumpily.

The dragons infesting this patch of Berk were wild Zipplebacks. Snotlout could smell the rancid gas on the air. Thankfully, there were no explosions yet, but he didn't want to witness the first at close range. Meatlug seemed happily oblivious to the potential danger. She was snuffling and licking at some rocks.

"Come on, Meatlug!" Snotlout groaned. "This is not lunchtime!" He was about to go and grab her harness to tug her off to find the Zipplebacks when the scent of the gas grew unbearable.

He whirled around to see a huge Zippleback, purple and red and angry, bearing down on him. The gas-head was filling the clearing as fast as it could.

"Shit, shit!" Snotlout staggered backwards, tripped over a stone, fell flat on his back and heard his helmet clatter away. The Zippleback advanced. Gas-head leered at him, barely a foot away, drool dripping off those needle-fangs, and Snotlout couldn't breathe.

The air had become poison. The gas filled his mouth, his nose, his throat, his lungs. When he gasped for clean air, all he got was more foul green vapor. He choked. Asphyxiating on Zippleback gas was not, as far as he was aware, a feat of battle deserving of a seat in Valhalla. Just when he thought he was about to find that out first-hand, the Zippleback's eyes bulged.

Meatlug had thrown herself at the dragon with as much force as she could, knocking the wind out of it. Now it was gasping for air too, backtracking frantically under the onslaught of a very angry Gronckle. She snarled at it, snapping at its toes, wings, anything she could reach to defend Snotlout.

Evidently, this was too much trouble for a meager lunch. The Zippleback came to that decision and turned tail, lumbering off as fast as it could. Meatlug gave a few more defiant roars, then trotted back to Snotlout's side. He was kneeling on the forest floor, coughing and hacking his lungs out to rid himself of that gas. She whined and licked the side of his head.

"Thanks," he wheezed, patting her head. "Owe you one, girl."

Chapter Text

Fishlegs though that this exercise was a good idea... in theory. Yes, it would be very helpful to ensure that all the dragons trusted all the riders, if not equally, then at least enough to take care of them when their rider couldn't. But... he'd drawn the piece of paper with 'Hookfang' written on it. Snotlout hadn't been any happier to pull Meatlug.

He gripped Hookfang's horns as tight as he dared; he wasn't used to going this fast or moving around so much as they flew! He wasn't about to make a fool of himself. He would complete this mission with flying colors, and Snotlout would be jealous as usual. He wouldn't let himself be entertainment for the others.

Of course, he knew that the others valued him as a fellow rider. Hiccup knew he was important to the team! That didn't numb the sting of when the twins or Snotlout jabbed at him or Meatlug. It was lessening these days. He supposed they were all growing up.

The assigned swath of forest was host to a mated pair of Typhoomerangs. Hiccup had assigned Hookfang (and thereby Fishlegs) to flush them out, as a Monstrous Nightmare was closer in type to the Typhoomerangs than a Gronckle.

From the air, Fishlegs spotted the tell-tale overlapping spirals of a pair of Typhoomerangs. He swallowed the lump in his throat and steered Hookfang down to the charred clearing.

"H-hello?" he called, dismounting. "Mister and Missus Typhoomerang? Are you around here?" He heard a creaking from the trees nearby and fought down a whimper. His heart was racing. As cute as Torch had been, an adult Typhoomerang was another matter entirely!

Hookfang nuzzled under his hand and grumbled consolingly. Fishlegs flinched, then grinned and patted his temporary dragon. Hm, maybe he wasn't so bad.

The ground trembled. Something huge was stomping closer. Something horrifying, something mad? He shrank back and grabbed Hookfang's horn. Hookfang spread his wings to make himself look larger and started a snarl in his throat. Even though Fishlegs wasn't his rider, Hookfang was going to defend him.

The trees shook, then burst open. A huge purple and red Zippleback blundered into the clearing, spotted Hookfang's threatening posture, and floundered away again. Fishlegs let out a sigh of relief and patted Hookfang. "Thanks!"

Chapter Text

The elation of flying by herself was a novelty to Ruffnut. As fun as it was to rain simultaneous destruction with her brother, sometimes it chafed to be forced to work together.

Now, though, she was flying like an arrow around Berk's perimeter, whooping with joy to be in the sky. Stormfly seemed just as happy to hit the limits of her speed, racing her own shadow, looping clouds and chasing seagulls.

Oh, right. Ugh. The training exercise. Well, she could finish it quickly and get back to soaring. A group of Nadders were harassing Berk's fishing fleet out past the sea stacks, and she was in charge of seeing them off.

Skimming over the water towards the ships was fun in itself too. Stormfly snapped at a bird's tailfeather as they arrived at the ships. The fishermen were happy to see her; a wild Nadder was tussling with one of them and trying to fly off with a full net.

"Hey, spikes-for-brains!" Ruffnut hollered. "Dodge this!" She dug her heels into Stormfly's hips just how Astrid had showed her and laughed as the magnesium blast scared off the scavenger. The others were flying about in an alarmed cluster and Stormfly shot right through it. Most of the dragons scattered, but one was braver or maybe stupider than the others.

The brave (or stupid) Nadder fought for height against its panicked fellows and sent a barrage of green and yellow spines down onto the ships. Ruffnut heard a scream and saw blood before Stormfly started to chase the dragon. "Whoa, whoa!" Ruff yelled. It was one thing to scare off a bunch of skittish wild dragons, but once they started attacking, it was a different game.

It wasn't like she hadn't faced down terrifying dragons before; Changewings came to mind and so did good old Scauldy, but it was never fun in the moment. Stormfly was mad and wanted to teach this Nadder a lesson, and Ruffnut was along for the ride whether she wanted to be or not.

The upstart green and yellow Nadder screeched defiantly and shot another set of spikes at Stormfly, who twirled and dodged like a dancer. One spike, however, glanced off Ruff's helmet and sent it spinning down towards the water. "Noooo!" Ruff yelled, watching it fall, then let out a sigh of relief as a fisherman expertly tossed a net and snared it out of the air. "Thanks!" she yelled, but she couldn't be heard over Stormfly's burst of fire.

Neither wanting to back down, the Nadders danced in the air above the ships, trading flurries of spines and magnesium blasts. Ruffnut did her best to collaborate with Stormfly and help, but she had a feeling that Stormfly was acting on ancient instincts and couldn't care less that she had a rider at the moment.

After what felt like half and hour of tense exchanges and near misses, Stormfly sent a fire-burst to her opponent that forced it to flee, squealing pitifully. Down below, the fisherman cheered in delight as Ruffnut steered Stormfly down with only a minimum of desperation.

"Thank you so much!" said Hamish, captain of the lead ship. "Here, I think this is yours." He handed Ruffnut her helmet back.

"Thanks!" Ruff said. Turning to Stormfly and giving her a pat, she said "Let's go chase some more Nadders, huh?"

Chapter Text

Tuffnut couldn't believe his luck. The dragon assignments had been random; Hiccup had written all the names of the dragons down on bits of paper that he folded and tossed into his old helmet. All the riders had taken one paper out and that had been their assigned dragon for this exercise. To his delight and amazement, Tuff had pulled Toothless's name out!

Hiccup had spent an hour with Tuff before the exercise to go over just how to use the tailfin, what positions worked for what, and how to treat it carefully so it wouldn't break, where the spare was and how to attach it, blah blah blah.

Despite his desire not to bother, Tuffnut did actually pay close attention. It wasn't like he wanted to damage the intricate gears and levers, and he knew that he would never, ever hear the end of it from Hiccup if he messed this up. Just to be safe, Hiccup had made up a cheat-sheet for tail positions that he sewed onto the front of Toothless's saddle with a couple quick whip-stitches.

Toothless was a little annoyed to be riding with Tuff, but he behaved as Hiccup explained to him and allowed his temporary rider to mount and test the tailfin while still grounded. Once they got in the air, however, Toothless brightened considerably.

They made a few laps over Berk, Hiccup watching anxiously from Belch's saddle, but eventually they peeled off to do their part of the mission and left Tuff and Toothless on their own. Toothless knew he was in charge, and took them up and around the lower mountain peaks. Tuff didn't try the really fancy flying that Hiccup excelled at. No point in being reckless.

"Gods, did I really just think that?" he asked aloud, and laughed. "C'mon, T, let's go see about those wild Nightmares."

Toothless grunted, as if to say 'We were assigned to direct herds of boars into the paddocks!'

"I heard there's a wild Nightmare scaring the sheep over on the east side," Tuffnut insisted. "Hiccup's gonna be so proud if we scare it off!" Toothless snorted disapprovingly but allowed Tuff to steer him east.

Sure enough, there was a Nightmare in full flame. It had separated three sheep from the herd and had them cornered against a boulder, its wings mantled around them. Thankfully, one of them was a ram and had already tried to butt the Nightmare in the stomach.

Toothless came in low with his usual high whistle and sent a warning shot right past the Nightmare's head. It looked up and snarled.

"You leave those sheep alone!" Tuffnut shouted, and drew his mace to brandish at the dragon. "Go on, get outta here!"

The Nightmare glared at the human and sent a jet of fire lancing right towards him.

Quicker than he could process, Tuffnut saw Toothless throw up a wing to deflect the fiery blast. He still felt the heat, but only just, and held on tight as Toothless charged the Nightmare.

Once they got close to it, Tuff leapt off and ran alongside Toothless, mace waving and battlecry at the ready. The Nightmare tried to keep the sheep trapped and defend itself at the same time, but the sheep slipped loose and ran like mad for the rest of the herd. Tuffnut followed them and placed himself between them and the squalling dragons.

"Don't worry, noble sheep, your brave Tuffnut is here to save the day!" he cried. The Nightmare lunged at Toothless and its tail swept across the paddock right towards Tuff. He swung his mace in the opposite direction and got a good blow in, at just the same time as Toothless sent another warning shot right between the Nightmare's legs.

This was the last straw. It took off, screeching angrily, and vanished into the clouds.

"Wooo!" Tuffnut shouted, running forward to give Toothless a congratulatory scratching. "Nice going, T! I knew boar-herding would be a waste of time!" Toothless gave him a knowing glare and Tuff groaned. "Fiiiine, we'll go do that. But we gotta tell Hiccup what a good team we made!"

Chapter Text

Berk's summers, though brief, could be grueling to people more used to snow and ice. Every summer, especially during the Longest Days, a few Vikings fell victim to the wrath of Sol. No one had died this year, but it was still serious when a man collapsed after an hour of toiling in the sun.

After eighteen years of treating life as a thrill ride, the twins weren't too worried about any sort of danger. They were young! They were immortal! Nothing could hurt them for long! Tuffnut knew that the Longest Days were risky. But the entertainment of watching other Vikings succumb to sleep deprivation was too funny to miss.

He'd decided to sit on the wall overlooking the plaza today. Plenty of Vikings were going about their business, taking advantage of the surplus work-time to get more chores done. The sun beat down, shining deceptively on a world where it was actually mid-evening.

Today, however, things weren't as hilarious.

His head ached. No matter how much water he pulled up the well, he couldn't sate his thirst. His tongue felt like a lump of leather in his mouth. On his way back to his seat on the wall, his knees gave out.

"Tuff?!" Toothless streaked out of the sky and landed right next to Tuffnut. "Wh- are you okay?!" Hiccup leapt down and ran to kneel next to him. "Whoa, you're burning up!"

"Hgnh," Tuffnut said. He hadn't meant to; he had tried to say "Ha, Hiccup, your face looks funny..." Maybe it was just his vision that was warping and twisting like a heat-haze over a fire.

"Toothless, go get Ruffnut!" Hiccup cried, grabbing Tuffnut's shoulders. "And Gothi!" To Tuff, he said "Stay with me, Tuff. You're heatsick. We're gonna help you, please just hold on." Tuffnut groaned. He tried to sit up, but his arms gave out, twitching. Hiccup cursed. "This is bad. Oh, Tuff, what were you doing?"

Watching everyone go loopy from lack of sleep, Tuffnut wanted to reply. He couldn't force his mouth to work, though. He felt a cool hand on his forehead and closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

He came to as if he was rising out of a pool of murky water. The last... interminable period of time was eluding him. He remembered sitting in the plaza, feeling awful and wishing it was midwinter, and now he was here. Here?

Tuffnut tried to open his eyes. There was something cool and wet over them. He raised a hand to move it and groaned at the effort it took.

"Hey," a voice said, and the damp cloth was removed. Tuff blinked and squinted up at Hiccup. "Feeling any better?"

"Some," Tuff croaked. His throat and mouth felt like a dusty boot. "Ugh." Hiccup set the cloth aside and helped Tuff drink some water. It felt heavenly and he could have wept at the relief. "Where are we?" he asked as Hiccup set the cup down again and soaked the cloth.

"The caves," Hiccup said. "It's a lot cooler in here." And it was, Tuff realized. Almost chilly, in fact. He was lying on a pallet in a stone chamber. More pallets lined the walls, holding other exhausted Berkians. "Gothi's making the rounds, giving everyone feverfew to help with the heat," Hiccup told him. "You're not the only one who collapsed."

"How about Ruff?" Tuffnut asked.

"She's okay," Hiccup said. "She's with the others, helping to get people in here if they're taken sick too far away. My dad and I are helping Gothi." He wrung out the cloth and put it back over Tuffnut's eyes.

Tuffnut lay back and groaned. His head was killing him. He'd been drinking water, he remembered, but it didn't seem to have been helping. He still felt shriveled. "I hate summer."

"I know for a fact that's not true," Hiccup snorted. "You, hating fireworks and swimming weather? Yeah, right."

A grin tugged at Tuff's lips. Well, fine. If it was put that way.

"And anyway," Hiccup continued, "if it snowed all the time, you and Ruff wouldn't be able to wear those ridiculous straw helmets you made."

"You guys never wear yours," Tuff mock-pouted. "Takes a lot of work to make those things."

"Toothless burned mine," Hiccup said. "He says it was an accident."

"I know that dragon," Tuff said. "He's jealous I didn't make him one. Tell him if he apologizes, I'll make one for him."

Hiccup laughed. "I'll tell him later. Try and rest, huh? I'll come back to check on you in a while." Tuffnut heard him stand up and move away to check on another Berkian, then he slipped back into a doze.

It must have been a while later when Hiccup returned, but Tuff didn't feel much different. Hiccup sounded more tired, though.

"Hey, Tuff," Hiccup said. He felt Tuff's skin and frowned. "Hmm. You're still pretty warm."

"Not dead yet," Tuffnut said.

Hiccup helped him sit up, then wrapped an arm around his waist to bring him to his feet. "Come on, Gothi's got a cold pool for people who need it." Tuff closed his eyes at the way the chamber spun as Hiccup helped him down a rough corridor to an underground pool.

The water was delightfully cool. Not freezing, but like a cold embrace. Tuff sighed in relief as Hiccup helped him sit on a rock, then leaned back against the edge. "Ohh, I need to live here," Tuff muttered.

Gothi's leathery hands patted at his face to rouse him. She'd brought the feverfew Hiccup had mentioned and made him drink a measure of it. It wasn't tasty, but Tuff knew it would help. He cupped his hands and drank some of the lovely cool water to wash down the medicinal taste and lay back again.

"Typical," a familiar voice said. "I'm out in the heat of the day saving lives, and here's my brother lounging in a pool." Ruff had entered, a sardonic smirk evident in her tone.

"Come on in," Tuff said, turning to smile at his twin. "The water's fine."

"Nah," she said. "Gotta bring some more people in. You feeling better, bro?"

He grimaced. "Almost."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure. Don't die on me."

"Don't worry, I'd come back to haunt you!" he called as she left.

A few of the other Berkians recuperating in the pool shushed him but Tuff ignored them. His head was starting to feel a bit better; there must have been willow-bark in the brew Gothi gave him. Well, he wasn't going to complain. He lay back and relaxed. He'd have to take too much heat tomorrow too; he could get used to this.

Chapter Text

He wasn't going to stop fighting for any reason, unless they knocked him unconscious. Savage was nursing a bloody nose, Alvin had come away with a broken finger, and one unlucky Outcast would have a tooth-mark shaped scar on his arm for the rest of his life.

Hiccup kicked and twisted; he writhed and squirmed; he wrenched and thrashed; and did not let up. Alvin wanted him to train dragons? Ha, he couldn't even get Hiccup into a cell in his dungeons!

The Outcasts tasked with manhandling Hiccup into a cell were losing their patience. One yelled in pain as Hiccup caught him a fierce blow in the shin with his prosthetic, and the other cursed.

"Here," he snapped, and dragged Hiccup over to a wall. "Go grab some rope," he ordered his injured fellow. "I've 'ad enough with this!" Hiccup tried to break free from the man as the other Outcast limped away, but yelped in pain as the man shoved him hard against the stone wall. "You're more trouble than you're worth, boy," the man snarled.

Hiccup glared back and said "Tell that to Alvin. You need me."

"Don't need you in perfect condition," the man countered. The man returned with rope, and the two Outcasts bound Hiccup tightly. Hands behind him, around his upper arms and torso, above his knees and at his ankles. Once they were satisfied, they each gripped the ropes and dragged Hiccup all the way to the cells.

Chapter Text

How long would it take to bleed out? With the size of the gash, probably a couple of hours. And he was a day's journey from the Edge. The others were scattered all over the little island chain surveying the dragon population.

Calm, he had to stay calm, had to stay calm and not panic, not let up the pressure on his abdomen, try and breathe even though every movement was agony, sit down even though his movements were stiff and jerky. He was sweating, his face clammy and his hands would be damp if they weren't soaked in his own blood.

He managed to lower himself to the forest floor and lean against a rock. His breath hissed between his teeth as he tried to collect his thoughts. Shock was setting in already; he felt dizzy and sick. Of course, seeing a lot of his own blood spattered all over the clearing and himself wasn't helping.

He'd thought the Nightmare was gentling, he really did. He'd tried to approach it carefully. He'd tried to place a hand on its nose. Next thing he knew, he'd been headbutted across the clearing by a dragon with horns as long as his arm.

Toothless had chased the Nightmare away with a furious screeching roar that Hiccup had never heard before. Now he was back, darting side to side, whining in terror and trying to see if Hiccup was okay. The copious amounts of blood were a good indication to the contrary.

Hiccup raised the bloodstained hand not currently engaged in holding his stomach closed. "Di-... distress call..."

The plasma blast almost outshone the sun.

Chapter Text

When Gothi had decided to teach all the riders a bit of basic field medicine, none of them except Fishlegs had been very interested. The twins knew enough to keep most of their blood and organs are on the inside of their bodies. Snotlout knew how to keep swelling down and get blood out of clothes, though he refused to say why. Hiccup knew how to treat burns from his forge-work. Astrid could dress the odd scrape or cut from sparring practice.

Gothi was unimpressed with their collective knowledge. After an hour of translated lecture, she sent them away with a small bundle of first-aid essentials each and an order to come back the next day. Hiccup found himself going home alongside Astrid and made his move.

"Well, that could've been more interesting," he tried. "I was gonna fall asleep but she's probably hit me with her staff..."

Astrid shrugged. "Fishlegs is right; it's good stuff to know." She grinned. "Still boring. Wanna come fly with me?"

Hiccup's heart leapt. "Yes!" he said, trying not to say it too fast. "Toothless, come on!" His dragon roused himself from napping at the base of Gothi's platform and looked just as excited as Hiccup to get in the air, but for different reasons. Hiccup grinned back at Astrid as she called Stormfly and mounted up.

An hour later, neither of them were grinning anymore.

They'd flown for a while and landed near the cove. Both dragons seemed to like it there, so Hiccup and Astrid walked behind them as they gamboled and frolicked. Hiccup was still a bit nervous around Astrid, and, more importantly, unsteady on his new leg.

So when they skirted around a fallen tree in their path by edging along the rim of the cove's hollow, Hiccup slipped.

A few very painful and crowded seconds later, he was staring up at Astrid from the floor of the cove. His head was throbbing and something warm was seeping though his sleeve. When he tried to groan, he realized that he couldn't breathe.

"Hiccup!" Astrid cried, leaning down over the edge. "Oh my gods, are you okay?!"

Hiccup wheezed and tried to catch his breath, but panic was setting in. Why wouldn't his lungs work?

"H-hold on, I'm coming down there!" A moment later, Astrid landed next to Hiccup with Stormfly's help.

Toothless leapt down into the bowl of the cove and frantically nosed at Hiccup's hair, whining. Hiccup wanted to push him away but couldn't move more than a bit because of the pain.

"Gods, okay," Astrid said. She was panicking too, but shoved it down. Hiccup managed to grasp her arm and squeezed tight as his vision dimmed. "Just try and breathe, Hiccup, relax, it's okay."

After a few more agonizing seconds of panic, Hiccup's lungs allowed air in again. He wanted to gulp it down, but warning twinges from his ribs made him resort to shallower pants. "What was that?" he managed, when he could speak again.

"Never got the wind knocked out of you before?" Astrid asked. "it happened to me in training a few times; Ruffnut got me in the stomach with the edge of a shield. It sucks, but it passes." She gave the rest of him a critical look. "Ouch. Let's get you patched up." Stormfly hopped over and Astrid took down a pouch that was attached to her saddle. "Gothi's kit," she said. "Should have what we need..."

Hiccup was bleeding from his right arm, which had snagged on a branch on the way down, the side of his head, which must have hit a rock when he'd landed, and knees and ellbows, which had scraped everything possible. Astrid worked slowly, stopping when Hiccup made a noise of pain or gasped at the sting of water in the wounds, but kept going. Before too long, she'd used all her bandages and Hiccup looked much better.

He didn't feel much better though, especially when he noticed that his prosthetic was bent and twisted. His heart sank at the thought of hopping all the way back to Berk through the forest.

When he showed Astrid, she thought for a moment, then knelt down with her back to him. "Climb on."

"Wha--?"

"Climb on, I'll carry you back!" She noticed Hiccup's hesitation and laughed. "Hiccup, you weigh less than a sheep. Come on, if we start now we'll be back before dark."

Awkwardly, and with many pauses to groan in pain, he managed to sit up and lean onto Astrid's back. She stood up and looped his leg around her waist to hold his right ankle in her left hand so he wouldn't fall. He clutched the damaged prosthetic in his free hand, the other gripping her pauldron, and they set off with the dragons in tow.

Hiccup blushed the whole way home.

Chapter Text

Just before Viggo shut the heavy steel door, he paused.

"If you are not aware, my dear, art vaults are usually kept at close to zero pressure to preserve the masterpieces." He gave Hiccup a smirk. Before Hiccup could process the fact, the door had slammed and the bolts slid into place.

A mechanical whining filled the cramped space. Air pumps! He was going to vacuum out all the air and let Hiccup die in here! Even though he knew it would only hasten his demise, Hiccup couldn't help panicking. His breath came fast in the increasingly thin air; the cords around his wrists were biting into his skin and they'd taken his prosthetic, so he couldn't stand and try and find a hatch on the door.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Surely Viggo didn't want Hiccup dead just like this! If his infuriating remarks or suggestive glances were any indication, anyway. But there was no doubt that Hiccup was going to suffocate in here if he didn't get out.

He managed to scoot along until he was by the door, then slam his foot against it. The sound was weak, even to his own ears. The sound of blood rushing through his head wasn't helping. He raised his foot for another try, but his vision was darkening. He took one last gasp… and he knew no more.

Viggo was never going to let Hiccup die, of course: he was much too fascinated by the young man to waste him so egregiously. As soon as he saw Hiccup’s struggles cease on his video feed tablet, Viggo reopened the vault and let the fresh air rush back in.
Hiccup was curled right beside the door, unconscious and limp.

Ryker would have scoffed at his sentimentality, but Viggo didn't care what his guards thought. He passed one of them the tablet and stooped down, fancy suit and all, to heft the comatose activist over his shoulders.

Hiccup could recover in comfort in the room Viggo had picked out for him, cushioned by luxurious furs.

Chapter Text

It was a party, he had to admit. Looking around, Hiccup could add up a million dollars in under a minute. That was just the wine table. Sharply dressed guests laughed and talked in small groups, occasionally glancing his way and whispering to each other. He caught a few pointing surreptitiously and laughing behind their hands.

The smell of the food, expertly prepared by a chef flown in from Thailand for twelve hours of work and then flown out again, made his stomach complain. He hadn't eaten anything for a day and a half.

Not for lack of Viggo trying, though. The priciest organic and vegan foods were served to him, but Hiccup didn't want a thing from this man. Toothless was happy to eat whatever Viggo offered; he was a cat! How was he supposed to know he was eating the meat of endangered grouses from sub-Saharan Africa? Hiccup could only watch in horror.

He shifted uncomfortably. The shoe Viggo had picked for him had a narrow toe and pinched, but he wasn't allowed to sit. He was standing in front of the fireplace (probably burning irreplaceable old-growth wood), waiting to be addressed by Viggo or one of his guests. The notion of 'only speak when spoken to' had required some cruel lessons to take hold. Viggo's head of security (and brother) Ryker was a big fan of the taser.

Viggo drifted over from a group of almost-identical old white men. His own suit, blacker than panther fur and lined with crisp red silk, was immaculate. Hiccup glanced at the spot where his blood from a split lip had landed earlier and saw no trace.

"Enjoying yourself?" Viggo asked, his trademark smirk kindling irritation in Hiccup's gut. "I'd like to introduce you, my dear."

"Show me off, you mean?" Hiccup growled. He wanted to shove Viggo, but between Ryker glaring at him from a corner and the handcuffs around his wrists, he knew it was a bad idea.

They were silver-plated, if he was any judge. They matched the cuff-links on the Dhaka muslin shirt and the buttons on the jade-green silk embroidered waistcoat. His own suit was almost as dark as Viggo's, but probably nowhere near as high-end.

"Yes," Viggo conceded. "A bit of showing-off. A tasteful amount." He reached into his pocket and removed what looked like a long necklace without a pendant. He clasped one end to the links between Hiccup's wrists and held the other in his hand; Hiccup gritted his teeth as he realized he'd been leashed like a dog.

"Gentlemen," Viggo called to the men he'd been chatting with. "As I'm sure you know, my art collection is extensive. May I introduce my new crown jewel, the Night Fury!"

Impressed and shocked exclamations rang around the room. Viggo tugged and Hiccup had no choice but to follow Viggo into the center of the group. The men watched, fascination on most faces and some level of wariness on others. Hiccup felt a spark of pride; his reputation preceded him. He'd probably blown up or set fire to at least one property of every man here, and he was proud of it.

"Heavens, man," one said. "You've only gone and caught the annoying brat! What's with the chains?"

"I am sure he would be at all our throats if I didn't keep him in check," Viggo said smoothly. He laid his free hand over Hiccup's shoulders and pulled him close. "Wouldn't you, Hiccup?"

Another man guffawed. "Hiccup?! The man who bombed three of my warehouses and cost me half a billion dollars in stocks is named Hiccup?!"

Blood rushed to Hiccup's face; The Night Fury had a much more fearsome ring to it. Of course, this was all to humiliate him. Viggo was drinking in his misery and suppressed anger. If Hiccup snapped, Ryker would be there immediately with his beloved taser and it would be back to the dreaded room for Hiccup. He probably wouldn't get to see Toothless for a week.

"As silly as the name is, I'm sure you remember the deeds," Viggo said. He raised the hand holding the leash, mocking terror. "My summer home, attacked by vandals! One of my offices, overthrown by teenagers with fire extinguishers!" He laughed along with the men. "I found him placing explosives along the fence at the edge of this property two weeks ago. Since he wanted to come inside badly enough to make his own entrance, I granted his wish!"

"Cleaned up well enough for two weeks," another man said, looking at Hiccup critically. "Decent-looking."

"More than that, in my opinion," Viggo said, squeezing Hiccup closer. "Quite easy on the eyes, indeed. If not on the bottom line."

Hiccup wanted to scream as the men roared with laughter.

Chapter Text

He didn't know why he'd done it. It was a stupid idea that was going to cost him his job and reputation at the very least; indeed, he'd be lucky to escape without years of jailtime.

But... looking in the rearview mirror of his car, he felt a deep rush of excitement. He couldn't see much in the dark, but what he could see was making his heart pound like a drum.

Tousled brown hair, flashing occasionally as he drove under a streetlight. A freckled face which shone a little paler than usual from the pills. A gangly form sprawled across the three seats with one leg stuck up at an awkward angle.

Oh, he knew this was the beginning of the end. It could only be, with the nature of this reckless and impulsive act. But he could go out with a bang. He laughed at the unintentional wordplay. His passenger groaned briefly.

Viggo's determination increased. He pressed the gas pedal as far as he dared; it wouldn't do to have the boy wake up before they'd reached the destination. A lovely little cabin, two or so hours outside of town. It had been his grandfather's, and his brother had wanted nothing to do with it... so Viggo had made it his own. It would be the perfect place.

He'd set this up weeks in advance. The whole plan hadn't been impulsive; just this evening's events. Everything was happening so fast. That was alright though, he'd been ready for a week. The house was stocked with food, firewood, fresh water, clothes, toiletries, the lot. Crinkling gently on the front seat beside him was a bouquet of a dozen roses wrapped in plastic.

The turnoff for the cabin was easy to miss in daylight, but Viggo had the route memorized. He steered onto the rough gravel road up to the cabin and winced as he heard his passenger moan at the bumps. Soon, soon, they'd be out of the car and in the house. Then it would all be fine. The headlights flashed across the windows of the cabin and Viggo sighed in relief.

He parked, got out, and grabbed the roses. He unlocked the door's four bolts and entered, turning on a few lights as he did. He wanted the place to look welcoming, after all. Setting the flowers on the kitchen table, he went back out to the car.

Hiccup was still unconscious. The pills Viggo had slipped into his water bottle during after-school detention were working well, and he'd timed it right so that Hiccup would wake soon. Viggo opened the back door of the car and gripped Hiccup's wrists.

The boy groaned again, but his body seemed to understand that it was time to stand up. Viggo got him sitting, then leaning against him. His feet were unsteady, especially the metal one on the gravel, but together they made it inside. Viggo guided Hiccup to the couch and lay him down, then retrieved the bags from the trunk. He locked the car and returned to the house.

Then... he pulled up a chair across from the couch. It wouldn't be long before Hiccup woke; he'd be disoriented but he'd soon calm down. Viggo had brought wine, some liquor, too. He didn't know what Hiccup liked. He took a deep breath; it would be important to be calm when his guest awoke. This was meant to be a lover's retreat, not an ordeal.

Hiccup stirred and Viggo smiled.

Chapter Text

Hadn't Gothi explained that sometimes her concoctions spoiled? Hiccup racked his brains as he stared at the little pot of ointment. He remembered it being green... but now it was closer to brown. Oh well. It was past midnight, he was exhausted, and he just wanted to get these burns seen to before he collapsed.

Early the next morning, he groaned as he woke up. The oily goo he'd wiped on the burns was still stinging. He unwrapped the bandages from around his forearm. The burn looked worse this morning than it had in the light of the forge last night. Angry redness surrounded the burn, or at least that much of it that he could see through the sticky residue. Well, that was probably a good sign... He wiped the ointment off with a damp cloth and rebound the bandage.

By afternoon, the burn was throbbing. Hiccup winced every time he moved his arm; it was getting unbearable. The skin around it felt hot, both to the touch and on its own. A sure sign that something was wrong... When he changed the dressings, he saw that the wound was swollen slightly. The skin around it was tender and hot. He swore. This was bad.

He woke with a pounding headache. The dawn light was clear and brilliant, and Hiccup felt like being sick. When he moved his arm, he yelped; the pain and heat had intensified. His skin felt hot all over, too. The pain in his head was making him woozy.

"Hiccup?" Someone was downstairs.

"Up here," he called, and winced as his head twinged. "I- I think I'm sick."

Snotlout appeared at the top of the stairs. "What? What happened?"

Hiccup showed him the bandage. This morning, something had oozed through it and a faint smell of illness permeated the air.

"Oh, gods," Snotlout said. He immediately sat by Hiccup's side and put a hand on his face. "You're burning up! Hiccup, when did this happen?!"

"Couple days ago," Hiccup muttered. Snotlout's hand was wonderfully cool. "Burn. Gothi's salve m-made it worse..." He nodded towards the little pot.

Snotlout grabbed it, sniffed it, gagged. "Hiccup, this smells like yak dung! What year did Gothi make this?!" Hiccup could only groan. "For Thor's sake," Snotlout grumbled. "Come on, I'm taking you to Fishface."

Hiccup squeezed his eyes shut against the pain as Snotlout hefted him up and over a shoulder. Toothless whined in concern and followed them to Fishlegs' hut.

"What on Midgard happened?!" Fishlegs cried as Snotlout lay Hiccup on the table.

"This idiot rubbed something like yak dung into an open wound," Snotlout snapped. He handed Fishlegs the pot of rancid ointment.

Fishlegs took a cautious sniff and went green. "Oh, gods. This is very old." He carefully unwrapped the wound and groaned. "Hiccup... this is bad..."

"I know," Hiccup mumbled.

"He's burning up," Snotlout said. "Feel his face."

Fishlegs' cool, dry hand pressed against Hiccup's forehead. "Snotlout, go get my surplus healing supplies for the storehouse," he said. "I need more herbs than I have here."

"He'll be fine, right?" Snotlout asked as he made to leave.

"Ummmm," Fishlegs sounded very concerned. "Yyyyes, I think so."

"Toothless will probably eat you if he dies."

Chapter Text

The headaches were getting worse. He'd dealt with them before, either from forgetting to eat or staying up half the night in the forge, but now they were a daily problem.

It had been a week since the crash, and he was doing better. After hitting the deck of the hunter shipwreck while being chased by the Skrill, Hiccup had felt terrible. Sick, woozy, unable to see straight. He'd been sick a couple times on the way to seal the Skrill in the iceberg again, but he chalked it up to stress and delayed reaction to almost being shot through the heart by Ryker. And of course, grappling with the thought of imprisoning a dragon.

Now, however, his problems continued. It was a fine day outside, and he was sitting at his desk with his head in his arms and a bit of willow-bark grinding between his teeth. The pain was sharp and insistent. Fishlegs had noted that Hiccup had taken a harsh fall (definitely more of a crash, but Hiccup wasn't going to admit to that) and done what he could, but had told him that a lot of healing just took time.

A gentle knock sounded at the door of his hut and he winced at the way it echoed around his head. Astrid's skirt jingled quietly from the spikes in a way he'd come to recognize, so he knew it was her without bothering to lift his pounding head.

"Hey," she said quietly. "Doing okay today?"

"What does it look like?" he replied. It was getting harder and harder not to be nasty in conversation, which didn't help with the stress of a long recovery.

"Looks like not," she said. She wasn't taking his irritation personally, thank Thor. "Want me to get Fishlegs?"

"No," Hiccup said. "Stay wi' me?"

"Sure." He felt the chair beside him slide back and gritted his teeth hard at the noise. A hand appeared on his back and rubbed gently. "I want to help. Can you tell me if you need anything?"

"Don't."

"But if you do--"

"I DON'T!" Hiccup shoved back from the table as his temper flared like lightning, just as hot and just as suddenly. Astrid looked shocked, her hand still hovering over where his back had been. He groaned. Nausea swept over him and he lurched to the bucket by the firepit just in time.

Astrid hesitated, then moved to put a hand on Hiccup's back as he retched, then leaned back on his knees. Wordlessly, she passed him a rag and a cup of water. He wiped his mouth and drank, then leaned over to put his head on her knees.

"I don't know why it isn't getting better," he whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut as tears forced their way between his lashes. "What if it never does?"

Her fingers felt so nice through his hair, as sweaty and greasy as it felt. Bathing had been insurmountable, but he suddenly and desperately wanted to to be clean.

"It's just taking some time," Astrid murmured. "I know this is hard. Reminds me of when I was blinded." She leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "I remember what you said then. Always a Hiccup and Astrid. Always."

Chapter Text

It was shaping up to be a good day, at least by the new standards Hiccup was adopting. He'd woken up without a headache. That probably meant it would arrive later in the day, but for the time being, he was happy to be able to do... well, anything.

He patted Toothless's shoulder as he passed and his dragon stared at him; Hiccup was happier than Toothless had seen him in weeks. "C'mon bud, I want to fly." His dragon got up with a happy grunt and followed him downstairs.

"It's been too long," Hiccup said wistfully. He'd tried to fly a patrol with one of his headaches and was back in his hut being sick before five minutes had passed. Today, he was going to get some fresh air if it killed him.

Toothless warbled happily as Hiccup mounted up on the platform outside the hut, wiggling with excitement. "Hiccup!" Astrid called in surprise. "You're up!"

"And flying!" Hiccup replied with a grin. "Doesn't hurt today!"

"That's amazing!" Astrid said, smiling just as broadly. "Can Stormfly and I tag along?"

"If you can catch us," Hiccup said slyly, and Toothless shot skyward.

The air in his face felt amazing. He laughed in pure joy as they fought for height, then let out a long whoop as Toothless reached the top of his arc and tipped over into the plummet. His heart raced as the ground rushed up towards him. Everything went black without warning.

Astrid was watching from a few hundred feet behind as Hiccup and Toothless claimed the sky once more, a smile hurting her cheeks. It made her incredibly happy to see Hiccup like this, to see him come alive again. He'd been a shell of himself since the accident.

Moody, withdrawn, tense, quick to anger. He'd been ill too, having to duck out of dinner to be sick so many times he eventually stopped attending. His head ached every day, so badly that he had to keep his hut like a cave. The stale air in there wasn't helping his mentality either.

But in the air, with Toothless again, it was like it had never happened. He seemed so light, so free. She could almost forget what he'd been like just yesterday, when she'd wiped the tears from his eyes and told him she'd be there for him, always.

Way above them, Toothless began one of his ground-scorching dives from the clouds. She smirked, knowing she'd hear Hiccup's voice in a moment, flowing out behind him as they fell. It always sounded so funny.

She didn't hear it this time. Toothless streaked past her, Hiccup on his back, but her heart froze. Something was terribly wrong. Hiccup was slumped over the saddle. They were moving too fast for her to see, but he didn't look conscious.

"Stormfly, dive!" Astrid screamed. Her dragon put on a burst of speed, not merely falling, but flying downward as fast as she could.

They were catching up to Toothless, and Astrid could see now that Hiccup wasn't controlling him. She leapt from the saddle and dived for Toothless, managing to get on behind Hiccup. She kicked his prosthetic out of its stirrup and forced her foot in. Toothless was wailing in confusion; he had no idea what was happening!

Neither did Astrid. She flicked the fin to open it and turned their death-spiral into a steep dive, making for the arena. They landed in a horrifying confusion of dust and wings, Stormfly touching down in the same heartbeat as Toothless.

"Get Fishlegs!" Astrid shouted to her dragon, and bless her, she went.

Hiccup wasn't unconscious, or at least it was no unconsciousness Astrid had ever seen.

He was shaking all over, his head lolling, his muscles twitching, his teeth clacking. Astrid stared. She didn't know what to do. Was this some sort of fit sent by an angry god? Had Hiccup been cursed? Was he dying right here in front of her? She gripped his shoulders and tried to stop him, but he thrashed too much for her to get a hold.

"Astrid!" someone yelled from above. "What's-- oh, Thor!" It was Fishlegs on Meatlug, who immediately herded Toothless away from the humans. "Oh gods, oh Thor! He's having a fit!"

"You think so?!" Astrd screamed. "What's happening?"

"Wait, just wait!" Fishlegs cried. He knelt beside Hiccup and grabbed his wrist. "He'll stop---"

And Hiccup fell still.

Chapter Text

Once they ran out of questions, they left him curled up on the floor. They'd be back with more tomorrow. The questions probably wouldn't even have anything to do with dragons. After running out of those, they asked humiliating ones. How old are you? Ever kissed a girl, runt? Bet he hasn't. Look at him, scrawny! Do you fancy the blond one? Does she kiss good? Have you bedded her? How about the dark haired one?

He'd refused to answer, but they could see how angry it was making him and they laughed at that. They made it a game to ask the most enraging question, even if they knew they weren't getting an answer out of him. One asked how big he was and tried to reach for his belt, but Hiccup planted his prosthetic right in the man's mouth and he'd had to be dragged off by his friends, howling.

