Chapter Text
Hiccup had been searching for information about a dragon that was tormenting fishermen and merchants for quite some time. He had heard legends about this dragon, but the most striking one was about its scales and its blood. Whoever managed to take those two things from the dragon could recover from any wound, scar, or illness.
Hiccup didn’t believe it. But some people did. At that moment, he was riding Toothless, following a map he had obtained the night before. In the distance, his eyes spotted a large rock formation, almost the size of an island. It was wrapped in thick fog, and the closer he got, the stronger the smell of blood and sulfur became.
However, something caught his attention. A small ship was stranded on the island’s shore. He approached and found dragon traps, along with weapons. He didn’t like that at all, as he feared something might have happened to the dragon.
He took flight again and prayed that the creature was okay. Toothless followed his nose, and shortly after, they found the cave. The dragon seemed alive and angry. Hiccup drew his sword before ordering Toothless to move forward. But to his surprise, the hunter on the island was Viggo Grimborn.
Both stared at each other in tense silence. The dragon’s roar brought their attention back to it: a beast with iridescent scales that shifted color depending on the light, milky white eyes, and sharp teeth.
“My dear Hiccup,” Viggo greeted him with that calm, razor-sharp voice that always put him on alert. “I see you’re still sticking your nose into matters that don’t concern you.”
“Viggo,” Hiccup dismounted from Toothless and unsheathed his sword. “I thought you had died in the volcano. But from what I see, you want to torture this dragon. Doesn’t that seem cruel even to you?”
“Cruel is such a morally loaded word, my dear.” Viggo took a step toward the cave, unhurried, as if danger didn’t apply to him. “I prefer to call it necessity. I’ve been searching for months for something that will give me back what I lost, and this creature is the first real lead I’ve found.”
“Necessity.” Hiccup spat the word as if it tasted bad. “You always have a pretty word for what you do. Traps, torture, hunts… Everything sounds better when you say it.”
Viggo smiled crookedly. The burn that covered part of his face and his left eye tightened visibly, making the scars gleam under the dim light.
“Phantom pains, my dear.” Viggo didn’t take his eyes off the dragon. “There are questions you don’t need to ask to know the answer. Look at my face and tell me yourself what I’m looking for here.”
Hiccup observed Viggo for a moment and understood exactly what he meant. He suffered from those pains too, and there was no way to get rid of them. Not with natural remedies.
“It seems you’ve discovered the truth. I had no doubt you would. If you’ll excuse me, I must persuade this dragon.”
“Persuade.” Hiccup tightened his grip on the hilt. “You want to skin it alive if necessary. Don’t pretend there’s any other way in your head.”
“Just enough,” Viggo shrugged, as if they were talking about business and not about tearing the skin off a living being. “Some things require sacrifices, Hiccup. You, of all people, should understand that. Or have you already forgotten what it cost to tame your dragon? How many mistakes, how many trials, before it trusted you?”
“That’s not the same, and you know it.”
“It’s exactly the same.” His voice dropped, almost gentle, which was worse. “You just call it friendship and I call it method. The result, my dear, is identical: a dragon understanding what a human needs from it.”
“I’m not going to let you lay a hand on it. Not while I’m here.”
“Are you going to stop me by yourself?” Viggo raised an eyebrow, amused, lifting his sword with a slow purr in his voice. “Always so idealistic. So predictable. It’s almost endearing that you still believe good intentions win fights.”
In a swift movement, Viggo cut a thin rope that triggered a series of traps against the dragon. The animal shrieked in pain as several arrows lodged in its left wing.
Hiccup cursed himself for not spotting the trap in time, but he didn’t have time to think. He attacked first. His sword clashed against Viggo’s, and for a moment he thought he had the advantage. He didn’t. Viggo, half-blind, moved with a precision that left no room for error, as if he knew every move Hiccup would make before he made it. A few blows were enough for Hiccup to end up on the ground, his back against the rock and the air knocked out of him.
Toothless couldn’t help him: he was busy keeping the dragon away from more traps.
“My dear, you should be ashamed of how little you’ve improved.” Viggo placed the tip of his sword under the rider’s throat, not pressing yet, savoring the moment. “It flatters me to think I can still beat you so easily.”
“You’re not capable of killing me.” Hiccup said it with more confidence than he felt.
“Aren’t I?” Viggo tilted his head, as if he had just heard the funniest joke of the year. “What touching faith you have in me, my dear. It almost makes me want to keep you just to see how long it takes for that faith to break.”
He never got the chance to find out. The dragon, terrified and furious, unleashed an indiscriminate attack on the two intruders in its cave. A blast of acid and a brutal tail swipe hit Viggo square on. The hunter was sent flying into the rocks.
Hiccup heard a horrible crunch and, with fear, turned around. Blood. A lot of blood. He could leave him there. Viggo would die in minutes. The world would be safer. The dragon would be safe.
But his legs moved before his mind finished the thought. He ran toward him, and a part of himself—the part that was still rational—asked what kind of person saves the man who, a minute earlier, had a sword at his throat.
Viggo was breathing with difficulty. His side was wrecked, his leg bent at an impossible angle, the old burn now covered in fresh blood. His good eye fixed on Hiccup with something he couldn’t quite name. He tried to speak, but only managed a groan of pain.
“Shut up,” Hiccup muttered, lifting him with effort. He weighed more than he remembered, or maybe it was because he was nearly dead. “I’m not going to let you die like this. Not today.”
Toothless approached, growling warily, but obeyed when Hiccup asked for help carrying the wounded man. The unknown dragon watched them from a distance, not attacking, almost as if it understood there was no longer any danger.
As they flew toward Berk, with Viggo semi-conscious leaning against his chest, Hiccup felt the warmth of the blood soaking his clothes and a knot in his stomach that wasn’t just concern. It was something harder to admit: that in the moment he saw Viggo’s body crash against the rock, the first thing he felt wasn’t relief.
Viggo let out a weak laugh, barely audible over the wind.
“Always so soft, Haddock. You’re going to regret this.”
Hiccup clenched his jaw and didn’t respond. But deep down, he already knew Viggo was right.