Chapter Text
Viggo woke slowly to a warmth surrounding him, and a relaxing sensation on the back of his neck. Not that he wasn’t… enjoying the feeling, but…
‘Is there a reason you’re scratching my neck, Ryker?’ He asked. He rumbled, more accurately, and everything suddenly came flooding back to him. The pain, the transformation, the riders, and, Oh Norns, where was he?
His eyes immediately opened, and he sprung up from where he had been lying. In the process, his tail crashed into several objects he didn’t care enough to know what they were.
“Woah, easy!” A voice called, suddenly anxious. Viggo turned his head, eyes locking with Hiccup Horrendous Haddock. Was it him that was scratching Viggo’s neck? Had he seriously just been lying at Hiccup’s feet, getting tummy rubs and neck scratches.
He was going to kill the boy if—when—he returned to normal.
‘Are you okay?’ A deeper voice spoke, and Viggo turned yet again, to be met with the deep green eyes of Hiccup’s night fury. This was bad. If the dragon figured out who Viggo was, then it was game over.
‘Yes.’ Viggo growled, turning to move to the door.
“Hold on!” Hiccup called after him, “You shouldn’t be moving around. You’re still injured!”
Still injured indeed. Viggo could move, and that was enough. He certainly didn’t need Hiccup hovering over him, checking him for injuries.
The effects of the dragonroot had worn off by now, and he expected that the arrows hadn’t pierced his skin too deeply. They weren’t intended too, of course. Viggo had engineered those arrows himself as an awfully effective way of taking dragons alive and mostly unharmed.
He was glad of his handiwork now more than ever.
“He’s awake!” Spoke another voice, and Viggo realised all too quickly that he wasn’t in Hiccup’s hut. No. Instead, he was in the middle of the building that he knew the riders referred to as the ‘clubhouse’, and each and every single one of those insufferable children were here. Watching him.
Viggo needed Hiccup alone. Despite the fact that he wasn’t all too willing to out himself to the boy, it would likely be the easiest way to figure out what had happened to him, and how to reverse it. He cursed the Norns for delivering him with such terrible luck, rolling his eyes and moving towards the door again.
“Did he just roll his eyes at you? Hah!” Snotlout laughed as Viggo ignored him, allowing his body to carry him out of the clubhouse. This was ridiculous. Even more ridiculous was the fact that not just one rider, but the entire crew followed after him.
“Guys, give him some space.” Hiccup ordered, despite the fact that he was getting far too close for Viggo’s liking. “Are you hungry?”
Viggo was hungry. But he refused to accept food from Hiccup. Especially when he produced a fish from Thor-knows-where, and dangled it in front of Viggo’s mouth as if he were a baby.
He stared at Hiccup, disbelieving. He had killed men for less insulting offers.
‘Do you know how to eat?’ trilled a nadder as she nudged up against Viggo. After identifying her as Astrid’s dragon, he snapped at her. She jumped back with a growl, and then ate the fish herself.
“Stormfly,” Hiccup sighed, “we’re trying to feed this guy, not you.”
“Good girl.” Astrid smiled, scratching Stormfly’s chin. She let out a happy warble, nuzzling her head into Astrid’s chest. Viggo hoped to everything he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t be expected to act in such a way.
“You know, we can’t just keep on calling him ‘this guy’…” Fishlegs hummed, bending down so he was dangerously close to Viggo’s face. He had no idea how any of them were still alive with how flippantly they had been treating him. “He needs a name.”
Oh gods no.
“Well why don’t we discuss this back from inside the clubhouse?” Snotlout insisted, shivering, “It’s freezing out here!”
Viggo was inclined to agree with that assessment and, given that he was unlikely to get Hiccup by himself any time soon, followed the rest of the riders begrudgingly back into the clubhouse. Once inside, he dropped to the floor, resting his head on his paws.
Better to get this done with as fast as possible.
“Oh, I know!” Fishlegs smiled once all the riders were seated, “let’s call him… Growley. You know? Cause he growls a lot.”
“That’s a terrible name, Fishface.” Snotlout scoffed. For the second time in his life, Viggo found himself agreeing with Snotlout. “What about Bonecrusher?”