Now Hiccup was attached to the wall by a rope tied around his neck. It wasn't loose enough that he could slip it off, but not tight enough to strangle. Anyway, the manacles made it hard to maneuver anything. He resigned himself to trying to sleep. It would be no use to tire himself out.

He'd been stupid to fly solo to the Northern Markets. He knew, but he'd done it anyway. Trader Johann had said he had a lead, but the contact never showed. Hiccup had waited in the grimy tavern all night, and after he dozed off around dawn, he'd been in this cell upon waking. The hunters knew exactly who he was and were only waiting til their boss got there, whoever that was now that Viggo and Ryker were dead.

A whistle jolted him out of sleep. It had sounded so familiar...

It came again, and was quickly followed by an explosion. Hunters yelled in panic outside Hiccup's barred window. He scrambled to his feet in time to see a stack of crates turn into flaming kindling. Toothless's roar echoed to him across the compound.

"Toothless!" Hiccup yelled, pressing his face to the bars. "Toothless, I'm here!"

More shouting and explosions, then a shadow flashed down in front of the window. Green eyes with very narrow pupils flashed in the torchlight. Hiccup tried to get as close to the corner as he could, but it still shook the whole room as Toothless blasted a hole through the wall. The ring that Hiccup's "leash" had been tied to was gone. The manacles could be dealt with later; they were in front of him so he could still steer. He ran out of the ruined cell and leapt onto Toothless's back.

"Let's go, bud!" he cried, and held on tight as Toothless streaked upwards, leaving the smoking and destroyed compound behind.

Chapter Text

As far as cells went, this one was fairly large. Hiccup, manacled to one wall, was at least ten feet away from Astrid, bound to a post, on the other side. The other riders were somewhere else, but Hiccup couldn't spare a thought for them right now. Ryker had stepped forward with a knife.

"We'll start slow, eh?" he said. "Nothing too bad." He positioned the blade between Astrid's shoulder blades; she was tied in a way to expose her back. "Tell me where you dragon-loving bastards have taken my brother."

"Don't do it!" Astrid snapped over her shoulder. "I can take anything he can throw at me, Hiccup!" She gasped as the tip of the knife bit into her skin. Hiccup strained against his chains as blood bloomed through her sky-blue tunic.

"I-- I won't tell you," Hiccup said. He couldn't take his eyes off Astrid.

"You will," Ryker assured him. "It's just a matter of how much you let her go through first."

"Don't listen to him!" Astrid said. "I'm a warrior, I can take it!" Ryker laughed and grabbed the end of her braid, dragging it down to expose her throat.

"We could do this a different way," he said, and moved the knife. "I could kill them one by one, til you tell me."

"You wouldn't," Hiccup said with no conviction. He didn't know WHAT Ryker would do. He desperately didn't want to find out.

"I have an idea of another way..." Ryker leaned forward and smelled Astrid's hair. "It might be better for you, girl. You might like it."

"NO!" Hiccup yelled, throwing himself against the chains. He couldn't see Astrid's face but her shoulders had tensed and her fists clenched. "No, don't!"

Ryker shrugged. "Fine. Blond isn't my type, anyway." He waved to a hunter nearby and the man handed him a rod of iron with a symbol on the end. A brand. It was already hot. "Let's try this, then." He let go of Astrid's hair and pressed the knife at the base of her neck, then sliced down. She gasped, but there was no injury; he had cut her tunic down to the waist. Hiccup, watching in blank-minded horror, noticed that he'd left her breast-binding intact and thanked every god he could think of...

until Ryker raised the brand.

"Last chance," he said. The brand was of the hunter's flaming fist. It shone red-hot in the dim torchlight.

"Do not," Astrid said, her voice strangled with suppressed terror. "Don't do it."

"I have to!" Hiccup cried. "I can't let him--!"

"Start talking," Ryker growled. His hand moved a bit closer and Hiccup could see Astrid pressing herself against the post, straining to get away from the metal. "

He's hidden on Berk," Hiccup said, eyes not leaving the brand. "In a special cell in the old Whispering Death Tunnels."

"Was that so hard?" Ryker said. He grinned as if an idea had just occurred to him. "I think I'll surprise him with a new slave when I break him out."

The next five seconds were chaos.

Ryker pressed the brand into Astrid's shoulder.

She screamed and the noise mingled with Hiccup's own howl of anguish and fury.

An explosion rocked the cell.

Daylight poured in.

Snotlout burst in, quickly followed by the others and their dragons. Toothless wasted no time in charging for Ryker and delivering a plasma blast that sent him through the next wall with a crunch.

Hiccup didn't care that his wrists were tearing, didn't care that the scream he was screaming would make him lose his voice, didn't care that Ryker was almost certainly dead, he just had to get to Astrid.

Toothless sent a perfect plasma blast that broke the link of the chain holding Hiccup to the wall. Not waiting for the others to help him up, Hiccup scrambled and crawled across the rubble of the room to Astrid's side.

She was conscious but blank-faced. She knew what had happened, as did all of them. The gravity of it hadn't crushed Hiccup yet but he knew it would. He had to see it. He ripped the ropes holding her to the post away and took her in his arms. She didn't relax, didn't move, didn't speak.

Carefully, very carefully, Hiccup rolled her over and forced himself to look at the brand.

Ryker had been knocked off his feet by the explosion before he'd been able to do the brand properly... only about half the symbol was seared into her skin.

This was still bad. If Viggo knew, he could parlay it into full ownership by some obscure clause or verdict. They had to keep it secret, they had to...

Hiccup's mind wasn't working right. He'd never have thought of it in his right mind. It was so far out of what his morals dictated that he was without a map. But it was what had to happen.

"Fishlegs," he said, not taking his eyes off Astrid. "Get me the brand of Berk's crest." They used it to mark trees on islands they'd been to.

"You can't be serious," Snotlout said flatly.

"It's the only way to fix this," Hiccup said. "Fishlegs. Now."

Fishlegs whimpered and rummaged in his saddlebag for a moment, then produced the metal design.

"Toothless," Hiccup said, holding it out. His dragon hesitated, then gave a blast that had the brand glowing instantly.

"I have to do this," Hiccup muttered, not really to anyone. Astrid was still staring at nothing.

"She'll legally belong to you," Fishlegs said quietly.

"Better him than Ryker," Astrid whispered.

Hiccup applied the brand directly over the fist.

Chapter Text

Gruffnut's final attack had taken a lot out of Tuff. It was bad enough that his friends had been so easily fooled (but not Ruff, thank Thor), but the bastard had gotten in more than a few good hits.

He was confined to bed for three days' recovery by Fishlegs, and no time off for good behavior. Not that his behavior was ever good enough to warrant it.

Wincing, he reached for the water on his bedside table. Now, which part of him ached for what reason? Arms, from the attempts to escape his ropes. Chest, he'd taken a knee to the ribs. Head, oh yes, from being knocked unconscious by his own cousin.

The familial violence didn't bother him much, considering who he was and who his twin was. It was the betrayal; it stung worse than the scratches made by unkempt fingernails. He'd looked up to Gruffnut for so long, and this was how he was repaid. His adoration and hero-worship had gained him nothing but pain, in multiple senses.

It also stung that he'd brushed off Ruffnut so readily. He had been made to regret it, of course, but the trust between them had wavered. She'd tried to tell him, tried so much to show him that Gruffnut was lying again, but he'd ignored her for his own fantasy. It had almost cost him their dragon.

Would she trust him again? It made his chest ache all the worse to think she wouldn't. He'd apologized profusely to her, and sure, she'd said it was okay. But did she mean it?

That thought would keep him up for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

Stump Day on Berk was a lively affair, since about half of Berk's population was missing some body part or another, whether to dragons or frostbite.

Hiccup wasn't actually thrilled to be joining the festivities this year.

The wound under his new prosthetic hurt most of the time, and when it didn't, his other leg ached from taking the strain. He walked different, moved different, flew different. Thankfully he hadn't had much experience flying the other sort of way, and Toothless was endlessly patient as he learned how to control this new foot.

But whether he wanted to join or not, he was being invited and couldn't refuse. Not only was he the chief's son and a very visible figure, he hadn't been expected to survive his wounds. Now that everyone was overjoyed to see him and celebrate him, he was heartily invited.

He just wanted to stay home. His father woke him with a rattle of the bed.

"Up you get, son!" Stoick said. "Stump Day! Gobber can't wait to see you!"

"Y-yeah, dad, about that..." Hiccup sat up and winced as his leg stabbed at him. "I don't think I can, uh, participate."

"What? Of course you can!" his father said. "Come on, it's time!"

"N-no, dad, I can't!" Hiccup said. He blushed and didn't look up. "It really hurts today." Toothless gave a very quiet growl and raised his head from his stone.

Stoick paused, then sat down on the chair beside Hiccup's bed. He placed a hand on the bed beside Hiccup's hand. "All right, son. Rest up today. I know they'll all understand; it's not like they haven't had a bad day every now and then."

Hiccup smiled but gasped in pain as his leg gave him another spike. His father leaned down and kissed his forehead.

Chapter Text

Dreams of soaring through clouds with Hiccup’s laughter in his ears changed abruptly to painful reality. He yelped; he must have been moving his tail in his sleep in imitation of his dream-flight, but the stabbing pain woke him.

It was still dark out, and Hiccup was asleep across the room. Toothless whined as another streak of pain radiated down a fin that wasn't there. He knew it wasn't there. It hadn't been there for four years. But staring at the scar where his fin had once been was not convincing his mind that it was gone.

Pain rippled again and he yelped, he couldn't hold it back. Hiccup mumbled in his sleep and shifted. He wouldn't mind being woken up, of course, but Toothless wanted him to sleep; he hadn't been getting enough of it lately. So Toothless clamped his mouth shut and whimpered through the throbbing pain of a broken, mangled fin.

A wave of agony caught him off-guard and he wailed, cutting it off quickly in case he woke Hiccup. Too late; Hiccup stirred and sat up, blinking blearily. All tiredness vanished when he saw Toothless's discomfort, however.

"Oh bud, are you okay?" He climbed out of bed, balancing on the end of it. Toothless whined and nodded towards his wretched tail.

Hiccup winced in sympathy. He always took off their prosthetics before they slept, unless it was a quick nap or if they had to be ready to fly. He hopped over to Toothless’s side and sat down with a grunt. Toothless hummed in contentment as his rider leaned back against him; Hiccup’s presence was such a comfort.

"Can I see your tail?" Hiccup asked.

Toothless whimpered; it always hurt at first, but Hiccup’s gentle touch helped his mind remember that there was no tail to hurt. He shifted his tail into Hiccup’s lap and squeezed his eyes shut.

"It's okay, bud," Hiccup murmured. He ran his fingers along the scarred part of the tail, pressing carefully on the flaming nerves. "I get it, I feel it sometimes too." He stroked the real half of the tail, tracing his fingers over its edge and down the side. "This'll help."

The pain was ebbing, slowly. Toothless’s muscles, tensed against the pain, relaxed uner Hiccup’s hands. He wanted to wail with relief but contented himself with a huffing sigh.

Hiccup smiled and placed a kiss on his dragon’s head. "Feel better? Tell you what, I'll stay down here with you."

Toothless grinned gummily; he always loved curling around Hiccup to sleep, it was so soothing to have his rider so near. Hiccup laughed at his silly face and crawled over to his bed to grab his blanket, then returned.

"Okay, okay, you big baby. Move over..." Toothless warbled happily as Hiccup got comfortable, then wrapped himself around his human and purred. "I'm sorry you were hurting, bud," Hiccup whispered. "Get some more sleep. I love you."

I love you too, Toothless purred.

Chapter Text

When he'd heard the number, he almost choked. It was exorbitant, surely on purpose. What could someone even do with that much gold?

Buy his freedom, apparently.

Now he was on the deck of one of Viggo's ships. The bruises and cuts the hunters had delighted in giving him made their various presences known as two hunters forced him down on his knees. That hurt too; he was sure both knees were bleeding.

He'd tried to fight before. When they'd entered the cell to drag him away, he'd fought like a cornered dragon. The first two hunters had given up, battered by his fists and prosthetic. The next two had been smarter about it.

One kept him busy while the other prepared the ropes, then they switched off. He was bowled off his feet and held to the floor like a sheep as they bound his legs, then flipped so they could bind his hands in front of him.

This had only impeded his fight, not stopped it. One of the hunters roared in pain as Hiccup's teeth closed on his arm. Hiccup had received a painful blow that made his head bounce on the floor. More rope had been forced between his teeth and tied off behind his head.

Skullcrusher landed on the deck in a circle of armed hunters. Above them, the rest of the dragons circled tightly. Toothless was being flown by Astrid and kept attempting to land, but she kept him in formation.

Stoick marched up to where Viggo was standing, between Hiccup and the landing point. Hiccup had rarely seen his father this enraged and was happy it wasn't being directed at him.

"You hurt my son," Stoick snarled. He could see the blood and bruises beginning to form on Hiccup's face, even from a dozen feet away.

"I cannot control my hunters and their right to self-defense," Viggo said coolly. "He fought."

"And I'm proud of it!" Stoick shouted. "Take your godsdamned gold, you bastard!" Behind him, a hunter was already untying a sack from Skullcrusher's saddle and toting it over to them. The Rumblehorn growled menacingly.

Viggo took the bag with a grunt and peered at its contents. He took a few coins, examined them, and smiled. "Thank you so much for doing business with me." He extended a hand.

Stoick bristled like an angry boar and seized Viggo's hand, clearly intending to rip it off, but--

"Ah," Viggo said, pointing to Hiccup's guards with his free hand. The men pulled Hiccup backwards and one drew his sword. "Just a handshake, Chief Stoick."

With an enormous amount of effort, Stoick dropped Viggo's hand. He made a big deal of wiping his own on his tunic, as if it were now soiled. "Give me my son."

The hunters waited for Viggo's little nod, then shoved Hiccup forward. He didn't throw his hands out fast enough and hit the deck on his chest with a grunt of pain.

Stoick knelt down and cut the ropes around Hiccup's wrists, then carefully, the one around his mouth.

"I do hope to see you again, Hiccup," Viggo said behind them. "Perhaps we can do some more business."

"Don't," Hiccup croaked as Stoick made to charge the hunter chief. "L-let's just go."

Chapter Text

"Hiccup?"

He jumped. He hadn't heard her enter his hut. "Oh. Astrid."

She closed the door behind her, returning the hut to semi-darkness at midday. "Want to tell me what that was about out there?"

"No." Toothless whined gently at the steel in Hiccup’s voice.

"Look, it may be Snotlout, but even he doesn't deserve to be yelled at like that," Astrid said, crossing her arms. "What's going on with you? If this is about the Dragon Eye--"

"It's not!" Hiccup snapped. His eyes were flashing in the dim light of the lantern before him on the desk. Astrid paused. Hiccup almost never shouted at her.

"Does it have anything else to do with that mission?" she asked after a moment.

Hiccup looked ready to yell, then deflated. He put his face on his arms.

"Viggo," he muttered, voice muffled. "When I was frozen, he--" he sniffed. "He was touching my chest. Said I was a fine catch." The words were dripping with disgust.

"So when Snotlout was teasing you about me..." Astrid said slowly, her stomach twisting.

"He said the same thing," Hiccup finished. "And I-- I just snapped. I didn't mean to." He raised his head again. Astrid’s heart ached; he looked so tired. "Don't tell the others, please. I'll apologize to Snotlout later."

"If you do that he'll know something’s up," Astrid said, trying to make a joke. "You never apologize to each other." He smiled weakly.

"I'll pretend not to see him skipping his patrols. I'll take it." He sighed and Astrid put a hand on his arm.

"You'll get over it," she said softly. "Don't worry."

"This is one recovery I'd rather not share with Fishlegs, " he said. "I just want to... forget about it."

Chapter Text

It wasn't fire caressing Hiccup's face, but it burned that way and he almost wished it was. Instead, it was a more-than-usually-deranged Dagur.

"I could almost believe you wanted to join us, brother," Dagur was saying, grinning down at him. "The boys tell me you were even easier to grab than usual! No Mister Night Fury around tonight?" He gripped Hiccup's chin. "That's fine with me!"

"Hurry it up, Dagur," Ryker growled. "We're on a schedule."

"Oh, no," Dagur said, crouching in front of Hiccup. "I want to savor this, Rykie. You don't get it."

"Don't touch me," Hiccup snapped. He tried to twist his head, but Dagur shifted to grab his throat and he froze.

"Remember what I said?" Dagur asked, and his voice had dropped. He was kneeling on the deck right in front of Hiccup, who'd sprawled upon being dumped on the wood unceremoniously. Dagur scooted forward, now between Hiccup's knees. "Every day for three years, brother." His grin was like a shark's. "Wanna know what I thought about?"

"No," Hiccup managed. The hand around his throat wasn't strangling, but he still felt like he couldn't get enough air. He couldn't tell if that was from the restriction or Dagur's proximity... or the way his smile widened.

"Too bad," Dagur whispered. "You're gonna find out." Panic turned Hiccup's mind into a high-pitched whining and he struggled; Dagur tightened his grip. He leaned forward but stopped when Ryker groaned behind him.

"Dear gods, Dagur, at least drag him into the hold or something!" the hunter snapped. "Don't take him like this, I don't want to see that!"

Hiccup's heart was beating in his ears, he couldn't move. Dagur sighed in exasperation and slouched. "Fiiiiiine. C'mon Hiccup, Rykie here is a such a buzzkill." He stood up and grabbed the ropes around Hiccup's torso.

Something greenish flashed in the moonlight, leaving a horrible smelly cloud behind it. The familiar stink of Zippleback gas cut through Hiccup's horror; wait... were Barf and Belch...?

The ship rocked with an explosion.

Chapter Text

Even though he'd dropped the metal, the burn seemed to get worse by the second. Cursing, Hiccup thrust his hand into the water trough next to the forge.

"Whoa, that's some language I didn't expect out o' you," Gobber said, sticking his head around the corner. "What happened?"

"Grabbed that," Hiccup panted, nodding at the half-finished sword now charring the floor. "Tongs slipped."

Gobber winced. "Nasty. Let me grab your chair." He stumped off to the workroom while Hiccup tried to ease the pain. Running water was better, he knew, but waving his hand through this would have to do.

Dammit. This was a bad one, he could tell. He hadn't quite trained himself out of the instinct of catching anything he dropped, and unfortunately this was going to be a very good lesson. He hissed as his hand brushed past a forgotten chunk of metal in the water.

It must have been a worse burn than he thought; the additional flash of pain from the tiny impact made his head swim. He clutched the side of the trough, trying to stay upright. Gods, this was awful!

"Here," Gobber said, reappearing with the chair. Hiccup collapsed gratefully into it. "Uh, Hiccup, you look terrible," Gobber said. "How many of your fingers did you burn off?" Hiccup tried to answer but nausea leapt up. He pressed a hand to his mouth and tried to breathe deeply. "I'm getting Gothi," Gobber said firmly. "Don't move!"

Can't move, Hiccup thought muzzily. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Chapter Text

"Tell the alchemist that this concentration appears to be effective," Viggo said to his hunter. "That is, once you can move again."

The man on the ground in front of him groaned; he'd been volunteered (by Ryker, who could bear a grudge better than anyone else Viggo knew) to test Viggo's latest innovation.

It was simple, really, once he'd caught that pack of Speed Stingers. If the alchemist diluted their venom, it produced a nice effect, very similar to that of one of the Triple Strike's venoms. Of course, the Triple Strike was much harder to track down, and he wanted a lot of this new concoction.

Only to shoot down dragons, of course. It would make them so much easier to control, if they went as limp as Ogmar there on the fine rug. Still conscious, but as limp as a petal. Perfect.

Well... shooting down dragons was its primary purpose. As demonstrated, its use on humans was also very effective. Very effective indeed.

Viggo indulged himself a vision of a particular dragon rider, dosed with this new solution, perhaps delivered by a little dart concealed in the hand during a handshake. He allowed his imagination to sketch out the details.

Panic in those green eyes. Breath coming fast, fingers twitching as the venom took hold... then falling still. The way he would try and talk his way out of it, at least at first. That could be endearing. And if it wasn't, a gag could easily be arranged. No need for any other restraints.

Viggo smiled. My gods, wouldn't that be ironic. Trapped by a dragon's venom, that which he sought to save damning him utterly. The image was delightful. And what on earth would he be doomed to? Those thoughts could wait until Viggo was alone.

Chapter Text

No matter how many times it happened (many, many times) Tuff never enjoyed breaking his bones. This time, it was his right forearm. He'd tried to deflect a hunter's strike with his bracers, remembering at the last second before the mace landed that he wore a cloth arm wrap. Well. Next time, he would definitely wear bracers.

Now, however, he was curled up on the ground and hissing through his teeth as the hunter laughed above him, mace raised for another strike.

A blast of magnesium fire engulfed the man and he howled. Tuffnut raised his head and watched him leap over the side of the ship as Stormfly landed.

"Tuff, you okay?!" Astrid asked, jumping off her dragon.

"Remind me to get Hiccup to make me some cast iron bracers," Tuffnut grunted. "Think he can make 'em look like dragon scales?"

"Probably," Astrid said. "Let's go, the dragons are out."

Sure enough, a few Gronkles and a Nightmare soared overhead. She leaned down and helped him stand. He cursed; he'd taken the hit on his strong arm. That would rule out so many fun activities for the next few weeks.

He groaned and hauled himself clumsily up onto Stormfly and looped his good arm around Astrid. Ruffnut, steering Barf and Belch solo, flew low over them. "You good, bro?" She shouted.

"Better believe it!" Tuffnut hollered back.

"How many bones do you have to break before it becomes not good?" Astrid asked.

Tuff grunted in pain as Stormfly’s take-off jostled his arm. "At least three."

Chapter Text

It hurt.

Of course it hurt.

It was supposed to, after all. Krogan was thorough about things like that. He’d seen to the arrangement himself. He’d hummed as he'd done it, which seemed to be crossing the line for Hiccup. There was evil, and then there was sadism.

He’d called it a 'stress position.'

Hiccup certainly felt stressed by it; his arms were bound behind him and another rope ran from them and over a beam in the ceiling. When Krogan pulled the rope, Hiccup’s arms felt like they were being torn from their sockets. Thankfully he'd tied the rope off now, but it was high enough to keep him in pain and on his toes. If he slouched, the rope pulled taut and his arms screamed.

Hiccup felt like screaming too. He was exhausted from fighting the Flyers, bruised and battered from his crash landing, and now couldn't lean against anything to rest. He had to stand, but not upright. If he did, the rope pulled again.

It was torture. The pain itself, but also the uncertainty. Krogan had tied the ropes and left. Toothless had fled at Hiccup's command when they crashed, but would he be able to go for help or take on the Flyers by himself? How long would Hiccup be kept here like this? How long could his body take it?

He lowered his head. He knew one answer, anyway: he'd be kept here as long as Krogan was enjoying his suffering. As for Toothless... he heard Singetails roaring outside and one familiar shriek. It sounded very outnumbered.

Chapter Text

She couldn't believe it. After all the danger, the plans, the sheer terror to reach this point, Heather had fled. Astrid had lost her again. Hiccup was sitting on a rock nearby, head in his hands, while the others picked themselves up and recovered from the Flightmare mist.

Astrid wanted to scream like Hiccup had, to release her frustration and anguish to the night, but she had to stay firm. "Let's go," she said, too harshly. "We're wings up in three. Back to the Edge by morning." Snotlout leveled an incredulous glare, but was met with her furious one and said nothing. Hiccup looked up, bleary-eyed, and nodded his confirmation of her order.

Stormfly was skittish as Astrid mounted up. She was always in tune with her rider, and could easily sense the rage and pain washing off her. The ride home was silent on all sides, and as soon as they landed, Hiccup stormed off with a nervous Toothless in tow. Astrid felt just as surly; barely managing to get Stormfly seen to before marching away on her own.

Hoffersons were tough. Mean. Aggressive. And, most importantly, not criers.

Well, give her a stupid helmet and call her a Jorgenson.

She couldn't stop the tears once she was alone. The door had barely slid shut before she was sliding down it, a hand clamped over her mouth and sobs rising in her chest. Oh, it felt so stupid to be upset like this. What had she expected? That Heather, notorious and proud of her independence, would come back so that Astrid wouldn't have to say goodbye again?

The moment kept replaying in her mind. The Flightmare, angry and confused, attacking the riders, and then Windshear appearing like molten silver in the moonlight. Astrid had whooped in relief and joy to see Heather, a little shaken, but alive. The fight and redirection of the rogue dragon was quick, and Astrid flew in close to her friend.

"Heather!" she'd called. "Thank Thor, we were so worried! I was so worried."

"I'm okay," Heather said, smiling. Astrid did not like that smile. It was melancholy, and she had a horrible premonition about the immediate future.

Feeling compelled, she'd said "Don't go running off yet, we should talk to Hiccup!"

That melancholy smile again. "Right behind you."

And when Astrid had landed beside Hiccup, the air behind her was emptier than the pit in her stomach.

Chapter Text

It felt like the time he'd breathed in too much Zippleback gas and couldn't catch his breath. The same wool-headed feeling, shaky knees, roiling stomach, fuzzy vision, but this time he was pretty sure it wasn't dragon-related.

No, he suspected it had something to do with the cloth being shoved under his nose.

He'd been so paranoid about this all night, and the one moment he let his guard down, he was being dragged across the plaza while the stars spun dizzily. The two thugs were silent, professional, and very strong. Hiccup wanted to struggle, but whatever they'd forced him to inhale was hitting him like a speeding dragon.

Squeezing his eyes shut to stave off the nausea of watching the world spin, he tried to get his feet under him, but they felt like they were dissolving. His face, what he could feel of it, was drenched in sweat, and he felt sickened at the idea that his body was letting this happen. It was caving to whatever chemical was still being shoved almost up his nose, and he was completely powerless.

The men had him out of Berk and onto the docks in a few muzzy minutes. Hiccup could hear the creak of oars in a rowing boat, feel the wet chill of the bilges they'd dropped him into. His vision refused to cooperate even when he opened his eyes, and he gagged as the world lurched and spun. One man growled in disgust and kicked Hiccup's shoulder. Hiccup managed to keep his dinner down as the little rowboat left the harbor.

He groaned. Whatever was doing this to him, it had the heavy feeling of something that would linger. Was Astrid right? Should he have told his father about Viggo, the bounty, his narrow escapes? Stoick's voice, warped and modulated by the drug but still firm and furious, sounded in his mind.

The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

Chapter Text

It wasn't often that it all got to be too much for Ruffnut. Her tolerance to chaos would have frightened Loki himself. Tuff was right along with her for it all. Together, they were an unstoppable whirlwind of crazed laughter.

But when she'd been standing there on her own, terrified under a layer of scornful bravado and still buzzing with the adrenaline of standing up to the Grimborn brothers, hopelessness dragged at her heart. Bound securely to a pole, bait for her friends, her own powerlessness dooming them all.

She shouldn't have doubted her friends, or her twin. It was a fierce fight, and though Macey was lost, Tuff didn't seem to care as much as she expected him to.

They arrived back at the hut. Tuff deposited the remains of Macey in a bucket and sighed sadly. "Oh, Macey... too pure for this world." He turned to Ruffnut. "Hey sis. You feelin' okay?"

"Sure!" She tried to sound chipper, but her jaw clenched. He was too observant and caught the motion.

"Uh huh. Yeah, right." He shoved her into a seat and sat across from her, their knees touching. "You suck at lying."

She tried to hold it together... but the mask shattered. Sobs rose in her throat and she leaned forward to press her forehead against her twin's. He gripped her shoulders in mute encouragement to let it out.

"It was my fault," she managed, swiping tears off her face. "Th-they almost got us all."

"Nah," he muttered. "My fault. I was bring stupid about Macey. Should've just let her go." Ruff leaned back and gaped at Tuff.

"Okay, you got hit in the head," she said.

"You're more important than Macey."

"Whoa, bro." She managed a watery smile. "You must be growing up after all."

He grinned. "Guess so. Wanna help me give Macey a proper send-off?"

"I'll get the bow. Will Hiccup let us borrow some Nightmare Gel?"

"Probably not. Better go steal some."

"That's the bro I know."

Chapter Text

Smothering Smokebreaths, smuggled in with the scrap metal. A good ruse! An excellent, foolproof scheme.

But it didn't work. Hiccup, damn him, had caught on and outsmarted the stupid dragons. That wasn't hard, to be fair. The little bastards only thought about shiny things.

Speed Stingers, however... Dagur smiled. Those things weren't much smarter, but what they lacked in brains they made up for in viciousness. The snarling and screeching from the cage was a good sign. When released on Berk, they'd take out that aggression on anyone in their way.

Hiccup wouldn't know what hit him.

Or stabbed him with its tail, in this case. Oh, he'd pay for stealing that... uh, cylinder thingy. But of course, that was only half the reason. Three years in an Outcast prison gave the mind a lot of time to focus an obsession into something more. Dagur thought idly of the way a curved bit of glass could concentrate the sun's light into a flame...

"Berk ahoy, sir," a Berserker said, saluting.

"Good," Dagur replied, shaking off his thoughts. "Release the Stingers when we make landfall, then pull back to the harbor so they can't get us."

"Yes, sir."

It was laughably easy. Did Berk really set no night watch anymore? The Stingers flowed over the island like ants. Dagur gave it an hour; a very quiet hour. He shook his head. Was no one going to sound an alarm? Seriously? Pathetic.

He and the Berserkers landed at the dock again. The Stingers, recognizing the ones who'd caught them in the first place, scattered. Throughout the town, Vikings and dragons alike lay in positions of panic. In a livestock pen, four Stingers were tearing into a sheep which had frozen with all legs in the air.

Dagur couldn't contain his laughter as they made their way up through the village. It was too comical! A village full of dragon-lovers, and they'd all been taken down by them!

The house he'd been looking for loomed ahead. Outside, a dragon was frozen in the act of rearing up in defense. The black scales glittered in the moonlight, green eyes glowing with halted rage. And behind the beast...

Ah, there he was. Caught in the act of scrambling backwards along the ground, one hand raised pointlessly, face panicked, mouth slightly open. Dagur had gotten a decent look at him when they'd spoken on the shipwreck, but he relished the opportunity to get closer.

"Hello, brother," Dagur said in a low voice, leaning down to speak in Hiccup's ear. "Like my little gift? I know you love dragons, so I brought you some." He laughed at his own joke, then reached down. Hiccup's skin was clammy under his own hot hands.

It was so strange, the way the body didn't move at all when full of Stinger venom. Dagur had felt it himself, having been too clumsy when catching these Stingers. The muscles screamed against the unnatural strain, and soreness and cramps were sure to follow.

Well, he'd be happy to massage any sore muscles Hiccup had after this. It was awkward to heft him into his arms, frozen at this odd angle, but after a bit of shifting, he had Hiccup slung over a shoulder.

"Let's go!" he shouted to his men. "Got what we came for!"

"Sir, what about the, uh, round thing?" one Berserker asked, confused.

Dagur patted the back of Hiccup's thighs. "Don't know. Don't care. Not as important as this." He smiled nastily and the man grinned back.

Oh, Hiccup, Dagur thought as they strolled back down to the docks. You can hear and feel all of this, I know it. How does it feel, brother? Are you scared?

You should be.

Chapter Text

This feeling, he concluded, was a bad one.

His stomach was twisted into knots. His hands were shaky. He wanted to yell, but he didn't dare. An angry scream would certainly not help the situation; it would almost certainly make it worse.

He debated for a moment on whether to reach out, then decided to do it. His hand had barely landed on Heather's shoulder when Astrid grabbed his wrist. She was squeezing hard enough that Dagur knew he'd bruise.

"Don't. Touch. Her," she growled. Heather had flinched away from Dagur's gentle touch and was cowering against the wall, her breathing panicked. "What did you DO to her?!"

"Nothing!" Dagur snapped. "I just wanted to talk and--"

"Liar," Astrid hissed. She shoved him back. "You just can't leave her alone, can you? Hasn't she been through enough because of you? Haven't you done enough?"

Dagur opened his mouth to defend himself, but the words died on his tongue. She was right. It was his fault, all of it. He'd gotten her caught by Viggo and his men, he'd put her in that cage. He'd razed her village to the ground. He'd set her adrift as an infant.

And now, right when he'd tried to make amends, he was denied. Did he deserve to explain himself? Was he worthy of her forgiveness? Why should he expect her to listen to him now? It was all his fault.

He closed his eyes and turned away. It wasn't resentment eating him from the inside. It wasn't rage, it wasn't mania, it wasn't fury.

Guilt. An emotion he wasn't too acquainted with. Nevertheless, he was dreadfully certain that guilt would never be far from him for the rest of his days.

Chapter Text

"Give it back!" Hiccup snapped. He was clinging to the tree beside him, trying not to fall over.

"I'm just looking," Dagur said. "Ha, it looks so stupid. Did that old idiot Goober make it for you?"

"His name's Gobber," Hiccup growled. Dagur was the last person in the archipelago he wanted to meet at night on Dragon Island, but the gods seemed to be having a little fun at his expense. Dagur was too.

"Goober, Gobber, whatever," he said. He raised Hiccup's leg again and turned it around, examining it. "What's it made of?"

"Metal," Hiccup replied shortly. He wasn't about to tell Dagur what Gronckle iron was.

When he'd stumbled into the clearing, he hadn't known what to expect. Logically, he knew that keeping Dagur in a good mood was the only way to get himself out unscathed, but Dagur had knocked him down and pulled his prosthetic off to get a closer look.

"Weird," Dagur muttered. "It's lighter than I thought."

"Maybe you're just that strong," Hiccup said. Thankfully, the sarcasm went over Dagur's pointy-helmed head.

"Aw, thanks!" he said, grinning. He reached out and grabbed Hiccup by the back of his vest and shirt and plunked him down on the log in front of the fire. "Here, you can have it back."

Hiccup snatched the leg back and examined it quickly for damage before reattaching it. Dagur watched, and sighed deeply when Hiccup was done.

"You ever had nights like this, Hiccup?" he asked. He leaned back and gazed up at the stars as they mingled with the sparks rising from the fire. "It's full of opportunity. I can feel it. Can't you?"

"Opportunities for what?" Hiccup asked warily. There were answers to that question which he did not want to consider.

"I want to catch that Night Fury," Dagur said. "Obviously. But we... you and I..." he clasped Hiccup's wrist. "We should seal our bond as Brothers of the Hunt."

"Oooo-kay," Hiccup said, subtly trying to free his arm from a hand which could easily snap it. "Uh, and what exactly would that entail?" He jumped a mile when Dagur pulled out a huge knife.

"Glad you asked!" Dagur said, a chipper grin turning manic by firelight on his face. "We cut our palms, mix the blood, burn some to the gods, and drink it!"

Hiccup stared at him. Saying no would probably result in that knife making close acquaintance with his stomach and intestines. "C-can I think about it?" he asked.

Dagur gave his maniacal laugh and crushed Hiccup into a one-armed hug (thankfully with the knife out of the way). "You're so funny, Hiccup! Sure, think about it while we find that Night Fury! Think its skin'll make a nice cloak?"

Chapter Text

Knowing how to swim was as natural as walking to most Berkians. The freezing temperatures of the seas meant that keeping your head above water for as long as possible wasn't easy, and at least one Viking drowned every year. It was a nasty fact, and parents taught their children to swim as soon as they could.

Tuff considered himself a decently strong swimmer; in the summers before Toothless and the other dragons had entered their lives, he and the other teens (except for Hiccup) often swam together in Berk's lakes and rivers. He wasn't the fastest (Astrid) or the strongest (Fishlegs), but he could at least hold his own if he fell off a fishing boat.

However, toss an angry dragon in the mix and you have a different story.

Scauldrons were bothering the Straits of Baldr again. Hiccup ordered them on a mission to relocate, so the riders mounted up with him. Three juvenile and one adult were circling lazily in the strait, spitting unheated water at each other and splashing with their wings. It was almost cute, except for the fact that ships needed to pass through there.

"Ruff, Tuff," Hiccup called. "Take the adult! Keep it busy while we drive off the juveniles!"

"On it!" Ruffnut called.

"Do you think 'keep it busy' means an explosion?" Tuffnut asked.

"Probably not."

"Ugh, fine." They reached the Scauldron and created a small explosion in the air, just to get its attention. It worked; the dragon swung its head around and glared at the Zippleback and its humans.

"Hey, big, wet, and steamy!" Ruff called, then snickered. "Come on, chase us!"

"Nyeh nyeh," Tuff taunted, sliding around to hang upside down from his dragon's neck. "Can't get us, you--"

The blast of water, while not superheated, still hurt as it caught him full in the chest and knocked him loose. He managed to suck in a breath before hitting the surface of the water and sinking. Above him, Barf and Belch were trying to fly away in panic but Ruff was keeping them close.

The Scauldron wasn't finished with him. It dove for him and caught his boot in its mouth, thankfully catching the leather and not his flesh in its venomous fangs. Briefly and unhelpfully, he remembered Fishlegs saying that Scauldrons could hold their breath for an hour. How long could Tuffnuts hold their breath?

The Scauldron pointed itself down and began swimming determinedly for the deeps. Tuff panicked; his chest was already painfully tight and the teeth in his boot weren't getting any looser. Barf and Belch were getting farther away by the second, the light from the sun was dwindling, his frantic twists and kicks were doing nothing but irritating the Scauldron more, and he couldn't breathe!

His mind was racing. He couldn't open his mouth, couldn't release the precious bit of air he had. His eyes stung in the salt water. The dragon under him whipped its head to the side and he yelled involuntarily. Air billowed out of his mouth and he couldn't stop himself from gasping in a mouthful of water.

Throat burning, lungs burning, Tuff felt the fight leaving his body. Was the water getting darker or was it just his vision? Both, probably. He'd be dragged down to the pitch black sea floor and eaten up by a Scauldron. What a way to go, considering how many brushes with death he considered a fun pastime.

Something strange and purple-white flew past him and hit the Scauldron. Tuff felt the teeth release him, but he could barely move, let alone fight to the surface...

Toothless appeared out of the growing darkness and Hiccup, squinting through the salt water, grabbed Tuffnut around the middle as they passed on the way back to the surface.

Air, beautiful, painful, live-giving air, surrounded him. He flailed in Hiccup's arms as they made a bee-line for a sea-stack. "Hold on, Tuff!" Hiccup cried when they landed. "Cough it up!"

Tuffnut tried, but he couldn't draw breath to cough with. Fists pounded his his back and suddenly the water burst forth, making him heave and hack. He tried to gulp air which made him cough. The hands on his back were rubbing in frantic circles, and Tuff could distantly hear Hiccup muttering to himself, "Oh, gods, too close. Too godsdamned close."

The others had converged by the time Tuffnut could breathe again. He was sitting, legs sprawled in front of him, staring at nothing as adrenaline pumped through his system. He could feel Ruffnut holding his hand, but he didn't think he could string any words together yet.

A hand appeared on his shoulder and he looked up.

"You gonna be okay?" Hiccup asked, concern in every line of his face.

Tuff nodded.

Chapter Text

He was still trying to get his breath back. It wasn't a fun experience: a Scauldron doing its best to drag you to your watery grave wasn't something you could just walk off. He doubted his legs would support him anyway.

"Bro," Ruffnut said, squeezing his hand. "You sure you're okay?"

Tuffnut nodded. He tried to grin and reassure her, but the water still in his throat made him hack suddenly and curl in on himself.

"Hookfang, get over here!" Hiccup called. "He's drenched!"

"So're you," Tuff croaked.

"Doesn't matter." Hiccup shook his head and spattered water over the twins. "Agh, sorry. I'll be fine. Tuff, if you don't warm up you'll go into shock."

"Whoa, you okay?" Snotlout asked, approaching them with Hookfang, who crouched down and mantled his wings over Hiccup and the twins. Fire rippled over his wings and steam began rising from their wet clothes.

"M'fine," Tuffnut said. He coughed again and groaned.

"No you're not," Ruffnut snapped. "Fishlegs! Get over here!"

"Did the Scauldron bite your leg?" Fishlegs asked, hurrying up to them with his medical supplies. "I think i can get the venom out, if it did..."

"The Scauldrons are leaving," Astrid reported from Stormfly's back. "Should be fine for the ships now."

"Great," Tuffnut grumbled. "We can---" He stopped as Hiccup pushed him back down at the same time as Ruffnut grabbed his arms and yanked.

