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Hiccup shivered. He’d been let out of his cage to sit in front of the fire, as the Hunters didn’t want him freezing to death. His hands were bound in front of him, and he kept them in his lap. He wished he had a cloak or a fur or something to keep the cold from his back. He was warm in the front, but his back was freezing , and so he shivered.
“The men are setting up my tent,” a voice said from behind him. Hiccup looked to see Viggo walking towards him through the wind and snow. “We’ll be sharing so you don’t freeze to death.”
Hiccup glared. “I think I prefer a cold cage over you.”
Viggo laughed lightly, came and sat on the log beside Hiccup, and Hiccup wanted to move away, but didn’t. He didn’t want to show Viggo just how uncomfortable he made him. “Always so stubborn.”
Hiccup said nothing. He didn’t want to talk to Viggo, didn’t even want to be around him. He wished he hadn’t gotten himself into this mess. He wanted to be warm by the fire with his friends back on Dragon’s Edge, not here, cold and hungry with Dragon Hunters all around him.
“Here,” Viggo said, and Hiccup was wondering what he meant, but then he saw him unclasping his brooch. He placed the cloak over Hiccup, clasped the brooch in the front to hold it on him. Hiccup blinked at Viggo in shock, stunned by the intimacy of the moment and the kindness in it. Viggo had… given him his own article of clothing to keep him warm. Why had he done that? He was his enemy!
Viggo smiled at Hiccup, and it looked real. He shook his head. “You look like you got punched in the gut.”
“W-won’t you be cold?” Hiccup didn’t know if that’s what he wanted to say, but that’s what came out of his mouth. Why did he care about whether or not Viggo would be cold.
“You hardly have enough on those bones to keep you warm,” Viggo said, and Hiccup frowned. “I meant no insult, my dear.” He put a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder and it was warm… and comforting? Why would Viggo’s touch be comforting? “Keep it.” Viggo stood. “I’ll go check on the preparations. You stay here and keep warm. I’ll fetch you when my tent is ready.”
“Will I… get anything to eat?” Hiccup asked, looking up at Viggo.
“Of course, my dear Hiccup, of course.” He smiled at him again, and it looked teasing this time. “We’re not savages.”
Then, Viggo walked off, his boots crunching in the snow, and Hiccup was left to contemplate what had just happened. But now, at least, he was warm.
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