“Are you serious?” Astrid snorted, “We can’t call the dragon Bonecrusher.”
“You guys are no fun!” Grumbled Snotlout, “I miss Thor everyday.” Viggo got the distinct idea that this was a kind of ‘you had to be there’ moment from the riders, and hoped desperately that they did not end up naming him something so ridiculous.
“How about Buffnut?” Tuffnut volunteered. Viggo raised an eyebrow. Well… attempted to, he supposed.
“Awww, he looks so cute like that.” Ruffnut grinned, bending down to try and scratch his head. Viggo quickly let his face fall back to how it was before, dodging her attack. He would absolutely not be attempting to raise an eyebrow again. “Wait, did you guys see that?”
“See what?” Hiccup frowned, taking a step closer. Did none of the riders understand the concept of personal space?
“Doesn’t he kinda look like Viggo? I mean, the scar, the eyes… the totally grumpy face?”
Viggo’s head snapped to her immediately. Ruffnut’s eyes narrowed.
“An astute observation, sister-nut!” Tuffnut agreed with a grin.
“Nah, you guys are being ridiculous.” Snotlout waved them off, but then stood up, coming over to check. “Wait…” He frowned. “He kinda does.”
At last. They had figured it out. Viggo stood quickly, causing all the riders to take a cautionary step back. Then he began to nod vigorously, trying to make it clear to them that they were correct.
“Uh… guys?” Ruffnut frowned, “I think he understands me.” At that, Viggo only nodded harder, practically vibrating with excitement and relief.
“Well, I mean… We know he understands some things. All dragons do.” Hiccup shrugged, moving to stand right beside the other four. Astrid followed suit, and now all of them were standing in front of him, watching closely.
“No, I mean… I said he looked like Viggo, and he reacted.” Ruffnut explained. Viggo nodded again. “See?”
“Maybe he doesn’t like Viggo?” Tuffnut suggested, “He had been injured by the hunters.” Viggo stopped. His head turned slowly towards Tuffnut. “Yeah, that’s probably it.” He nodded thoughtfully.
Viggo immediately began to shake his head. ‘No. No, no—” But all that came out was a furious, guttural growl. Ruffnut jumped at this.
“See? He’s terrified!” Tuffnut gestured emphatically at Viggo, almost hitting him in the face. In response, Viggo snapped at his hand, making the twin pull away. Thankfully. Anyway, back to the larger problem at hand.
Viggo leaned back onto his hind legs, so his front legs were free to move. He pointed one claw at himself, and then at Ruffnut, and then he made an exaggerated gesture to his own face. Viggo.
Ruffnut’s expression softened. “Oh.” Viggo’s eyes widened hopefully. “You really are scared of Viggo.”
Nevermind.
Viggo’s eyes closed, and he slowly lowered himself back onto the ground.
A day had passed since the naming fiasco, and somehow the riders had landed on calling him Grumble. It was almost enough to make Viggo regret growling at all of them and trying to bite off Snotlout’s hand twice. Almost.
And still, Viggo had gotten nowhere with his attempts to show the riders who he really was. Ruffnut had almost got it, until her foolish brother had completely derailed his plan. How were these the same formidable dragon riders he kept losing to?
Now he was sat on the beach, having unwillingly been dragged along with Hiccup, Astrid, Stormfly and Toothless to go fishing. It was probably because he’d refused to eat anything since he arrived here, but that wasn’t important.
He grumbled in frustration as both dragons kept disappearing into the sea, returning with mouths full of fish. The worst part of this whole ideal, however, was that then both dragons would shake themselves off. Right next to Viggo.
He growled at them as they shot water off their scales and onto his, but it seemed they never got the memo.
‘Grumble should eat.’ Toothless warbled, nosing the fish towards Viggo. He only stared back, trying not to let his disdain show. He would absolutely not be eating raw fish. Especially not raw fish that had been in another dragon’s mouth.
Viggo looked across at Hiccup and Astrid for help, but neither of them seemed at all interested in their dragons’ antics. Hiccup was drawing something in his notebook, and Astrid was sharpening her axe.