"We're not going anywhere til you're fit to fly," Fishlegs said sternly. "Off with the boot, I want to double-check the bite. And almost drowning puts a lot of stress on your body; shock is nasty."

"It's okay, bro," Ruff said. "We're staying put."

Tuff hesitated, looking around at his friends and considering whether to jump up and claim he was fine, that there was nothing to worry about...

He slouched and put his head on his twin's shoulder. "Thanks, guys."

Hiccup smiled. "What are friends for?"

Chapter Text

"Get out of here as soon as they let you," Hiccup whispered. "Don't stay."

"We can't leave you," Astrid hissed back. "What, you think we'll let you just give yourself up like that?!"

The Outcasts had caught the twins, then Astrid, then Fishlegs and Snotlout. Hiccup had come to negotiate... or so Astrid had thought.

"It's the only way," Hiccup replied. "Trust me, Astrid, please. It's me they want, so if I give them what they want, they'll let you and the others go."

The Outcast supervising their brief talk was starting to get suspicious. Astrid pulled Hiccup in close and whispered in his ear. "We're going to come back for you. No point in trying to stop us."

Hiccup chuckled, and she could hear the nervous edge to it. "Yeah, I kinda thought so."

"Oi!" Alvin shouted from across the craggy clearing. "Finish yer socializing and come talk terms!"

Hiccup broke their embrace and gave her a smile. It was confident on the surface, but barely concealed fear flickered underneath. "I'll be fine. He doesn't want to kill me."

"I hope you're right," Astrid said. She hesitated, then leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "We'll get your dad and be back as soon as we can."

"Thanks," he said. "Don't worry, Astrid. This is how I protect you guys. It's what a good chief does." He turned away and marched across the clearing. "Terms, Alvin? Simple: let my friends go and you have me."

Astrid could see Alvin's eyes light up clear across the clearing.

Chapter Text

If the gods themselves parted the clouds and gave Snotlout one wish, he would take the word "weak" and make it vanish forever.

Oh, sure, there were other things his father called him, (pathetic, lazy, etc) but weak was top of the list. It started the day ("Sleep is for the weak, boyo!") and ended it ("Train hard tomorrow so you can finally stop being the weak link!"). Once he noticed it, it was impossible to un-hear.

He gritted his teeth as a hand slapped his shoulder. "Snotlout! Need your help, boyo! Ha, if you're not feeling too weak after yesterday." He'd fought off an Outcast singlehandedly yesterday.

"Sure, dad!" He said, forcing a grin. "Whaddya need?"

"Stoick wants a new stable built," Spitelout said, rolling his eyes. "For yer dragons. Probably his little boy's idea!" He laughed. "Great Thor, can ye believe it? That little weakling, with a Night Fury?"

Snotlout’s stomach twisted. True, he and his cousin were on slightly better terms these days, now that Snotlout was no longer shoving him every time they passed each other. But the temptation to play along was overwhelming.

"Ha, yeah," he said, self-respect falling rapidly. "What a weakling!"

"Still, glad he's around," Spitelout conceded. He elbowed Snotlout in the ribs like he was about to make a great joke. "If he wasn't, it'd be MY son who's the village laughingstock!" He roared with laughter and Snotlout clenched his fists.

You know what, Dad? You can shut up! He's twice the Viking you are and the only weak one I see here is YOU! Talk about my cousin and friend that way again, and you'll regret it, I mean it!

The words stuck to the inside of his ribcage, unsaid.

"Come on," Spitelout said, getting his mirth under control. "Let's go build that damn stable. Hopefully it won't take all week."

Chapter Text

It wasn't like he hadn't gone without food sometimes. Before the dragons were on their side and helping to hunt and gather food, the lean winters on Berk were brutal. Hunger pangs were a common event among the youth who weren't able to bully or bargain their way into enough food.

Their first winter on the Edge had been a bit short, but they'd pulled through with nothing worse than some grumpy evenings. They'd needed more food than they'd thought after accounting for wild dragon thievery, something they'd forgotten about in the last three years.

Now, however, the situation was far more dire.

Three days ago, he'd heard the hunter base above him undergo some sort of attack. Screams, explosions that shook his underground cell, dragon screeching. He'd hoped it had been a rescue, but as the minutes stretched into hours, he was forced to accept that dragons had attacked, yes: they'd just been riderless ones. He was still lost.

Despair didn't come easily to the relentlessly optimistic, but it was filling the pitch black cell like Zippleback gas. No food. Dwindling water, plus whatever dripped from the stone ceiling. Door heavily barred. Smell of dead bodies wafting in here and there. Did the others know where he was? They couldn't, or else he'd be out already.

A pain shot through his stomach and Tuffnut groaned. It wasn't much compared to some of his more impressive injuries, but what it implied hurt more than most.

Gruesome stories to frighten Berkian children filled his mind; tales of condemned men left to starve tied to the mast of drifting ships, warnings of children who wandered off in the snow and were found at the thawing with all their ribs standing our against their frozen skin, whole villages lost after bad harvests or raids from enemy tribes. Starvation was a terrible death.

Tuffnut was just wondering idly if he would survive eating his own leg; after all, he could just take one of Hiccup's spares... when he heard voices.

"By Thor, they got hit bad. That pack of Changewings didn't leave much behind..."

"I wish they'd left less. Gods, that smell never gets easier."

It... it had to be! Tuffnut forced himself upright, ignoring the bright whorls of color in the dark as he staggered to the door. He clenched his fists against a wall of unconsciousness that threatened him and yelled "Hiccup! Snotlout!" His voice was rough from lack of use and water.

"TUFF?!" Feet hurried to the door, fists pounded. "TUFF, ARE YOU OKAY?"

Pure relief was making his head swim worse than the hunger. "Ha, you get to hide next! I'll count to a hundred..."

"Tuff, get away from the door! Toothless, plasma blast!" The door cracked in the center and broke apart. Torchlight assaulted Tuffnut's eyes and he cried out, covering them quickly.

"Oh gods," Snotlout said, breaking away more of the door and stepping into the cell. "How long ago did they leave you in here?"

"Bodies look a few days old," Hiccup said.

"Three days," Tuffnut rasped. "Food? Please? Water?" Eyes still squeezed shut, he heard a canteen rattling and felt hands cradling his head and helping him drink.

"Easy, take it slow," Hiccup told him. "You'll only hurt yourself more if you go too fast."

"Food," Tuffnut said again. "Yak chops. Mutton gravy. Don't tell her but I'd even eat chicken right now. Little c chicken, not big C Chicken. Anything?"

"We didn't bring anything down here," Snotlout said. "We have food on the surface; Fishface can figure out how to give it to you correctly."

"How's Ruff?" Tuffnut asked.

"Beside herself," Hiccup said. "There was one survivor here. I, uh... heard a lot of screaming."

"Let's get you to the surface," Snotlout said. "Can you walk?"

"Nope!" Tuffnut said cheerfully, and fell right into their arms.

Chapter Text

It had been a trap from the start.

The carefully-worded letter begging for aid, the secluded meeting point, the dense tree cover. It was a perfectly constructed trap, and he'd led them right into it. Now he was standing with his hands raised to shoulder height, three swords mere inches from his chest.

Dagur shoved through his men and grinned crookedly at his 'brother.' He elbowed the one next to him. "Didn't I tell you? He's so predictable!" The other man grunted affirmation. Dagur rolled his eyes.

"What do you want, Dagur?" Hiccup snapped. He was angry, mostly at himself. Behind him, the others backed away from the encroaching Berserkers until the six of them had their backs pressed against each other. They'd been forced to leave the dragons behind to maintain secrecy, but now they were captured too. Hiccup could hear Stormfly’s muffled screeching.

"What I've always wanted," Dagur said. He pushed the swords aside and stood much too close to Hiccup. "Night Fury. Where is it?"

"He's not here," Hiccup said. It was true; by a stroke of insane luck, Toothless had been suffering a bout of phantom pain in his tail and had to stay on the Edge. Hiccup had flown in with Astrid.

"It's true," a Berserker grunted. "Didn't see the beast."

Dagur put a hand out and closed the distance between him and Hiccup. His fingers closed around the strap across Hiccup’s chest and brought him even closer, until Dagur could merely whisper and Hiccup could hear it. "If I can't have what I came here for, I guess I'll have to have something else."

Dagur's lips brushed Hiccup’s ear and he recoiled, glaring. Dagur merely grinned and put his other hand on Hiccup’s shoulder, forcing him to kneel. Hiccup leaned back, alarmed, as his head almost hit the Berserker chief belt buckle.

"Kiss my boot," Dagur sneered. "Go on."

"Gross," Tuffnut said. He wheezed as a Berserker punched him in the stomach.

"Don't need any commentary from your little friends," Dagur sang. "If you don’t want me to punch your pretty teeth out, kiss my boot." He proffered the grimy leather.

"No," Hiccup replied. He should have expected the blow to the head, but it sent him reeling anyway. Dagur kept him upright with a hand clenched in his hair.

"Wrong answer," he growled. "Try again."

Blinking the stars out of his vision, Hiccup tried to glare at Dagur but it turned into a pained hiss; he’d tightened his grip cruelly. "I'm not going to kiss your boot," Hiccup said, but it was hard to be intimidating in this position.

Dagur laughed. "You don't have a choice, brother! I have you and your gang surrounded, your flying lizards in cages, and you kneeling at my feet!" He leaned forward and whispered in Hiccup’s ear again. "You could be kneeling at my feet for another fun reason..."

Hiccup tried to pull back with a disgusted grunt. The hand in his hair kept him in place, but he knew he was out of options. Fighting wasn't going to happen. The others were pinned in behind him, crossbows and swords and axes poised to cut them down. Dagur was probably as bad as his word, and Hiccup had absolutely no desire to see (or kiss) any part of Dagur currently covered by clothing.

"Fine," he gritted out. "Let go of me."

Dagur did so.

Hiccup leaned back, making sure not to look up at Dagur. This was not an angle he wanted to remember. He fought off the urge to punch Dagur squarely in the crotch. The impulse, while tempting, would probably end with his throat cut. Daugr proffered the boot again and Hiccup clenched his jaw. Get it over with.

He pecked the leather, then tried to get to his feet, but a hand forced him back down. "No, no!" Dagur scolded. "Do it properly!"

Shame burned across Hiccup’s cheeks. The Berserkers were laughing. The riders were silent, but he could feel the anger radiating from them.

"Do it right," Dagur said quietly, "or I'll have to show you how to kiss."

Chapter Text

The scratch on her leg hadn't seemed too bad at first. The dragon had soon realized she was helping free it from the trap and fell still until she could cut the rest of the net away, but it had still left a gash in her thigh.

It had stopped bleeding, anyway. Biting on a stick, Astrid had cursed everything from one horizon to the other while she stitched up the wound. Stormfly stood guard and kept the little fire going with her flames. Astrid had then used the same needle and thread to sew up the corresponding gash in her leggings. The bloodstains were harder to explain away.

She landed back at the Edge later than the others. Their rescue missions had gone smoother than hers, with hardly more than a bruise or scrape.

When she touched down at the arena, Hiccup frowned at the sight of dried blood on her clothes. "Not mine," she called, indicating it. He grimaced.

Astrid, still on Stormfly’s back, headed back to her hut. The door had been made to admit a dragon, so Astrid barely had to duck her head as they entered. Stormfly cooed gently as her rider dismounted with a stifled grunt of pain.

"It's fine," Astrid told her dragon through clenched teeth. "It'll heal up soon."

Draconic facial expressions were difficult to read, but concern and exasperation were plain on the Nadder's scaly features.

"Astrid?" Hiccup knocked at the door. Astrid whispered a curse and tried to look nonchalant in her chair with her leg stretched out.

"Yeah?" She called back, forcing her voice to relax. "What's up?" Hiccup opened the door to speak with her. He looked a little concerned; she countered that with feigned detatchement.

"Uh, dinner at the clubhouse," he said. "Did you forget?"

Dammit.

"I'm just tired," she said. "I'll eat tomorrow."

"Oh. Okay," he said, sounding unconvinced. "I can bring you something..."

"That's okay," she said. "I'm fine."

"If you're sure." He shrugged. The door closed behind him and tears she’d been fiercely repressing stung Astrid’s eyes.

The wound was throbbing, aching, burning. She wished she'd kept the stick she's bitten on during her little operation; it was taking a lot of willpower not to scream in pain. The skin around the wound felt hot to the touch, too... a bad sign.

Well, too bad. She wasn't about to tell Hiccup she'd gotten hurt; just imagining his hand-wringing and panic made her fists clench... Or was that the agony? Hard to say. No, this wound would heal on its own. Even if she had to exert the sheer power of will over it, it would close and scar and go away and no one would have to know.

A ripple of pain made her groan. On the other hand... maybe a bit of medical attention would be a good idea. She'd ask Ruffnut to take a look at it tomorrow. The twins were pretty good about injuries, and she and Ruffnut had a bit of an understanding. After all, when they sparred, blood was sure to run.

The pain surged again and the groan was more like a yelp. Stormfly warbled in concern, and Astrid forced herself to grin.

"I'm--- hggh-- I'm okay, girl."

Chapter Text

The arrow hadn't been tipped with dragonroot, but then again, it didn't need to be.

Johann watched, smirk still playing about his lips, as Hiccup staggered forwards. He reached out and grabbed the rider by the shoulders.

"This is what happens if you cross me," he growled into Hiccup’s ear. "Go to Helheim, boy." He shoved Hiccup back to the ground.

"NO!!" Astrid had spun around in time to see Hiccup stagger, but now she could see him clutching at his chest on the ground. Blood was staining his tunic a darker red and spurting through his fingers. "No, no no NO!! HICCUP!!"

"It's too late!" Johann called. "It's too late for all of you!" He had to run to reach the safety of his men as all the riders descended in a cluster around their leader.

"Fishlegs, do something!" Snotlout shouted. Hiccup was staring up at the sky, eyes wide, teeth clenched, one hand clutched over the wound and the other reaching for his friends. Both hands were stained with blood.

Astrid grabbed Hiccup's trembling hand as Fishlegs fell to his knees. "I--," he said, then sobbed. "I don't think I can do anything!"

"Hey," Astrid whispered, taking Hiccup’s hand that she held and placing it on her own cheek. "Hey, it'll be okay. You're gonna be okay, Hiccup. Breathe, relax, we can fix this, just stay with me..."

"Nnh," Hiccup said. The strained wheeze emerged from between his teeth as he tried to speak. "Hggh."

"Shh," Astrid said as her eyes suddenly filled. "Don't worry. You're-- you're going... to... be okay..." The certainty which had barely entered her voice was leaving it.

"No!" Tuffnut yelled. He fell to his knees on Hiccup’s other side and supported his head. Ruffnut was standing over them, face pale and fists clenched, tears streaming down her face.

"It's okay," Astrid whispered. She put her free hand over Hiccup’s on his chest. The blood still pumping sluggishly through his fingers was hot, burning her, scorching her skin. "It's okay, Hiccup."

His eyes found hers. The vibrant green she knew and loved was hazy with agony, but the intelligence was still there. A silent plea passed between them, and Astrid nodded.

The breath he drew was shuddering, deep. Astrid had heard many deaths, but she hadn't ever heard anything she could describe as a death rattle. Now she had. His hand on her face tensed, nails digging into her cheek, but she didn't care. She could only watch as his eyes found the sky. A tear ran out of one as the hand on her face slackened. Something faded from those green eyes. They became... empty, like marbles.

His chest didn't rise under her hand. The blood had stopped flowing.

Astrid stood up. The tears she'd been holding back were flowing now, and the fire was rising in her chest. Her heart was consumed by it; her life had just been torn in two. If she wasn't taken down by the same archer who'd killed her betrothed, every hunter within a mile would lie dead at her feet. If Johann thought this would break them, he had never been as wrong about anything in his soon-to-be-extinguished life.

"Hiccup, HICCUP!" Fishlegs screamed. Astrid didn't need to turn to know that he'd scooped up Hiccup’s body and was embracing it, begging for life to return to his best friend.

"It's too late," Astrid said. Her voice, a calm so frigid it rivaled glaciers, was an uncanny echo of Johann's. "It's too late."

Chapter Text

"Look, I don't want to fight!" Hiccup cried. That was entirely true. Not least because he was unarmed, but also because the man advancing on him with sword drawn was at least twice his height and three times his weight.

"Don't care," the man growled. He tossed a dull sword at Hiccup. "Fight or die."

Probably more of an AND than an OR, Hiccup thought. He picked up the sword. It was spotted with rust and the leather wrapping the hilt was coming loose. It wouldn't have made much of a difference if it was razor-sharp and gleaming.

For once in his life, Hiccup was sorely disappointed that Dagur had left him alone to see to some task or other. He'd assigned this guard to get Hiccup to a cell after capturing him, but the man had other plans. And a grudge, evidently.

"What did I even do to you?" Hiccup asked. He reached out behind him to feel for the wall; it was closer than he'd expected.

"That Night Fury killed my brother," the man snarled. "And you tell it what to do."

Hiccup's heart plummeted. He knew, logically, that most people would not survive a direct hit from Toothless. That was easier to ignore in the heat of battle, but the fact still tormented him occasionally. Astrid, ever the warrior, tried to reason with him and remind him that these men had no qualms in trying to murder him, so he shouldn't afford them mercy.

It was much harder to confront the reality of it when the man in front of him was poised to extract revenge as immediately as possible.

"Why even give me a sword?" Hiccup asked. "It's not like I could beat you, right?" He backed up right into the wall as the man advanced, fast.

"I'm giving you the chance you didn't give my brother," the man said. He raised the sword and swung.

By some miracle, Hiccup got his own sword up in time to deflect, but the force of the impact sent pain radiating up his arm. He threw the sword (now notched significantly) aside and dove away from the swordsman, who was swinging back for another strike.

"Dagur doesn't want me hurt!" he cried. For whatever reason, Dagur was adamant about it. Hiccup had seen him attack his own men who'd tried to take down Toothless.

"Too bad!" his attacker shouted. The next swing whipped past Hiccup's face so closely he could've sworn it trimmed his bangs. "You're paying for my brother's murder!"

Hiccup ducked the backswing and rolled across the hall, but came up against the stone of the wall. He scrambled upright but the man was too fast.

With one hand, the swordsman caught hold of Hiccup's shoulder, and with the other he drove the sword into Hiccup's stomach.

He'd expected to scream in pain, but all that left his lips was a choked gasp. The impact of the blade drove the wind from him. Then, a split second that lasted a year later, the pain began.

Fire spread from his core. It was worse than getting struck by lightning, worse than the Red Death. The agony gripped him so tightly that he couldn't draw breath to scream.

The man dropped him to the floor and gripped the hilt of the sword. The slight jolt from his hand added enough pain that Hiccup managed a whine. The man above laughed.

"No monster to save you here," he said smugly. "I hope you meet my brother in Hel."

"Go see him yourself."

An arrow bloomed from the man's eye, point-first. He looked shocked, one hand going up to touch the arrow before he crumpled. Dagur stood where he had, one hand still holding the crossbow he'd just shot.

Hiccup decided that the blood loss and shock was making him see things. There was no other reason Dagur would fall to his knees and gather Hiccup into his arms. There was no other reason that would explain tears that weren't his falling on his face.

There was no other reason to explain why Dagur was sobbing.

It had to be shock.

Chapter Text

Dagur rolled over with a groan at the shaking of his shoulder; his sleep was bad enough as it was without people waking him up at all hours. "If that dragon kid Gusto is back, tell him we're not home--" he reeled as something hit him in the jaw.

In prison, he'd needed to react quickly if anyone came near him while he slept. After escaping and reforming, he'd gradually lost the habit. He regretted this as he tried to get his bearings. The person who'd hit him did so again, this time catching him across the ear and making it ring harshly. He grabbed their wrist as they pulled back and looked up into his sister's face.

"H-Heather? What--" he couldn't finish the question as she wrenched her arm back, pulling him out of bed to sprawl on the floor. Instead of the cedar planks of his home, he landed on rough-hewn stone. Very familiar rough-hewn stone.

Dagur looked up to see his sister standing, fists raised, in the prison hall of Outcast Island. He looked down to see his despised rags from those years clinging to his filthy frame. This was wrong. All of it was wrong. Everything was wrong. He didn't have a chance to think about it before a foot struck him in the chest.

Staggering, Dagur raised his hands. "Wait, what's going on?! I don't want to fight you!"

"Don't want to fight? What kind of Berserker are you?!"

The voice knocked more wind out of him than Heather's kick.

"... Dad?" Dagur could barely manage to get the word out. Heather stepped aside to reveal a man Dagur had last seen on a ship headed Thor knew where. The face he fought to remember was creased in anger and... disappointment.

Frantically, Dagur looked around at the prisoners who were watching the fight; all their faces were those of the boys his father wanted him to fight when he was young, just like this. Except this time, it was his sister who charged him and landed an elbow to his chest.

A nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. How could it be anything else? But could he wake from it on his own?

He had no time to think as Heather's hits kept coming. To his head, his abdomen, his legs, he keeled over when she got a kick between his legs. From the ground, he manage to look up into her face before another kick hit him in the ribs.

She was smiling. It was an eerie, wolfish smile that reminded him of Changewings, and her eyes reminded him of... well, himself. His own malice, sadism, and cruelty shone from her green eyes identically to his own, and though he knew he'd grown as a man, those old ways haunted him.

Now, though, he was more concerned with her attacks. He could curl up to avoid the worst of them, but she only hit harder. One made him shout with pain, and laughter rang out. He managed to peer out from behind his arms and saw Heather walking away from him.

The crowd around them was laughing at him, but also shouting to her, cheering. She was drinking it in, arms outstretched in satisfaction. The crowd cheered as she flexed her biceps for them.

Anger which he usually kept a tight leash on flared white-hot in Dagur's chest. Who did Heather think she was, attacking him and boasting to this mass of fools?

He shoved himself to his feet and ran towards her, intending to tackle her and show her what happened to those who humiliated him, but she stuck out one arm without looking and stopped him cold with a strike to the chest that left him wheezing. She was still brandishing the muscles of her other arm while he collapsed and tried to get his breath back.

"Heath--" he coughed and tried to push himself up again, but it had been like being hit with a battering ram. "Sis!"

She rounded on him and he cringed at that smile. It seemed to carry all the animosity she used to have for him combined with the pure disdain that he'd been subjected to for years... all on the face of the only family he had left.

He cringed as she reached down and grabbed him by the collar. It was as if she'd sapped all his strength to haul him up to eye level. She stared at him, that eerie smile still fixed in place, then leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"You're pathetic."

"NO!" He flailed and thrashed, arms trapped. It was pitch black. What was going on? His body hit the fine-smelling cedar planks of his bedroom.

A nightmare. Only a nightmare.

Chapter Text

"Tuff," Hiccup wheezed. "You okay?"

"No problems here," Tuffnut lied. The rocks were heavier than they looked and he was looking at quite a few of them. By some miracle, they were merely squeezing him, not crushing. There were still far too many to shift by hand, especially as he was covered to his chest.

Hiccup coughed and a few clicks echoed through the tight space. Inferno sprang into life and revealed the nasty situation to them. A slab of stone had disconnected from the low ceiling and enough rubble had fallen to provide just enough space for a human's lower half to be safe, if not unharmed.

"This is no problems, huh?" Hiccup asked. His face and hair were streaked with dust, and Tuff knew he must look about the same, if not worse. "Can you feel your legs?"

"Wish I couldn't," Tuffnut said. "They hurt." His usual jokes were failing him.

"It's a good first sign," Hiccup said. He ran a hand along the wall of the passage. "Looks like it's still open behind us... The others probably heard the cave-in." They'd been exploring the caves in the Edge's mountains.

"Probably," Tuffnut agreed. Hiccup was squinting along the passage, Inferno held behind him so it wouldn't dazzle his eyes.

"HEY!" Hiccup shouted into the darkness. "HEY, HELP US!"

Another few pebbles clattered from the gash in the ceiling and ran down the heap of rubble. Save for that and Hiccup's echoes fading, it was silent.

"Maybe say please," Tuff said. The pain was getting worse.

"I might have to go find someone," Hiccup said hesitantly. "Get the dragons to help get you out."

Panic, which Tuff had been bobbing above so far, boiled over. "NO!" He stretched his arms and grabbed desperately for Hiccup's leg. "No, don't leave me here!" The dust in the air was choking and the walls were closing in. He caught hold of Hiccup's boot and held on tight.

"Okay, okay!" Hiccup cried, shocked. He stepped closer as Tuffnut pulled at him. "Let go so I can sit down."

"No!" Tuff's nails were digging into his own palm as he clutched the strap on Hiccup's boot.

Hiccup managed to sit while still being grappled and transferred Tuffnut's vise-grip to his own hand. "Take it easy, it'll be okay." His voice was soothing, or as soothing as he could make it in this situation, but it wasn't helping.

"I'm gonna die here," Tuffnut panted. He knew on some level he must be hurting Hiccup's hand with how tightly he was squeezing, but the muscles under his fingers were strong from smith-work. That absolved him from feeling guilty so he could devote more mental energy to panicking.

"No, you're not!" Hiccup told him firmly. "Listen to me! The others know which way we went and I'm going to keep shouting! They'll find us and you're going to be okay, Tuff." He said it so convincingly that for a moment, Tuff calmed down. Then a twinge of pain shot up his leg.

"I'm going to die!" he repeated, and brought his other hand around to grab at Hiccup's arm. "Hiccup, I'm gonna die!" His chest ached with each breath, whether from the impact with the stones, the thick dust still in the air, or the sensation that iron bands were tightening around it. The dust in his mouth made it feel awful and chalky, and he choked on it.

Hiccup grabbed Tuff's wrist and pried his hand off his arm. "Please listen to me! Take a deep breath and try to calm down, I'm going to call for the others again and we need to listen, okay?"

Tuff fought against his rebelling nerves and caught a breath, even though it was dusty. Hiccup nodded and squeezed his hand.

"HEYY!" he yelled. "GUUYS! WE NEED HELP!"

The ringing silence after the echoes faded made Tuffnut want to be sick. At this angle, that would be a bad prospect, so his body settled for sobs. Tears cut tracks through the caked dust on his cheeks and his eyes stung worse than ever.

He wanted to stop, to calm down, to breathe, but he couldn't. All he could do was hang onto Hiccup's hand and sob as his friend tried to help. He couldn't hear the things Hiccup tried to soothe him with, he couldn't see the light of Inferno through his streaming eyes, he was almost entirely alone in a shrinking inkblot of agonized darkness.

A hand suddenly appeared across his mouth. "Wait! Tuff, hold on!"

The tone of Hiccup's voice got through to him, and Tuffnut gulped in a breath. In the beat of tense silence, a distant sound bounced off the passage's walls.

"...ooo? Helloooo?!"

"WE'RE DOWN HERE!" Hiccup shouted. He squeezed Tuff's hand and grinned wildly. "BRING MEATLUG! HURRY!" He lowered his head. "Thank Thor. How are you holding up?"

"Bad," Tuff admitted. "But I'll live."

"Told you," Hiccup said with a tired nod. Footsteps were echoing towards them. Tuffnut grinned back and blinked the last tears from his eyes.

Chapter Text

"And what did I say would happen if you disobeyed again?" The riding crop landed lightly on Hiccup's shoulder; he flinched anyway.

"I-I'd be punished."

"Mm?" The crop landed again, a little harder.

"Disciplined!"

"The right word is important, my dear." Viggo let the crop slide down his back, the leather ghosting over healing bruises and little cuts where it had previously broken the skin. "'Disciplined' is more precise for our purposes."

Certainly feels like punishment, Hiccup thought. While the whip-cracks had at first mingled pleasure and pain, he was starting to have the beginnings of misgivings about his current situation.

Not that those thoughts could do much; he was shirtless and had a pair of leather cuffs around his wrists. The silky rope connecting them passing through a ring set in the floor, forcing him to kneel.

He hissed as the crop hit the skin between his shoulders with a snap. He knew what was expected of him. "One."

Snap.

"Two." They weren't the hardest he'd felt at Viggo's hand, but they still stung on top of the older stripes.

Crack!

"Th-three!" That one had been harder.

Crack!

"Four!" Damn, that hurt!

Crack!

"F-five!" Hiccup screwed his eyes shut and bit the inside of his cheek in preparation for the next likely-harsh blow, but it didn't come. Instead, hands caressed his tense shoulders.

"Come now, relax," Viggo purred in his ear. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No," Hiccup mumbled.

"No, who?"

"No, sir." The misgivings were increasing as Viggo (Sir, as he insisted on being called) tilted Hiccup's head back to kiss along his neck. All right, the whipping had been a little harsh this time. But he was still certainly enjoying the kisses now being placed along his collarbones and the hand stroking his chest.

No, certainly this wasn't too bad. He'd disobeyed, anyway, and 'discipline' had been required. Maybe tomorrow, he'd mention that the whipping had been a bit much, but... his eyes fluttered shut as the hand delved under his waistband.

Tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Deep breaths, deep breaths. Panicking doesn't help. Hiccup pressed a hand over his mouth to try and muffle his frantic pants. The tinny music playing over the speakers was an uncanny backdrop to the horror show playing out on the stage of this convenience store.

"Oh, Hi-i-i-i-cup," the voice out of nightmares sang. "Where are ya? Come on out, please? I just wanna see you..." someone was hyperventilating on the other side of Hiccup's hiding place. Sobs mingled with their pants and Hiccup felt sick.

Why here, why now, why him?

The convenience store had been robbed before, but Hiccup had stayed calm under pressure. Handed the money over, called the cops once the thief left, waiting til he got home to break down. But this time...

He'd been stocking the shelves by the door to the back, putting endless packets of chips and nuts in their rows while daydreaming about going flying after his shift. Toothless was snoozing in his favorite park across the highway, waiting for Hiccup to clock out.

He was recalling their latest trick-shot when the door banged open, its little bell swinging wildly and falling to the floor. Probably just another person dashing to the bathroom after eating one of those month-old taquitos by the register, Hiccup thought, but he froze when a deafening CRACK filled the room.

An agonized shout made Hiccup's stomach clench; someone had been shot. There was an armed robber who wasn't afraid of the extra jailtime for attempted murder.

Who'd been shot? A customer? His coworker? He tried to remember who'd been on register... Tuffnut... But it didn't sound like Tuffnut's agony playing out on the other side of the candy shelves.

The door behind Hiccup was open. His locker was back there, with his phone. He could sneak out and call the cops, run for Toothless (though his boss probably wouldn't appreciate dragon-fire damage to the building). Making up his mind, he ducked into the storeroom.

Then the robber spoke. And Hiccup couldn't move.

"Hiccup! I know you're here!"

It had been three years since he heard that voice. Well, heard it while he'd been awake. He heard it plenty in his bad dreams.

"Oh, Hi-i-i-i-cup," Dagur called. "No use hiding, brother. I know you're on shift today! I came all this way to see you!" There was a smack from somewhere in the store. "Shut up, stop crying! I only shot you in the leg, you're fine. Ugh. Baby."

Hiccup tried to think, desperately tallying up days in his head. He'd had Dagur's prospective release date penciled in on his calendar, and this was a week early! He'd already dedicated that day to a special therapy appointment, but by the sound of what was happening out there, there would definitely be more special therapy appointments in his near future.

If he had a near future.

Dagur didn't want to kill him, did he? He'd tried to block out a lot of what had happened three years earlier, but he had the distinct impression that murder was not in Dagur's plans for him.

"Yoo-hoo!" Hiccup jumped a mile; the voice was closer now. Dagur walked almost silently, or maybe the blood rushing in Hiccup's ears blocked everything else. "Ooh, what's this? A back room?"

That gave Hiccup enough adrenaline to move. He scampered silently towards the lockers, trying to put as many pallets of snacks between him and the door as possible. When he reached his locker, the back room's door crashed open.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit. He somehow got the locker open on the first try and grabbed his phone as the sounds of a pallet being tipped over reached him. Low battery, of course. He'd forgotten to plug it in. 17%? That was enough. 9-1-1, press green button, try and remember if the door to the dumpsters was open. Ring... ring...

Hiccup's heart leapt when he heard "911, what's your emergency?"

"I-I work in the corner store on the highway," he whispered, praying that Dagur was distracted. "There's a guy with a gun, he shot someone and he's looking for me, please send help! I don't know where he--"

Something cold touched the back of his neck.

"Found you," Dagur whispered in his ear.

~To Be Continued~

Chapter Text

Hiccup couldn't summon the strength to hold onto his phone as Dagur took it from his hand and hung up. Immediately it began to ring again. Dagur snorted in annoyance and answered it.

The faint voice of the dispatcher tried to ask if Hiccup was okay, but Dagur shouted "SHUT UP! I'm trying to have a MOMENT with my BROTHER!" He hung up again and threw the phone against the concrete floor as hard as he could. Hiccup flinched; that screen protector was shattered.

Dagur smiled. It was the same crocodile-smile he'd had three years ago, but prison had roughened it around the edges. Someone had given him dark blue tattoos over one eye and someone else had scarred the right side of his face, but the manic eyes were the same.

"Hiccup," he said softly, almost tenderly. The gun was still resting on Hiccup’s neck but he moved it so he could pull Hiccup to his feet. "Oh, Hiccup. You've changed!" Dagur’s eyes ran all over him, taking in his newly-gangly frame, now as tall as Dagur himself. "And you've really grown into yourself."

Hiccup couldn't speak. It felt like his muscles were calcifying, rendering him immobile and helpless. Out in the store, someone was still whimpering in pain. The sound of it forced Hiccup’s voice out of hiding.

"Who did you shoot?" He was surprised to hear himself speak at all. He'd been expecting whimpers of his own, honestly.

Dagur shrugged. "Some rando customer. Doesn't matter." He stuck the gun down the back waistband of his jeans and seized Hiccup in a bone-crunching hug before he could flinch away. "All that matters is that we're together again!"

Hiccup wheezed at the embrace and when he could breathe again after Dagur set him down, he managed "A-aren't you out early?"

"Awww, you were keeping track?" Dagur asked. "That's so sweet. Nah, I'm out a little early! Ha, not for good behavior, I can tell you that." He gave his typical cackle which made Hiccup’s knees beg to buckle in terror. They almost did when Dagur put his hands on Hiccup’s shoulders. "I had to come and see you, Hiccup."

The serious note had returned to Dagur’s voice and that scared Hiccup almost more than the gun. He was gazing at Hiccup, something horribly like affection in his eyes. Hiccup wanted to look away but he didn't dare; would Dagur turn on him if he rejected him again?

The memory of three years ago rushed back. Dagur’s hands where they didn't belong, his lips already framed in stubble crushing against Hiccup's, the ferocious passion to his words and the rage when Hiccup struggled free and cried for help. Dagur had snapped. Hiccup had gotten a restraining order but that only made Dagur angrier. And then... he'd tried to attack Hiccup with a wild Whispering Death he'd half-trained, and that had finally been too far. But three years in prison hadn't been enough, apparently.

Hiccup squirmed as Dagur stared into his eyes. "Y-you didn’t have to come all this way on my account," he managed. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Dagur laughed. "Of course I did! I just had to see you. I know you missed me."

Of course I missed my crazy stalker who tried to kill me, Hiccup thought. Outside, Hiccup heard the crunch of wheels on the gravel of the back drive. He recognized it, of course; he spent his breaktimes listening for the sound of his manager Alvin returning from wherever it was he went during the day, and took it as a cue to scramble back to work as if he hadn’t been 25 minutes into his 15 minute break. Would Dagur recognize it as a car outside? Apparently not. He was still lost in Hiccup’s eyes.

A siren whooped out front and the soft look Dagur’s eyes vanished like a candle going out. "The cops! You called the fucking cops?!" Hiccup cried out in pain as Dagur backhanded him and let him crumple. "For fuck's sake, Hiccup. This is how you greet me?"

"You shot someone!" Hiccup cried, a hand to his stinging face. "I didn't know it was you!" That was a lie.

"Well, now the fucking cops are here," Dagur growled. He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Great. Just great." He reached down and seized Hiccup by the arm. "Get up. We're going out there."

A megaphone crackled into life outside the shop. "The building is surrounded. Throw the gun out and we can resolve this peacefully."

Dagur laughed. Hiccup cringed at the sound but had to move along to keep his arm from being wrenched out of its socket. Dagur kicked open the door to the back room.

Through the glass front wall, Hiccup counted four cop cars, all with cops hunched behind the doors, guns drawn. Entirely too many guns, in Hiccup’s opinion. The shop floor was empty; they must have evacuated everyone they could.

The injured man was still lying on the floor, clutching his leg to stem the blood leaking from his calf. A single paramedic was kneeling next to him, wrapping gauze around the wound.

Dagur raised the gun and aimed it at the paramedic. "Don't!" Hiccup shouted, trying to pull at Dagur’s arm.

"I want to, though" Dagur said cheerfully. The paramedic had raised her hands very slowly, not looking up.

"Just let them leave," Hiccup begged. "He's gonna die if you don't and she's just doing her job!"

Dagur seemed to think about it for a moment, a moment full of the man's terrified labored breathing, the flash of the police lights, and Hiccup's own pounding heart.

"Fine," Dagur said at last, but before Hiccup could sigh in relief, Dagur added "but you have to stay with me." The grip on his arm shifted lightning-quick to an arm around his waist, and the gun was now poking into his ribs.

"I'm going to put my hands down," the paramedic said carefully to Dagur. "I need to bring the stretcher in so I can get him to the ambulance."

"Fine," Dagur repeated. He stepped backwards, dragging Hiccup with him until they reached the counter, then stepped behind it. "Get out of here before I change my mind. Oh, and I did a pretty neat job to avoid the artery, right?"

The paramedic looks pained and said "Uh. I guess so. I'll be right back." She kept her hands up as she backed out of the shop, then ran to the ambulance to get the stretcher and her partner.

"We'll stay nice and cozy right here," Dagur said to Hiccup. The proximity was bringing back a torrent of uncomfortable memories and Hiccup was trying not to break down. His back was pressed to Dagur’s front and he could feel the muscle he must have put on in prison. He cringed as Dagur put his chin on Hiccup’s shoulder. "Ooh, I've missed you, brother. New cologne? It's nice."

The paramedic returned with her partner and wheeled the stretcher inside, lowering it to load the bleeding man on board. When she'd finished strapping him down, she turned to Hiccup and Dagur. "It's gonna be okay, kid," she said to Hiccup. "They're gonna get you out of here safe."

"Get the fuck out," Dagur spat. The door shut behind them and he sighed. "That's better. Just us again."

"We just want the hostage returned safely," a cop said over the speaker. "Talk to us."

Dagur raised the gun and fired through the window and over the cars. The glass shattering barely even registered to Hiccup as his ears rang from the gunshot. "I want a car!" Dagur bellowed out the new opening. "And a lot of money! $500,000! Don't track that shit, unmarked bills!"

After a moment of conversation, a cop said "We can get you that. One of our negotiators is gonna come in, unarmed, and give you the key. We'll take the kid back out with us--"

"NO!" Dagur roared. "Hiccup stays with ME!" Hiccup almost collapsed again. He felt sick; how the fuck was he supposed to get out of this?!

More hurried conversation, then "Okay, okay. Just don't hurt anyone else, okay?"

"No promises!" Dagur called back. The cops pulled back to start answering the demands. Dagur sighed. "That's better. Where do you wanna go, Hiccup? We could go to Vegas, that'd be fun!" He leaned forward and nibbled Hiccup's ear. "Ha, we could get married." Releasing Hiccup, he reached down and pulled a cardboard pack from under the counter. "We'll bring a few boxes of these, huh?" Hiccup blanched; Dagur had grabbed some condoms.

"C-can't we take it slow?" He managed, feeling his stomach churn. "I don't even know you now; the tattoos are new..."

"Like 'em?" Dagur asked. "Look at these ones." He stretched out his left arm and Hiccup saw his own name at the top of a list, just under a name struck through in red. "A little to-do list," Dagur told him. "You're my priority."

"Dagur, please," Hiccup said, abandoning caution. "Please, let me go."

"Nope," Dagur said cheerfully. "You're my get-out-of-jail-free card, Hiccup. If you walk out of here, I'm going back to prison! And I don't want to go back to prison." His grip on Hiccup tightened and the gun dug in harshly.