In an attempt to escape the hostage situation he had been forced in to, the next time that the dragons went off to fetch more fish, Viggo crept around behind Hiccup, trying to catch a glimpse of what he was working on.
The boy, unfortunately, noticed.
“Hey, Grumble.” He smiled, turning the notebook to the dragon. On its pages were several diagrams of… Viggo’s dragon form. Remarkably well drawn. Viggo examined them for as long as Hiccup would allow, attempting to figure out what kind of dragon he had become, exactly.
And then it gave Viggo a genius idea.
He turned to the side of him, picking up a large tree branch that must’ve been carried here by the currents. Then, he began working. He dragged the twig through the sand, trying to write the phrase ‘I am Viggo.’
Frustratingly, he couldn’t grip the tree branch hard enough, and it ended up looking like several useless squiggles. It was annoying, certainly, but Viggo had a backup plan. He used his paws to rub at the failed attempt at writing, and then he attempted something else.
About ten minutes later, he stopped and took a few steps back to admire his handiwork. Hiccup did the same, and even Astrid was looking up now.
“Is that… Viggo?” Hiccup frowned.
Yes. Thank Thor.
Viggo nodded again, pointing at the drawing then at himself. It was painstakingly obvious now. Hiccup would have to figure out who he was!
“It’s okay, Grumble. You won’t have to ever see him again. We’ll make sure of it.” Hiccup promised, hand reaching down to scratch Viggo. He reared back, caught off guard by the sudden contact. “Easy. Hey, if you let me scratch you, then I can tell you about some of our fights with Viggo.”
…What?
Viggo was torn between three emotions. Frustrated that Hiccup didn’t figure him out was probably the most prevalent right now. Anger that the boy thought Viggo would even accept that offer, but also… curiosity.
He had to admit, he was interested to hear what Hiccup thought about him. How he spoke about him. It’d be fascinating to find out. On this occasion, perhaps the reward would outweigh the crushing realisation that he was about to let Hiccup pet him.
He was in too deep now, so he begrudgingly dropped down beside Hiccup. The child began scratching him behind the ears, and—
“Is your tail wagging? Oh you like that, huh!” Hiccup grinned.
No, he did not like it, thank you very much! Viggo’s new dragon instincts must’ve kicked in all of a sudden or something, because the more Hiccup scratched him on that spot, the more his tail wagged, and he could not get it to stop.
He considered biting Hiccup’s hand clean off, but decided that if he did that, he might never get an answer on how to turn back into a human. So, he stayed where he was, listening to Hiccup recounting a few of their battles in great detail.
The boy began with the first time they met, and Viggo had to admit, hearing it from Hiccup’s angle was utterly intriguing.
“He’s… brilliant, to be honest.” Hiccup admitted, hand pausing on Viggo’s back for a minute. Viggo looked up, fascinated. He hadn’t expected Hiccup to say anything even half decent about him. “I mean, he’s totally annoying most of the time—” there it was! “—but the way he got me to choose between two things was… well…”
“He really pushes Hiccup.” Astrid smiled, looking up from her axe again and scratching under Viggo’s chin.
The two riders were lucky that Viggo wanted to hear more, otherwise he definitely would’ve scratched Astrid right back with his claws. Considerably less gently.
“Especially the time when he stole all of Berk’s gold.” Hiccup agreed, continuing to scratch Viggo’s neck. Great. Now they were both doing it. “I mean, we only just escaped with the gold and our life. If he hadn’t slipped up, then Odin knows what could’ve happened.”
Viggo grumbled at that. He remembered Hiccup’s heist as if it were yesterday, and it still frustrated him beyond measure. It seemed, unfortunately, like Hiccup thought Viggo was grumbling in… pleasure… smiling down at him.
“You really like that, don’t you?”
No. Viggo absolutely did not like it.
With enough information gained from the riders for one day, Viggo puffed some smoked out his nostrils, rose, and began to walk away. Annoyingly enough, it seemed his leg hadn’t quite healed yet, and it gave way.
Hiccup was beside him in an instant, catching him.
“Hey, it’s okay Grumble. We can head back together if you don’t want to be here anymore. For now, just keep off your leg as much as possible.”
Viggo did not need to be mothered, for Valhalla’s sake!
Viggo was not happy.
It had been five days now. Five days, and he had made absolutely no progress on getting his real body back. He also still wasn’t being allowed to walk around freely. Wherever he went, one of the riders would follow. His leg didn’t even hurt any more, so why Hiccup was so obsessed with taking care of him, Viggo had no idea.
This sentence would undoubtedly be marginally less unbearable if Viggo could get away from the riders once in a while. Unfortunately for him, that was not a possibility.
“Hey, Grumble doesn’t look very happy.” Fishlegs frowned, taking a seat beside Viggo and—
Would they please stop scratching that spot in his neck!? He couldn’t control his tail when they did that!
“He’s been like that all day.” Ruffnut sighed, draping herself dramatically over the side of a chair, “Poor Grumble. Maybe he had a dragon wife and children that Viggo killed, and that’s why he gets so agitated whenever we mention him.”
Viggo didn’t even look up from where he was lying. He was entirely sick of the riders speculating on why he apparently ‘hated’ Viggo so much. It had gotten so bad that even Hiccup and Astrid had joined in. He was truly disappointed in the pair of them.
“No, no, I figured out why he looks like Viggo, sister-nut.” Tuffnut grinned, pointing rather aggressively at Viggo’s eye.
He couldn’t help it. He just… snapped his teeth and…
“I am hurt!” The boy shouted, tearing his hand away, “I am very much hurt!”
“What happened?” Hiccup asked, running into the Clubhouse with… was that the Dragon Eye? When Hiccup saw what had happened, he sighed. “Look, Grumble, you’ve gotta stop trying to bite people. We won’t hurt you, you know.
And that was precisely the problem. They gave Viggo far more attention than he would’ve liked. A smirk spread up his face as he came up with a strategy to deter the riders from laying their hands on him in future.
The next time someone tried to pet him, he would make it known to them that he did not appreciate the physical contact.
“Is he smirking?” Astrid frowned, gesturing at Viggo.
“He looks even more like Viggo when he does that!” Tuffnut exclaimed, still clutching his injured hand, “Anyway, I figured out why they look so similar! Viggo obviously tortured him because he wanted a dragon that looked like him!”
Viggo’s face fell immediately. Seriously! What kind of man did they think he was? He was willing to take extreme measures if it meant him and his tribe would benefit, but he didn’t just torture dragons for fun. That would be an extreme waste of resources.
“Guys… Maybe let’s not talk about Viggo so much around Grumble? Hey, maybe he’s given up? He hasn’t launched any kind of attack in over a week.”
As Viggo always said, Hiccup was far too naive. In fact, it was almost ironic that they were talking about this when Viggo was right under their noses. And that brought him on to his next scheme. The Dragon Eye. If Viggo could find out where exactly Hiccup hid it, then he could take it. The boy would have no idea until Viggo was miles away on an uninhabited island somewhere.
Maybe it would give him some information on the dragon that bit him?
The time for Viggo to put both his new strategies into practice happened just that night. The riders had retired to bed, and Viggo had followed Hiccup, carefully watching where he hid the Dragon Eye.
There was no way he kept it in a chest in the Clubhouse. Seriously! How had Viggo struggled so much with this?
In order to get Hiccup to leave, Viggo did have to do the unthinkable. Namely, accepting a tummy rub from the boy. He certainly did not enjoy it though, even if his tail seemed to think otherwise.
After pretending to be asleep for about half an hour, it was time for Viggo to strike. He rose from his spot on the floor, and crept across the clubhouse. The wooden planks cranked agonisingly loudly beneath his large weight, but no one seemed to stir, so he continued, until he was face to face with the chest.
This was going to be too easy.
Viggo tried pawing at the lid of the chest to get it to open. Unfortunately, his paws were too large, and his claws curled too much to prise it open. That quickly scratched plan A.
Plan B was to try and use his nose. He headbutted the chest a number of times in an attempt to get it to open, which was even less effective than the previous plan.
The final option—one which Viggo hadn’t been all to keen to try out—was to try and use his tail. Of all his limbs, the tail had been the one giving him the most trouble these past few days. Still, with the utmost focus, he managed to get the tail to whip round into position. And then, he raised it.