"We have a car," a cop called to them. "We're backing up." A blue Toyota rolled to a stop in front of the store and the cop driving got out.

"How about the money?" Dagur yelled.

"In the trunk," the cop replied.

"Ha!" Dagur grinned. "I don't really care about the money," he told Hiccup as they walked toward the door. His hand was gripping Hiccup’s so hard it felt like his fingers would fall off. "I have everything I want right here."

Chapter Text

"What godsdamned time 's it?" Snotlout grumbled. "Hey!" He yanked at the blanket that was slowly but surely being stolen from him. "Give't back, Tuff!" He didn't get a response and sat up, squinting angrily. "Wha--"

Tuffnut was shivering like the last leaf on a tree. The water streaming off him was freezing as it dripped, making sleety puddles on the floor. His lips were already blue. He flashed Snotlout a brittle grin as he tried to close frostbitten fingers around the blanket. "H-h-h-h-hi," he managed.

"Tuff, what the Hel is going on?!" Snotlout sat up and grabbed the other furs on the bed to toss over the shuddering figure by his feet.

"F-f-f-fell into the w-w-w-w-well," Tuff stammered. "T-t-t-told Hic-c-c-up the w-w-walls should b-b-be higher."

Snotlout hesitated and took a better look at his friend. "You. Fell in the well. In the middle of the night?"

"Y-y-y-yup." Tuffnut wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and didn't meet Snotlout's eyes.

When Tuff told him an outright lie, Snotlout thought, it was usually because he was ashamed or embarrassed about the circumstances surrounding it. Let's see, what could be the case here?

Had he set himself on fire and had to jump in the well to be extinguished? No; the twins bordered on gleeful when singed and sooty. A nightmare, maybe? But no, he probably would have asked Ruff to slap him sensible again.

Then what... Snotlout suddenly realized what it had been when Tuff scratched absentmindedly with his skin with numb and clumsy fingers.

Even with their apparent indestructibility, the twins had their fair share of scars. And not all physical. Ruffnut had once run to beg him for help in the middle of the night; Tuff was seeing things that weren't there. He'd had to snap him out of it.

"What was it this time?" Snotlout asked quietly.

Tuff still didn't meet his eyes. "B-b-b-bugs. All-l-l-l over m-m-me." He shuddered, only half because of the cold.

Snotlout sighed internally. They really had to have a better way to bring Tuff back to himself when this happened, but for now...

"Come up here," he said firmly. "You're gonna freeze, muttonhead. I'll warm you up." Tuff didn't need to be asked twice and scrambled up into the bed.

"Th-th-thanks," he said, burrowing in under the blankets and furs. Snotlout winced at the freezing water soaking him but wrapped his arms around Tuff and settled them both in. Tuff sighed and the shivering lessened.

"You're making me breakfast," Snotlout growled, but it was completely without ire.

Tuffnut snorted sleepily. "Hope you like salty fish."

"Aw, shush."

Chapter Text

"Hiccup, this really seems like a trap."

"Yeah, I figured."

Hiccup shifted uncomfortably on Stormfly's back. Grimmel's guards were surrounding him and Astrid, weapons sheathed but still ready to draw. Hiccup's hand brushed across his own sword-hilt as he dismounted.

"Ah, my young friend!" Grimmel pushed a few guards aside to step into the clearing between them. He spread his gaunt hands in welcome and grinned like a hungry wolf. "I see you did not come alone, as requested." He glanced at Stormfly. "And not with your Night Fury."

"He's not on the table," Hiccup snapped. "And if I'm coming to negotiate, I need my top advisor."

"We're a team," Astrid added firmly.

Grimmel rolled his eyes. "Ah yes, of course."

"Terms?" Hiccup prompted. "Let's not drag this out."

"Right, right." Grimmel grinned again. "I have very few desires in this world, my boy. You know what I want from you." He stalked closer and Hiccup felt Astrid reaching for her axe. "I want the last Night Fury."

"Never," Hiccup growled.

"If you give it to me, I will call my forces away from your village." Grimmel laughed. "That is, what is left of it."

Hiccup threw an arm out to hold Astrid back. "You're not getting Toothless," Hiccup said. "If you won't negotiate, then we have nothing else to say to each other." For emphasis, he drew and ignited his sword.

Grimmel shrugged. "Eh, as expected. Before you go, allow me to try and change your mind."

He moved like a snake, pulling something from behind his dragonskin cloak and seizing Hiccup by the armor. The thing was a crude collar with a purple vial protruding out of the side, and Hiccup shouted in pain as something jabbed into the side of his neck.

"Hiccup!" Astrid shouted, raising her axe. "What did you do to him?!"

"I do not negotiate," Grimmel hissed. "If you will not give it to me willingly, I will have it by any means!"

Hiccup fell to his knees, hands scrabbling at the collar. It stung and burned; his blood felt like it was turning to acid. He tried to jerk free. It felt like venom, sickening him and spreading through his veins.

"What did you do?" Astrid repeated. "Hiccup, what's happening?!"

"You might as well leave," Grimmel sneered. "He's mine now, and if you fly very fast, you might survive!"

Hiccup felt his limbs weakening. What did Grimmel mean, Hiccup was his? This collar... it looked like the ones his enslaved dragons wore. The virulent purple liquid must be the venom!

The conclusion came too late: he hit the ground and landed on his side, eyes staring unseeingly at Grimmel's feet.

"Hiccup!" Astrid's voice was distant, wobbly. His vision was running like wet paint. Laughter from the guards echoed in his ears and filled his head.

"Get up, boy." The voice rang like a bell. He had no idea why or how, but his body responded. Seemingly of their own accord, his arms pushed him off the ground. He knelt, then stood, facing Grimmel. He felt like a puppet with half his strings cut.

Astrid screamed something behind him and he felt something tugging at his shoulder; she was trying to pull him away.

"Throw her off," Grimmel said.

Hiccup did as he was told and felt her hit the floor. Was that a pained yelp? Everything but Grimmel's voice was so much meaningless noise.

"Face her and tell her to leave you." Grimmel let out a cackle, clasping his hands in evil glee.

His body turned and he saw Astrid half-sprawled on the floor, her axe a few feet away. She looked shattered and jumped to her feet. He could hardly feel her hands on his face as she tried to look into his eyes.

"Go away," Hiccup said. His voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well. "Go away, Astrid."

"You heard your chief," Grimmel crooned. "Leave us and tell Berk he is mine now! Bring me that Night Fury and I will consider giving him back."

Astrid searched Hiccup's face, looking for something, anything. Hiccup wished he could give her some sign, but his muscles wouldn't move.

"I'll be back for you," she whispered, and he saw tears in her eyes. "J-just hold on, okay?"

"Leave!" Grimmel roared. Stormfly screeched in alarm and readied her tail, but Grimmel stepped swiftly behind Hiccup. "Shoot at me, and you'll hit him. Now GO, and don't come back without that dragon!"

Hiccup could only watch as Astrid mounted up and took off. Inferno lay on the ground, forgotten and smoking.

Chapter Text

Hookfang never meant to seriously injure his rider. Not seriously! It was just how they played; a torching here, a nibble or chomp there, nothing that would hurt too bad in a week.

Snotlout tried to tell himself this as he stared, uncomprehending, at the blistered skin stretching up his arms. The pain had hit and nothing else was really getting through. It didn't make sense, it just didn't.

"Snotlout!" Hiccup had run as fast as he could to help, but his voice was so much meaningless noise against the roar of agony in Snotlout's ears. It didn't make sense. It couldn't be happening.

Hookfang had turned on him. He'd tried to reach out to comfort him and had barely avoided the torrent of flames sent his way. It hadn't been fast enough; a spark caught the thin coating of Nightmare gel that got all over everything Snotlout owned, including his skin.

His arms caught it the worse, bare as they were. He couldn't take his eyes off the smoking skin, even as someone (Hiccup again?) dragged him towards the well. He was aware of a high pitched keening. Was it his? It wasn't Hookfang's. He'd taken flight and vanished.

Water on the burns cleared the fog from his mind enough to let him look over to Hiccup. "Why?" he rasped. The keening had stopped; it must have been him.

Hiccup's face was set in horror. "I- I don't know. He's never done that before!" Snotlout lost consciousness as his cousin panicked at his side.

Stoick was shouting. Spitelout was shouting. Gobber was shouting at both of them. Mildew was shouting at all of them and nobody was listening to him. Gothi was finishing off the extensive bandages all up both of Snotlout's arms. Surprisingly, his hands had been spared the worst of the damage; most of the gel had been rubbed away or washed off.

Hiccup was sitting, whey-faced, in the corner next to Snotlout's bed as the adults shouted. Snotlout could half-follow the conversation; Spitelout and Mildew were raging against dragons, Gobber was trying to peacekeep, and Stoick was standing up for Hiccup and asserting his place as chief and final decision-maker.

Gothi shook her head as she put a few pots of salve and a bundle of fresh bandages by Snotlout's bedside. Her expression was one of resignation and anger. She probably knew that burns were going to become a frequent issue in the village.

"How are you feeling?" Hiccup asked, clearly trying to ignore the fight happening less than ten feet away.

"Hurts," Snotlout mumbled. It did hurt, but whatever Gothi had given him was dulling it and something she'd spread on the weeping burns had dulled it more. What really hurt was the aching agony in his chest.

Hookfang had hurt him. On purpose. And abandoned him. He was bereft of his dragon, and even though their bond didn't come close to Hiccup and Toothless's, the pain made him want to start wailing again. Even in his altered state, however, he knew he couldn't do that in front of his father.

"We're gonna find out what's going on," Hiccup promised. He caught himself before he pressed a reassuring hand to Snotlout's arm and opted for his knee instead. "Toothless and I are gonna find him and figure out why he left."

Before Snotlout could tell him to be careful, Hiccup slipped out past the furious adults and vanished outside. Soon after, sleep prompted by Gothi's medicines stole his mind from him.

Chapter Text

He was, of course, drunk. Never mind that the sun only went down five minutes ago, never mind that he was already infamous for his habit, never mind that Syldé hated it.

Spitelout bellowed "BOY!" And Snotlout winced. For once it wasn't him who was receiving the brunt of his father's fury; his older brother Spewlout had ruined the family's cart in the plaza and the village had found it highly amusing. Snotlout suspected his brother had done it to make the current object of his affections giggle. She had, and Spewlout only cared about that.

"BOY!" Spitelout repeated, and the roar was mere inches from Snotlout’s ear. A huge hand clamped onto the back of his neck and wrenched him around to face his swaying father. Panic flooded him like fire.

"Dad, what--!"

"Don't you play ssstupid with me, boyo!" Spitelout slurred viciously. Snotlout hated the second-hand stench of ale wafting into his face. "I saw you in the plaza, making a fool of the Jorgensssson name!"

"Dad, it wasn't me, it was--" Snotlout looked around frantically to point at his brother, but the rest of the family had melted away. Syldé was standing by the hearth, lips pressed tight and fists clenched in her apron.

"Lying again," Spitelout hissed. "Woman!" Syldé flinched. "Give me the switch!"

"Now, Spitelout, you've been drinking again," Syldé said gently. "I don't think you need to do anything rash until you're sober." Sometime next week, she didn't add.

"Shut up or I'll use it on you next!" Spitelout snarled. He would, too. He wouldn't get more than a few (unsteady) strokes in before Syldé picked up the glowing poker from the hearth, but he'd try.

The switch was a nasty little quirt that had left Snotlout with many a bruise and a few times a bleeding welt. He'd burned its predecessor and tasted Spitelout's belt for his trouble. Syldé handed it to Spitelout and didn't meet her youngest son's eyes.

It wasn't over quickly. Snotlout kept shouting that it wasn't his fault, it was Spewlout, he had the wrong son, but it was no use. His every protest seemed to make the switch fall harder. Eventually he clamped his mouth shut and took it until Spitelout got tired. That took less time with the ale, its only benefit. Snotlout staggered away from his father after the quirt fell from his hand.

Once Spitelout had drunk himself into a stupor, Snotlout stepped out into the village, fresh wounds stinging. He was going to find Spewlout (probably hiding somewhere to sneak some lovemaking from his 'friend') and beat him until the wounds he'd received on his brother's behalf didn't hurt anymore.

Chapter Text

The next blow hit her ribs and she couldn't even draw breath to cry out. It seemed endless. Relentless. Blows were raining down from every angle, feet, fists, elbows, knees, what else? She couldn't tell.

After what seemed like an hour, they slowed. People were talking. She recognized a few of the voices as safe, friend, and a few of them as bastard. The bastard that was standing over her kicked her leg and she groaned.

It wasn't what she wanted to do; she wanted to scream and snarl and roar and bite the legs off the men who'd hurt her. Who were they, again?

Oh, right. Dragon hunters. And why her? Ah. She recalled the stupid sticks, one shorter than the rest in Ryker's meaty hand. They'd all drawn them, Hiccup watching anxiously and cursing as his stick showed itself to be a long one. Ruffnut had drawn fourth. It had been short.

They'd wasted no time in dragging her out of the cell into the hall, surrounded by the cells that held her friends. They were shouting, terrified, Tuff had told Ryker to take him instead, but no hunters listened.

Now, lying curled on the floor with blood in her mouth and pain in every inch of her body, Ruffnut wondered why the hunters had done it. Was it just for fun? It seemed a 'Ryker' thing to do.

"Will you give us the Dragon Eye or do you want to draw again?" Ryker asked.

"I don't need to draw again," Hiccup said angrily. "I don't have the Dragon Eye! What, do you think I carry it with me? You searched our saddles when you shot us down!"

Ryker laughed. "No problem there: look outside!"

Ruffnut heard the others gasp in horror.

"We've known about your little hideaway for weeks," Ryker sneered. "And we're all going to go ashore and find the Dragon Eye, or else you'll be drawing again! Or would you rather I just keep going on her?" Ruffnut yelped as a foot hit her in the back.

"Leave her alone!" Hiccup shouted. "Hit me instead!"

"Or me!" Tuffnut added. "We're twins, it'd be almost the same!"

"Shut up!" Ryker snapped. "We'll be ashore in ten minutes. Make up your mind by then!" He stormed out, followed by his hunters. Once they'd gone, slamming the door, Hiccup groaned.

"They've known about the Edge for weeks?" he asked, and it sounded like he was dragging his hands down his face. "Weeks!? How have we not seen their reconnaissance?"

"He could be lying," Astrid said. "He probably is. They just want to rattle us."

"Did a whole lot more than that," Ruff croaked.

"You look terrible," Tuffnut said. There wasn't a hint of a joke in his voice, so Ruff knew she really did look at Death's door.

"I think all the bruises add to my natural charm," she managed. It was hard to breathe with aching ribs, but she smiled at the ceiling. From the taste of copper in her mouth, she knew that her smile would be blood red.

Chapter Text

Laughter wasn't a bad thing. He liked making people laugh. Laughter meant they weren't yelling at you. Laughter was safe. Why did it feel so bad now? Why did he want the laughter to stop?

It wasn't necessarily because they were laughing at him. People laughed at him more than they laughed with him or at something he'd done. So that wasn't what hurt.

Maybe it was because of who the laughers were. Krogan's Flyers, clustered around him. He couldn't see much of their faces through their identical helmets but the laughter was loud and clear.

It could also have been because of what he was doing to elicit those laughs. Hiccup was kneeling next to him, head bowed, face fiery red. Tuffnut knew he hated to be without his armor, especially hated to be without his tunic. They'd stripped him too, but he didn't care if his own body was on display, he never did. Hiccup, however, was hunched with his bound hands held to his chest.

"Go on, do it again!" a Flyer guffawed.

Hating the man, Tuffnut reached his own bound hands down and prodded Hiccup in the ribs. Hiccup's arms jerked compulsively, revealing his chest. The Flyers cackled.

"And if you think that's bad, get a load of this!" Tuffnut cried, turning his back to the Flyers. They roared with laughter again, holding each other's shoulders or putting hands on their knees to stay upright through the guffawing.

"Enough!" Krogan's voice cut the air like a whip-crack. That was a sound Tuff anticipated hearing more of. "Get back to your stations!"

Krogan marched through his men as they dispersed and smiled grimly down at his two prisoners. Hiccup glared back and Tuffnut gave him a goofy grin.

"What were my men enjoying so much?" Krogan asked.

"Berkian tattooing," Tuffnut answered promptly. "Check it out." He turned around and heard Krogan snort with laughter of his own. "Sick, right?"

"That's one word for it," Krogan said. "What's it supposed to be: a two-headed chicken?"

"A Zippleback," Tuff said indignantly. "But that's a good idea too!"

Krogan leaned closer. "What is on the 'Zippleback'? A deformed troll?"

"That's me and my twin," Tuffnut said proudly.

"Two deformed trolls," Krogan amended. He glanced at Hiccup, who was glaring at him. "And what does your leader have?"

"Ah, he's boring," Tuff said nonchalantly. "No tattoos for him."

Krogan shrugged. "No matter. In short order, both of you will have a lovely set of lashes to replace abysmal tattoos."

Tuffnut batted his eyes at their captor. "Already got some, Krogey."

"I shall personally see to it that you get more," Krogan snarled and swept off.

"Thanks," Hiccup muttered.

"Sorry," Tuffnut replied.

"It's fine." Hiccup was self-conscious of his physique, but also about the tattoo of Astrid's name over his heart. It wouldn't do to let Krogan know exactly who to hurt to break Hiccup.

"Tell you what; when we get out of here, I'll tattoo Toothless on you!"

"No."

"Come on, please?"

"I've seen your dragon-tattooing skills, Tuff."

"It's easier on someone else, when you can see."

Chapter Text

Hiccup sat up with a groan. He regretted it instantly; everything was spinning. He slumped back down and squeezed his eyes shut. He knew, logically, that his head wasn't about to explode, but he almost wished it would; maybe the pain would escape that way.

Toothless's gentle whine was like a sawblade across the brain. Hiccup flailed blindly until his hand met warm scale. Toothless always slept nearby. This was a comfort in times like this, and a mild annoyance when he was agitating for a flight before the sun was up.

Gods, why did it hurt so much? Hazy memories surfaced; the image of a hammer coming right at his head was enough t make him flinch (and regret it).

The experimental forge had exploded. He'd been trying to make a new style of smelter, one that could melt the ore much faster with dragon fire aid. Well, when Toothless had sent a controlled blast into the chamber, something had gone very wrong.

Later he'd tinker around and discover something like bricks that weren't totally dry and water flashing into steam, but for now the most he could do was lie in his bed and groan. Not even groan, he amended to himself. Groaning hurt.

The hammer hadn't actually hit him, thank Thor. He'd be nursing a few missing teeth and a crushed nose if it had. His hasty dodge had led to him slamming his head against the wall next to him and knocking himself out. It was a stupid thing to have done, but he couldn't exactly go back and dodge the other way this time.

"Hiccup, I've got that medicine," a voice called up from his doorway. The spike of noise made him want to bite through his tongue but he forced down the pain and nausea to answer FIshlegs.

"Come on up," he thought he said. His ears reported back that it was more of a "C'm'n 'p..." Toothless whined again and left Hiccup's side to meet Fishlegs coming up the stairs.

Fishlegs sighed in concern as he reached Hiccup's side. "You don't look so good."

Hiccup wanted to give his friend an incredulous look but couldn't manage it. He settled for a grimace. Fishlegs rustled in a bag and Hiccup heard the clink of pottery as he selected a bottle.

"Here. Concentrated willow-bark water, laced with the sap. Strongest thing I have that isn't poppy."

At this point, Hiccup would have happily chugged some poppy-milk to stop the feeling of spikes in his brain. He knew it was a bad idea, but he didn't care. If he could speak, he would have probably begged Fishlegs for it.

He'd had poppy-milk just once. When they were getting ready to cut off the mangled remains of his left foot and lower leg, Gothi had forced something sticky-sweet into his mouth and chased it with burning alcohol. Within minutes, he relaxed into a silver cloud and stopped screaming. The amputation had still hurt, but now he wasn't puncturing the eardrums of all involved in the operation.

In the weeks following the injury, he'd begged for something to dull the pain, but Gothi had refused to give him anything stronger than what Fishlegs was giving him now. Terrible things happen to those who fall in love with the poppy, she'd told him through her runes.

Hiccup was pulled from recollections by the bitter taste of the potion Fishlegs had made. He was well-acquainted with the taste of willow-bark but the sap was unfamiliar and nasty. He winced and Fishlegs provided him with water to wash away the flavor.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I know it's strong. I hope it helps soon." He let Hiccup lie back down and set the bottle of medicine on the workbench near his bed. "Can i help take your leg off?" Hiccup managed a weak thumbs-up. Fishlegs was very gentle as he undid the straps and set the prosthetic on the same bench. "Do you want to try and eat something?" Nausea made Hiccup's hand twitch up and cover his mouth. "I'll take that as a no. I'll check on you soon, okay?"

Fishlegs left as quietly as he could, Toothless seeing him out. The pain was as strong as ever, but even as he lay there and wished for death, it began to ebb. He tried not to focus on it in case he was just imagining the relief.

Sure enough, he could soon open his eyes without wanting to be sick. The hut kept out most of the light up here near his bed. Fishlegs, bless him, had closed the shutters downstairs too. The whole hut was like a cave. Toothless had no trouble seeing in the dark, and Hiccup certainly didn't want any more light than was strictly necessary.

He took a deep breath and pushed himself up to lean on his elbows. His head throbbed warningly for a moment, then sank back to its ache. Toothless gave him a worried look and Hiccup smiled tiredly at him.

"Gonna be okay, bud."

Chapter Text

It wasn't the first time his father had bellowed at him. Absolutely not. He'd grown up being bellowed at. But this time... it was different.

"How long did you think you could hide it from me?" Spitelout roared. His fist hit the clay pot next to him and it shattered.

Snotlout flinched hard and ducked as the shards flew around him. "I d-didn't mean to--!" The fist collided with the side of his head and he went sprawling. He hit the table and felt plates and cups fall as he jostled it.

"You didn't think I'd find out?" Spitelout hissed, leaning down and seizing his son by the jerkin. "You didn't think someone would come and tell me what FILTH you've been getting into?" He shoved Snotlout back. "I hear about everything to do with this family!" he shouted. "You can't breathe without me hearing about it, boy!"

"Stop," Snotlout begged, managing to get to his knees and raising a hand in defense. "Please!"

"Don't you beg me!" A blow knocked his hand aside and the next hit his chin hard enough to snap his head back. "You'll find no mercy from me, bastard!"

Snotlout cried out in pain as his head hit the edge of the table. He felt something hot drip down his neck as stars wheeled in his eyes, then his father's face entered his vision too.

"The whole town is going to hear about what you've been doing," he whispered. "You foul, dirty argr."

He sat up with a shout of alarm. Hookfang murmured in surprise as he was roused.

"Snotlout?" Tuffnut's groggy voice came from the heap of blankets next to him. "Whassup?"

"Nothing," Snotlout said shakily. "Nightmare. Forget it."

Tuffnut's arms emerged from the pile and reached for Snotlout. Despite himself and the shame-laden terror still flooding his body, Snotlout smiled and settled in his arms.

"Love you," the muffled voice said.

"Love you too," Snotlout replied, and fell into better dreams.

Chapter Text

The shouts behind her were diminishing, thank the gods. It had been a near thing, but the whirling snow (so common for a child of Berk) had completely disoriented the Outcasts.

It had been an unprecedented attack and Berk's populace was panicking. For good reason; the storm meant that the dragons couldn't attack from the air and the town had been unprepared. A feast had been happening, and by the time the luckless lookout had warned them, Outcasts were already marching up the path from the port.

Stoick had ordered the town to arm themselves and fight, but the riders were at a loss. Hiccup had Toothless with him regardless of the weather and hopped on to go fight from the ground, but the others had left their dragons in the pens!

The plaza had been a battlefield. Outcasts were meeting resistance from Berkians, thank the gods. Ruffnut scrambled across the space and escaped with nary a scratch, but turned when she heard someone following her.

Some-three, as it happened. The Outcasts had broken off and were giving chase, weapons drawn. Ruff cursed and sprinted as best she could up past Hiccup's house and into the nearby trees.

The snow wasn't as thick on the ground here. Good for losing pursuers following snowy footprints. She dodged further into the woods but the Outcasts were keeping up easily. She felt like she was slowing too; it was freezing and she hadn't grabbed her cloak before leaving the hall.

There was a clearing ahead. She ran into it and floundered in the deep snow, trying to stay afloat and upright. Snow filled her boots and came up to her thighs as she waded, the Outcasts shouting to one another in her wake.

"Go left!" One ordered his fellow. "Cut her off on the other side!" A crash behind her. "You idiot, your other left!" Another crash. "Not you, him!"

The distraction was perfect; she leapt from the snow to catch a low-hanging branch. Riding Barf and Belch made for excellent tree-climbing skills and she put them to full use. The Outcasts were at least smart enough to look straight up from where her tracks ended, so she scrambled sideways through the canopy to a tree that didn't overhang the clearing, farther away from the Outcasts.

"Get off me, where'd she go?" one shouted. She clamped her jaw shut to keep her teeth from chattering and giving her away.

"I'm not on you!" Came the reply. "You're on me!"

"You're both idiots," the third voice sneered. "It'll be you telling Alvin we lost one in the woods, mark my words!"

They spread out to search. The growing darkness hampered their efforts, as none of them had brought torches or lanterns. "She got away," one grumbled after a while. "She'll freeze to death anyway, we have to get back before Alvin sees we're gone!"

"Fine," the order-giver growled. "But it's your fault!"

They tramped off back towards the village, complaining all the way, and Ruffnut sighed in relief. The distant sounds of fighting hadn't stopped. Should she climb down and go back to fight? No, she'd get chased again. Berk was stronger than the Outcasts, even when taken by surprise. They'd beat them back before too long.

Except now it was an hour later, and the fight was still going on. If anything, it sounded like it had gotten closer. Ruffnut gritted her teeth and resigned herself to a night in the tree. Not any different than when she'd stayed in another tree overnight to win at All-Berk Hide and Seek Championships. Granted, that had been during the summer and she'd been smug about getting third place for a month afterwards.

Her hands hurt. Kind of. They were almost too cold to hurt, but when she moved them to make sure they hadn't frozen to the branch, they burned. Her feet, once soaked, now felt frozen solid. She was miserable and didn't see that changing any time soon.

Was that a word on the wind? A meaningless howl of syllables? Her own mind conspiring against her? It didn't matter. She twitched her fingers and winced.

Suddenly, the fire from her aching joints spread all over her. She was hot, she was roasting, she had to cool off. She had to get cold again or she'd die of heatstroke.

Leaping from the tree and ignoring how that made her legs scream, she dove into a snowbank and rolled around in it. Ah, the cold! It burned too; why, why?! It was like torture! She scooped up a handful of snow and smashed it to her face. No relief!

Another word on the wind. Uh... her name? "Ruffnuuuuut...!" Someone was calling her! But wait: was it an Outcast? She pressed herself to the trunk of the tree and held her breath.

"Ruffnuuuuuuuut!" The voice was closer.

"Smell her anywhere?" Another voice. Was it an Outcast too? There was no telling...

"There!" She yelped; they'd seen her! And there was no running away, the Outcasts had a Nadder with them!

"Ruffnut!" A skinny Outcast stumbled forward, arms outstretched. "We found you!"

That was... weird. An Outcast, happy to see her? And why did he look...

"Tuff?" Ruffnut croaked. Her lips were cracked and bleeding from the wind. "You're not an Outcast?"

"The cold must have got to her," the one with the Nadder said. Astrid (of course Ruffnut knew her name!) frowned in concern. "Come on, let's get you back to Berk."

Ruffnut's brain was thawing. Tuffnut threw a cloak over her and that helped. She still felt hot but she clutched the cloak instinctively. "Th-the Outcasts?" she asked.

"Sent running scared," Tuff said proudly. "You should've seen 'em!"

"Not right now, Tuff!" Astrid snapped. "You can see she's freezing to death!"

Stormfly (totally remembered that first try) crouched to help get Ruffnut on her back. Astrid climbed up in front of her and Tuffnut sat behind. It was still too stormy to fly so Stormfly tromped back to the village on foot.

The next thing Ruffnut knew, she was being bundled into her house and heard lots of people clamoring. Gothi’s withered hands were familiar, however. One clutched her chin, the other laid over her forehead.

"A fever," someone said. "Get her to bed!"

Ah, her bed. Familiar and lovely, as soft as the snow and so much warmer. Thankfully, the bizarre heat had subsided. She felt cold again, numbly and deeply. The fire roaring in the hearth helped, as did the pile of furs atop her, but she wondered if she'd ever be as hot as she felt sitting in a foot of snow.

"Hey," Tuff's voice said. She rolled her head to see him sitting by her. "Why were you playing in the snow when we found you?"

"Hot," Ruff said, voice cracking. "Felt so hot."

"Weird," Tuff said. "You're hot now, Gothi says you're sick."

"Sure feels like it," she groaned. "Feel like thawing mutton."

"Do you wanna be served with carrots or beans?" Tuff asked. "Mom's special mutton sauce probably won't taste too different on you. Can we roast you outside or do you want to be soup?"

"Soup," Ruffnut said, then fell asleep.

Chapter Text

He was generally pleased with his hair. It was brown and reddish in the sun, a color he'd heard called auburn. It turned almost black when wet and dried quickly to be soft again. He was lucky it didn't get greasy too quickly between washes or tangle much. He supposed his mother must have had more brownish hair than Stoick, or else he'd have turned out just as red as his father. All in all, a fine head of hair.

It was too bad that some of it was now parting company with his head.

Dagur's fist was clenched in it, pulling out a few hairs and using the rest to hold Hiccup still. It hurt, but he didn't dare move because of the knife at his throat. It was a very large knife. Hiccup was almost inclined to call it a sword, but it wasn't quite (a blacksmith's pedantisms, he supposed).

"That's right, back off!" Dagur shouted. Toothless roared angrily, slashing his tail in the air and pacing a dozen feet in front of them. Dagur laughed and twisted Hiccup's head to the side to better expose his neck. "You think I won't do it, Night Fury? I will, so get back!"

With a glowing green glare, Toothless backed away to clear the path back down to the beach. His eyes flickered between his rider and the other. Hiccup had the horrible feeling that Toothless was calculating whether or not he could snipe Dagur's head from his neck right over Hiccup's shoulder.

"Toothless," he managed, "don't. Go, get out of here!"

"Shut up," Dagur snarled. "You just shut up. We're leaving right now." He shook Hiccup by the hair and and hummed happily at the yelp of pain it produced. "Get used to the pain, by the way. There's gonna be a lot more where that came from!"

Hiccup wanted to curl up in a ball as Dagur unleashed one of his cackles. Would Toothless find the others? Had they found their dragons yet? Would they be fast enough to get him away from Dagur before they reached the armada? Surely there was no hope if he was dragged onboard one of those ships.

Dagur half-dragged, half-shoved Hiccup along the path. "You really thought you could beat me," he said. "You might be stupider than I thought, Hiccup. I mean, come on!" The knife slipped and Hiccup gasped as stinging pain appeared on his neck. "Whoops," Dagur muttered.

"Dagur, I'm sorry," Hiccup panted. He wasn't, but placating Dagur might let him survive.

"Sorry's just a word," Dagur said coldly. "You can show me how sorry you are once we're back on Berserker Island."

Panic surged; Hiccup barely even knew where that was on Berk's maps! His friends would never find him there! "H-how?" he asked.

Dagur laughed. "I'm sure I can think of some ways."

"Gold?"

"No fun if you figure it out from guessing," Dagur warned. "You'll find out soon."

They'd reached the beach. A rowboat from the flagship sat on the sand and Savage leaned on the prow, picking his teeth with a twig. He snapped to shabby attention as Dagur and Hiccup emerged from the treeline. "What?!" Savage cried. "Him! What's he doing here?"

"Playing with dragons," Dagur snarled. "Berk's broken the peace treaty. As my first act of retaliation, I'm taking Hiccup as a hostage!" He shook Hiccup by the hair again and Hiccup bit back a yelp.

Savage looked a bit lost at this turn of events but shrugged. "All right, sounds good to me! Should I tie him up?"

"Yeah," Dagur said. He lowered the knife and shoved Hiccup at Savage.

Hiccup staggered and fell to the sand. Savage sneered and reached for his arm, but Hiccup immediately made himself limp; dead weight was so much harder to handle.

"Did you kill him?!" Dagur shouted, striding forward and seizing Hiccup's arm. Hiccup closed his eyes just in time and kept himself as limp and expressionless as possible.

"No, I didn't even touch him!" Savage protested.

"You must have done--"

The treeline exploded with magnesium fire.

Astrid, astride Stormfly again, charged them with a ferocious battle-cry. Behind her, the others appeared on their own dragons, but Toothless was nowhere to be seen.

"I told you they broke the treaty!" Dagur screeched. He dropped Hiccup and scrambled into the boat, shortly followed by Savage. "Go, go go go!"

As they frantically rowed back to the armada, Astrid leapt off Stormfly and ran to Hiccup. "Hiccup, are you okay? Gods, you're bleeding!"

"Only a bit," Hiccup said, running a hand over the shallow slice on his neck. He passed a hand through his hair too; his scalp ached from being tugged on. "Where's Toothless?"

From above them, a bolt of plasma streaked over the bay and hit a ship near the center of the armada.

"He's having fun," Astrid told him. "Let's go home and tell Berk we're at war. Again."

Chapter Text

It wasn't like him. It wasn't like him at all.

Hiccup frowned as the shadow of Tuffnut vanished around a corner towards the stables. What could he possibly want there at this time of night? And, come to think of it, the figure he pursued was much more silent and coordinated than Tuff usually was.

The stables were dark, the dragons asleep in their pens. Toothless was still in Hiccup's hut, but Hiccup had slipped out for some air (dragon flatulence was unbelievably sulfuric). The stable had a human-sized door to one side of the huge bay doors. The figure slipped inside, and Hiccup, apprehensive and suspicious, followed.

Someone was trying to speak. Trying, but all that was audible were muffled grunts and groans. The center of the stable was a little lighter, thanks to a skylight, so Hiccup stuck to the shadows to not be seen. The figure he'd been tailing stepped out into the faint light.

It was Tuffnut. But... who was gagged in the corner? Tuff stepped forward and began to drag a bound figure into the center of the stable. Hiccup's eyes widened; it was Gruffnut! His distinctive lopsided helmet, his red tunic, of course! Why had Tuffnut tied up his cousin like this?! Hiccup was about to step out of his hiding place when Tuff spoke.

"Well, Tuffnut, this is where I leave you," the standing figure said in a gruff voice. Hiccup stifled a gasp. "In the morning, all your friends will find out they've been duped! Ha, they're all idiots! Once I get back to Berk as you, they'll never know what hit them!"

On the floor, the real Tuffnut groaned in despair. He tried to kick but Gruff-as-Tuff stomped heavily on his shin. The gag muffled the pained scream, but it disturbed the dragons.

"Gruffnut!" Hiccup shouted, stepping out from his place as the dragons screeched and snarled, "It's over! Let him go!"

"Oh great, it's the peg-leg," Gruffnut sneered. He reached down to the belt of his stolen clothes and raised Macey. Tuff moaned through his gag. "And what are you going to do about it, runt?" Gruff asked, advancing on Hiccup, who realized with a stab of annoyance that he was unarmed. Well, he hadn't been expecting this!

Macey's first swing whiffed past his head as he ducked, then slammed into the boards where he'd been as he rolled away.

"Stay still!" Gruffnut roared.

"No!" Hiccup snapped. He patted his pockets frantically as he put space between them, Tuffnut squirming on the floor in the middle. Anything, any tool or anything at all?! His pockets turned up half a charcoal pencil, a few pebbles, and his little prototype firestarter. He'd taken off his armor, or else he'd have a tiny knife hidden under one pauldron. He cursed.

Gruffnut laughed. Their first actions had left him right in front of the door and Hiccup backing away further into the stable. "Well, you've clearly heard too much! And you're not tied up, so I've got to stop you from running off and yelling about my plans!"

"Don't you trust me to keep quiet?" Hiccup asked. He was only half-listening; he was searching the stables for anything that he could wield. There was a dunging fork, but it was all wood and the crater on the plank-floor from Macey's strike did not endear him to a wooden weapon. "I'm great at keeping secrets!"

From the pens, the dragons were agitating even more. It was confusing them to see Tuffnut, friend and rider, to be acting so oddly and sounding wrong. The real Tuffnut was close enough to confuse their scent of him, Hiccup knew. Stormfly's nose was sharp enough to discern the two Nuts and she hated it. Hiccup prayed her screeches would rouse Astrid, but he wouldn't count on it.

Gruffnut charged at him with a roar and swung Macey upwards. Hiccup overbalanced as he leaned back too fast and fell; he knew he'd remember the sight of the mace traveling at his face in his nightmares for a while before he rolled away, splinters from the impact landing in his hair.

He had an idea, but it was risky to say the least. The nearest pen to him held Barf and Belch, who were understandably panicked at their rider's behavior. Hiccup launched to his feet and ran to the pen's wall, then put his back to it. Gruffnut laughed.

"Nowhere else to go," he sneered. He hefted Macey and strode toward Hiccup.

"Make it quick," Hiccup said. He glanced at Tuff, who'd been wriggling at his gag this whole time. He'd almost got it loose.

"Oh, I'll make it painful," Gruffnut growled. He swung, but Hiccup was already moving.

He seized the mace and used Gruffnut's momentum to swing him around, shoving him up against the bars and knocking Macey out of his hand.

"BITE!" Tuffnut yelled from the floor, and Barf's head snaked forward instantly to grab Gruffnut in his jaws.

Muffled screams and Gruffnut's flailing made it evident that it wasn't a fatal bite, but just enough to incapacitate him.

"Yes!" Hiccup cried, laughing in relief. "Nice job, Tuff!" He knelt and tugged on the ropes. "Here, one second." The prototype firestarter was only good at little sparks, but that was enough to singe the cords away so that Hiccup could snap them.

Tuffnut groaned as Hiccup helped him up. "I hurt everywhere," he said. He leaned forward on Hiccup's shoulder. "Carry me to bed, pleeeease."

"Not yet," Hiccup said. He nodded at the kicking legs protruding from Barf's mouth. "Let's get him in a spare pen." They did, Gruffnut barely bothering to struggle. His encounter with the inside of Barf's mouth had left him a gibbering mess.

"I don't know why I liked that guy for so long," Tuff said as they walked up from the stables. He'd draped himself over Hiccup's shoulder; Gruffnut's stomp to his shin was making him limp.

"I get it," Hiccup said. "He's charismatic... uh, to a point. He drew you in, and he was working his hardest to fool you."

"He didn't have to work too hard," Tuff said morosely. "Ruff was right."

"It's alright," Hiccup said. He hoped he sounded reassuring. "After tomorrow, you never have to see him again and we can just put this all behind us. Sound good?"

"Yeah Tuff sighed. "... thanks, Hiccup."

"Of course," Hiccup said warmly. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat, but I might bring my sword next time."

"Deal."

Chapter Text

It was no use to struggle, of course. The hunters holding each of his arms were gripping like grim death with no concern for how his arms would bruise. He cursed as their pace caused him to stumble and neither man slowed. He had to hop for a moment, weight pulling painfully in their hands, before he could get his feet back under him.

"Could you slow down?" he snapped at one, who scoffed and ignored him. "Look, it's easier for me to walk than you to drag me!"

The other rolled his eyes and kept his speed. Hiccup thought he might have even sped up a bit. He cursed again as he stumbled, twisting his metal foot.

"Agh, wait, stop!" he said. He almost fell over before they grudgingly halted.

"What?" one grunted.

"My leg," Hiccup said.

The one on his left scoffed again. "Looks fine to me. Get moving."

Hiccup scowled and put weight on his leg, then bit back a yelp. Something had definitely gone wrong with the prosthetic. "I can't."

The hunter sighed dramatically. "Fine. You want to make this difficult? You're seeing Ryker whether you want to or not, boy."

Hiccup glared at him. "It's not like I want this to happen either," he said.

"Here," the other hunter said. He looped Hiccup's arm behind his own neck and gripped his wrist firmly. "He can't get away and we get back faster," he told his fellow.