Everything happened far too quickly.
The chest sprung open, revealing the dragon eye, but at the same time, Viggo suddenly felt his feet being swept off the floor, and something wrapping around him, and—
He had walked straight into a trap. An alarm went off moments later—one that Viggo had no idea how Hiccup had come up with. His ingenuity truly was fascinating, but Viggo had fewer kind words to give it now, given he was caught in a net, several metres off ground.
He should be grateful, he supposed, that this happened while he was dragon. This experience as a human may well have been even more undignified than purring at the neck scratches that Hiccup gave. Which Viggo definitely hadn’t done.
A minute or two later, all of the riders entered the Clubhouse; some notably more awake than others.
“Grumble?” Hiccup frowned.
‘I would appreciate some help.’ Viggo grumbled to the night fury as he followed Hiccup in to the clubhouse. He had been weary about conversing with the dragons in fear that they would be the ones to figure out his identity, but desperate times…
‘Why did you try and get the Dragon Eye?’ The night fury trilled, plasma blast charging in his mouth. After a moment, he released it, and cutting the rope, and sending Viggo crashing to the floor, still wrapped up in the net.
‘I was interested.’ Viggo replied, still finding it exceptionally strange that he could just… speak in dragon now. He wondered whether, when he changed back, he would still be able to understand them. It would be fascinating.
“He didn’t mean to trigger the trap, did you Grumble?” Snotlout grinned, baby voice activating. Viggo growled in warning, all too aware what was coming next. It was time to put his second operation into practice, despite the failure of the first one.
Snotlout’s hand came down to rest on Viggo’s snout, and he caught the boy’s hand in his mouth, snapping down. He didn’t bite hard enough to take Snotlout’s hand clean off, but he certainly bit hard enough that the boy leapt back, shouting.
“Grumble.” Hiccup scolded. It wasn’t Viggo’s fault that all these children refused to accept that he didn’t want to constantly be poked and prodded.
‘Stop hurting our riders.’ Stormfly hissed, taking a few steps forward and pushing her head up against his, ‘Or we will have to fight you.’
‘Perhaps your riders should stop putting their hands in my mouth.’ Viggo replied, returning to his spot on the floor and making himself comfortable. That triggered another thought… It was only logical to assume that Viggo would be able to shoot fire from his mouth, wasn’t it? Tomorrow, perhaps, he would test that theory.
Viggo watched with his head on his paws as Hiccup took the Dragon Eye from the chest and headed to bed without more than a few additional words.
He was clearly deep in thought about something.
The next morning, Viggo woke up early. That was, of course, because he had a long day of experimentation ahead.
He left the clubhouse, still limping ever so slightly but hardly aware of the pain. If he could breathe fire, that could change everything. He would no longer need to stick near the riders for protection, meaning he could escape from them for longer periods of time.
That being said, he obviously still needed to remain at the Edge. After all, they were his only hope of being returned to his normal human body.
Once he reached a field with nothing except grass to set on fire, he paused. He wasn’t sure exactly how to go about this. For all his knowledge on dragons, he had never figured out how it was that they actually breathed fire.
Did the combustion start in their stomachs? Was it all in the throat? What did they do to trigger it? Viggo quite frankly had no idea. That meant that this would probably be harder than he had initially thought.
Still, Viggo loved a challenge, so he took a heavy exhale in, opened his mouth and blew, and—
nothing.
It went on like that for several hours. He couldn’t even get a single candle sized flame to ignite in his mouth. With a frustrated growl, he turned and began to pace.
‘From the drawings that Hiccup showed me,’ He began to ramble under his breath, which came out as more of a low rumble than anything else, ‘I appear to be some kind of strike class dragon. Not all in the strike class breathe fire. Toothless shoots plasma, and the skrill shoots lightning. Perhaps I also command a different element? But would the process be different, even if that was the case? Can I—’
“Hey, Grumble. You okay there…?” Hiccup frowned, taking a seat on the floor behind him. Viggo glanced up at him, only then realising that he had been musing aloud. He was lucky that Hiccup didn’t bring his dragon, or the night fury certainly would’ve figured him out. He’d have to be more careful in future.
Viggo nodded at Hiccup, and his eyes narrowed slightly.
“You’re a smart dragon, aren’t you?” He asked, reaching one hand down to try and touch Viggo. What was with these children’s obsession with physical contact? This time, Viggo took a step back rather than attacking Hiccup, and he sighed. “I thought you liked being scratched. What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”
Viggo shook his head in answer to both questions. He was not in pain, and he certainly didn’t enjoy being scratched, thank you very much.
“You working on something?” He hummed, leaning down so he was at eye level with Viggo. The latter bobbed his head again, trying to figure out a way to explain to Hiccup what he was trying to do. Perhaps the boy would be able to help?
In an attempt to do exactly that, he tried to breathe fire again. He drew in a breath, opened his mouth, and blew. Still nothing.
“You’re tryna breathe fire?” Hiccup guessed, to which Viggo nodded enthusiastically, pleased that he could understand even one thing he was trying to communicate. It was progress, at the very least. “You’ve never done it before?”
No, of course he hadn’t. Because Viggo was a human, and humans don’t tend to breathe fire. Instead of articulating this thought, Viggo just shook his head, hoping Hiccup might be able to offer him some reasonable advice. He didn’t.
“You know, I still haven’t seen you eat since we got here…” Hiccup frowned, almost asking. Viggo had, of course, found food to eat. He had stolen cuts of cooked meat or fish from the table when no one had been looking. Of course, this hadn’t been enough to satisfy his newfound draconian hunger, but it had kept him from starving, and that was really all that mattered.
Hiccup did have a point though… Maybe dragons could only breathe fire if they had eaten enough? If the fire was a way of breaking down metabolism, then Viggo didn’t expect that he would have eaten enough for flame breathing to be a possibility.
Perhaps at a later date, when he was more used to this body, he would go fishing himself. It might be less unbearable if it wasn’t already covered with the slobber of a far too eager night fury and nadder.
That was a worst case scenario though, and Viggo resigned himself to leaving that as a final experiment if, by the end of the night, he had still been unsuccessful.
It was getting later and later in the day, with the sun slowly beginning to sink low into the sky. Hiccup had left Viggo about an hour ago, and still Viggo had had no luck in breathing fire.
Perhaps he was physically incapable of it? Maybe it was due to the fact he was ultimately still a human?
Still, Viggo tried again. He inhaled slowly, trying to focus on his lungs. Then, he breathed out, mouth opening wide and… still nothing. That was when Fishlegs walked over, followed by his gronkle.
Of all of the riders, Fishlegs had, surprisingly, been the one that tried to touch him the least. Therefore, Viggo allowed him to approach with no aggression. The boy stopped a couple of metres away, head cocking. He didn’t say anything. Just… watched.
So, Viggo ignored him, returning to trying to breathe fire again. It was getting wearing—he would be the first to admit that—but if he could figure it out, then it would be worth it.
“What’re you doing?” Fishlegs asked, head cocked and eyes gleaming with fascination. Viggo, obviously, couldn’t reply. Nor could he figure out a way to explain, so he repeated the action in hopes it might dawn on the boy.
‘Are you okay?’ The gronkle rumbled, nudging his head against Viggo’s side. He pulled back growling at Meatlug in frustration.
‘Do not touch me.’ He snarled.
“Meatlug, give him some space.” Fishlegs spoke, hands resting on Meatlug’s sides in an attempt to calm him down.
‘Just trying to help.’ The gronkle grumbled, but did what his rider ordered, ‘Why are you breathing like that?’
‘I am trying to breathe fire.’ Viggo explained, grateful that at least Fishlegs had seemed to get the memo that, no, Viggo did not enjoy being touched and fussed over. Neither by dragons nor humans.
“Oh, I know! You’re trying to do mindfulness breathing, right?”
…What?
“We can go to my rock garden! It’s much more peaceful there!”
No thank you. Viggo turned, already beginning to walk away. Unfortunately, it turned out that the rock garden was actually in the direction he was walking. That was how he ended up sat between Fishlegs and his gronkle, both of them with their eyes closed doing ‘deep breathing’.