"Good idea," the hunter said. He mirrored his friend. They were both taller than Hiccup so his bad leg didn't touch the ground as they marched him through the hunter camp.

Much sooner than Hiccup would have liked, they arrived before Ryker. The man sneered at him and turned to his subordinates. "Why're you carrying him?"

"Says his leg's hurt," one reported.

Ryker snorted. "And you fell for it?"

He motioned for the hunters to release Hiccup. Hiccup had tried to be prepared but he still wobbled horribly on his right foot and made a grab for the tent-pole beside him. Ryker laughed.

"Guess he was telling the truth! Alright, you're dismissed. I'll take him from here." He reached for Hiccup and grabbed him by the upper arm.

Hiccup internally groaned at being passed off like a sack of grain. It rubbed him the wrong way. Would Ryker let him take a moment and see what had happened to his foot? It was a new one and he hadn't got used to it yet. Had something broken? Shifted to stab or pinch?

"I'm not carrying you," Ryker growled at him. "You better hope you can walk, or else you're getting dragged."

"Let me look at my foot," Hiccup said shortly. "I might be able to fix it."

"No time," Ryker replied with a nasty grin. "Viggo's waiting."

Hiccup's stomach clenched as Ryker pulled on his arm. The moment he put weight on his foot, it bent sideways and slipped free. He crumpled and was left hanging from Ryker's hand.

Ryker groaned as dramatically as his men. "Get up."

"Does it look like I can?!" Hiccup snapped. He held up the defective prosthetic. "It's broken."

With an indistinct growl, Ryker hauled Hiccup to his right foot. "You're a lot more trouble than you're worth," he growled and wrapped an arm around Hiccup's chest before marching off.

It was uncomfortable and awkward; he was half-gripped against Ryker's side and could get his right foot on the ground with every fourth step or so, but for the most part he was being hauled along with his broken foot clutched in one hand, the other gripping Ryker's wrist.

Ryker hauled him farther than the two hunters had, until they had arrived at an ornate tent that Hiccup recognized. Viggo was surely sitting within, smug as anything, and Hiccup was being hand-delivered to him. Hiccup thought about fighting but didn't think Ryker would take it well. The older Grimborn shouldered open the tent and stepped inside.

Viggo was indeed sitting at his desk with such a self-satisfied smile that it turned Hiccup's stomach. Ryker grunted, job done, and dropped Hiccup on the rug in the middle of the tent.

"Oh, Ryker," Viggo said disapprovingly. "That's impolite. Hiccup, please take a seat here." He indicated the chairs before him.

"He went and broke his leg," Ryker scoffed. Viggo's eyes flashed before he saw Hiccup holding the prosthectic.

"In that case, please help him up," Viggo told him.

Ryker rolled his eyes and seized Hiccup by the shoulders, dragging him upright and then into the chair. "Happy?" he shot at his brother.

"Acceptable for now," Viggo agreed. "Leave us." Ryker did so happily. "What happened to your prosthetic?" Viggo asked Hiccup.

"Your men broke it," Hiccup said. Even if it wasn't strictly true, the rough handling he'd been subject to couldn't have helped. He turned up the sarcasm. "I don't mean to be a burden, of course."

"I will ensure they are punished," Viggo said with a wave of a hand. "We are here for a different reason, Hiccup."

"You already have Berk's gold," Hiccup growled. "You won't get a ransom."

"I intend for you to earn back your people's gold," Viggo said with a smile. "I am a businessman, after all, and I pay well for services rendered." He leaned forward on his desk with his fingers steepled. "Shall we talk... terms?"

Chapter Text

If Astrid ever begged for something, it was only in fun. She wouldn't, and had never, debased her self so much as to beg for something. She could leave that to Snotlout, who was usually begging for her attention or something.

But now, she found herself backing away and extending a shaking hand to protect herself.

"Wait," she said, fighting the urge to whimper. "Wait, please."

Ryker didn't say anything; he wiped her spit off his face and handed the lantern he'd been holding to the hunter beside him in exchange for keys to her cell. He opened the door and began to advance on her, fists balled. She'd never seen him look this murderous, and that was saying something.

"I- I'm sorry," Astrid said. Her feet faltered over the uneven stones of the cell. "I shouldn't have--" Her frantic backtracking was cut off as Ryker brought his arm forward and crushed her against the wall, forearm across her throat.

"Little bitch," he snarled over her attempts to breathe and break his hold. "Did you think you could get away with that?"

Astrid choked, scrabbling at his arm and probably leaving scratches from her nails. Lights were flashing in her vision. It had been stupid, but she'd been so angry and needed to do something to assert power here. Spitting in Ryker's face had not been the right way to do it.

"My brother lets your boy pull stunts like that," Ryker snarled, his breath hot and foul in her face, "but I don't take that sort of disrespect from anyone."

He pressed his arm forward until she thought her neck would be crushed, then stepped back and let her crumple, coughing and wheezing, to the floor. Tears started in her eyes and she tried to force them back, hating to show weakness here, but it was no use.

Ryker chuckled nastily as sobs mixed with her coughs. "Feeling stupid yet?"

Astrid was. She didn't really regret spitting on him, but she was heartily wishing she hadn't at the same time. A pounding headache had rushed in as she gasped for air. Pushing herself upright, she swiped her hand across her face. The tears were slowing, thankfully, but she hated them anyway. She wasn't weak.

"You're going to apologize to me," Ryker told her. "And if you don't, it'll be a lot worse than that little embrace." He crouched down. "Start talking."

She glared at him; she could hardly get a full breath in without coughing and he wanted an apology right now? There would be a nasty lump on the back of her head where she'd hit the wall, too.

He was impatient. He reached out and took hold of the back of her head, fingers digging into her hair. She yelped as his hand pressed against the tender spot on her skull. "I said, start talking," he growled. The bastard had a spark of mirth in his eye.

Astrid coughed again. "I'm-- sorry," she wheezed. It was the most she was willing to say.

Ryker shook his head. "Not good enough." His fingers tightened in her hair and she whined in pain. "Try again."

"I'm sorry," she repeated, trying for a more remorseful tone. "I shouldn't have-" she coughed, "-spat at you."

He pulled an exaggerated face of consideration. "Hmm... Ogmund, you think she means it?" he asked over his shoulder.

"No," the hunter outside the cell sneered. "She ought to really mean it, I figure. Make her real sorry, Ryker."

Ryker turned back to her with a malicious grin and her stomach lurched. "Please," she said, "please don't, I meant it!"

"Oh, I like when she sounds all scared like that," Ogmund laughed. "A bloodthirsty dragon-riding Valkyrie? I don't bloody well think so!"

"Please," Astrid said again, hating that she really did mean it this time. "Please... I'm sorry, Ryker."

He looked into her eyes for a moment, cruelty dancing like fire in his own, then released her and stood. "Eh, I think she meant it that time." He smirked down at her where she huddled against the wall. "But if I change my mind, she's not going anywhere."

Ogmund shrugged. He handed Ryker back the lantern, leered at Astrid, then followed him away.

Darkness returned to Astrid's cell as their footsteps retreated, and only after the iron door to the prison had slammed in the distance did Astrid let out the breath she was holding. It came out as a sob and many others followed it. She cried until she had run out of tears for the moment, then slumped against the wall with nothing but dread to comfort her.

Chapter Text

One of the strange masked men had been trying to keep him quiet as they dragged him through the woods, but Hiccup knew Toothless would come running if he heard Hiccup shout. So he bit the hand over his mouth and bit hard.

He managed to get half a breath for a yell before another hand, bigger than the first, clapped over his mouth and forced his chin up so he couldn't bite. Hiccup glared at the man now holding his mouth shut and got a sneer in return. "Give me some rope," the man hissed to his fellows. Rope was produced, and the procession of masked assailants halted to force Hiccup to his knees. He tried to struggle, but his wrists were tied.

The man crouched in front of Hiccup, hand still over his mouth, and met his gaze. "I'm going to move my hand," he said quietly. "And if you cry out, you will regret it." A sword poked out from its scabbard behind his back, and the man snickered as he saw Hiccup's eyes go to it.

He removed his hand and Hiccup stayed silent. It was always better to follow along rather than get seriously injured, and he still needed to find out what the Hel was happening and what had happened to the others.

"Open your mouth," the man with the rope said. He had a ball of fabric in his other hand that Hiccup didn't think was going to taste good. "Now," he added firmly, as Hiccup hesitated.

Hiccup obeyed and recoiled as the fabric was pushed into his mouth. To his surprise it didn't taste as bad as he expected, but it was still exquisitely uncomfortable as the man forced the rope between his teeth and bound it tightly behind his head.

"There," the man said with satisfaction. "Now he can't scream. Pick him up and let's get him to the Queen."

Chapter Text

Berk's winters were bad, but the ones at the Edge were even worse. Tuff thought gloomily about his nice warm hut and nice warm baths and the nice warm sauna they'd built around the hot springs for winter. He was bundled in his thickest tunic and coat, rabbit-fur lined hat and gloves, and a scarf his mother had knitted and insisted on sending home with the riders from their last Berk visit.

It all added up, but unfortunately it was simply freezing. He couldn't have a fire in a wooden watch-post. The others were all back at the Edge, but it was his turn on watch. Their southern watchtower had been compromised in a hunter attack, so there had to be an actual watch set until they could fix it.

He shrunk down into his clothes and tried to imagine himself being warmer. It wasn't really working. He'd brought a canteen of tea along with him but it had long since gone cold, and as he shook it, he thought he heard ice rattling. It was hard to hear over the wind.

How much longer was he out here? Hard to say. Hiccup had said to come back when the moon hit the trees or when he couldn't stand the cold anymore, then the next watcher would relieve him. He squinted through the swirling snow for the pale smear of the moon. Was that it?

Maybe he wouldn't rely on the moon. Was the cold more than he could stand? Defiance reared up weakly; did Hiccup think Tuff couldn't take the cold? The instinctual defensiveness floundered in the face of the blizzard.

He had a little flare with him, something that Hiccup and Fishlegs had spent ages tinkering with and making sure that no one would fool around with them. It was a firework, but somehow treated to work in blizzards. When he was due to head back, he was instructed to set off the flare with his firestarter and someone would come get him.

He shuddered harshly. His hands were rapidly numbing; if he didn't set the damn thing off soon he wouldn't be able to at all, and the others would find his frozen body here in the morning. He already suspected that Fishlegs would insist on having a look at him when he got back.

It was a struggle to light the flare. Wind made it nearly impossible, but he finally managed to light it and steer it towards the Edge. It soared off in a roaring green streak, then vanished into the snow. He sat back and blew on his fingers; he'd had to take off his gloves and his fingers were aching already.

How long would it take for them to come get him? Did he have time for a little nap? He leaned back against the wall of the lookout house and put his gloves back on. Ah, he could almost feel the steam of the sauna, smell the weird minerality of the water, hear Snotlout complaining that it was too hot and Astrid complaining that it was too cold... he'd be there soon. His eyes closed.

Chapter Text

The sauna felt so nice. Tuff sighed happily as he stretched out. The rocks were steaming so gently, the steam filled his lungs with the faint scent of minerals in the water...

The door rattled. Someone wanted to come in? Eh, he was fine with sharing. He scooted over a bit on the bench to let someone else lounge, but the door just kept rattling. Now they were shouting, pounding on it. "Tuff! Tuffnut!"

"Door's unlocked," he said, confused. They could just come in if they wanted to! Was it Hiccup? It sounded like Hiccup...

"Tuffnut! No, no no! Tuff, can you hear me?!" The sauna suddenly vanished. The warmth drained like a punctured wineskin. Everything was dark and cold. So, so cold. What was going on?! He tried to sit up and found that he couldn't move.

Hands slapped his face, harder than he personally deemed necessary. His eyes felt stuck closed. Freezing air knifed in his throat and made him cough, but he couldn't breathe in.

Something was pushed over his mouth. Cloth?

"It'll warm up the air," someone said. Ruffnut? "Our mom did this when we were kids."

"Help me get him on Toothless. He can't fly Belch right now."

Tuff felt himself being jostled and hefted. It hurt; he wanted to be laying back down and wasn't happy to be woken up. Had he been sleeping? He supposed so. If he tried hard enough maybe he could doze off...

The hardest slap yet made him jump. "Don't sleep!" Ruff shouted at him. "Stay awake!"

Don't wanna, Tuff thought petulantly.

"Sky, Toothless!" Hiccup called, and Tuffnut felt himself jolt as Toothless took off. Hiccup was still holding the cloth over Tuff's face and shook him as they flew so he wouldn't doze. "Almost there, almost there," he said. "Hold on, Tuffnut!"

They landed with a flurry of wind and Tuff felt himself being dragged off Toothless. Hiccup wrapped one arm around Tuff's waist and brought his arm around his neck. "You got him!" Fishlegs' voice was close at hand. "Is he okay?"

"Gods, I hope so," Hiccup said. "Let's get him inside."

Ah, warmth that wasn't part of a dream! Tuff's brain started to work again. He realized just how cold he'd been and gasped in the safe, breathable air. Hiccup pulled the cloth away from his mouth as he was eased onto a cot near the fire.

"His eyes are frozen shut," Ruff's voice said. She sounded furious, but he recognized the undertone of terror. She tended to take out her fear as anger on anyone in her way. He wanted to tell her he was fine, but couldn't summon the strength to speak yet.

Something warm and wet landed on his face. It was another cloth, pressing gently over his eyes to help open them. The water had probably been room-temperature but was almost hot to him.

"I vote that no one stands guard at that outpost until this storm lets up," Astrid said. "It's too dangerous."

"For once, I agree with Astrid," Snotlout added. "I'm not gonna risk freezing off any parts of myself I'd like to keep, thanks."

Hiccup sighed. "I know, but it's not safe to leave our perimeter unwatched."

"If the hunters can make it up here in this weather, they deserve to invade," Snotlout said.

"Let's maybe not go that far," Astrid said. "Just until the storm lets up, okay?"

"You're right," Hiccup said. "Tuff, you feeling okay?"

"Mnnh," Tuff said.

"Shut up," Ruffnut snapped to the others. Tuff felt her get closer and the wet cloth was lifted away. A finger pried at his eyelid and he grumbled. "You okay, bro?" she asked, more gently than he'd heard in a while. Not since he'd dislocated both his shoulders at once that one time.

"Gnns," he said.

"What?"

"Nnsaun."

"You're not making sense."

"Saunnna."

"Sauna?" Fishlegs said. "No, not yet. We have to make sure your fingers and toes are safe; you could have frostbite."

"Pleeease?" Tuff groaned.

"Soon," Ruffnut said, and she laughed. It was heavy with relief. "I'll come with you when you can go."

Chapter Text

Hiccup barricaded the door to his hut behind him and was about to drag himself up to his bed before he heard Toothless scratching at the hut's door. He'd forgotten to let him in. He opened the door and let his dragon in, then bolted it again.

His bed was unmade from when he'd leapt up to see Astrid, but he had no desire to put it to rights before flopping onto it. The adrenaline that had been keeping him conscious for the last twelve hours was kicking him on the way out.

The memory of Astrid, skin grey and breath wheezy, was bobbing at the forefront of his mind. She had been minutes from death, according to Fishlegs' private opinion to Hiccup, and the antidote had been nothing more than a myth.

It was the pure will of the gods that she'd survived. He couldn't honestly attribute it to anything else. It had all been too impossible. By all likelihood, they would never have found the Buffalord, not to mention understanding that it was the saliva and herbs together that were the cure.

There was a heavy chance that they never realized it was the Scourge. The dragon could have been a myth. It could have been real, but extinct. Viggo could have killed the dragon. He could have refused to allow Hiccup to take the cure. Hel, he could have shot them all while they were distracted by Astrid.

The sheer levels of chance and luck that had compounded to save Astrid's life made Hiccup want to curl up into a ball and cry, which is what he did. He tried to keep it under control, but that didn't last long. Tears were burning his eyes and he screwed up his face as they spilled over.

The deferred panic and desperation he'd been suppressing were arriving now. He'd had no chance to break down while he was leading the search, but as soon as Astrid was sleeping peacefully in her hut, he hid away and let his emotions out.

Toothless moaned to him; he knew Hiccup wasn't in immediate distress, but he hated to hear his companion making such distressed sounds. He put his head on the bed beside Hiccup, in reach in case he wanted the comfort but not touching in case he needed space.

Hiccup fought for a deep breath, eyes aching and nose completely stopped up. His chest hurt from heaving sobs and he felt dehydrated, but his mind was clearer. Toothless looked so worried that he couldn't help a small smile to reassure him.

"It's okay, bud," he said, voice roughened by sobs. "It's all gonna be okay."

Chapter Text

It took them almost an hour to find him. Almost an hour of demanding his location from every hunter they came across, almost an hour of Toothless being frantic, almost an hour of Hiccup being missing.

The hunters were abandoning the island. If they took Hiccup with them, who knew where he'd end up? Would the others be able to track him? Viggo would have him... but presumably he had him now.

Fishlegs tried not to panic as he trotted down a row of half-disassembled tents. It looked like the hunters had left them in a hurry, not even caring that they were left behind. It was very odd... he'd have to think about it more once they found Hiccup.

He'd gone after Heather and run up against Viggo. One hunter had told them that before Tuffnut maced him over the head. Hiccup had been preparing to meet Viggo for weeks now, but had he been ready? The hunter's nasty chuckle had suggested not. Toothless had been frozen with Flightmare mist when they'd found him. Viggo must have turned the dragon on them. And now... where could Hiccup be?

"Hiccup!" Fishlegs called, as he had been the whole time he searched. Across the island, he could hear the others doing the same. "Hiiiiii-ccup?"

"F-Fishlegs?" A voice had come from under one of the misshapen tents. Fabric moved aside and Hiccup's face appeared.

"Hiccup!" Fishlegs exclaimed. "You're here! Are you okay?"

Hiccup emerged slowly. His armor was hanging off him crookedly, like he'd put it on in a hurry. The red tunic underneath was rumpled, even torn at the neck where the lacing ended. His hair was more disheveled than usual and... Fishlegs blinked. Hiccup's face and eyes were reddened, like he'd been crying. A small cut was bleeding on his cheekbone.

"Are... you okay?" Fishlegs asked again. "You look--"

"I look fine," Hiccup told him quickly. "I am fine. Where's Heather? The Flightmare?"

"We found Heather," Fishlegs said. "Well, she found us. We put the Flightmare back on its migratory path, but Viggo and the Dragon Eye are gone."

Hiccup's fists clenched at that last bit of news. If Fishlegs read his expressions right (and having been his friend for years, he was certain he did), Hiccup felt sick at the mention of Viggo.

"Hiccup," Fishlegs said, stepping forward and placing a careful hand on his friend's shoulder. Hiccup jerked back, eyes suddenly wide. He forced away the reaction, however, and didn't meet Fishlegs' eyes.

"I'm fine," Hiccup said flatly. "Where's Toothless?"

"With Astrid, and losing his mind over worry for you," Fishlegs said. Clearly, something bad had happened when the hunters separated him from Toothless. Something involving Viggo. "Let's go find the others."

"W-wait," Hiccup said. "Not yet."

"Sure," Fishlegs said. He decided to adopt the approach he used on skittish lambs; he'd find out what was wrong in Hiccup's own time. "Do you want some water? That Flightmare mist dehydrates you."

Hiccup took the proffered canteen but didn't drink. He was staring at the ground with it clutched in his hands, unseeing. To Fishlegs' great concern, he saw tears on Hiccup's face.

"Hiccup," Fishlegs said, so softly it was almost a whisper. "Do you... want to talk about... anything?" He floundered internally; he didn't know how to deal with this! Hiccup hadn't cried in front of Fishlegs since Toothless came into his life.

The tears dripped off Hiccup's chin and he raised one hand to swipe them away. "Th-the mist," he said, eyes still pinned on the ground. "I couldn't move. C-couldn't stop h-- it."

Dread sank in Fishlegs' gut like a boulder. The torn tunic, messy hair, armor askew, the way he flinched when Fishlegs touched him. Had Viggo used the Flightmare mist to his advantage in more ways than one? The thought made him ill. And how must Hiccup feel?

"You're bleeding," Fishlegs said, out of a lack of anything else to say. "Here, let me clean it." He took a piece of linen from his pack and took the canteen from Hiccup's unresisting hands. He dampened it and hesitated before touching Hiccup's face. "I'm going to put this on your cheek," he said. "That okay?" Hiccup nodded.

Fishlegs carefully pressed the linen to the injury and wiped away the drying blood. The wound was crescent-shaped, as if someone's nail had dug into the skin. Hiccup winced, still staring at nothing. The tears hadn't fully subsided and Fishlegs brushed at one with his other hand.

Hiccup jumped back, chest heaving. "Don't!" His eyes were wide again, now blazing at Fishlegs. "Don't touch me!" His fists were clenched, raised between them as if he intended to strike his friend.

"I won't," Fishlegs told him gently. He hadn't flinched. "I'm sorry."

Hiccup stared at him for another moment before he began to relax a little. "O-okay." He winced a little as a tear crossed over the cut on his cheek. "Can I have that?" He took the linen Fishlegs offered him and put it to his own cheek.

"Before we go back to the others," Fishlegs said as delicately as he could, "do you want help with your armor?" He winced; that had been the wrong thing to say. Hiccup had looked up again with that wild-eyed panic.

"Don't touch me," he repeated, taking a step back.

"I won't," Fishlegs repeated hastily. "I just want to help."

Once again, Hiccup began to relax after a moment, deflating like a cat after being startled. "I can do it." He handed back the cloth (his fingers didn't brush Fishlegs') and set about rebuckling his armor so it sat comfortably again. He almost looked like himself, except for the torn tunic, red face, and cagey posture. He looked ready to lash out if anything startled him.

Fishlegs gave it another moment and then extended a hand. "Hiccup... I won't tell the others. But you have to know, you can tell me anything at all." He tried to give an encouraging smile but knew it was tinged with worry. The small smile Hiccup returned was almost immediately replaced with the nervous look he'd had this whole time.

"I just want to get back to the Edge," Hiccup said. He reached out slowly and touched Fishlegs' finger with his own. "Maybe... in the morning... but not now."

Fishlegs nodded at once. "I get it. Let's find Toothless and the others." He saw how the mention of Toothless hit Hiccup; instant relief flickered in his eyes. "I think my Night Fury call is pretty good," Fishlegs said, trying for humor. He leaned back and gave it a try. It sounded like a Nadder imitating a Gronckle, but it was enough.

An answering Night Fury call, the real thing, echoed back to them. Out of the corner of his eye, Fishlegs saw Hiccup straighten up with a smile that didn't melt away instantly. The brush at the end of the row of tents rustled and a huge black shape appeared, tongue lolling.

Hiccup cried out in joy and closed the distance between them. Fishlegs stepped back to give them space as Toothless bowled Hiccup over to sniff and lick him all over. Whatever he smelled concerned him, and he was whimpering as he checked his companion over.

"I'm okay, bud," Fishlegs heard Hiccup say. "I'm okay. Nothing happened. He's gone." A Nadder call rang across the island, followed by another with a human accent.

"Astrid's on her way," Fishlegs said, knowing Hiccup already knew.

"Let's meet her," Hiccup said, extricating himself from under Toothless. "I want to go home."

Fishlegs called Meatlug, and she arrived just as Astrid became visible a ways off. Together, he and Hiccup flew up to meet her and the others who weren't far behind.

On the way back to the Edge, Fishlegs flew behind Hiccup. He fancied he could see tension in his friend's shoulders, even from here and in the dark. Whatever had happened must have affected him deeply. Fishlegs wasn't going to push. When and if Hiccup confided in him, he'd be there to listen without judgement.

Until then, however... his darkest suspicions ran wild.

Chapter Text

It was truly paralyzing after all. He'd wondered how it felt when Astrid had gotten hit with it three years ago, and now he had his answer. He couldn't move a finger, not even twitch his nose, somehow he could still breathe. Toothless under him was just as immobile. Cold horror filled every part of him.

Viggo stepped forward. Hiccup could barely see him out of the corner of his eye, but his presence was warm by his side. "You and your Night Fury played right into my hands," the hunter chief said quietly. "To be honest, I expected more..." Hiccup felt the saddlebag by his left leg move. The Dragon Eye--! Viggo raised it to the cheers of his men.

No, no no no, NO! Hiccup thought frantically. He strained against the mist's hold, but it was as if he hadn't tried: he was a statue carved from ice.

Suddenly, fire ran along him. Viggo's hand was on his arm. His skin was hot, especially to Hiccup's senses, and he was running his fingers along Hiccup's forearm.

"What more may I find out?" Viggo asked. His voice had gotten closer. Hiccup felt his breath on his ear. "Your friends won't miss you for a little while." What?!

Terror wracked through Hiccup's mind as hands took him by the shoulders and pulled him from the saddle. He was frozen ridiculously in the air as if he still sat on Toothless, but one of the hands pushed on his right leg to make him easier to carry.

And that was what Viggo did. He gathered Hiccup's stuff form into his arms, leaving Toothless where he'd fallen. The hunters around the clearing had dispersed, Hiccup saw as his field of view shifted. It was just him and Viggo now. The man shuffled him until Hiccup was staring at the sky, Viggo's arms under his back and legs. The heat radiating off him clashed with the icy terror still gripping Hiccup. The others! Toothless! Heather! He tried to move any part of himself at all, but it was no use.

Viggo set off through the sparse trees. It seemed like Hiccup was hardly a weight to him as he went. Hiccup could only watch the branches flash by overhead. He heard Viggo grunt softly as they arrived at an incline and he slid back against Viggo's chest as he climbed.

At the top of the short hill there was a tent crafted from various exotic hides. Hiccup could only see its ceiling, lit by lanterns hanging from support poles as they entered. He felt himself being set on a surface. It stung harshly to be placed like a stack of books or crate. Viggo turned away and noises of things being moved came to Hiccup as he lay.

The noises stopped and Viggo picked him up again. He set Hiccup's feet on the floor so they faced each other. Hiccup felt sick to see the satisfied smirk on his enemy's face. Viggo reached forward and pressed down on Hiccup's back so that he was forced to bow, then tilted him back so he was sitting in a chair that had been placed behind him, legs sticking out comically. Viggo bent his knees so that he was almost sitting in the chair naturally, his hands still raised in front of him where they'd frozen in his last moments of mobility.

"That's better," Viggo said with satisfaction. "Now we may get to know each other better." He unhooked a lantern and brought it down to sit on the edge of the desk beside them. "I do like to know who I'm dealing with."

Hiccup could do nothing but stare into Viggo's eyes. They were dark brown, but with none of the warmth that such eyes usually held. His heart raceed as Viggo reached out to him. The hand landed on his arm again, like it had on Toothless's back. The heat hadn't changed; it felt fever-hot on his arm.

"Do you not fight with a sword?" Viggo asked. "I saw your shield. I feel that you're quite strong. Does dragon riding require such strength? Ah, don't answer that." He smirked. "I would be interested to see your fighting style. I imagine it would play to your strengths; evasion and using the momentum of your opponent to overpower them?"

Hiccup could have jumped a mile if it wasn't for the mist; Viggo's hand had traveled up to feel his biceps. Panic was roaring in his ears. He wanted desperately to throw Viggo off, but he could hardly breathe. The mist was still strong.

The hand changed position. It tugged at the pauldron emblazoned with Hiccup's seal of Toothless. "Ah, your precious Night Fury. Quite the unique tale. Ryker tells me that Dagur speaks of little else but your exploits with that beast."

Oh, gods. Viggo was working with Dagur, he knew, but panic and memory were colliding in his head and sparking off one another. For a moment it was Dagur's hand on Hiccup's shoulder, his breath in his ear, his other hand clutched around Hiccup's waist. No, no, no...

But then he was back in this tent, Viggo Grimborn still before him, his hand still on his shoulder. Viggo was different than Dagur. Terrifying, yes, but in a completely different way... right?

"This armor is very well made," Viggo said. His other hand went to the buckle across Hiccup's chest that held the pauldrons in place. "May I?" Hiccup wanted to scream as Viggo unfastened it and removed the leather pads. He had to move Hiccup's arms around a little to disentangle the straps and conscientiously pushed them back down after he'd finished and set the pauldrons on the desk. "A lovely hauberk. Fine tooling on the leather."

The hands were unbuckling the clasps at the sides of Hiccup's chest and on his shoulder. His armor was being removed before he could even process this new horror, and in very short order he was sitting before Viggo in his thin tunic and bracers. Oh, gods. Goosebumps unrelated to the icy mist had broken out all over his skin and he couldn't do a thing but stare emptily at Viggo, who was smirking still.

"Much better," Viggo said. "The armor can hide who a man really is, I find."

If he could, Hiccup would have flinched as Viggo reached out again, but this time the man's hand cupped his face.

"I prefer to see who an opponent really is before I formulate my strategy," Viggo said. His voice was lower now; he stepped forward and used the hand on Hiccup's face to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact. His thumbnail was digging into Hiccup's cheek. "I find your strategy fascinating, Hiccup. You come to find me by yourself, knowing you were outmatched, and you put up almost no fight against my Flightmare."

I'd never hurt a dragon being forced to attack me! Hiccup wanted to shout. His breath caught in his chest as Viggo's free hand teased through his hair. Dagur's hands had done the same years ago.

"I wish to make my message clear," Viggo said softly. His eyes were blazing. The smirk had dropped. "You will cease your meddling in my affairs. Your riders will leave my hunters in peace. Or..." The thumbnail dug harshly into his cheek and Hiccup felt the skin break. "Things will go very badly for you. Do you understand me?" The hand clenched in his hair. "I am a man of my word, Hiccup. I can promise that you will not like what comes after crossing me."

Hiccup fought the sting in his eyes; he was not about to show weakness here, but his eyes had other ideas, apparently. One tear slipped out and Viggo shook his head.

"Ah. I can understand how this is hitting you, my boy. You've never met an opponent you can't thrash, and now you are thoroughly out of your depth." The hand in Hiccup's hair released. "I don't mean to frighten you, really I don't." The hand rested on Hiccup's shoulder, then slid down his back. Viggo still had his eyes locked on Hiccup's.

Stop, Hiccup thought. Stop. Don't touch me! His chest burned with the need to shout it.

The thumbnail retreated from the wound it had left. "I hope that doesn't sting too much. I merely wished to drive my point home." His hand on Hiccup's back suddenly tucked under his collar. One finger ran across the scars on Hiccup's back and shoulder from the years-old lightning strike. "Ah, blessed by Thor, were you?" Viggo asked. He'd leaned forward a little so Hiccup's eyes were fixed on the ceiling. "Not many survive that."

I'd take it again a hundred more times to end this. His skin felt as though it was burning under Viggo's touch. He strained against the mist for what felt like the hundredth time, and suddenly, he jerked forward.

Viggo stepped back suddenly, his hand catching on Hiccup's tunic. It tore as he pulled free. "Ah." Hiccup still couldn't move his head to see Viggo's expression, but he sounded disappointed. "Yes, the effects are temporary. I suppose that is my cue to leave. Until we meet again, Hiccup." He took Hiccup's chin again and now Hiccup could swivel his eyes over to glare at Viggo. "I've no doubt it will be soon."

And then he was gone, striding out of the tent and into the night.

The mist wasn't wearing off as fast as Hiccup wanted. His whole body itched like he'd gotten fleas. The icy feeling was ebbing too, but the combined sensations made him want to claw at his skin.

He managed a grunt and succeeded in extending his leg, then straightened his arm. His joints felt creaky. It was no use to try and wiggle his fingers; they were stuck fast. It was so odd. He could swing his arm clumsily, but fine-motor control eluded him.

The ghost of Viggo's touch on his face made him shudder. A clumsy attempt to wipe away the blood only smeared it. It's like Dagur all over again. The thought was ugly. Dagur's infatuation and obsession with him had been horrifying; he'd barely escaped with life and dignity intact that night on Dragon Island. The ways that night could have gone terribly wrong had tormented Hiccup for months.

And now... another enemy of his. Another set of hands he didn't want. His throat tightened. It was hitting him with more force now, as the memories solidified. Viggo's eyes, his hand on Hiccup's back, thumbnail digging into his cheekbone... and all the while, Hiccup could do nothing but stare into Viggo's eyes.

It was painful to sit here in Viggo's own tent as his body returned to him. The space was full of dragon-trophies: bones, hides, taxidermy. Viggo hadn't taken anything from the tent. He hated every inch of it.

When he thought he had enough control to stand, he tried it. He over-corrected and fell over with a curse. His legs ached as he pushed himself to sit up, and he merely sat for a moment, working at various joints. Knees, elbows, hips, and shoulders all seemed to be working. Neck was a bit rusty. Wrists and ankle cracked like ice, and fingers were out of the question.

He couldn't sit still any longer, now that he could move. He needed to be away from this place. He needed Toothless. Using the desk, he dragged himself to his feet. Viggo had left his armor, thankfully. It was almost impossible to manage without his fingers' cooperation, but he managed to get the shoulder-buckles done so it could hang off him. It wasn't tightened properly and he only bothered with one side-buckle. The pauldrons were easier; the buckle was bigger. He secured it and paused to regain strength.

Something in the mist had also sapped most of his stamina, apparently. It took a few moments before he could stand without his legs trembling, and even then, his hands shook. Was it the mist, he wondered, or the panic he hadn't been able to express while frozen?

It didn't matter. He had to get out of here. He walked stiffly to the tent's opening and looked around. The sparse forest they'd walked through was at the bottom of the hill. He had to get back to Toothless. Hiccup edged carefully down the slope, knowing that he would heartily regret falling, and set off cautiously through the trees. Were there more hunters? Wild dragons? Maybe even Dagur, who'd love to find Hiccup like this. The thought made him walk faster.

Somewhere he'd turned the wrong way. In front of him was a ragged row of tents, some half-collapsed, others laying on the ground, still others bundled neatly. The hunters had been trying to flee.

He staggered to one of the partially standing tents and slipped inside. There was enough room under the ceiling for him to sit, so he did and worked on loosening up his muscles. His fingers still complained and his hands still shook.

It's like Dagur all over again. Hiccup put his head in his hands. How would he explain this to the others? He winced as his fingers brushed his cheek, it still stung. Did he have to tell them...? He could say... well, he could say anything. Ryker hit him, Viggo had a knife and Hiccup narrowly avoided having his throat cut, the Flightmare had scratched him, anything like that.

He didn't have to tell them what had happened.

What he suspected. What terrified him when he thought about it for too long.

His eyes stung suddenly and he cursed. He didn't want to be reacting like this! He shouldn't have let Viggo get to him, shouldn't have gotten hit with the mist, shouldn't have fallen for Viggo's tricks in the first place. He wiped the fresh tears from his face and sighed shakily. He'd have to face the others soon. Maybe after he was calmer. When he could face them and lie through his teeth while not batting an eye.

"Hiiiii-ccup!" A voice from outside, not far away. Hiccup jumped and stared at the tent's entrance, breath suddenly coming fast. Someone was out there. He immediately recognized the voice as Fishlegs. Was he ready to face him? It was Fishlegs. His oldest friend, closer than anyone but Toothless or maybe Astrid. He'd understand.

Hiccup took a deep breath and pushed aside the tent's opening to emerge before his friend.

Chapter Text

Hiccup tugged at Toothless's saddle. "Come on, bud. It's late and I have a project to present tomorrow." Toothless groaned and came to walk by Hiccup. It was late, something like half past eleven. Hiccup squinted at his watch as they passed a lighted window, but it blinked out before he could get a good look. "Thanks," he muttered.

It wasn't his choice to be walking home right now, but flying past curfew was frowned upon; even when Hiccup was so careful not to get caught, his father always knew somehow. So he and Toothless walked. His foot ached from standing at his job (hardware store associate for the summer) and the stump under his prosthetic was worse. He was looking forward to collapsing at home and catching what sleep he could before heading off to his engineering club at nine. Oh, and college applications, and summer homework, and chores...

Was it the weekend tomorrow? He counted back the days and grumbled internally; it was Thursday if he was any judge. Another day of club, then afternoon and closing shift, then he could go flying all weekend. His packed schedule was driving Toothless crazy from not being able to go flying whenever he liked, but he'd once again refused the automatic tail. Instead, he spent his time swimming and fishing in the local lake. He'd made a huge dent in the invasive carp population, but also tended to capsize boats by surfacing too close when he wanted to say hello.

Something shifted in an alley as they passed. Hiccup ignored it; probably a cat or a raccoon, maybe a Terrible Terror rooting through a trashcan. Beside him, Toothless began to growl. Hiccup's blood froze; that wasn't his ordinary playful growl. Something was very, very wrong.

Out of the darkness, something small and white streaked through the air and hit Toothless in his flank. He screeched and tried to shake the thing off him, but as his movements slowed, Hiccup saw with horror that it was a tranquilizer dart. He whirled around to see who had shot his dragon, but the laughter coming out of the dark alley told him all he needed to know.

"Has anyone ever told you not to take the same walk home every night at midnight?" the hated voice said. "Makes you real easy to track, brother."

Dagur emerged, tranquilizer gun slung over his shoulder. He'd cut his fiery hair short, and a scraggly beard had grown around new scars on his face. His crooked smile and piercing eyes were the same, however, and he started advancing on Hiccup.

"Dagur," Hiccup said numbly. He'd been in prison. He was still supposed to be in prison. How was he here now, with a specialized tranquilizer gun and-- Hiccup's stomach dropped-- several large friends?

"Surprised to see me?" Dagur asked, tilting his head to the side. "You shouldn't be, really... I just had to come and see you, Hiccup." Two of the figures went to Toothless.

"Don't touch him!" Hiccup made to step between them and Toothless, but a hand clamped around his upper arm and spun him around. Dagur had seized him.

"He'll be fine," Dagur said, and the green fire in his eyes was much more evident at this range. "It wears off in a few hours."

"Let me go," Hiccup said. He tried to keep the shaking out of his voice, but this was something out of his nightmares. The last time he'd seen Dagur, three years ago, had borne an unfortunate resemblance to this. That time, however, had featured Dagur pressing him against a wall with a blade poised to slip between his ribs. He still had a scar from where it had dug in.

Dagur chuckled. His full cackle was bad, but this was somehow worse. "No, don't think I will. I think I'll keep holding onto you. Because, really, what are you going to do about it?"

Hiccup had been getting involved with HEMA for a few years now. He liked the fencing and longsword fights, but he'd really been training in self-defense on his father's orders. He could completely beat Gobber, his mentor. And this was the very reason why he'd taken it up.

He slipped free of Dagur with a jerk and spun away as he made a grab for his arm again. The other men Dagur had brought (his followers from before he'd been imprisoned, no doubt) had been trying to lift Toothless, but tried to catch Hiccup as he went past.

"This thing's loaded with dragon darts," Dagur growled, hefting the tranquilizer gun and sighting along it. "Wanna find out what it does to a human?"

That stopped Hiccup in his tracks. He knew that whatever had knocked Toothless (Toothless, of all dragons!) out in five seconds would likely kill him just as fast. A man grabbed both of his arms and forced him towards Dagur as another went farther back into the alley. Red lights flared, then white; the back of a large van came into view.

Dagur opened one of the doors to reveal a cargo bay that would barely fit Toothless. The man holding Hiccup passed him off to Dagur as the driver got out, then they joined their fellows in the effort of hauling Toothless into the van.

"We get to sit up front," Dagur said to Hiccup. His hand was back around Hiccup's arm and was sure to leave bruises with the amount of force applied. "Hope you like middle seats."

"Why are you doing this?" Hiccup asked. It was hard to keep desperation out of his voice, and he knew Dagur heard it no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

Dagur's face was much too close as he replied. "I thought about you every day in prison," he said. It wasn't quite a growl. It was richer than that, more emotional. "Every day for three years."

Hiccup was suddenly and uncomfortably aware of the heat radiating off Dagur, making them both sweat even in the chilly night. Their faces were very close together now. Hiccup's panic shot up like a rocket as Dagur spun them both around and shoved him against the wall of the alley.

"This feels familiar," Dagur said with his shark-grin. "I don't have a knife this time, though. Pity." He was pressed so close to Hiccup that their legs tangled. Dagur had one knee forward, pressing between Hiccup's legs. Panic was a white roaring wave in Hiccup's head. He wanted to hyperventilate, but he could hardly get a breath into a chest that felt crushed.

"Got it done, boss," one of the men said behind them. Dagur turned to see Toothless loaded into the van. Hiccup sagged against the wall in his grip, heart going a mile a minute.

"Good," Dagur said. He turned back to Hiccup and leered. "Come on, brother, let's go home."

Chapter Text

Well, the amount of blood now staining her tunic was probably not a good thing.

The gash in its fabric revealed a corresponding gash in her skin, one end over her left breast and the other end on the low right side of her ribs. She'd spun as the sword caught her. The hunter who'd held it was currently kicking his legs as he hung from Stormfly's mouth, his upper half inside it. Fire was eating Astrid's whole chest.

"ASTRID!" She heard the shout from across the battlefield as she fell to her knees. One of the others had seen her get hit. She couldn't spare the thought to look around for them. She was too occupied with pressing both hands to the wound as if it would keep the blood inside. Her head swam as she keeled over. The sky was very blue.

Hiccup's hair was very brown, she noticed as he appeared in her field of vision. His skin was as pale as a nearby cloud. "Astrid! Oh gods, oh gods. FISHLEGS!"

Fishlegs appeared too, his hair glinting gold. "Oh Thor..."

"Don't just stand there, help me!" Hiccup cried. He knelt beside Astrid and added his hands to the staunching effort. "Bandages! Stitches! Something!" He turned back to Astrid. "J-just keep breathing, okay?! Fuck. Stormfly, drop that bastard off a cliff!" Astrid felt the brief blast of wind as her dragon obeyed. "We're going to stop the bleeding," Hiccup told her as if saying it made it true. "You're going to be okay."

"How deep is it?" Fishlegs asked, taking his healing supplies and laying them out before him. He picked up some small shears. Astrid remembered Hiccup trying to perfect their design in his forge last month. A wave of agony made her choke on air.

"Not too bad, I think," Hiccup said. "Lots of blood." That comment almost made Astrid smile with its redundancy.

"On three, move so I can get her tunic out of the way," Fishlegs said. "If we're lucky, none will have gotten in there." Hiccup nodded, jaw set. "One, two, three!"

Astrid gasped as Hiccup's hands vanished, taking hers with them. It felt like a gush of blood emerged, but that probably wasn't the case... she couldn't tell. The shears left a cold line through the fire along her stomach as Fishlegs snipped her tunic away. Above her, Hiccup made a noise of alarm. Astrid didn't care that the shears were now making short work of her breast binding, but Hiccup's face was as red as his hands.

"It's not as bad as I thought," Fishlegs said, though his voice shook a bit. "I need to sew it up and clean it."

"Just tell me what to do," Hiccup said firmly.

"Hold her arms above her head," Fishlegs said. "I have to clean the needle. We don't have time for anything to numb the pain, Astrid, I'm so sorry."

What's a little more pain? Astrid thought. Her mind felt ragged, thin around the edges. Hopefully the increased pain would make her pass out. Hiccup carefully raised her arms and put his weight on her wrists, moving to sit at her head. She suddenly had a flashback of doing the same to him on a beach on Dragon Island, but that time it was his blood drenching the sand.

The last thing she remembered before the world went dark was Hiccup's face over hers, a valiant attempt at a smile there. "It's going to be oookaaaayyyy..." The pain surged and she knew no more.

Chapter Text

Ruffnut rolled over when the coughing passed ten seconds. Tuff was sitting up, one hand on his chest and the other clenched in his blanket as his shoulders shook. She lit a lantern and sat up.

"You okay?" she asked. He turned his head to wink at her before another coughing fit started. It was cold in their hut as snow swirled outside, and the temperature of the air surely wasn't helping the cough.

Didn't they have some sort of potion or tincture Fishlegs had left them when they'd last been sick? She got out of bed, wincing at the cold on her feet and hands, and went over to the little stash of medicine they kept on hand. The lantern-light wavered as drafts entered the hut. The labels were all done in Fishlegs' neat runes and she soon found the one she wanted.

She brought it over to Tuff's side and uncorked it. It was some sort of flower, stewed down in honey for hours. Unlike many of Fishlegs' other concoctions, it actually tasted good. Tuff managed to stop coughing long enough to chug some of the potion and it seemed to help.

"I'll leave this here," Ruff said, putting the bottle next to his bed. She shuddered again; was it colder in here than it had been two minutes ago? Her own bed was piled with wool blankets and pelts which she gladly snuggled under. It was still warm, thankfully, though an icicle might be considered warm compared to how she was feeling. She rubbed her feet together like a cricket and clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering.

"Ruff," Tuffnut said, voice raspy.

"Mnnh?"

"You okay?"

"W-w-why?" Ruff managed before biting her lip by mistake.

Tuff propped himself up on an elbow and peered at her. "If I'm sick, you're sick. It's a twins thing." He shook his head. "Yeah, you're sick."

"Mmmgh. 'M fine," Ruff muttered, scrunching down under her bedclothes.

Tuff paused to cough and sighed. "Fishlegs'll come over tomorrow."

"Mmkay," she mumbled. Silence except for the whistling wind filled the hut.

In the morning, a knock came at the door. Fishlegs shouldered his way in past a snowdrift. "Brr! It's three feet deep out there!"

"That's nothing," Tuff said, then coughed as Fishlegs closed the door behind him. "Was ten feet on Berk last year."

"How are you feeling?" Fishlegs asked. "Did you use that needle-flower syrup I made?"

Ruff nodded. In the night, her throat had begun to burn. She hadn't started coughing yet but she knew it was only a matter of time.

"It helped," Tuff said. "Need more, though. Ruff's sick too."

Fishlegs turned to her with concern. "Oh, no. Are you?" She nodded again and felt her head twinge at the motion.

"It's a twins thing," Tuff told Fishlegs knowledgeably. "She'll always get sick if I do, and I will if she does. Every time."

With a roll of his eyes, Fishlegs built up the fire in their firepit and tossed on a couple handfuls of sweet herbs. "These will help clear the sickness from you," he said. "I'll bring more syrup over. Do you need willow-bark?" Ruffnut raised a hand with a groan. "I'll bring some," Fishlegs said reassuringly. "We're off patrols until the weather clears, Hiccup says. You'll feel better by then."

"No promises," Ruff muttered.

"We can be sick for a long time," Tuff pointed out. "If it gets us out of patrols."

Fishlegs huffed a laugh. "I'm telling Hiccup you said that."

"Is anyone else sick?" Ruffnut rasped.

"Snotlout claims he is, but I looked him over and I think he was just cold," Fishlegs said. "Astrid wouldn't let on if she was, and Hiccup's just staying inside as much as he can. He doesn't want to risk it."

"Typical," Tuff sniffed. "Nice whiteout blizzard conditions, and here we are, stuck in bed."

"Do I want to know what you do in blizzards?" Fishlegs asked warily.

"Don't worry about it," Tuff said with a wink. "Can you bring some food back with the syrup?" Ruff moaned; she didn't want to think about eating right now.

"Sure," Fishlegs said. "Something easy to eat." He shrugged his coat back on and went to the door. "See you soon." And he was out, back into the storm.

Ruffnut moaned again and flopped an arm over her eyes. "Gnnhgghhh," she said, then coughed.

"Feeling that, sister," Tuff said. He was shivering like she had been last night. "This sucks."

"Majorly," she agreed raspily. "Don't get sick anymore."

"I won't if you don't."

"No promises."

Chapter Text

It jingled as Hiccup tugged at it. To his annoyance, the hunters had started thinking a little more when they locked him up. The first time he'd been chained up by them, they'd put the shackle around his left leg. It had only been staying up because he flexed his calf muscle so it didn't fall, and the instant the hunters had left, he slipped out of it like a fish.

This time, however, someone had put more than a moment's thought into it.

A bar had been forced through the open middle of the prosthetic and a crosspiece was locked into place on the end, so that it couldn't be withdrawn. He could take his foot off, but there was no way to retrieve the prosthetic until the crosspiece was unlocked and the bar removed. So, he could hop or crawl around the pen with the trapped dragons, but he'd have no real chance of escape. If he wanted to stand on his feet with dignity, he'd be chained in place while he did so.

It had probably been Viggo's idea, he thought glumly as he twisted the bar and its crosspiece in idle hope of outsmarting its design. He enjoyed that sort of manipulation; a little hope of escape, only to be wrenched away. It was just like the bastard.

Toothless was chained too, but the muzzle he'd been forced into was too tight even for drinking water. Hiccup had torn the cleanest strip he could find off the tattered blanket they'd tossed him and soaked it in the water from the trough, inserting it between Toothless's dry lips to try and get a little water to him. They'd both been unconscious when the muzzle was affixed, or else Hiccup would have made sure Toothless's teeth were extended the whole time. Then when the hunters had left, the muzzle would loosen as he retracted them.

No such luck. Hiccup sat back against his dragon's side and glanced at the miserable dragons across the cell. Making eye contact was a bad idea so he didn't stare. They were all pocked and scarred from hunter abuse, skittish, angry, scared. Would any of them let him form a connection? He doubted it but he had to try eventually.

He glared at his compromised prosthetic. His saddlebags had been stripped off Toothless, along with most of the saddle rig itself. The tailfin was still attached, but the pedal on the right and the controlling component on the left had been removed inexpertly. He'd definitely have to do some repairs before they could fly again. It made sense to take it all, he had to admit. The saddlebags usually contained a spare leg. He had no doubt that Toothless could mangle his current foot enough to break the crosspiece and bar, but then he'd have the twisted remains of a foot instead of a working prosthetic. Fixable, but not immediately.

With a sigh he disconnected it anyway and pushed himself upright with Toothless's help. He hopped along, one hand on the wall, to peer out the door. The corridor outside was deserted except for a single snoozing guard. Keys hung from his belt and Hiccup eyed them speculatively. How well was this cell secured? There was no handle on this side, and dragons didn't have thumbs.

The grating of the little window was too small for a dragon's limbs, but his arm could be forced through if he shed his bracer... the latch was... in reach? Was it really only a lift-latch door? Maybe they thought he wouldn't take his foot off to try to escape, and he was only too happy to prove them wrong.

The door didn't creak as he opened it outwards. Toothless and the other dragons were watching intently, seeming to understand that stealth was required. After an agonizing few seconds of trying to pull his arm back through without rattling the door, Hiccup reattached his bracer and executed a fine silent roll across the corridor to end up next to the guard. Toothless's eyes burned with excitement from across the corridor; Hiccup grinned and carefully unbuttoned the loop that held the keys in place. Thank Thor. He straightened up, keys held carefully so they wouldn't jingle, and glanced up and down the corridor one last time.

His eyes met those of the hunter captain who ran the fighting ring. The man had frozen in the mouth of the corridor and, as Hiccup's heart threatened to jump from his mouth, drew his axe and bellowed "OI!"

Hiccup threw himself into another roll to get back to the cell and his leg but it was clumsy from panic; the captain was running towards him and calling for backup the whole way. The key-keeper had woken with a snort and lunged at Hiccup, bearing him to the ground.

"Don't let him up!" the captain roared. "You useless sack of dragon shit, you let him get your keys?!" He kicked the hunter in the ribs and then did the same to Hiccup, seemingly for good measure. Hiccup grunted in pain and tried to curl up to protect his core, but the hunter holding him was gripping too tightly. The captain leaned down and snatched the keys away from Hiccup.

"Sorry, sir," the hunter groaned. "Won't happen again."

"You're damned right it won't," the captain snarled, "because this time I'm securing him myself! You're demoted to cage duty, idiot!"

"Yes, sir." The disgraced hunter got up and dragged Hiccup as well.

The captain took Hiccup's arm and shoved him, hard, back into the cell. Hiccup sprawled with a yelp of pain; he'd landed badly on his wrist. Toothless growled, but his chain pulled him up short.

"I'm going to take the thumbs off the man who thought this was a good idea," the captain sneered as he kicked the prosthetic on the chain. "Too clever by half!" He reached over to the coil of rope that hung outside the door and turned to Hiccup with a sneer. "Ropes can't be unlocked, dragon-rider." He seized Hiccup's wrist and twisted; Hiccup only just bit back a yell of agony.

The ropes were expertly tied at his wrists (behind his back, of course), around his torso to pin his upper arms, above his knees and again just below them. The captain stepped back to inspect his work and grabbed a spare shackle on an unused chain. "Looks about the right size," he said, holding it up critically. It was probably for a dragon's leg, Hiccup thought, eyeing it warily. It wouldn't fit his own leg.

His eyes widened when the captain unlocked it and snapped it around his neck. Ah. It wasn't intended for his leg.

"Perfect!" the captain said gleefully. "Let's see you get out of this one, boy!" Hiccup didn't reply, he just glared. The captain chuckled. "Oh, don't be like that! I'm an expert at containing wild animals." He walked over to the chained prosthetic and released it, then tossed it so it skittered across the floor into a corner. "Much better. If you're good, I'll untie you to eat," he said.

"Have your fun," Hiccup said darkly. "You know my friends are on the way."

"So is my boss," the captain said with a smug grin. "Let's see who gets here first, shall we?" He laughed as he left, slamming the door behind him. Toothless let out a muffled whine and nudged Hiccup with his head.

"That could have gone better," Hiccup said dully. He wanted to scream; he'd been so close to getting out of here, and then it all came crashing down to leave him much worse off and with what felt like a sprained wrist. The gods must have been having a little fun. The shackle around his neck was cold.

Chapter Text

Alvin leaned forward to meet Hiccup eye to eye. His beard was bristling with anger and Hiccup fought the urge to step backwards (not that he could have gone far; Savage was standing right behind him).

"That's your final answer?" Alvin growled.

"Yes," Hiccup said firmly. His voice didn't shake. "I'm not going to help you capture dragons, or train them to destroy my home. You're crazy if you think I will!"

He didn't like that Alvin chuckled. "Crazy, eh?" the Outcast chief said with a sidelong wink to his lieutenant. "I don't think you know crazy. Savage, would you help 'im out?"

"It'd be my pleasure," Savage sneered. He seized Hiccup by the shoulders and dragged him down a side corridor from Alvin's halls. "I'm going to enjoy this," he told Hiccup as they clattered down a tight spiral staircase.

"Do I want to know why?" Hiccup asked dryly. He was starting to get nervous; how far were they going into the island? Would his friends be able to find him when they came to his rescue?

Savage ignored him and kept going. The stairs were getting rougher underfoot and the torches were becoming less frequent. After another few dizzying spirals, Savage seized the last torch from its bracket and continued downwards.

Hiccup's pulse spiked; they were heading into pitch darkness. He tried to back up but Savage was stronger than him.

"W-wait," he said. "What's down here?"

Savage laughed unpleasantly. "Your new home, boy. This is what happens when you're stubborn!" He shoved Hiccup forwards and out into what must have been a corridor. Hiccup couldn't see anything beyond the pitiful sputtering light that the torch gave. The air was thick with the smell of rot and caves.

There were doors in the walls. Savage went to one and struggled with the corroded bolt. Hiccup considered making a break for it but really didn't like the idea of being tripped halfway up those stairs and rolling all the way back down. He reconsidered as Savage got the door open. Clearly, the Outcast knew what he was thinking and seized his arm.

"Get in there," he snarled. "You're staying down here until you're ready to train dragons for Alvin!" He shoved Hiccup hard, sending him crumpling to the floor of the cell. Hiccup sat up frantically; the torchlight briefly illuminated a cot in one corner and a rusty pot in the other. The floor was slimy.

"Wait!" Hiccup cried, but it was too late. The door slammed just as he struggled to his feet and his fists met age-hardened wood that felt like stone. There was no handle there. "NO!" Savage's muffled laughter retreated. The faint pinpoints of light around the door frame diminished, then disappeared.

The only sound in the cell was Hiccup's panicked panting. His heart was racing; they'd gone so far down into the bowels of the island, and now he'd been locked there.

The darkness was so complete and deep that his eyes almost hurt. He couldn't tell if they were open or not, let alone see his hand pass by his face. Calm down, calm down, he told himself. It's just the dark. Nothing scary about the dark. Snotlout's favorite thing to say to tease Fishlegs popped into his head; It's what's IN the dark that you have to be scared of.

Take a deep breath and calm down, he thought frantically. It won't be for long. They want you to crack. You can outlast them; when they come down to check on you you'll make a break for it. Carefully, he put his back to the door and started to edge along the wall, hands skimming over the stone. He jumped when his fingers hit the wall.

Okay, that's the wall with the cot against it. He turned and started along the next wall, hand held low to find the bed. It felt dry but dusty. He took another deep breath before grabbing the blanket and giving it a shake; he'd need it down here. Once he was satisfied with it, he set it back down, felt his way around the bed, and put his back to the wall that faced the door.

After a few moments of careful shuffling, his foot fetched up against the rusty pot with a dull clank. He sniffed cautiously and decided that any previous occupant's leavings had decomposed years ago. He completed the circuit of the room with the pot in one hand, then went to the bed and stuck it underneath.

There was nothing to do then but sit on the bed and stare into nothingness.

When will they come down here? Tomorrow? How will I even know when tomorrow is? It had been around dusk when he was brought up before Alvin and defied him. Was it night now? Are they going to feed me? Is starvation part of convincing me to work for him? What about water?

His stomach, already unsettled from the panic he was suppressing, clenched at the thought that no one would come after all. They NEED me, they're not going to leave me down here, he thought desperately. They're just trying to scare me right now but they'll be back. He lay down and tugged the blanket over himself; it was clammy-cold in the cell and he tried to stop himself from shivering. He wasn't going to freeze to death, but he would be miserable.

Closing his eyes made no difference but he did it anyway. Just hold it together until they come back. Lie and say you'll do it, maybe, to get out of this cell, then run when they let you out. It'll be tomorrow, or maybe even a few hours from now. He scooted closer to the wall.

The silence was pressing on his ears. He could hear his heart beat, hear the rush of blood in his ears, his breathing was like harsh winds. The darkness was deeper than he'd ever seen, sucking at his mind. Thoughts skipped through his mind, one after the other, chasing each other around, taunting him.

You'll starve. They'll forget about you. There's no water here. There are bones in the other cells, bones of men left to die in this darkness. Did the darkness kill them? Did they call out to each other or were they put down here one by one? Would anyone hear you if you screamed?

Hiccup sat up and opened his eyes, which didn't help.

"I'm not going to go insane down here," he said, and his voice sounded flat in the closed space. "I'm not going to lose my mind. There's nothing down here but me, and I'm safer in here than I am up there."

He wanted to believe himself so badly.

Sleep wasn't easy to come by. He jerked awake a few times, convinced that he'd heard footsteps approaching, only to be met by the same impenetrable dark and silence. Once, he was was sure of it that he stumbled to the door, ready to leap out when it opened, only to realize that he hadn't heard anything after all.

Time stretched on as he sat in the cell. He listed every dragon he knew, classes and attacks, then did it again when the silence rushed back in. He cautiously paced the cell, one end to another, then diagonally, then in circles. He sang what songs he could remember and ignored how his voice shook. But when he stopped, there were no echoes to die away. It was silent again.

And the darkness never abated. How could it? He was under a hundred feet of solid stone, locked away in a cell so deep that he'd never see the sun again. When that thought encroached, he jumped up and started pacing again. tripping over the uneven stone and trying not to panic.

"They need me," he told the darkness. "They need me, and my friends are coming..."

Those words fell flat as time spun around him. There was no way of telling how much time had really passed; he could see it being an hour or a day. He tried to think back on how many songs he'd sung, how long it took him to traverse the cell, how many dragons he knew. How much did it add up to?

An image of Toothless popped into his mind as he lay there. He closed his eyes and tried to make it more real, detailing every scale to himself. The curve of a wing, the length of his tail, his shining teeth, his eyes like high summer. In the darkness, Hiccup wouldn't be able to see him anyway. So, maybe it would be a harmless distraction to imagine Toothless there with him.

He would be curled up near the bed after heating the stone underfoot. Maybe he'd give one of his huffing, grumbly sighs. He could almost hear it on the edge of his senses, just barely out of reach. Hollowness gnawed at his stomach; Toothless wasn't there. He couldn't be. Fooling himself into thinking he was would only cause him to spiral further.

Footsteps and voices echoed down to him. Hiccup sat bolt upright, heart pounding. Was it Alvin or Savage? The riders? He scrambled to the door and strained his ears. The voices were distant and muffled. He couldn't make out any words... the footsteps weren't getting any closer or the voices any louder. He hesitated, then plugged his ears. The muddled voices remained.

In his head. All in his head. He was hearing things that weren't there. He was losing his mind. And how long had it been? An hour, a day? Two? He slid down the door and buried his face in his hands. He felt something whuffle at his hair, heard a concerned whine.

"No!" he shouted, lashing out. "You're not real! You're not here!" His hands met nothing but darkness. The fraction of hope that had held out in case Toothless really was there somehow shriveled. Bitter sobs welled in Hiccup's chest and he forced them down.

"I'm not going insane," he said to no one. "I'm not. I'm sane. I'm sane. I'm alone here, and no one is outside. I'm alone down here." One sob escaped and he put his head back in his hands. "I'm never getting out of here."

He didn't notice he'd fallen asleep, but something jolted him awake. He'd slouched over onto the rough floor. Was it really voices this time? Was it his cruel mind playing tricks on him again? He held his breath to listen, and when he heard the sounds again, crammed his fingers in his ears. Sure enough, the sounds were drowned out. He jumped up and backed away. Who would it be?

The noises got closer. Voices, for sure. Heavy thumping footsteps. The clatter of weapons? He plugged his ears again to check and found that the sounds were still real. Even as he watched, pinpoints of light were appearing.

"Think a day's enough?" Alvin's voice. It was him. He was here.

"He was squeaking before I even closed the door." Savage, gloating. Hiccup's fists clenched. A day, then. He'd been in here all night and all the next day?

"He's stubborn," Alvin said, disgruntled. "He'll be in there, happy as a clam."

Shame twisted in Hiccup; Alvin thought he was tougher than he was. He couldn't even last twenty-four hours without spiraling.

"Let's see," Savage said. The corroded bolt of the door rattled and groaned as it was unlocked. Hiccup took a deep breath.

And yelped in pain as the door opened. The light from the torch Alvin carried felt like staring into the sun! He clasped his hands over his eyes and turned away, bright spots dancing in his vision.

Alvin laughed. "Mole's eyes!" he said. "Blindfold 'im."

Savage's footsteps entered the cell and Hiccup's hands were dragged away from his face. He squeezed his eyes shut as the sound of his blanket ripping came from beside him, then its rough weave was knotted carelessly around his head. Cautiously, he opened one eye to see a dim glow filtered through the ratty wool.

"Feel like training some dragons for me, Hiccup?" Alvin asked, voice honey-sweet. "Want to get out of the nasty cell?"

Indignance flared, but self-preservation and panic overtook it swiftly.

"Yes," Hiccup said. His voice was hatefully meek. "Let me out."

Chapter Text

Hiccup wasn't one to accessorize, not usually. He sort of counted his prosthetic as an accessory, which he knew was silly: it was part of him and necessary for walking in a way that a hat or jewelry wasn't. He had various glass beads that he wore for special occasions, a ring that had belonged to his mother, and his helmet, of course.

Now as he stared into the little mirror made of polished Gronkle iron in his hut, he wondered how the others would react when he came to breakfast with a scarf...

The bruises were livid. The memories of how they'd gotten there made him livid, too. A chain, like he was some sort of animal. Pulled along, jerked around, whipped off his feet... he touched one and winced. They had been reddened and irritated yesterday, but clearly they'd just needed time to bloom. Well, they certainly had blossomed.

He rummaged around in his box of offcut fabric; most of it was left over from making Toothless's tails. Vibrant yellow? No. Red? Classic, but he had a feeling Tuffnut would say something about it clashing with his tunic. Blue? He didn't have quite enough... His fingers brushed a soft green linen. He pulled it out and smiled wryly.

His old tunic. Well, that would be interesting. It was missing a sleeve, the hem was stained, and it had long ceased to fit him. He'd been thinking about using it for a tailfin of his very first design as a memento, but he didn't need the sleeve for that. Carefully, he picked out the hardy stitches around the shoulder, then the ones down the seam.

Well, it would have to do. He adjusted it, tucked the ends into his tunic, adjusted it again. He fervently wished it was colder outside. Nothing for it. He gritted his teeth and went downstairs where Toothless was waiting. They made the short hop to the clubhouse and Toothless flopped down in the sun with a contented grunt. Hiccup hesitated, then entered.

The others were eating, Heather had cooked and everyone was happy about it. Astrid glanced around and then took a closer look. "Hey, Hiccup," she said. The stool next to her was empty so he took it. She passed him a plate and cup of the herbal tea Fishlegs liked to make of a morning. "Sleep okay?"

"Eh," Hiccup said. He took the tea and winced as he sipped; his throat hurt inside too? That was the last thing he needed.

"Loving the look," Tuff told him. "Really nostalgic!"

"Gives you a certain je nais se quois," Ruff added.

"Are you cold?" Fishlegs asked. "After all that stress yesterday--"

"I'm not cold," Hiccup said. Snotlout was peering at him closely. "What?"

"Nothing," Snotlout said. His eyes betrayed the lie of that. "Want some boar bacon?"

"Not super hungry," Hiccup admitted. The thought of attempting to swallow was indeed affecting his appetite.

"What does Toothless have in his mouth?!" Snotlout said suddenly, jumping up. Hiccup whirled around. Toothless was half out of sight, stomach in the air as he basked. "Come here!" Snotlout said, and Hiccup followed him to Toothless's head.

When they were out of sight of the others, Snotlout grabbed the makeshift scarf and pulled it away. Hiccup hissed in pain as it agitated the bruises and glared at his cousin. "What the Hel?!"

Snotlout stared at the bruises. "What happened?"

Hiccup snatched the scarf back. "A chain happened. Happy?"

"No," Snotlout said. "You need to get that looked at."

"I'm fine," Hiccup snapped. "And it's none of your business."

"Wrong," Snotlout said. "You're family. And technically, out here? You're chief. You can't just shut us out, Hiccup."

The uncharacteristic nature of his cousin's statement made Hiccup stop. He was right, really. Stoick's words of yesterday came back and made Hiccup feel sheepish.

"... Sorry," Hiccup muttered. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"You don't have to give us any details," Snotlout said. "Just let Fishface have a look at it, okay?" There was no arguing.

"Okay," Hiccup said. Toothless hadn't moved through their whole conversation and rumbled happily as Hiccup scratched his stomach for moral support. Snotlout had already gone back inside.

"Be normal about this," he heard him say, and rolled his eyes. Oh, well. He stood up, stepped back inside, and went right for his chair. Astrid's eyes widened and her knuckles turned white around her cup, but she didn't say anything.

"I have a salve, uh, that might help," Fishlegs said, trying to be casual so hard that his voice shook.

"Thanks," Hiccup said. He winced again as he tried to sip his tea.

"Here," Heather said, passing him the little crock of honey. "It'll feel nice."

"Thanks," Hiccup repeated.

"If you want any high collars sewn onto your tunics..." Tuffnut began.

"Tuff, he's obviously a man with taste!" Ruff said scornfully. "Get knitting, we've got scarves to make!"

Hiccup couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. "I'm fine, really. I'll stick to this scarf, if any."

"See how you like it once it starts snowing," Ruff retorted. "A linen scarf? Oh, no. No, no no. Tuff, where'd we put the purple wool?"

And Hiccup laughed. It wasn't much, and it hurt, but it felt good, too. He was back with his friends, they were going to help him, and the bruises would fade. The memories might take longer to do the same, but he'd have his friends by his side the whole time.

Chapter Text

"What if he never wakes up?"

Snotlout's dull voice made Astrid sit up from where she was dozing against the wall. They were both on a bench next to Hiccup's bed, which had been brought down from his loft to be close to the fire.

"What?" Astrid asked, rubbing her eyes. Snotlout was staring at the figure in the bed. They're cousins, she suddenly remembered.

"What if he never wakes up?" Snotlout repeated. "That happened to my grandfather." His hands were twisting in his lap. "He just went to sleep. He slept for a week, then one morning..." his voice trailed off.

Hiccup had been asleep for three days. Stoick and Gobber, on Gothi's orders, had been forcing broth laced with medicine into his mouth, but most of it ran out again. Hiccup never stirred through it all.

Astrid looked at the figure cocooned in blankets. The brown hair looked grimy and lank, the skin of his face was drawn and starkly pale with freckles standing out like soot, a scrape on his cheek in vivid red, the hands on top of the blankets were curled inward under their bandages. He'd had minor burns all over him, Gothi said. The worst had been concentrated on his left side.

The memories of screams came back to her suddenly and she shoved them aside. She'd been holding his wiry shoulders down as Gothi worked. He'd twisted and shrieked until they forced poppy-milk down his throat, but he still wailed in pain with every stroke of the blade or bite of the saw. Astrid knew she'd never forget it.

"He'll wake up," she said firmly. "You remember when he almost drowned, falling in that lake, and Dagur pulled him out? He was blue."

Snotlout shrugged. "I guess." He didn't sound convinced.

"How's your dragon?" Astrid said for something to say. "What'd you name it?"

"Hookfang," Snotlout said with a grin. "He's great."

"I named my Nadder Stormfly," Astrid said. She was still getting to know the beast, but they'd made great strides since getting back to Berk. She ate from Astrid's hand now.

"Nadder's a girly dragon," Snotlout said.

Astrid punched him. "Go away." He grumbled but complied, and when the door closed behind him Astrid was alone with Hiccup. Well, not alone.

Toothless was lying on the other side of the bed, and he hadn't moved from that spot in the last three days. He was asleep right now, and if Astrid peered over the bed, she could see his scaly flanks moving gently.

He'd paced nervously around the hut as the amputation took place. Anyone who tried to make him leave got a face-full of teeth. When they'd finished bandaging Hiccup and tucked him in, Toothless immediately put his head on the bed and nosed his way under Hiccup's hand. Stoick had been tempted to turn him out, at least until Hiccup was more stable, but the way Toothless's pupils instantly contracted gave him pause.

They gave him fish and water as he lay by Hiccup's side. He didn't seem inclined to eat, but did so unenthusiastically. He didn't want to do anything but stay by his rider.

Astrid sighed. She wanted to stay here too, but her own dragon needed feeding and exercise, so she pushed herself to her feet. She hesitated, then put her hand on the bed next to Hiccup's.

"You better wake up," she whispered. "If you die, I'm gonna kill you." A very soft growl rose from the other side of the bed and she looked into acid-green eyes. "Shush," she told Toothless. "I just want him to get better." Toothless grumbled and closed his eyes again.

Astrid looked at her hand next to Hiccup's and remembered how she'd given it a quick squeeze before the disastrous confrontation with Hookfang. She touched one finger to Hiccup's bandaged skin and clenched her teeth.

He'd wake. He'd pull through. He had to.

Chapter Text

He usually stayed on the edges of the Hall, and when he couldn't, hunched his shoulders to look as docile as possible. It wasn't hard. Even standing as straight as he could, the others were taller and broader than he'd ever aspire to.

It wasn't a good night for walking down the center of the Hall. The raid had been short but devastating. Vikings and livestock were lost. Houses burned. Children cried. And Hiccup walked through the Hall, avoiding the eyes of any Viking who looked his way.

He'd tried to help Gobber in the forge, but had mislaid tools in the heat of the moment. Gobber shouted at him but seemed to regret it when he saw the tears welling in Hiccup's eyes. "Go back to the Hall," he said gruffly when the last dragons were retreating or being secured for the fighting ring. "Do better next time."

So Hiccup went. It wasn't like he hadn't felt this way before. It stung tonight, however. Up at the top of the Hall, Stoick was helping hold a Viking down as Gothi directed her helpers to cauterize the huge gash across the prostrate man's stomach. Hiccup's own stomach turned and he hastily made for the corner where he knew food would be being served. It was tough bread and dried meat, but there was fish-broth to accompany it and it was more than he could scrounge at his house.

He accepted his portion and scuttled off to a shadowy nook behind a pillar, near the shield-portraits of old chiefs and their heirs. He didn't look at his father's. After letting the meat soak for a minute or so in the broth, he set about gnawing on it. The bread was edible after a dip in the broth too, so he ate his little meal in peace.

The peace didn't last. He'd just finished wiping out his bowl with the last bit of bread when a wooden cup struck the wall beside his head and jumped with a yelp. The bread fell to the floor and the bowl cracked.

Raucous laughter burst from three figures approaching him. Another cup struck his knee, then a third bounced across the floor. He should have known; it was Snotlout, Tuffnut, and Ruffnut. Snotlout had another cup and tossed it up in the air before catching it again.

"Rats hide in holes," Snotlout said to Hiccup. "I don't like rats." He hefted the cup and closed one eye to aim. Hiccup watched nervously and threw himself to the left as Snotlout chucked the cup. It hit the wall where his head had been.

"Ha!" Tuffnut crowed. "He's getting good at dodging!"

"Not good enough," Snotlout growled. He seized the cup that hadn't rolled away and threw it again, fast. This time it hit Hiccup in the head.

"Ow!" he cried, raising a hand to the now-stinging lump it had left. His fingers came away bloody.

"Ooh," Ruffnut said. "You're gonna get in trouuuble..."

Snotlout snorted. "I don't care!" That wasn't quite true, if one could judge from the worried expression he quickly stifled.

Hiccup hissed in pain as he dabbed at the new cut with his sleeve. He'd have to get the blood out before it stained, and it throbbed even though he tried to be gentle. Snotlout took out his moment of uncertainty by aiming a kick at Hiccup's leg. It connected, making Hiccup yelp in pain.

"Dodge that!" Snotlout said nastily.

Hiccup tried to get to his feet, to run as he usually did, but Snotlout apparently had other ideas. He swept Hiccup's legs out from under him to make him crumple to the floor, then kicked his leg again. He got the same place as last time.

Hiccup cried out in pain, blending in with the other scattered yelps and shouts as people's injuries were treated. He tried to get up again, but before he could do more than rise to his hands and knees, Snotlout put a foot on his ribs and shoved, hard.

"Stay down," he said angrily.

"Stop," Hiccup managed, trying to sit up. He wanted to curse as he felt tears on his face. Snotlout noticed them too and guffawed.

"Look, he's crying!" he bellowed to Ruff and Tuff. "Crying! Like a baby!"

"Or a girl," Tuff supplied. "Ow!" Ruff had punched him in the back.

"Let's show his dad," Snotlout said. He reached out and grabbed Hiccup's arm, intent on dragging him into the main area for all to see: the chief's son, his only heir, weeping because he'd gotten knocked around a little.

Hiccup broke free from Snotlout in panic and scrambled away on all fours to avoid the barrage he knew would follow, and once the cups had stopped flying, ran upright outside.

Once he'd reached the night air, he gasped for breath. It was like a knife to his lungs, but so much better than the smoky air of the Hall. The tears he despised rolled unbidden down his face as he picked his way down the long stairs. He'd huddle in his bed at home. His father would return late, whenever he finished in the Hall with the injured.

Would he care about what the others had done? Probably not as much as they thought he would. He'd grumble about there being blood on Hiccup's tunic, but he wouldn't begrudge the use of the bruise salve for Hiccup's leg where Snotlout had kicked him. He'd probably ignore it altogether.

Hiccup wiped the tears off his face before they froze and trudged across the plaza. He just wanted to go to sleep and forget this whole evening.

Chapter Text

It was getting on Ryker's nerves, it really was.

It hadn't been his idea to drag the boy to Viggo. Viggo had insisted via letter that any dragon rider, and especially this one, be brought to him immediately. And the fact that it was a blizzard outside was not helping matters.

He growled as the men broke camp. When he got back to Viggo, he'd wash his hands of the whole mess. He'd go back to overseeing the marble quarry or something. All the fun had gone out of hunting, for as soon as they showed up to an island with promising stock, there was a godsforsaken meddling dragon rider.

And now he had to deal with the most annoying one. The boy had been on a scouting mission, no doubt, as the Night Fury was the stealthiest dragon of the lot.

They'd hit one of the traps in the woods, and according to the men who'd gone to investigate, the boy fought like a hellcat to get the dragon out of the net. It was a metal one and made from light but strong chain, so he was having no luck when the men arrived. So they'd bundled the dragon up to drag back to camp, and one of them had knocked the boy out with a well-placed mace to the head.

Once the dragon was secure, they went back out and dragged the boy back too. He'd been unconscious in the snow for almost an hour and came to shivering. Ryker didn't care, of course. His men dug up a pair of wrist-shackles from where they'd been stored and clapped them on their prisoner, then tossed him into a corner of the camp's clearing to be dealt with once everything else had been completed.

Now it was time to be loading up onto the ship that had come to meet them. Ryker strode over to the prisoner. The boy was sitting up against a rock and staring over to the half-dozen cages being loaded up. Snow had settled in his hair and on his shoulders. He spared Ryker a glare as he approached. He was still shivering. Not that Ryker cared.

"You're walking on that ship yourself," he said. "No one's going to carry you."

"L-like I'd w-want you to," the boy said nastily. He pushed himself to his feet, shoulders hunched. He sneezed.

"If you run for it, the Night Fury pays," Ryker warned him. He didn't think he was stupid, but it was satisfying to see his shoulders tense and jaw clench. Ryker turned and marched back to his men and heard the boy's mismatched footsteps behind him. Ah, so he could follow orders. That was one less annoyance.

But as they passed the cages he heard the footsteps stop. He rounded on the boy to see him with his hands stuck through the cage, trying to touch the Night Fury. It had been sedated by the men for transport and the boy looked horrified. "What did you do to him?!"

Ryker seized him by the arm and dragged him away. "Knocked it out for a while," he growled. "Makes 'em easier to handle. You want to try it out yourself?"

The boy scowled fiercely and let himself be marched up the gangplank and onto the ship. Ryker thought about it for a minute, then decided to stick the boy in his quarters while he got everything settled and ready for departure. Keeping him with the dragons was asking for trouble, shackled or not. So Ryker shoved him into the quarters that served as his own office and berth, locked the door, and left to take care of actual important business.

He returned an hour later once they were underway and on course. They were set to arrive by morning, so it was time to get some sleep. The boy had stolen a blanket out of his hammock and was slouched in the chair in front of the desk. He glanced up at Ryker, who noticed with annoyance that he looked ill. Skin pale, jaw set. Probably from being left in the snow while the dragon was being secured. Oh well, as long as he didn't die on Ryker's watch. He'd never hear the end of it from Viggo.

"You can sleep there," Ryker said, pointing to the corner farthest from his hammock. "You're lucky I'm letting you keep that blanket."

The boy didn't reply. He merely stood up and walked unsteadily to the corner, then slid down the wall with his knees drawn up in front of him. Ryker scowled when he noticed that some of the hair at the boy's temple was matted with blood. From being knocked out, he supposed. At least he wasn't dead, and Ryker wasn't about to play nursemaid for an enemy prisoner. Viggo would be only too happy to, wouldn't he?

Ryker shrugged out of his armor and tunic and kicked off his boots, then blew out the lantern. He knew his way to his berth by feel and climbed into his hammock with a satisfied grunt. He'd had a long and productive day and would be getting up early to help dock the ship at the base.

Of course, the sounds of quiet shivering came from the corner. He frowned and tried to ignore it. The boy stifled a sneeze, then coughed softly. That was all Ryker needed; a sick prisoner. He glowered at the ceiling. Thankfully, he'd always been able to fall asleep quickly...

Morning was earlier than he liked but no matter. Ryker rolled out of his hammock, scratched himself and yawned, then grabbed a tunic and his armor. He glanced to the corner and rolled his eyes.

The boy was curled up with his back against both the walls of the corner, head pillowed on his arm, and as much of himself under the blanket as he could manage. The blood on the side of his head had dried black and a bruise was coloring the skin at the edge of his hair. Dark circles lined his eyes, just like Viggo.

Ryker took the canteen of water off his desk and dropped it next to the boy's head. He sat up with a start, shackles jingling. He looked confused to where he was for a moment, then glared up at Ryker.

"Wash that blood off," Ryker said coldly. "Can't have Viggo thinking I mishandled you."

"And here I was, thinking you cared," the little bastard snarked back. His voice was rough, like his throat ached. He coughed.

"We're landing soon," Ryker said. "Viggo's waiting." To his satisfaction he saw that the boy didn't like that. His jaw clenched again and he pushed himself up to sit against the wall. A knock sounded at the door and Ryker turned to see one of his sailors. It was time, then.