Viggo took back his earlier statement.
All of these children were insane.
“Breathe in for five…” Fishlegs said quietly, inhaling. Meatlug copied him. Viggo did not. He rose slowly, ready to slink off, when his stomach growled. It was louder than anything he had ever heard a dragon’s stomach make before, and he often captured and starved dragons almost to the point of passing out. This caused Fishlegs and Meatlug both to open their eyes.
‘You are hungry.’ Meatlug observed.
Viggo stopped dead. Curse this draconian body!
“Hey, Grumble. Do you maybe… want something to eat? Meatlug can go and get you some fish? Can’t you girl?” He asked, scratching Meatlug’s stomach until she collapsed to the floor, rolling onto her back. Viggo shook his head, then continued to walk away. He had put up with the boy’s mindfulness for ten minutes. Surely Fishlegs would let him go now. “Okay, well… uh… bye?”
‘If you need any help, tell me.’ Meatlug rumbled from her spot on the floor.
Duly noted, Viggo thought, but he would not be accepting the help of a dragon. Least of all a domesticated gronkle.
Somehow, although Viggo wasn’t sure how, exactly, he had ended up outside the Clubhouse again. That was only half of the problem, though. The larger half was the fact that for some unknown reason, the zippleback had both its necks draped over Viggo’s back.
One moment, Viggo had been lying on the ground, head on his paws as he listened to Hiccup and Tuffnut discussing increasingly bizarre theories about why Viggo had disappeared. The next, the dragon had been cozying up beside him, and then on top of him.
He had tried to snap at them, but with all his limbs pinned uncomfortably to the floor, there really was nothing he could do.
‘Get off.’ Viggo growled, snapping his jaws uselessly in the zippleback’s general direction.
‘No can do.’ One of the heads—Barf—replied, hissing out a small amount of green gas.
‘You make a good pillow.’ Belch agreed, lighting it on fire, creating a minor explosion just in front of Viggo’s face. His ears flapped back automatically, the explosion too loud—overwhelming his sense momentarily.
He had began to get used to these enhanced senses, but occasionally they still took him back.
“No! Maybe he turned into a lycanwing!” Tuffnut grinned. Viggo’s eyes widened. He’d figured it out? Viggo scrambled to stand, trying to get the dragon’s heads off of him, but failing spectacularly.
He let out some kind of roar to get their attention, but it went ignored by both riders.
“C’mon, Tuff. That’s ridiculous.” Hiccup scoffed. No!
Hiccup and Tuffnut continued discussing their theories, quickly moving away from the one that was, in fact, correct, when Viggo’s head snapped to something on the other side of the courtyard. He wasn’t sure what caught his attention, until he heard it.
Cluck.
His stomach twisted. Viggo only stared. Tuffnut’s chicken was pecking idly at the dirt several metres away.
No.
Viggo looked away.
‘What is wrong?’ Barf trilled, raising his head off Viggo’s back at last. He slipped out from Belch’s head, ready to leave the area as soon as he could. But for some reason, his body wouldn’t let him.
Viggo swallowed slowly. He could smell it. Warm feathers. Living flesh. Blood beneath the skin. His stomach growled again. No. This wasn’t happening.
He hadn't eaten properly in days. Viggo was aware of that fact. He simply refused to acknowledge it.
He had survived perfectly well on scraps of cooked meat when he could steal them, and that was sufficient. He would not eat raw fish. He would not eat whatever disgusting things the dragons seemed to find appetising. He was still Viggo Grimborn, and he had standards.
Unfortunately, his body appeared to have developed standards of its own.
He took a step back, claws digging into the dirt beneath him. Absolutely not. He was not doing this.
The chicken raised its head, eyes locking with Viggo’s. His body moved before he could stop it.
Within a moment, his claws had the chicken pinned to the ground, mouth opening wide right above the bird’s head, ready to clamp down. The two riders noticed then, both leaping into action immediately.
Viggo lowered his head, saliva dripping out of his mouth as he got closer and closer to the chicken.
“CHICKEN!” Tuffnut screamed.
“Grumble, stop!” Hiccup shouted.
And Viggo froze, head shaking as he snapped out of whatever trance his mind had been put under. He raised his paw, giving the chicken enough room to run to Tuffnut, who had practically been wailing in shock and fear.
He had almost eaten a live chicken.
‘Grumble is in trouble.’ Belch laughed. Viggo couldn’t even look up at the dragon.
He had entirely lost control of his body. That was a horrible thought. He… perhaps he should find a way to acquire food he would actually eat, to avoid this happening again?
“Grumble!” Hiccup scolded, coming to a stop in front of Viggo, and crouching down so the two of them were eye to eye. “You can’t eat live animals!” It wasn’t exactly a part of Viggo’s plan. “If you’re hungry, we can get you food.”
Yes. Raw fish. Food that Viggo wouldn’t be paid to eat. It wasn’t like he could tell them that, though.
“Look, I think you should spend tonight in the stables.” Hiccup said, very pointedly. Viggo froze. The stables? Was he serious? He was a grown man, for Thor’s sake. The boy picked up on Viggo’s displeasure, exhaling. “Yeah, I know you don’t want to. But we just… you’ve not been the most well behaved… It’s not a punishment or anything. It’s just to keep everyone safe.”
Viggo grumbled at this, although after losing control of himself once… maybe it would be safer? He would rather be locked in the stables than dead, after all, and if he kept compromising the riders’ safety, he could definitely see things ending up that way.
There was still a few hours before the riders were due to head to bed, so Viggo would make the most of that time. As much as he hated to do this… he headed off in search of Meatlug.
Thankfully, Meatlug had understood what Viggo wanted eventually. Fishlegs had brought him enough cooked meat to finally satisfy the worst of his hunger, and Viggo had been able to retire to the stables without the constant, gnawing ache in his stomach.
It was a small mercy, at least.
His biggest problem now, however, was the fact that he was in a stable full of snoring dragons. Each breath that the dragons took made Viggo’s spine prickle with discomfort, and the smell. That was undoubtedly the worst part.
Viggo adjusted; uncomfortable, frustrated and cold, and then lowered his head back down onto his paws again.
He exhaled heavily, and then—
the wooden stable went up in flames.
Viggo scrambled to stand, in absolute shock. Had he done that? What had he done to cause it? All he did was exhale… Perhaps it was the fact that he hadn’t eaten enough causing him to be unable to breathe fire previously?
His eyes widened in relief and fascination as he tried again. This time, a burst of flame erupted from his jaws, hotter and larger than the first. There was no effort to it. No conscious decision. His body simply knew what to do.
He was about to try again when the severity of the situation began to catch up with him. He had just breathed fire, yes, but he had also breathed it all over Hiccup’s wooden dragon stables, which were very quickly going up in flames.
The dragons around him were now waking up, some sounding more panicked than others as they pulled at the doors of the stable, trying to get out. The more intelligent of the dragons began roaring, as loud as they could, presumably to get the attention of the riders.
“Hey! What’s going on?” Shouted Hiccup, rushing into the burning stables, immediately moving towards the doors to begin unlocking them. Astrid came in after, helping Hiccup free the dragons. They got to Viggo last, opening his door.
Unlike the other dragons, he didn’t immediately bolt. He was far too fascinated by what he had just discovered he could do.
“Grumble!” Astrid shouted, “Get out! What’re you doing?” So finally, Viggo followed them out of the burning stables, just in time to see the roof collapse. Hiccup looked across at him, eyebrow raised as he panted for breath.
“Was that you?” He frowned. Viggo nodded slowly, hoping to the gods that Hiccup would understand he hadn’t meant to do it. Not initially, at least. “Grumble, this isn’t working.” He sighed.
What?
“I know you can understand me. Look, that was kind of like your last chance. You keep putting us and our dragons in danger. I think it might be for the best if we helped find you somewhere else to live.”
Was he serious? Despite the fact that Viggo had found this entire thing incredibly wearing—especially having to spend time with the riders—he didn’t want to relocate. If that happened, and he was removed from the Edge, there was no way he’d be able to find a way to turn back.
As much as he hated to do this… he was going to have to change his strategy.