He cast one last disdainful look back at his sick prisoner. He'd poured a little water into his palm and was gently dabbing it on the side of his head, wincing all the while.

"Don't bleed on my stuff," Ryker growled, then left to prepare for arrival at the base.

Chapter Text

Viggo watched with satisfaction as Ryker's ship arrived at the dock. He'd been gone for a few weeks on resource scouting missions (ore, fuel, and dragons, of course) and had been due to return a week ago. Hopefully he had found something useful out there.

Shouts echoed up from the docks. He didn't need to oversee the unloading of the ship; Ryker had it handled. He'd be summoned if he was needed and there was a pile of paperwork to finish off before meeting his brother and discussing his findings. He brushed some of the falling snow off his armor and returned to his desk.

His plans, however, were disrupted entirely when a runner from the docks showed up, out of breath. "Viggo, sir," he panted, hands braced on the back of the chair before Viggo's desk. "Ryker says he has news!"

"He can come and give it to me, can't he?" Viggo asked.

The runner shook his head. "He's stowing the dragon."

Viggo paused. Ryker wasn't responsible for catching dragons on this mission. "What dragon?"

"The Night Fury, sir!"

The words washed over Viggo like cold water. "The... Night Fury," he repeated.

"Yes, sir!" the runner said. He had his breath back by now and straightened up. "Ryker says--" he hesitated, then said "Ryker said he don't care what happens to the boy, though."

Viggo stood, a little faster than normal. "He captured the rider, too?"

"Yes, sir!" the runner said. "He's still at the docks."

Oh, Viggo would be having a few words with Ryker later. Right now, however, he had to go to the docks... "Take me there," he said to the runner, seizing his fur-lined cloak from the back of his own chair.

The docks were abustle with the business of unloading a ship and organizing its cargo, though the men each gave Viggo a respectful nod or "sir" as he passed. The runner led him up onto the ship and across the deck to a pile of crates. Leaning against them, snow beginning to pile around him, was Hiccup.

It was difficult to push down his elation, but Viggo managed it. Hiccup looked terrible. He acknowledged Viggo with a grimace but gave none of his usual wit. His skin was paler than usual, and he was hunched in on himself for warmth in the gently falling snow. His wrists were manacled in front of him.

"So good to see you again, Hiccup," Viggo said. He allowed himself a smile which Hiccup of course did not return. "Did my brother make the journey here enjoyable?"

"No," Hiccup said. Viggo raised an eyebrow; he sounded sick. Had he been out on a mission in this state? And had Ryker left him out in the snow all night? No, probably not. He would likely have looked much worse.

"I cannot imagine why he failed to do so," Viggo said dryly. "Come, you may warm up in my tent before you are brought to your lodgings."

Hiccup sneezed. "I think I'd rather stay here. Or put me with Toothless."

"Get him up," Viggo said to the runner who was still standing beside him. The man nodded and grabbed Hiccup's arms to pull him to his feet. Hiccup grunted in discontent and swayed as he was forced upright; alarm spiked in Viggo as he almost fell over.

"You can blame Ryker," Hiccup said with a grim smile. "His men almost left me for dead in the snow."

Yes, Viggo would certainly be having words with Ryker.

To his runner, Viggo said, "Fetch the key for the manacles and meet me at my tent." As the man left, Viggo stepped forward and took Hiccup by the arms. He noticed how his prisoner shifted uncomfortably and tried not to lean into him, but he was clearly weakened. His discomfort only increased as Viggo draped his cloak over his shoulders.

"Ryker sedated Toothless," Hiccup said. "What did he use? Dragonroot's worse for him. He'll be sick."

"I can't go telling you all my secrets," Viggo chided. He put an arm around Hiccup at chest-height to help him walk off the ship. Hiccup's steps were unsteady. "I will have your dragon checked on. We do, of course, make the antidote to dragonroot, so if it was dosed with that extract, we could counter it."

They made it off the ship and the dock activity subsided again as Viggo made his way through with his prisoner. The men were silent and staring, and Viggo could feel how uncomfortable that made Hiccup. Hiccup did, after all, have the chief's fine fur cloak wrapped around him and the chief preventing him from staggering.

The braziers were still putting out a great deal of welcome heat in Viggo's tent. He left Hiccup leaning against a tent-pole and dragged the chair from the front of his desk to sit near one of them. Hiccup collapsed into it. He looked worse after walking up from the docks; Viggo had been supporting much of his weight up the hill.

The runner had put the key on Viggo's desk, but left before his chief had returned. Viggo unlocked the freezing manacles. Hiccup immediately rubbed his wrists, hands shaking slightly. He'd shed Viggo's fine cloak as soon as he sat down.

"So," he said flatly. "Is it a ransom this time, or do you want the dragon eye lenses? If you want gold, write to Berk. My friends have the lenses, though."

"We can discuss it once you have thawed," Viggo said with a generous smile. He pulled his own chair over to sit across from Hiccup. "You sound ill."

"I'm fine," Hiccup said. He stifled another sneeze and wiped his nose on his tunic.

"I have a healing sage for my men," Viggo said. "I can have him see to you."

"Don't bother," Hiccup said coldly. "Just stick me in whatever cage you're going to keep me in until you get what you want." A tremor took him and he tensed his shoulders to try and stop it.

Viggo sighed. "I will not have you in such a state," he said. He went to stand before Hiccup and forced the cloak back around his shoulders, pinning it in place. Hiccup looked as if he wanted to shove Viggo away. He didn't; he likely realized that it was not a wise move in his position.

Viggo's runner was back. "Ryker says he'll be in to see you in an hour or two," he reported with a smart salute, ignoring Hiccup.

"Good," Viggo said. "Bring Osgrund to me." The runner saluted again and was gone.

Viggo didn't drink much, but hot wine was a luxury he enjoyed on frigid days like this. He poured himself a cup and did the same for Hiccup. Hiccup took it reluctantly but seemed to enjoy the heat seeping through the ceramic to warm his fingers.

They sat in silence as they waited for the runner to return. Hiccup slouched in the chair, color slowly returning to his cheeks. He wasn't drinking but still held the cup to warm his hands. He winced as he raked some of his hair out of his eyes; Viggo noticed bruising at his hairline. Hiccup watched him warily as he stood up.

"Did Ryker hit you?" Viggo asked. Hiccup tried to lean back in the chair away from him, but Viggo wasn't having it. He put one hand on Hiccup's shoulder and the other on his chin, angling his head to see it in the best light.

"No," Hiccup said through gritted teeth. His muscles were tense as rigging under Viggo's hand. "His men, when they caught us."

"And left you in the snow?" Viggo remembered. He frowned; Hiccup had clearly been bleeding.

"Wish they had," Hiccup snapped. He jerked his chin out of Viggo's hand and glared up at him. Viggo met his eyes steadily and Hiccup looked away.

"My sage will see to your injuries and give you what medicine you require," Viggo said. He returned to his chair and sat. "Whatever you may think of me, Hiccup, I do not hold with the mistreatment of prisoners."

Hiccup snorted. "That's news to me."

The runner had returned, the sage at his side. The sage had been a slave in Viggo's tribe, and had earned his freedom by learning to heal the sick. He still bore Viggo's crest on his back, but a tattoo across the scar proclaimed him to be free. He nodded to his chief in greeting.

"Ah, Osgrund," Viggo said. "My guest was hit in the head with--," he turned to Hiccup expectantly.

"A mace," Hiccup muttered.

"A mace, and he appears to be ill after being left in the snow for some time," Viggo continued. "I would be most grateful if you would see to him."

"Yes, sir," Osgrund said. He set his satchel of supplies on the ground and approached Hiccup, who was watching him unhappily. "Where'd you get hit?" Hiccup indicated the side of his head and hissed in pain as the healer prodded it. "Should heal up," Osgrund said dismissively. "Bleeding's stopped."

He reached into his satchel and fetched out some bottles and a cup. Into the cup, he poured a syrupy substance, then added some herbs from the other bottle. He mixed them, then took some of the heated wine and added that in as well.

"Drink that," he said to Hiccup, shoving it at him. "He should be fine by tomorrow," Osgrund said to Viggo over Hiccup's head. "If he stays warm and sleeps some."

"Thank you," Viggo said. He appreciated Osgrund's efficiency, and after the man had taken his leave, turned to Hiccup, who hadn't drunk the medicated wine. "Drink," Viggo commanded.

Hiccup cast him a foul look but obeyed. He winced at the taste but continued until the cup was empty. He showed Viggo. "Satisfied?"

"For the moment," Viggo said. He had a cot in his tent that he rarely used, but now he removed it from its storage and set it next to the brazier. Hiccup watched him pile furs on it. "You may rest here," Viggo said.

"I'm not sleeping here," Hiccup said firmly. "Put me in a cell." He hesitated as Viggo leveled a look at him.

"You will do as I say," Viggo told him. "You can hardly do otherwise."

Hiccup hesitated again, then scowled. "Fine." He stood unsteadily. Viggo took his arm and led him to the cot, then piled furs atop him. Hiccup still wore his cloak.

"When my sage deems you healthy, I will grant your wish for a cell," he said wryly. "Until then, do try and rest."

"Next time, leave me for dead," Hiccup grumbled.

Chapter Text

It was the last straw.

It had been a miserable week of failure after failure, mistake after mistake. It felt like his brain was being stewed every time he lost ground against Viggo. And all the problems were being laid at his feet.

Astrid had asked him what was wrong.

"I don't know, maybe it's that no one can fucking listen to what I say and everything is going to Hel and Viggo's about to win this war it's all my fault? Huh, what a fucking mystery!"

He wished he could have taken the words back as soon as he'd said them. It was the nauseating kind of regret that he knew would return to him in the small hours of the morning when he couldn't sleep. He almost slapped his hand over his mouth but he was frozen.

Astrid's eyes narrowed, her fists clenched at her sides. She took a deep breath and said in a voice that was calm due to an extreme effort, "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"Yeah," he said, not meeting her eyes. "Yeah. Th-that's probably good." He reached out and grabbed a charcoal pencil off his desk and spun it between his fingers. The nasty silence stretched between them as Hiccup felt worse and worse until he let out a half-sigh, half-groan and pressed his hands to his face. "Astrid, I'm sorry."

"Thank you," she said, her voice still tight and angry. "I didn't deserve that."

"No, you didn't," he said. "It's just..." he sank into his chair. "I'm under so much pressure, Astrid. The Viggo thing, my dad getting on my case about learning to be chief someday, everyone asking me to fix everything..."

She stood for a moment, then sat on the other side of his desk. "Yeah. It's a lot. Doesn't mean you can take it out on me. On us."

"I know," Hiccup moaned. "I'm sorry."

"I don't need you to apologize," Astrid said. "I just want you to... oh, maybe ask for help? If you crumble under the pressure, we're not going to be able to pick up the pieces. Let us help you carry this, okay?"

He looked up at her. She still looked mad, but managed a smile. "Okay," he said. "I promise. Do you--" he paused. "I mean, can we--?"

"Let's go flying," she said. Hiccup smiled.

Chapter Text

He hadn't even been struck yet and he was crying already. Pathetic, he knew. But he blundered on, wiping the tears from his face with hands of which he was acutely aware. He knew all too well that in ten minutes (probably less), he wouldn't even be able to lift those hands, let alone wipe his face, without agony.

His father had sent him out to select a branch from one of the trees that grew along the plaza. Hiccup was to choose one, bring it home, then hold perfectly still as his father brought the switch down across his palms. It was the punishment he'd known for years, ever since his father had decided that Hiccup was too soft.

And he'd really done it this time; one of his dragon-contraptions (Gobber's words; Hiccup thought of them as experiments) had malfunctioned and set the storehouse roof on fire. So much for turning fire on the dragons. He'd been screamed at in front of the entire village. His smoking experiment had been crushed. And now he was going to find his own punishment.

The trees were stubborn, tough things, accustomed to the constant salty air and permanent chill in Berk's air, and its branches were gnarled. Down near the base, saplings grew in naive hopeful bunches, delicate green leaves always living for a few days before browning and curling under a layer of frost.

With shaking hands, Hiccup grabbed one of the little saplings. He knew from experience that any switch his father chose would be ten times worse, so he chose one that Stoick would approve of. It was such an innocent-looking thing. He stripped it of its leaves and let them fall through his fingers.

In what felt like no time at all, he was tip-toeing through the door of his house. It slammed behind him from the wind picking up, and he flinched hard as it did. His father was standing, back to him, by the fire. He turned, however, looking as cold and angry as he ever did.

"Give it to me," Stoick said. His voice was dripping with disappointment. Hiccup fought the impulse to cringe and handed over the switch, watching numbly as his father examined it and then nodded. "Hold out your hands."

Oh, gods, Hiccup thought. How many strikes? He held out both hands, palms up and shaking.

The switch rose over their heads, then came down with a vicious swish.

CRACK.

Hiccup bit back a shriek as the welts rose on his hands; he knew better than to snatch his hands away now.

CRACK.

He couldn't stop it this time. The tears were back, pouring uncontrollably down his face. That didn't help, he was sure.

CRACK.

Stoick tossed the switch into the fire. Hiccup immediately clutched his hands to his chest and tried to stifle the sobs, not meeting his father's eyes. Stoick didn't look at him either; he turned and went into his own bedroom, leaving Hiccup kneeling at the hearth's edge as a different fire seared across his palms.

Chapter Text

He tried to sit up. He tried to scream. He tried to pull the blankets over his head.

And then the apparition was gone. Air rushed back into his lungs, his hands unclenched from the blanket. He realized tears were on his cheeks. Toothless raised his head, alarmed at Hiccup's choked gasps.

"I'm--," Hiccup tried to get himself under control. "I'm okay, bud."

Toothless huffed disbelief and plodded over to put his head in Hiccup's lap. Hiccup's racing heart slowed as he stroked the delicate scales around Toothless's eyes.

What was that... thing? He shuddered to recall it. It had been some sort of humanoid figure, but wrong in a way that made his skin crawl. Arms too long, shoulders too hunched, head tilted at an uncomfortable angle... He shuddered again and shook his own head to dispel the image. If Toothless hadn't reacted to the thing, then it hadn't really been there.

But why couldn't he move until it had vanished? It had been like being trapped in ice. As soon as it had vanished, he could move again. Why?

No use speculating on it all night. He lay back down, Toothless staying by his side, and tried to sleep again. It wasn't a restful night; he kept startling awake if his weary mind saw a shadow in the corner of the room.

He was short with the others riders in the morning and apologized after snapping at the twins more aggressively than was necessary. Fishlegs was fascinated at Hiccup's reason for sleeping badly.

"I've heard of this," he said excitedly. "People call these visions 'night terrors.' Oh... not like you guys!" he added to one of their dragon sentries, who'd squawked indignantly. "They're all in your head."

"I'd got that part," Hiccup said. "Is there any way to stop them? I don't want to see that thing again tonight."

"Hmm," Fishlegs said. "It might be stress..."

Hiccup snorted. "Oh well. Guess I'll be seeing a lot of it, then."

It appeared again that night. And the next. And the one after that. Hiccup lost track. The first few nights he sat bolt upright as soon as he had control, one night he shouted and Astrid came to see him, but after that he stifled any noises he made.

He resorted to catching naps throughout the day. The others would come to ask him a question and find him slumped over his desk, slouched against a wall, or sprawled on top of Toothless. He could hold back the exhaustion during fights with the hunters or other missions, but he was really starting to break down.

One night after a few months of this, Hiccup decided to stare at the thing crouching at the end of his bed. It gave him a thrill of terror, but it vanished after only a second of eye contact. It wasn't easy to sleep afterwards, but he managed.

Over the next week, he stared at the thing as soon as it appeared, banishing it almost as soon as it appeared. One night, it didn't appear at all.

"I think I figured it out!" he told Fishlegs.

"That's great!" Fishlegs beamed. "I hope you sleep better tonight."

So Hiccup was looking forward to sleeping that night for the first time in months. He patted Toothless on the head and settled, ready for a solid eight hours.

When he opened his eyes in the dark of night, the thing sat on his chest.

Chapter Text

He could stretch a little farther than he could the day before. His knee still refused to bend without screeching along his nerves, but he could almost reach to attach his prosthetic again. It really bothered him that he couldn't deal with it himself, but he had no choice in the matter.

He'd sprained his knee. It was icy and miserable on the Edge, which had led to his prosthetic slipping and now he was stuck in his hut constantly; both to recover and to avoid getting sick. It was driving him crazy, of course.

Toothless groaned as Hiccup called him over to fiddle with his harness rig for the third time today. Hiccup was experimenting with streamlined controls and more durable connecting rods and it involved a lot of prodding, twisting, poking, calibrating, and telling Toothless to stay as still as possible. Toothless hated it and this time, he refused to take himself off his warm stone.

"Toothless!" Hiccup called, irritated. "Come on, you big baby! I'm almost done with this model. Get down here, will you?"

A disgruntled moan wafted down from the loft.

"Bud, come on," Hiccup said. "Please?"

Another groan.

"Fine," Hiccup said. "I'll come up there to you!"

He pushed himself stiffly to his right foot and seized the crutch Fishlegs had forced upon him. He wasn't wearing his prosthetic to let his knee heal faster, and he wouldn't be able to walk on it even if he did wear it. The crutch clumped on the floor as he approached his stairs.

He was five steps up when the crutch slipped.

After a very crowded few seconds of tumbling and agony, he found himself sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, groaning. Toothless had shot to his feet and was staring in horror at his rider. Hiccup tried to move and shouted; his knee was throbbing.

Pushing himself to sit up was horrible. He was positively dizzy from the pain and his breath was coming short. Toothless whined and leapt down to try and help him sit up and licked Hiccup's face.

"Next time," Hiccup groaned, "please come down when I call you..." Toothless snorted and nudged him with his head. Hiccup gasped as the pain stabbed. "Godsdammit. What do you think, bud: one week or two of bedrest?"

Chapter Text

Whatever they had given him, they'd given him way too much. Not that Hiccup had much experience with tranquilizers or other poisons, but he knew instinctively that something was wrong.

Everything swam around him. Lights, color, noise, smells, all twisting and running like a canvas left in the rain. He wanted it to stop, but he couldn't do more than moan weakly as his body refused to respond. The impact of hitting the floor sent ripples through his confused mind.

"You idiot!" someone yelled. The noise rattled around Hiccup's head. "What did you do?"

"Drugged 'im, like you said," someone said, sounding confused. The voice wobbled oddly as Hiccup heard it.

"With that, that bottle you're holding there?!"

A crash, a scream, a gurgle. The smell of blood entered Hiccup's mental whirlwind as a hand gripped his chin. He stared uncomprehendingly at a face he half-recognized...

"Look, his pupils." The hand twisted Hiccup's head to the side to stare at another face he thought he knew. The sudden movement made him whine in discomfort; every touch was like a slap and his skin stung where the person's fingers dug in. "That fool used the undiluted extract. He's going to be out of it for hours!"

"Useless to interrogate," the other person agreed. "Has this serum of yours worked in the past, Johann?"

"Every time, when diluted properly," the first voice snapped. Hiccup was dropped to the floor and curled up, trying to avoid the overwhelming input from the world around him. He understood the words but had no idea if they were about him or who was speaking them.

A heavy sigh. "I'll drag him to a cell to sleep it off, I suppose."

"Send someone to clean up this mess," the first voice said. The sound of someone kicking something dense. "What an idiot."

Hiccup screwed up his face as someone grabbed him under the arms and started to drag him. The sensation of sliding along a rough floor was resonating around his head and making him feel sick; it was all he could do to not panic as the world spun by.

The harsh clanging of metal made him yelp, and so did hitting the floor unceremoniously. Metal crashed again and the voice chuckled. "Look at you. Enjoying the pretty visions? Who knows, you might be more fun to interrogate like this."

No, Hiccup wanted to moan. Leave me alone... it's too much...

He couldn't tell when the person left. He couldn't tell anything. Was he asleep? Dreaming? Were the distorted voices shouting nearby real or not? He thought he saw faces looking in at him but he blinked and they were merely shadows.

It was a wretched and interminable time. Was it ten minutes or several hours, he wondered... Every time he thought the disorienting symptoms had subsided, he'd shift, only to be sent back down a spiral of dizziness as the world swam again.

He must have been unconscious. It was all too much. When he opened his eyes again, everything seemed brighter, more vivid than it should. His own tunic's red almost glowed to his eyes. At least he could move his head without wanting to pass out again.

Outside the cell he'd been deposited in, Krogan and Johann were sneering at him. "Ah, you're back with us," Krogan said. He unlocked the cell and Hiccup winced at the sound.

"One of my men dosed you with an undiluted form of an extract I use to great effect in interrogations," Johann said. "I gather it has some interesting effects when taken at such concentrations. Did you enjoy your experience?"

"No," Hiccup managed. His voice was a rasp. He desperately wanted water.

"Too bad," Krogan said. He hauled Hiccup upright to drag him out of the cell. "Care to try it again?"

Chapter Text

At the Northern Markets, it was well-known you could buy whatever someone was willing to sell... and some people would sell anything for the right price.

The dragon-market was only one type of business that dealt in flesh, for example. Slaves were bought and sold there daily, though perhaps in some nod to decorum, the practice took place indoors and took some prior knowledge to find the merchants.

More temporary servitude, however, was openly flaunted on corners, between stalls, on the docks, in the pubs and inns, and almost anywhere there was a spare bit of ground to stand on.

Hiccup didn't meet the eyes of anyone he passed in the market; he was here on business and didn't like it. They'd run out of some of the rarer minerals he used in his smithy, and here was closer to the Edge than the other merchants he used to get them from. He'd left Toothless sleeping outside of town to be safe, but thankfully there weren't more than a few scattered hunters.

After slipping behind a stall to avoid a pair of hunters marching across the square, Hiccup prepared to find the man who'd have what he needed. He froze, however, as hands slid up his arms and across his chest.

"Ooh, who would you be?" a sly voice whispered in his ear. Perfume wafted over his shoulder as someone pressed themself to his back. "Haven't seen you around before..."

Hiccup extricated himself hastily and spun around to come face to face with a very pretty woman. He immediately flushed bright red. She laughed and grabbed one of his hands.

"Don't be shy!" she told him. "Come on, just come with me. It'll be fun."

"N-no, thanks," Hiccup stammered. "I- uh- I have a- um--,"

The woman put on an exaggerated pout. "Don't tell me you don't like what you see!" She was wearing a short dress with a tight bodice. She was positively spilling out the top. Hiccup felt his face get even hotter and tried to pull away, but suddenly there were more people around him. Two more pretty ladies and a young man in a thin shirt edged with lace had appeared and blocked his way back to the square.

"He's a sight for a lonely heart," one of the new women said. She ran a hand along Hiccup's arm and he pulled away.

"He'd be popular," the man said approvingly.

"Nothing like that," the first woman said reproachfully, still holding Hiccup's hand. "I wouldn't hand him over like that." She smiled up at him and moved closer. "I'd have him for myself."

Hiccup pulled his hand away and raised both in front of him. "Whoa, slow down! And let me out of here, please!"

"I'm going to get him," the man said, and vanished across the square, leaving Hiccup with the ladies.

"Now he's done it," one of the newcomers said bitterly. "You'd better leave now, Eydis, if you want him to yourself."

Eydis grabbed Hiccup's hand again. "Come on," she said, a note of slight urgency in her voice. "We need to go."

"I'm not going anywhere with any of you," Hiccup said. He pulled his hand away but she immediately seized it again and hung on.

"I'd go if I were you," one of the other women said to Hiccup. "I see him; he's on his way." She pointed and Hiccup saw the young man coming back across the market square with a gaunt, sickly-looking man in tow.

Eydis cursed. "Oh well. Sorry, handsome boy. You should've listened to me." And then the men joined them.

It was now quite cramped in this place between stalls, and Hiccup found himself being backed up against the wall of the adjacent building to make room for the newcomer.

The man was a harsh contrast to the others around Hiccup. He looked haggard and had a cruel glint in his eye as he cast what could only be called an appraising look over Hiccup, head to toe.

"Not a bad find," he said to the others without taking his eyes from Hiccup. "He's alone?"

"Think so," the young man said.

"Good thing you fetched me, Aulf," the man said. "Eydis, well done for finding him. You want to break the boy in?"

"Hold on," Hiccup said. He shook off Eydis again. "I don't want any part of this. Let me out of here!"

He staggered as the man slapped him across the face.

"Don't want talkative merchandise," the man said calmly. Eydis grabbed Hiccup's hand and stroked it as if to soothe him. "Already got Aulf for that. You can shut up and do as you're told, boy. I've a lot better use that mouth of yours can be put to, don't worry."

Hiccup stared at him, face stinging. Realization like ice was spilling through him; he suddenly felt very stupid for venturing out on his own. He had to get out of there. If he didn't...

He had a brief flash of what this man was clearly planning for him and the panic was enough for him to twist away from Eydis, dodge past the man (who moved like a snake and almost grabbed his arm), push as politely as he could between the two other women, and knock Aulf down before bursting out into the square. He staggered, regained his footing, and sprinted out of town.

Toothless was sleeping peacefully in a clearing but woke as Hiccup trudged towards him. He sent a sleepy questioning warble to his rider, then sat up and peered at him in greater concern. Hiccup was shaking.

"That could have been," he said, leaning against Toothless, "very bad. Very, very bad." Toothless nudged him and licked his face. "I'm okay, bud. I got away."

Some of Eydis' perfume clung to Hiccup. The scent made him feel sick and Toothless rumbled at his obvious discomfort and the unfamiliar scent. At least the delicate smell would soon be overpowered by Toothless's own comforting odor of fish, leather, and dragon.

"Let's go home," Hiccup said after a few minutes of calming down against Toothless's side. "I don't need those minerals. And I if I really do later, I'm going somewhere else."

They soared away over the markets and Hiccup was not at all sorry to leave them behind.

Chapter Text

Ah, Hiccup thought as he woke up. One of those days. Perfect. He wheezed and sat up, rubbing his sore eyes. His head felt like it was stuffed with wool. His nose, too. He sneezed and groaned.

A confused grumble came from Toothless's corner. This was first their spring together, Hiccup realized. Well. Toothless was about to learn how these days went. His eyes felt glued shut. He felt his dragon's breath on his face and shoved him gently. "Go 'way," he croaked. Oh, how I love spring.

Toothless grumbled again, this time sounding concerned. Hiccup was just about to shove him away again but found his arm being clamped in a gummy mouth. Toothless was tugging at him.

"Nooo," Hiccup moaned. "Can't..."

The damp pressure vanished from his arm and Hiccup slumped back. He just wanted to sleep until some of the pressure subsided from his head. It was miserable and he could barely sit up without his head pounding. Toothless moaned and Hiccup heard him pacing around.

Gothi had some sort of concoction she made to help with this. But there was no way he'd make it out of bed, let alone halfway across the island on Toothless.

Gods, flying would be a nightmare. The pollen-thick air, trying to see out of streaming eyes, sneezing so much he could barely get a breath in between... The joys of flying in springtime.

He cracked one eye open to see Toothless staring back at him. There was worry plainly on his dragon's face. "I'm fine," Hiccup croaked. "Just can't go out today." He coughed and stifled a sneeze. "Get dad?"

Toothless, bless him, understood and trundled off down the stairs. Hiccup scrubbed at his eyes. They felt overwarm and slightly swollen; normal for a bad day. He looked forward to the cool damp cloth that was sure to come, once his father was made aware.

Heavy-booted feet clumped up the stairs in a great hurry, and Hiccup forced his stinging eyes open to see his father, one hand pressed to his own chest, a look of deep relief on his face. "Oh, you're all right," Stoick sighed. He cast a glare at Toothless, who didn't look abashed as he emerged from behind Stoick. "The way he was acting, I was sure you were half-dead!"

"Nope," Hiccup replied. "Just feel like it." He sneezed again and lay back. "Ugh. I really wanted to go flying today..." Toothless groaned in sympathy.

"I'll fetch Gothi," Stoick said. "I'm sure she's got her hands full with anyone else feeling this way."

"It's always the worst the first time after winter," Hiccup grumbled.

"You'll feel a bit better soon for this," Stoick said. Hiccup heard him rummaging and the gentle splashing of him soaking cloth in the water bucket by Hiccup's bed. A wet and hairy strip of fabric was placed across Hiccup's eyes.

As good as it felt, Hiccup felt at it incredulously. "Is this one of my socks?!"

"A clean one," Stoick told him. "Be back soon." Hiccup heard him leave and Toothless settle back onto his stone with a grunt.

"One of my own socks," Hiccup grumbled. Toothless chuffed a laugh. "You don't even wear socks!" Hiccup told him. He got another chuffing in return.

Oh well. It did feel good, and it was better than nothing. Maybe with Gothi's medicine he could venture outside later and take a flight with Toothless. Spring wasn't so bad.

Chapter Text

When Alvin told Hiccup he'd regret not showing them how he trained dragons, Hiccup hadn't expected this. He'd been bracing for a light beating, maybe breaking his nose or other small bone, but not this.

His arms were bound behind his back, his prosthetic stolen, and he was put into a ring of braziers. They were shoved close enough to him that if he wobbled on his right foot, he'd hit them and surely be burned. Savage was busying himself with filling each brazier with coals and wood while Alvin leered at Hiccup.

"You're too kind," Hiccup said, attempting snark. "I was pretty chilly, but I think I can tough it out." Savage took out a chip of flint and started striking with his dagger. Sparks flew and Hiccup tried not to flinch as the first brazier sputtered to life.

"You've only got to tell us how to train dragons and swear allegiance to us, and we'll let you out," Alvin said sweetly (if such a thing was possible). "Keep lighting, Savage!"

"Yes, sir!" Savage made his way around the ring of braziers, lighting each and sneering as each flared. Hiccup tried not to show his fear and glared at him.

"That leg must be getting tired," Alvin said as the heat from the braziers increased. Sweat was rolling down Hiccup's face, despite the chill air. He regretted wearing his warmer vest, but how did he know he was going to get kidnapped in it?

"Nope," Hiccup said shortly. "Not tired at all." It was a lie, but the terror of falling against one of the glowing metal walls around him kept him upright... for now. He didn't want to think of what would happen if he fell.

"Not too hot, are you?" Savage sneered. "Still chilly?"

"Balmy," Hiccup snapped. He desperately wanted to wipe his face, shed his vest, and oh gods, he wanted to sit down, but he could only stand there and swelter.

"Remember," Alvin said. He held up Hiccup's prosthetic, which looked like a toy in his hand. "Just tell us and it stops."

"No."

Alvin shrugged. "More coal," he said to Savage, who leapt to obey. Hiccup coughed as acrid smoke rose from the braziers. He was sure his face was as sooty as it ever was from smithwork.

"Wasting all this fuel on me?" he managed through another cough.

"As soon as you crack, we'll have dragons to keep us warm," Savage gloated.

"Stay cold," Hiccup said. He flinched as one of the braziers popped and an ember soared out to hit the floor.

Gods, he was really melting now. Was his leg wobbling because he was terrified or because he wasn't used to the strain? Maybe it was the bad memories... surrounded by fire, falling towards certain death, waking up terribly burned all over his body...

He yelped as a spark popped and hit his vest. The dense wool repelled it, but it was too close for comfort. Linen like his tunic would catch a spark much too easily.

"Just tell me!" Alvin snapped. "You won't make it much longer!"

"Go to Niflheim," Hiccup spat, then swayed. The flames from the nearest brazier almost kissed his face.

Alvin growled in fury and reached over the flames to seize Hiccup by the vest. He lifted him bodily and Hiccup couldn't hold back a yell as his right leg hit one of the braziers.

Alvin dumped him on the floor and rounded on Savage. "Clean this mess up!" To Hiccup, curled up and wheezing on the stone floor, he snarled, "You're lucky I need you alive, runt. My next strategy won't be as gentle as this one, you hear?"

Oh, joy, Hiccup thought through the pain in his leg. Can't wait.

The next strategy was a classic: a good old-fashioned beating.

Blessedly, Hiccup kept all his teeth by sheltering his head as much as possible at the expense of his ribs and back. Savage liked kicking, and his boots were steel-capped.

After Hiccup was bruised and bleeding from his nose, Alvin leaned down and wrenched him up by the collar. "You changed your mind yet, boy?"

"No," Hiccup croaked. He spat blood at Alvin, who threw him back down with a disgusted shout. The impact with the floor made him yelp, then moan with pain. He just wanted to pass out... the pain would end if he was asleep...

"That's it," Alvin snarled. "Get the pliers."

Panic overrode Hiccup's exhaustion as Savage trotted back in with a pair of nasty-looking pliers. The stains on them might have been rust, but somehow Hiccup doubted it. Savage passed the pliers to Alvin and grappled Hiccup into sitting upright, forcing one hand out in front of him.

Alvin reached forward and took hold of the nail on Hiccup's thumb. Savage was gripping Hiccup behind the elbow and braced the position against his own body so Hiccup couldn't pull back.

"No," Hiccup gasped, breath coming short and jarring his battered ribs. "No, NO!"

"I don't have to do it," Alvin said. He pinched the nail almost tenderly. "You don't have to make me do it, boy. Just tell me what I want to know."

No, no, no, no... Hiccup was hyperventilating. He felt sick, sweat going cold and clammy on his skin, stomach roiling. The mere idea of the agony at what it would feel like made him want to pass out, but Savage was keeping him in place.

He jumped as Alvin started to tug. "NO!" The shriek was pulled from him in sheer panic and both Outcasts cackled. Alvin released his thumbnail and stuck the pliers in his belt.

"I'm waiting," Alvin said.

"I-I'll do it," Hiccup said. "I'll train them."

"Excellent!" Alvin said. "Savage, bring him to his new home and we start tomorrow. See you then, Hiccup!"

Hiccup held it together until he was in the cell, leg still missing. As soon as Savage had lost interest in teasing him, he pushed himself into a corner and buried his head in his arms to cry.

Chapter Text

At least the net wasn't metal. If it was metal, then Hookfang couldn't do what he now did: flame up and char the thing to bits, freeing the twins and Snotlout. Barf and Belch roared triumphantly and nudged at their riders to hop on and escape, but the twins didn't move.

Archers around the clearing had them pinned with crossbows and hunting bows, dragonroot arrows at the ready. Dragonroot didn't do much to a human except make them a bit sick, but an arrow in any part of the body was more than an inconvenience.

Hiccup shouted in frustration as he struggled with the net. A trap! How was it a trap?! His mind flashed to Dagur for an instant and shoved the thought away; he'd sacrificed himself for the riders in a trap once before. He'd burned all his bridges with Viggo long ago. There was no way he'd set this up. But the hunter he'd interrogated... a plant? That had to be it.

"Look what we have here!" a familiar voice drawled above him. Ryker. Perfect. The hunter approached and leered down at Hiccup and Astrid in their net. "The catch of the day." Behind Hiccup, Toothless snarled. Hiccup reached back and put a hand on his side; there were too many hunters. Far too many.

"Say the word," Astrid said to him. She'd managed to get her axe out and had a few ropes cut already.

"Anyone moves and my men shoot!" Ryker shouted, both at Astrid and the others. "I'm under orders not to kill anyone yet, so don't make me disobey!"

"Hiccup," Astrid hissed, but Hiccup was at a loss. Outnumbered, outweaponed, pinned down figuratively and literally. What could he do?

"Get them into cages," Ryker called to his men. "No dragons with riders, idiots!" Half a dozen hunters laid down their weapons and trotted forwards to seize Snotlout and the twins. Hookfang screeched furiously but didn't burn the ropes that were thrown around his neck to subdue him. Barf and Belch whined as they were shoved into a cage.

Astrid fought off the men who tugged the net off her and Hiccup, but Ryker marched over and seized her axe. Wrenching it from her hands, he threw it thirty feet away where it stuck in a tree. He shoved her, hard, towards the men who were waiting to grab her.

"No!" Hiccup struggled to his feet and made to charge Ryker, but the man was prepared for that and swept Hiccup off his feet with a back-handed swipe across his chest.

"Get them into a cage!" Ryker shouted at his men. They complied, dragging Snotlout and shoving the twins towards a spare dragon-cage that had been dragged up onto the beach. "Not you," he added to Hiccup as he sat up. "Have a little something for you first." He pulled a pair of linked manacles from his belt-pouch and snapped them around Hiccup's wrists.

"You know the others are still free," Hiccup said coldly. "Might as well leave us here before they come to set us free."

Ryker guffawed. "You mean that joke of a Gronkle-rider! Let him try, boy."

"I'm sure you remember Heather," Hiccup countered. "Does a Razorwhip bring back any pleasant memories?"

"Should have killed her when we had the chance," Ryker said nonchalantly. "And anyway, I think you'll find that not even a Razorwhip will save you lot once we've got you onboard." He glanced around to see that the other riders and were all caged. Two more cages sat unused. "Ah, perfect." He seized Hiccup by the armor and half-dragged him over to one, Toothless being prodded along by hunters behind them.

"Hiccup!" Astrid's face appeared between the bars of the cage now trundling down the hill to the docks.

"I'm okay!" Hiccup shouted back.

Ryker chuckled. "For now, maybe." He shoved Hiccup into the cage and locked the door. "Night Fury secure? Good. Let's move!"

There were five ships. Five! This had certainly all been a trap from the start. Three ships sat at anchor a little farther out, with two moored at the docks. The hunters were pushing the cage-carts containing the dragons onto the second ship. They'd just begun rolling the riders up the ramp behind them as Hiccup and Toothless reached the docks, Toothless's cage in front.

However, as they passed the first ship with Toothless, Hiccup's cage-pushers veered left sharply and started to go up the ramp. Hiccup's stomach lurched; he was being separated from the others?! He clutched the bars. "Guys!" The others were too far to hear him but Toothless heard the panic in his companion's voice and roared.

That must have caught the attention of the other riders; Hiccup heard them yelling but couldn't make it out. Toothless thrashed against the walls of his cage as he was pushed down the docks. Ryker laughed from behind Hiccup as the cage arrived on deck. Hiccup looked up to see Viggo standing near the helm. He was smirking. Big surprise. He turned to meet Ryker.

"The gold?" he asked. Hiccup's heart leapt; had there been some truth to the trap's set-up?

"Secure," Ryker grunted. "No sign of the other dragon riders. I think we should--"

"Don't think," Viggo said shortly. Hiccup wanted to laugh; Ryker clearly hated being bossed around by his younger brother. "Keep looking. They're out there." Viggo turned to look at Hiccup, whose stomach clenched. "And bring Hiccup to my chambers. I'd like to have a word with him."

That sounded bad. Very bad. Hiccup hated knowing that he was the only rider on this ship, that Toothless and all the others were separated from him, that he was truly on his own. How in Thor's name could two Gronkles and a Razorwhip take down five ships and rescue five riders and their dragons before Viggo decided to play dirty?

One of the hunters opened the cage and pulled Hiccup out to sprawl on the deck. He glared up at the men, who grinned nastily and left to stow the empty cage. The gangplank to the dock was still down. Could Hiccup make it off the ship and to safety before someone realized?

That idea was crushed as Ryker grabbed Hiccup by the back of the neck and dragged him upright. "Let's go, boy." Hunters pulled up the gangplank and Hiccup's heart sank. Time to see Viggo.

The last time he'd seen the man had been during the whole Straits of Baldr debacle. He'd only caught a glimpse of the Sea-Shocker-powered escape vessel. And before that... across a makeshift negotiation table on an island covered in poison. Oh, he'd been dreading the thought of being taken to Viggo when he was kidnapped for the bounty, but thankfully that nightmare had been forestalled.

Not so this time, it seemed.

Ryker shouldered open the door to the stairs that led below. "Scared, Haddock?"

"No," Hiccup snapped. Terrified was more like it, but if he said that aloud he must have lost his mind.

"That's fine," Ryker snorted. "You will be soon." He laughed as he seemed to remember something. "Ah, the look on your face when I handed over those rocks! Too bad your little friends showed up. Feel like making it easy for me and losing this again?" He kicked Hiccup's prosthetic and Hiccup staggered.

"You looked pretty scared yourself when Stoick showed up," Hiccup said. "Smells like you washed your pants since then." He yelped as Ryker smacked the back of his head.

The intricately carved door stood before them. Hiccup wondered how much of its gold ornamentation had been stolen from Berk. Ryker shoved it open and marched inside without knocking. Viggo was examining the map behind the desk but turned around as they entered, looking so smug it might hurt his cheeks.

"Please, sit," he said to Hiccup, gesturing to an uncomfortable-looking stool before his desk.

"I'll stand," Hiccup snapped. Ryker drew one of his jagged swords and brought it up under Hiccup's chin with a growl. Hiccup tried to lean away but Ryker shoved him forward to take the seat.

"Please forgive my brother," Viggo said smoothly. "He doesn't understand the concept of savoring victory." Once again, Ryker glared at his brother as he sheathed his sword and leaned back against the wall. "You and your dragon-riders could have spent months searching that island, and you still wouldn't have found my gold."

Hiccup glanced at the map, hoping for runes, however small, to give a clue, but the map was depressingly sparse on detail. It didn't even have-- the ruins. The old Viking ruins. Surely no cartographer would have missed the chance to denote those! Unless they weren't real ruins at all... His mind flashed back to the hunters and their tools...

"Well, you never know," Hiccup said, forcing a half-grin. "We might surprise you when you least expect it."

"Ah," Viggo said, leaning back in satisfaction. "You're referring to your impending rescue." His smirk was decidedly sinister. "Don't count on it, my boy." He peered out the porthole of his study. "We appear to be underway! I do hope your skulking friends took note of which ship you're on. It would be such a shame if this ship were to sink before it was searched."

"Don't act like you wouldn't drag me with you when you run away," Hiccup snapped. "There's a reason you didn't ask for my head on those bounty posters." Viggo wants to kill you himself, Ryker had said. But 'savoring victory'? That made Hiccup think it wouldn't be a simple as a crossbow to the forehead. His eyes caught the dagger on Viggo's desk.

The ship shook suddenly. Dust filtered down around them. Was that a battle cry outside? A muffled explosion? Men shouted throughout the ship and bells rang.

Viggo smiled. "Look," he said. "There are you friends now, coming to save you. Such loyalty!" He smirked at Ryker. "I can hardly keep my own brother focused and on task."

Ryker snarled; if he didn't hate Hiccup more than Viggo, it wouldn't have surprised Hiccup if he snapped.

"What are you getting at, Viggo?" Hiccup said. Through the porthole, he could see Dagur smashing into the other ships. To his horror, however, Hiccup realized that their ship was veering far from the other four. Was Viggo making a run for it and taking Hiccup along?

Viggo stood and approached Hiccup. "Do you really think," he said, voice low, "that after all we've been through, that I'd expose myself without some added protection?" He put a hand on Hiccup's shoulder and forced him up, guiding him to the porthole. "You're about to have a front-row seat to the deaths of your riders and their dragons."

Terror washed over Hiccup; was this it? Would Viggo let the other ships sink, Toothless and the others still onboard, and shoot down the three remaining riders?

A blast shook the ship and it lurched violently. Hiccup was thrown across the room into Ryker, who'd hit the wall. Viggo only stayed upright by gripping his desk. Ryker made a grab for Hiccup, but Hiccup had already scrambled away as the ship righted itself.

"Get him!" Viggo shouted at Ryker, who drew one of his swords and threw it, end over end, after Hiccup. Hiccup jerked aside as it buried itself in the door-frame and sprinted away, leaning low to avoid the other sword if it came after him.

"Gotta get out, gotta get on deck," he muttered, desperately trying to remember the way to the ship's topside. Hunters were running about in dismay; part of one wall had been blasted and they were trying to patch it. Thankfully they were too busy to notice him. The ones on deck weren't, though.

He groaned as two sighted him and shouted, advancing with weapons drawn. He turned, only to find another three bearing down from the other side. Ryker burst from a nearby door; there must have been a shorter way to the deck that Hiccup had missed. Viggo's orders be damned, he swung at Hiccup with his remaining sword.

Hiccup threw up his hands instinctively and felt the blade catch on the bar that connected the manacles. It hurt like the blazes; he'd have bruises around each wrist from the impact for sure, but one of the links broke under the blow. "Ha! Thanks!" Hiccup cried, and dodged Ryker's next strike to clamber up to the helm.

On another ship, the riders burst forth. They'd gotten to their dragons! Hiccup could have sighed with relief, if it wasn't for the fact that Toothless was cornered. He roared at the hunters closing in on him. Behind Hiccup, Ryker was advancing.

There was nothing for it.

"Toothless!" Hiccup shouted, knowing his dragon would hear him. There was a rope to his left on a swiveling yardarm, if he could just... and then he was soaring, and Toothless was leaping to meet him.

They met under the surface of the water and Hiccup connected to the prosthetic rig immediately. Toothless surged upwards and a huge spray of plasma and seawater heralded their triumphant escape. Hiccup whooped as they spiraled upwards to meet the others, shaking water out of his hair. "YES!"

The others cheered as they circled around. Hiccup signaled to land on the island but glanced back as the others did. Viggo's flagship was still floating fairly well, and beating a hasty retreat.

What had Viggo meant by separating Hiccup from the others? He'd do it again if he got the chance... So Hiccup had better not give him one. Toothless warbled in concern and Hiccup rubbed his head, noticing as he did so that one of the manacles still encircled his right wrist. A quick glance showed him the other on his left. He'd have to deal with that later...

"I'm okay, bud," he said. "And don't worry: things are about to get a whole lot better." They spiraled down towards the fake ruins.

Chapter Text

It wasn't easy to remove steel bands from around your wrists when you had inconveniently important veins right under the very thin skin there. Especially if you were the only smith around and had to do it to yourself.

"Well, we're going to Berk anyway," Snotlout pointed out as Hiccup slouched in his chair after an unsuccessful attempt to break the metal cuffs still around his wrists from being captured by the Grimborns (again). "We have to bring the gold back."

Hiccup opened his mouth and then closed it again. Was it worth the effort to explain how he felt about seeing his father under these circumstances? Probably not to Snotlout. He set aside his tools. "Guess so. You guys have it all packed?" Snotlout jerked a thumb to the bulging sacks along the wall of the stables; each dragon was going to be carrying the weight proportionate to their body size. Hiccup didn't want any of them to get tired and drop the gold into the ocean.

"First thing in the morning," Snotlout said. Hiccup raised an eyebrow. Snotlout rolled his eyes. "Fine. Fourth thing in the morning." He grabbed the hammer from Hiccup. "Sure you don't want me to chop those off you?"

Hiccup snatched his hands off the table and held them behind his back. "Yes!"

"Kidding," Snotlout said. He tossed the hammer back onto the table and strolled away.

Toothless chuffed at Hiccup. "I know," Hiccup said. "Dinner's coming." As he stood up, the remaining link of chain jingled on one manacle. It grated against Hiccup's nerves all evening as he fed Toothless, helped with cooking the riders' dinner, and ate in silence with the rest.

It was a bittersweet evening; The lingering excitement of bankrupting Viggo and regaining Berk's gold a hundred-fold was tainted by Heather's departure. For Hiccup personally, it was tainted by the extremely tangible reminder of the helplessness of being captured stuck fast around his wrists.

No one spoke much, but there wasn't much to say so it didn't feel hostile. Everyone was exhausted. Hiccup mentioned an early night and the others practically melted away, leaving him and Astrid in the clubhouse.

"Hey," she said, stifling a yawn. "Any luck?"

He held out his wrists with a jingle. "Nope."

She took one of his hands in hers and examined the various scratches and shallow gouges he'd managed to inflict on the metal. She winced at matching marks on his skin from where he'd slipped. "At least they're not connected," she said.

"Thank you, Ryker!" Hiccup said, gesturing to the heavens. Astrid laughed.

"Get some sleep," she told him. "Early start."

"Not if Snotlout has anything to say about it," he joked. "G'night." Toothless stretched and yawned, then followed Hiccup back to their hut.

It was an annoying and tricky business to tug the sleeve of his tunic out from under one of the cuffs as he changed for bed. He probably could have slept in the tunic, but he wanted the smell of dragon hunter ships off of him. He briefly considered cutting the offending sleeve but managed to wrench free.

Toothless grumbled contentedly as he settled down. Hiccup took longer to relax; the link of chain jingled every time he moved. He tried to ignore it and the memories of being captured and separated from the others. Dark suspicions of why Viggo had brought Hiccup and only Hiccup onto his personal ship floated in his mind, but he pushed them aside.

Sleep wasn't restful or swift, but eventually he was able to slip away until morning. He roused Toothless and met the others at the stables. "Morning," he said. "Let's get loaded up. Everyone sleep okay?"

"Feeling fresh as a daisy!" Tuffnut said happily. "Can't wait have some actual good cooking once we get home."

"I miss Heather already," Ruffnut sighed.

"You said that three times on the flight home yesterday," Astrid snapped.

The load-up of the gold was fairly smooth, and while the dragons complained at having to pull so much weight, Hiccup knew they'd warm up to it and feel fine. It was a ten-hour flight direct to Berk, so the riders would have to eat in the air. They'd stop on a predetermined island so the dragons could dive for fish, then set out again. With luck they'd arrive before nightfall.

And so they did, sighting Berk from afar not long before dusk. The dragons were flying slower than usual due to the weight, but they knew that Berk meant being pampered for at least a few days and wanted to land as much as the riders did.

"Up at the Hall!" Hiccup called, and led the way to drop off Toothless's cargo at the doorstep of the hall. He detached it and immediately flew down to the plaza to meet his father and make room for Stormfly and Astrid to unload.

"Hiccup!" Stoick called, beaming and bemused. "You didn't send word you were coming. Is everything all right?" His expression faltered but Hiccup grinned to reassure him.

"It's more than all right," he said.

"What's all this?" Stoick asked as Hookfang soared in to drop his portion.

"Oh, you know," Hiccup said, brimming with excitement. "Just the vast majority of Viggo Grimborn's gold." He laughed as his father's mouth fell open and then wheezed as he was caught up in a massive, crushing bear-hug. Some of the Vikings meandering around the plaza had overheard and started cheering, especially when Snotlout fished out a fist-sized nugget and held it up in the setting sunlight.

"Hiccup," Stoick tried to say, then shook his head. "I-- I cannot find the words."

"You don't have to," Hiccup said, and they embraced again, more gently.

"Tell me everything," Stoick said, moving to grip his son's hands. His fingers hit the cuff and he looked down, alarmed.

"Eh," Hiccup said uncomfortably. "Not yet. Can we talk to Gobber first?"

Gobber raised his eyebrows as Hiccup and Stoick arrived at the forge. "Did I hear that right? You bankrupted the bastard?"

"Or at least severely inconvenienced him," Hiccup said. "Not without some minor issues..." He held up his wrists.

"'Minor issues,' he says," Stoick said. "We got him back from those devils not even two moons ago, and already he's getting caught by them again."

"Hey, it's not my fault it was a trap!" Hiccup protested.

"Here," Gobber said, raising a sharp chisel and his hammer-hand. "Brace against the edge of that anvil." Hiccup obeyed, hand in the air and metal resting on the anvil, and watched nervously as Gobber positioned the chisel on top of the band. "Won't be a moment," Gobber said with a wink.

CHUNK. The chisel bit through the band neatly. Hiccup grabbed a pair of pliers and passed them to Gobber, who wedged them into the new gap and opened them to force it wider.

Hiccup sighed in relief as the remains of the cuff fell away. "Thanks, Gobber."

"Next one," Gobber prompted, and Hiccup turned to put the other cuff in the same position as the other. Another CHUNK and struggle with the pliers and Hiccup was free. "That's better!"

"it certainly is," Stoick said. "The gold's already being moved to our vaults." The caves behind the Hall were well-fortified and could withstand raiders and pirates; Hiccup had no doubt the hunters would fail to breach them too. "Now, Hiccup: tell how you got that gold."

"Over dinner," Hiccup promised. He turned to the riders. Most of them were greeting their families but Snotlout was, predictably, bragging to anyone who would listen about how he'd wrested all of the evil hunters' riches from them. "See you tomorrow," Hiccup called to the others. He followed Stoick to their home, Toothless in their wake.

He didn't tell his father everything. He decided not to mention that he'd been separated from the others. Or that Viggo had intended for all the riders and dragons to die. Stoick looked unsettled enough as it was.

"You know I'm beyond grateful and proud," he began, hands holding his bowl of stew a little too tightly, "and that I don't doubt your ingenuity."

"But?" Hiccup guessed.

"But," Stoick said, "it pains me to know what danger you're in, son. I know I needn't tell you that Viggo isn't going to take this lying down. You'll be his main target again."

"I know," Hiccup said. "But we're ready for that."

"And if it turns out that you aren't, Berk is behind you all the way," Stoick said. "We're in this together, son."

"I know, dad. Thanks." Hiccup smiled to dispel the thoughts of what Viggo could be planning as revenge. None of them were good and he didn't want to taint the mood further. He'd dwell unhappily on them later, but his father was right: he wasn't alone.

Chapter Text

The hand closed over his mouth as he took in breath to scream.

"None of that," murmured Viggo. "Can't have this moment spoiled, my dear." The other hand roved down over Hiccup's chest, tugging at the straps and buckles that held his armor in place. "You're locked up like a chest of gold," Viggo chuckled in his ear. "And twice as valuable to me." He'd snuck up behind Hiccup in his own hut. He must have escaped the stables. Those facts were not the most important at the moment, however.

Hiccup opened his mouth behind Viggo's hand to bite, but Viggo anticipated it and shifted to hold Hiccup's throat instead. He used Hiccup's momentary panic to force him up against his desk and shoved him face-down across it.

"If you do not do exactly what I say, I will leave this island with the Dragon Eye and you will be on your own against my brother," Viggo said. "Do you understand? You, your friends, your allies, and every dragon Ryker can get his hands on will die." He leaned forward and moved his hand from Hiccup's throat into his hair. "Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes," Hiccup managed. His throat felt tight, as if Viggo's hand was still there. He couldn't shift; Viggo was using his own body-weight to keep him still. They were pressed against each other, back to front. He knew Viggo could feel his chest heaving with panic, feel the tension in his muscles.

"Good," Viggo said with satisfaction. "Flip over." He released Hiccup's hair but kept his arms in place on either side of Hiccup so he couldn't break loose. Hiccup obeyed, now standing with the edge of his desk cutting into his back. He was distracted from this discomfort, however, as Viggo pressed closer to him. He knew Viggo was more physically imposing than himself, but Toothless always leveled the playing field.

Toothless! Where was Toothless? Had Viggo slipped him something? Was he sick, dying? Why wasn't he coming to Hiccup's aid? Wherever he was, it was clear to Hiccup: no help was coming. Hiccup was alone.

Panic flooded him as Viggo used his knee to knock Hiccup's legs apart and stand even closer, barely a breath away from his face. Viggo's deep eyes were burning in the dark of the hut. Hiccup had never seen him look so intense. That look only increased as he put his hands on Hiccup. One on his waist, one on his face.

"Remember," Viggo rumbled. "Obey me or you lose everything."

And then he closed the distance. Hiccup's whole body tensed, fists clenching and shoulders rising as Viggo pressed his lips to his own. The sensation was totally alien, nothing like the sweet kisses he stole with Astrid. There was force behind this, not to mention the scratching of Viggo's beard against his face. Hiccup put his hands on Viggo's chest to shove as hard as he could, but Viggo felt it coming once again and pulled Hiccup closer. The hand on his face turned harsh and the sting of a nail made Hiccup wince against Viggo's lips.

Viggo pulled back. "You've been tempting to me ever since I reclaimed the Dragon Eye. Seeing you frozen was a hard thing to resist." He chuckled and the sound turned Hiccup's stomach. He couldn't meet Viggo's eyes. "But I bided my time. I had nothing to hold you to before, but now I do." His thumb ran across Hiccup's cheek almost tenderly. "Now you've no choice. Do you want to save your friends, Hiccup? Do you?"

"Yes," Hiccup said. His voice didn't sound like his own. The smile on Viggo's face made him feel sick. It felt like his body was turning to stone where he stood, from his feet up.

"Good." Viggo's thumb strayed down Hiccup's cheek to rest on his lips. "I assure you: you'll prefer this to crossing me." He leaned forward and kissed Hiccup.

Hiccup stiffened again. He wanted to struggle, but Viggo had tight hold of him... but not on his arms. He reached backwards and scrabbled across his projects and possessions, trying not to make a noise, until his fingers hit--

He seized the handle and drove the blade up against Viggo's chin, so close to his own. It met resistance, which yielded. Viggo's hands tightened like vises on Hiccup's face and at his back. A horrible noise turned out to be Viggo trying to draw breath. He couldn't.

Hiccup gaped in horror as crimson flowed from Viggo's throat. The dark eyes, which had so recently gleamed with grim pleasure, were now wide in panic. The hands released to clasp at the jagged slash that crossed from one side of the jaw to the other, under his chin.

"No!" Hiccup gasped. He threw the short knife aside and tried to stem the flow with his own hands. "N-no, Viggo! I didn't mean to!" He'd just wanted to threaten him, to force him to back off and stop kissing him. But Viggo had pressed forward into the kiss just as Hiccup lifted the knife. And now...

One of Viggo's hands came free and seized Hiccup's. It was shaking. His jaw was clamped shut, his eyes were wild and pinned on Hiccup's, then his knees gave out. Hiccup was dragged down next to Viggo as he collapsed.

Hiccup couldn't catch his own breath. How bad was the wound? Could he stop the bleeding? Both of them were drenched in blood that almost burned where it touched. Viggo's hand was so tight on his own he worried his bones would bend.

"No, no, no," Hiccup hissed. "I didn't want this to happen! Viggo, I--" He couldn't force himself to say he was sorry, not with all that had happened between them, but this... bleeding out in Hiccup's arms was hardly the way Viggo had probably imagined dying.

It seemed to take no time at all for the blood to stop flowing. Hiccup could only stare at Viggo's eyes as something left them. The hand on his slackened and sensation returned. Hiccup stared for another few moments, then pushed the body away to stand. He was covered in blood. The smell of it choked him and he pressed one hand to his mouth, then jerked it away because that only made it worse.

What was he going to tell the riders? And Toothless was still gone! Oh, gods... what a mess. He felt tears burning his eyes. But why? He'd thought about killing Viggo before. Not like this, though: not with his own hands at such close and... intimate range. He trembled and closed his eyes. Find Toothless. He'd feel more equal to facing it all with his soulmate at his side.

A cold hand gripped his ankle.

Hiccup sat bolt-upright, a shout he couldn't hold back making Toothless sit up just as fast. Reality caught up to Hiccup as he gasped, trying to stop his heart from beating out of his chest and possibly exploding. Nightmare nightmare nightmare. Not real. Not real. He squinted at his hands in the dark. They were shaking uncontrollably, but were unstained by Viggo's blood.

Toothless whined and ambled over to Hiccup's bed. Residual terror melted as Hiccup pressed their foreheads together. The memory of Viggo's dead eyes staring up at him while his hand clutched his ankle made him shudder all over. He smiled, however, as Toothless's tongue swept over his face.

"I'm okay," he whispered to his dragon. "It was just a dream, bud. Didn't mean to wake you."

Toothless's eyes conveyed his meaning; Just a dream, oh yes, I'm sure. You're still shaking.

"I'm fine," Hiccup insisted without conviction. "Go back to sleep." He groaned as Toothless, unamused, crawled up onto the bed to share. He only really did that if Hiccup was ill or injured, but lately after increasing nightmares he'd taken to sharing (and hogging) Hiccup's bed.

Hiccup sighed and leaned back. He didn't really mind Toothless coming to comfort him. After the fog of the nightmare, the situation was returning to him. Tomorrow morning, he'd have to face Viggo. Would he be able to shake the image of his dead eyes? All that blood? The ragged gash in his neck? And worse yet, the treacherous memory of Viggo's lips on his.

Seeming to sense Hiccup's internal turmoil, Toothless huffed and began to purr. It wasn't quite like a cat's, but it soothed Hiccup like nothing else. Soon, his eyes were closing again.

He slept without dreams.

Chapter Text

Hiccup gave one last heave and sighed. No, the barrel was not moving. Toothless was off with his new friend (he still hadn't fixed the Light Fury's name in his mind), Stormfly was off helping pull in the day's catch of fish, his human friends were all off dealing with their own affairs, Astrid had the kids inside because it was cold...

So Hiccup was on his own to grapple with the barrel.

He'd tried rolling it, but the house was uphill from the stores. He might have been able to drag it, if he had any ropes to rig it with, and even then it wasn't a great idea when it had snowed recently. His leg was pretty good, but not quite good enough to brace against the weight of a full barrel of grain.

Pushing it was the same issue; he slid backwards on the path until he came to rest against the storehouse's wall. He blew his hair out of his eyes, frustrated, and glared at the barrel. It didn't react, of course. Hiccup gritted his teeth and braced himself behind the barrel once again. His fingers were aching in the cold, but the sooner he got the barrel back home, the sooner he could warm up by the fire.

He made it halfway up the slope before his foot slipped and the barrel started rolling back towards him. He yelped and tried to get out of the way but it rolled over his prosthetic, which pushed it out of alignment to stab against his leg. He could only watch as the barrel rolled away, then bumped into a snoozing Monstrous Nightmare that had been lying in between two houses. It woke and glared at Hiccup, who groaned. He adjusted his leg so he could walk, wincing, over to the dragon. It allowed him to place his hand on its head.

"I'm sorry, he told it. "Can you help me carry this thing?"

With a long-suffering snort, the Nightmare drew itself to its feet (as a juvenile it wasn't much larger than Toothless), spread its purple-green wings, and seized the barrel in its clawed feet. Hiccup pointed up the hill to his and Astrid's home, and the Nightmare flapped away with its burden.

Hiccup tried to catch up, slipping on the compacted snow, and made it to the house just as Astrid opened the door with a confused look.

"Hi," he panted, leaning on the porch railing. The Nightmare was helping itself to a couple of fish from the basin they left out to feed stray dragons. "Here's, uh, that barrel."

"Thanks," Astrid said. "Could you get it to the kitchen?" Zephyr was cuddled in the crook of one arm, Nuffink's tiny pink face showing over Astrid shoulder.

"Uh," Hiccup said. His leg ached where the barrel had hit him. His fingers felt like ice. Astrid, bless her, understood at once.

"Here," she said. She set Zephyr down, much to the girl's dismay, and undid the wrap holding Nuffink to her back.

"Thanks," Hiccup said gratefully as he took their son. Zephyr tugged at his pants until he hefted her in his other arm, then went inside to make room as Astrid hefted the barrel easily and moved it to the stores.

He felt his face heat as the muscles across her back rippled, and it wasn't just because of the lovely roaring fire. As he usually was, about once a week, Hiccup was struck by how lucky he was to have Astrid. She turned to take the kids back and saw him gazing at her.

"What?" she said, grinning and pushing some hair from her face. "You've seen me do that plenty."

"Never gets old," he said, grinning back. "Is it their nap-time yet?" He winked and she blushed.

"Nope," she said. "But I'll take a kiss anyway."

Later that night, as they were cuddled together after putting the kids to bed, Hiccup remembered how she'd lifted that barrel that was easily Hiccup's weight, probably more. It wasn't that he himself wasn't strong; he kept up his sword-fighting and flying with Toothless, but Astrid... well, she was just stronger. He did like it, in fact he loved it, but sometimes it brought back unpleasant little stirrings from his youth.

Weak Hiccup, scrawny Hiccup, small, frail, pathetic Hiccup.

He hadn't heard those words in over a decade. It was funny how much a huge snarling beast that had a deep connection with you would change the way others treated you. He'd proved them wrong in his own right too, but, well... things could really stick in the mind.

Astrid shifted in her sleep and pulled Hiccup closer. He sighed, burying his nose in her hair. It didn't really matter, anyway. He knew Astrid didn't think less of him, even if she poked fun occasionally. That was what made them such a good team, after all. He was happy to let her be the brawn to his brains, especially when the view was so nice.

Chapter Text

It wasn't like he'd ever been the best of friends with Mildew. The crotchety old man made no secret that he hated Hiccup and Toothless, even more than the rest of the kids and dragons. Every time Hiccup succeeded at furthering the relationship between Berk and the dragons, there was Mildew, growling and cursing and complaining, poisoning the well against them. Hiccup thanked the gods that Stoick was usually on his side, but now things were different.

It had been a neat little trap from the start, from the hidden note to the map to the decoy Night Fury and its roar. It had been planned from the first. All of it had been set up specifically to snare Hiccup and Toothless and it had gone off flawlessly. Toothless was secured to the cart and muzzled, and Hiccup was bound and thrown down next to him. Hitting the cart sent a jolt of pain through Hiccup and he bit his lip; his ribs ached from being crushed to the ground.

Alvin went about the business of setting sail. It was more important than tormenting Hiccup, so he left Mildew to do it. The scrawny old man leaned down, leering at Hiccup. His smell of rotting cabbage and sheep shit engulfed Hiccup.

"Feeling stupid yet, boy?" he asked. Fungus the sheep agitated to be released so Mildew set him down between them. "You walked right into it."

"You said that already," Hiccup snapped. He did feel stupid, too. It stung harshly to have a whole island of Night Furies snatched away from him at the last moment. To have it revealed to be an intricately crafted lie. And Mildew had known it. He had known what would drive Hiccup away from the others. He'd known exactly what little nudges to give to send Hiccup and Toothless out on their own... right into Alvin's hands.

Toothless could sense Hiccup's distress and groaned, butting him gently with his head. The touch was grounding, but Mildew grabbed Hiccup by the arm and jerked him away from the cart.

"No touching," Mildew growled. "You get to stay put, runt!"

"If I'm a runt, what does that make you?" Hiccup snapped. That little remark resulted in a hard shove.

"Shut up," Mildew snarled. "You want to hear what Alvin's going to do to your beast?"

"No," Hiccup said.

Mildew laughed. "Too bad! If you don't train the dragons, he'll cut off the other fin!" Horror slammed into Hiccup's chest like a battering ram, but Mildew didn't let him catch his breath. "And if that don't work, then it's his wings!" he cackled. "One at a time."

"Stop it," Hiccup said. He couldn't stop his voice from shaking.

"Why?" Mildew jeered. "Don't like to hear it?"

"I don't get it," Hiccup said, trying to distract him. "Why are you turning traitor, Mildew? Berk's your home--"

"And what has Berk ever done for me?" Mildew asked furiously, leaning in so close that Hiccup coughed on his smell. "Always cast me aside, treated me like some sort of outcast! Well, now I am an Outcast, right and proper!"

"I still don't understand," Hiccup tried. "Berk is your home, Mildew; it's where you belong."

Mildew laughed. "As if I'd stay where I'm not wanted! No, I'd much rather help Alvin destroy Berk once and for all! It's not the place I knew, the place it used to be before you and your dragon." He spat onto the cart, missing Toothless by inches. "I'll gladly burn that new dung-heap to the ground."

The vitriol in Mildew's voice was unnerving to Hiccup. How long had this man been stewing on this rage? How long had he been planning to do this? And how deep did his betrayal go? Had he done something on Berk before he left? Rigged a trap to spring on anyone who came looking for him? Had he spread lies about where Hiccup was going?

"I'm going to enjoy seeing you and your dragon get just what you deserve," Mildew snarled. He smacked Hiccup with the end of his staff and marched off, Fungus trotting behind him.

Fear welled in Hiccup; would the others know where to look? He'd left his notebook with the map, thank the gods. But how long would it take them to reach this island? And... gods, what if there was no trace? No clue as to what happened. No sign of who'd taken them. No hope at all.

Tears stung his eyes and he did his best to wipe them on his shoulder before Mildew or anyone else noticed. The last thing he needed now was to be seen crying at his predicament. No, he needed to stay strong. If he showed any weakness at all, he was done for.

Chapter Text

Humans didn't have hackles, but Hiccup would have raised his if he had them. He did the best he could by hunching his shoulders. It was like fingers were dancing across his back, the space between his shoulder-blades tickling unpleasantly. And there was no reason for it.

Well, not no reason, but no current reason. He and the others were visiting the Northern Markets on an emergency supply run. They'd been on an exploratory mission far from the Edge, but their food-pack had been raided by a pack of boars on the last island when they'd left them behind. It had come as a surprise to all of them that the local Changewings were collaborating with the boars to scavenge as much as possible. That had included the riders' supplies, and now they were very hungry indeed.

Astrid, Snotlout, and the shopkeeper were bargaining with a definite combative overtone, Fishlegs was bickering with the twins, and Hiccup was keeping a close watch on the people milling around the market square.

There weren't many hunters, thankfully. Hiccup had positioned himself behind a few crates so that his recognizable foot was concealed. A few people had glanced at him and the riders but moved on without interest. Still, Hiccup was vastly unsettled by merely wandering into the markets. They'd had to leave the dragons out in the surrounding forest, so their best chance (if recognized) was to run away. Not a courageous strategy, but they needed the supplies. They'd run low at the Edge, too, and Berk and its allies were too far away.

"We're done." Astrid's voice made Hiccup jump. "Ready to leave?"

"Wait!" Tuffnut dodged around Fishlegs and ran up to Hiccup. "Can we please, please have a meal in the tavern before we go?" He stuck out his lower lip to beg; Ruffnut followed suit and batted her eyelashes at him.

Hiccup considered. It meant spending much more time around people who might recognize them, and also would cost at least twice what he wanted to pay.

Snotlout snorted when Hiccup said this. "As if we didn't just get more gold than Thor could shake a stick at."

"Viggo's gold," Hiccup reminded him. "Somehow I don't think we're on the Snoggletog cards list." He cast a look around the square; they were still being left alone. "Might be smart to lie low for a bit?"

"I think it would do us some good," Astrid said. Hiccup gave her a pained look and she shrugged.

"Fine," Hiccup said. "Let's vote. Those in favor of a meal at the tavern before we go?"

Seven hands shot up; Ruff and Tuff raised both of theirs enthusiastically. Hiccup sighed.

"It'll be fine," Astrid said.

"And maybe we can get some ideas of what to cook at home," Fishlegs offered. "Mutton-fishbone-pea stew isn't, um..." he winced as Astrid glared at him. "Just a thought!"

"Come on!" Snotlout shouldered one of the sacks of supplies and led the way to the nearest alehouse, the twins on his tail.

It was cramped and stuffy inside which did nothing to settle Hiccup's nerves. The proprietor gave them an uninterested grunt as Hiccup stepped up to the bar.

"Six meals for us, please," Hiccup said. Snotlout coughed pointedly. Hiccup rolled his eyes. "Drinks?" he asked.

"An ale each for me and her," Tuff said excitedly.

"Me too," Snotlout said.

"Do you have any wine?" Astrid asked.

"I'll have some too," Fishlegs said.

The innkeeper sighed and ticked off the orders on his fingers. "Three ales, two wines, six meals?" he asked Hiccup, who nodded. "Three gold pieces for the meals. Three silver for the ales, and five for the wine."

Hiccup clenched his jaw; that was much more than he wanted to pay but he didn't have much choice. He took out the money-pouch and counted out the coins, trying not to show how many of those inside were gold. They hadn't had the chance to change many of them for silver yet. The Innkeeper took the coin and nodded to an empty table nearby. To Hiccup's private dismay, it was near the middle of the room and offered no cover.

The others sat down, so he followed them and made sure he could see the door. The rest of the patrons didn't so much as glance at them as the riders settled in. That didn't stop Hiccup from sizing each of them up, counting weapons, taking note of locations. I just don't want to be taken by surprise, he thought defensively. I'm just being safe."Here we go," the innkeeper said, appearing beside Hiccup with a tray. Hiccup jumped, hand going to his sword until logic caught up and he strangled the urge to draw Inferno. The man hadn't noticed as he laid out six bowls of stew, three loaves of bread, and five cups of alcohol.

"Thanks," Astrid said to the innkeeper. She frowned at Hiccup; she had seen him almost draw his sword. He grimaced at her and dug in. The stew was bland but hearty. It was mostly carrots and turnips, with a base of barley and some anemic chunks of mutton. Good enough for the riders, who ate it with gusto. The bread was strange and sour with a hard crust, but went well with the stew. Hiccup watched the door as he ate and finished before his friends.

"I'm going to take a walk," he said to the others as they started on their drinks. "Back soon." Astrid got up as he left and followed him out, catching his arm as he went through the door.

"What's up with you?" she asked as the door closed. It was dusk outside, and even in the fading light, Hiccup could see the concern on her face. "Are you okay?"

Hiccup blew out a breath that ruffled his bangs. "No, not really. I hate this place, Astrid. If we'd left when I wanted to, we'd be home already."

"Only halfway there, and half-dead from starving," she countered. "Not to mention with nothing to look forward to in the morning. We needed to stop, Hiccup."

"I know," he replied. It was an effort not to snap. "That doesn't mean I'm happy about it."

She hesitated. "Well... be safe if you're really going to walk around. Are you going to see the horses?" They'd agreed not to discuss the dragons in public.

"Yeah," Hiccup said. He half-grinned at the idea of a huge black stallion with retractable teeth and a lolling tongue above bright green eyes. Maybe it had wings, great feathery ones.

"Tell mine I say hi," Astrid said. She went back into the pub and left Hiccup in the darkening square. With a suspicious look around him, Hiccup headed off for the woods. He couldn't suppress the feeling he was being snuck up on. No one followed him as he slipped out of town. Every crack of a twig underfoot made his skin crawl, and he was as tense as a crossbow string once he emerged into the clearing where the dragons waited.

Toothless saw him and greeted him with a warble, and Hiccup's stress melted. He grinned and went to his dragon, stopping to scratch the others as he passed them. Stormfly squawked and nuzzled him, which made Toothless growl jealously.

"Calm down, you big baby," Hiccup told him. "I'm here already." He hugged him and received a tongue in the face for daring to pet another dragon. "Augh!" Hiccup wiped slobber out of his hair. "Gross!" Toothless chuffed his laughter and Hiccup couldn't help but grin. Even if he was still jumpy, nothing could get past five overprotective dragons.

Chapter Text

He wanted to laugh it off but found he could only manage a strangled grin. Ruffnut would have noticed. Unfortunately, she was currently unconscious. The others were too busy getting themselves to safety, but Hiccup spared a glance for him. His sharp eyes caught the way Tuff carried himself, the set jaw and stiff-backed, fragile walk of someone with a few broken ribs.

"I'm fine," Tuffnut said as Fishlegs took stock of the injuries later. Ruffnut was the worst off; a hunter had hit her head from behind with a well-shot stone from a sling.

The others had various bruises and strains from the aerial and subsequent hand-to-hand combat. Snotlout was a close second with a sprained ankle from a failed dodge. Astrid had a gash across one arm, Fishlegs winced with every movement as his muscles ached, and Hiccup had dried blood all over his armor and tunic from an impact-related nosebleed.

"You're an awful liar," Hiccup told Tuff. "Sit." Tuff did, failing to hold back a gasp of pain as he did.

"Ruff's gonna need some time to rest under observation," Fishlegs said with a sigh. "I can sit with her in my hut." He winced again and Hiccup stepped up.

"I can carry her there."

"Finish bandaging my arm and I'll help," Astrid said. Fishlegs nodded gratefully and within minutes, Ruffnut was ready to be carried on a stretcher towards Fishlegs' hut. Tuff tried to stand up, but Hiccup leveled a glare at him.

"You stay put," he said, firmly but not unkindly. "Fishlegs, check him over, please. I could have sworn I heard bones crack when these two crashed."

Tuff submitted unhappily to medical attention and fidgeted the whole time. Eventually he was allowed to go to Fishlegs' hut to be with Ruff and he walked faster than he should have.

He leaned against the door and caught his breath, grimacing fiercely against the fire in his ribs. When he was ready, he opened the door to see Hiccup sitting in the chair at Ruffnut's bedside.

Hiccup glanced up and nodded approval at the bandages around Tuffnut's chest. "Hey, Tuff."

"Hey, H." Tuff fought down another wince and took the chair on the other side of the bed. Hiccup was looking at the blankets without really seeing them. He looked as tired as Tuff felt and he hadn't taken the time to get the blood cleaned up. His nose was starting to bruise; it'd be black and blue by tomorrow.

"That mission went great," Hiccup said sarcastically. "Remind me not to send you and Ruff in as first-line attackers again."

"Too much raw power?" Tuff teased.

"Your attacks are better when the hunters aren't fresh and ready to attack," Hiccup explained. "You've got to lay enough gas for a big enough explosion and get clear before you set it off, and, well--" he gestured to Ruff's unconscious form. "They got the first hit in this time."

"Guess so." They lapsed into silence. Both were aching and exhausted, but neither of them were settling in for a nap; it was important to keep an eye on someone with a head injury.

"Why'd you say you were fine?"

"Eh?" Tuffnut blinked and looked up; Hiccup was watching him.

"When Fishlegs asked if you were hurt," Hiccup elaborated. "You lied, said you were fine even though your ribs are broken."

"Only one broken, and the others have their feelings very hurt," Tuffnut said.

"Well?"

Tuff paused. "I mean. Well. I'm gonna be fine. I've had worse for fun. And Ruff's worse off, so I can't complain."

Hiccup frowned faintly. "It doesn't do anyone any good if you lie about your injuries."

"That's rich, coming from you," Tuff said.

"I can take care of myself," Hiccup said. "But you're my soldier, as Astrid would say. I'd say that we're a team, Tuff. We're only as strong as the weakest link, and I need to know that you're not going to die on me without a word if something goes wrong."

"Fine, fine," Tuffnut said. "I promise to tell you every time I stub my toe or get a splinter in case it completely incapacitates the team in a hunter attack."

Hiccup smiled. They both knew the message was received, and Tuff wouldn't be Tuff if he didn't reply with a joke.

"I'll have the smallest pliers I've got ready for any splinters,'' Hiccup said. Between them, Ruffnut groaned and stirred.

Chapter Text

"Comfortable?"

Hiccup didn't answer. Viggo smirked; the gag probably had something to do with it, but he knew Hiccup well enough to recognize a pointed silence when he heard it.

Viggo ran a finger along the chain currently connecting Hiccup's wrists to the cell's wall. It was affixed so that his arms were pulled upwards behind him, and while that would have been fine if Hiccup was standing, he was sitting on a stool. And Viggo had seen fit to bind his legs in place.

"I learned this little trick from a friend," Viggo said casually. "I'm told it is quite torturous after merely fifteen minutes." Hiccup had been tied like this for over an hour. "If I remove your gag, will you deign to have a little chat with me?"

After a moment of presumably fierce internal conflict, Hiccup nodded.

"Hold still." Viggo drew his knife and cautiously sliced away the rope. Even though he'd honestly tried not to, a shallow cut now bled on Hiccup's cheek. His prisoner glared up at him.

"Water." Hiccup's voice was half-gone. Viggo raised an eyebrow.

"You've forgotten your manners, my dear Hiccup," he said, but produced the water anyway. He held the flask to Hiccup's lips for him and set it aside when Hiccup pulled away after drinking his fill. Hiccup hissed as Viggo wiped a bit of water from his lips.

"What do you want?" Hiccup asked, sounding marginally better. "You already have Berk's gold."

"True," Viggo admitted. "And I bet you worked out that it would pay the bounty on your head, yes?" Hiccup's eyes flashed. "But I've decided to rescind it, since you handed yourself over so kindly. I wouldn't pay you for turning yourself in!"

"Bastard," Hiccup snarled. Viggo reached back and gave the chain an upward tug. Hiccup bit back a cry of pain as his shoulders strained in their sockets.

"Manners," Viggo reminded him. "Politeness is becoming of a chief's son." He smiled at the venomous look Hiccup gave him. Hiccup had indeed fallen right into his hands; a scouting mission gone wrong, if Viggo was any judge. The Night Fury was caged, awaiting a buyer, and Hiccup...

Well, Viggo hadn't quite decided what to do with Hiccup yet. A dragon trainer was a valuable commodity for any auction, and a chief's son was always a good bargaining chip. As for more selfish reasons, Viggo could always find some of those. He ran his thumb over the cut he'd made on Hiccup's cheek and relished the way his prisoner recoiled.

Yes, Viggo could always find something selfish to do with a helpless Hiccup. At any rate, he'd be spending a lot more time in this agonizing position; perhaps it would help the reality of his situation sink in. Maybe, Viggo thought, he'd even cry.