Work Text:
Ruffnut was no stranger to her own mortality; she was a Dragon Rider for Odin’s sake. She’d come face to face with death more times than she could count, and had spent many nights wondering which was worse - the fast, hard-hitting knowledge when falling that everything was coming to a close in an instant, or the lengthy, drawn out waiting of captivity, not knowing when your time was coming, only that it was .
But now, sitting in the hold of Viggo’s warship, the tight coils of chaffing rope binding her rubbed-raw wrists, Ruffnut had decided that it was definitely the drawn out kind of dying that sucked the most. The ship they were on groaned and creaked with every ill-timed swell of the ocean, the sound of waves slapping against the hull punctuated by the rhythmic clinking of chains swaying overhead. Ruffnut shuddered at the thought of what they might be used for. The air stank of salt, sweat, and despair, sitting heavy in her chest like she was breathing in gravely chunks of rock.
Astrid sat beside her, jaw clenched so tightly that her cheek twitched and Ruffnut worried that her teeth would shatter under the pressure. Her icy blue eyes darted between the locked iron door and the single guard stationed before it, sizing up the situation, calculating. Astrid was always thinking, Ruffnut mused with a bitterness that only comes from a depressing kind of jealousy. Blood trickled from a cut on Astrid’s lip, but she didn’t wipe it away. Ruffnut, had her hands not been bound behind her, might’ve wiped it for her. Her shoulders were taut, her body coiled like a spring.
It was very Astrid-like of her, to be prepared for anything that opened their cell, and Ruffnut admired that part of Astrid very deeply. But Ruffnut, slumped against the wall in a damp, mouldy corner, was not prepared to get out of there at any moment. Ruffnut wasn’t prepared to fight, she wasn’t prepared to run, and she certainly wasn’t prepared to go home. She wanted to, so desperately that it felt like her heart was breaking every second she wasn’t at the Edge, but she would be foolish to expect escape.
The reason was soul-crushingly simple; Hiccup’s wrists were also red-raw and swollen from where the ropes had bitten into his skin. He’d tried to twist his hands free earlier, but the effort had only rewarded him with raw, bleeding flesh, solidfying the overwhelming fear within Ruffnut that she wasn’t going home this time .
Hiccup was always the one who came and saved them, and when he was in the unfortunately familiar position of being captured Astrid was there to lead the rescue. But Hiccup and Astrid were here. With her. Held captive by Viggo, relying on the others to save them. Somewhere above deck, the crew of Viggo Grimborn’s warship moved with precision and purpose, their boots thundering, and Ruffnut knew that without Astrid’s strategy, or Hiccup’s raw talent, there was no chance of all three of them making it off the boat.
Hiccup would make it - he always did. Toothless would swoop in, pick him up, and there was nothing Viggo could do. Ruffnut wasn’t so lucky; Barf and Belch were - well - Barf and Belch. They had Tuffnut to look out for too, so swooping into such perilous situations just wasn’t something they were able to do. And Ruffnut had always known that if the situation called for it, she would not be the one people chose to save.
She had thought she was okay with this, cuddled up under her blanket at the Edge, but now, sore, cold, and starving, she resented it with every scrap of emotion she could muster. It would be downright idiocy, beyond even her capacity for stupid, to assume that Hiccup, when presented with a choice between his lover and Ruffnut, would choose her, the girl with only one person in the world who prayed she would come home. Astrid naturally found herself judged by the same sentiment in Ruffnuts mind.
And it was Astrid, of course, who broke the silence first, her voice low and edged with frustration. “You’ve got a plan, right?” The words were directed at Hiccup, obviously , which left Ruffnut feeling a little bitter even if she very decidedly had no plan.
Hiccup swallowed, his voice cracking as though his throat had never seen a droplet of water before. “Of course,” he replied, his voice steadier than Ruffnut felt she could have ever mustered. Astrid’s sharp blue eyes searched his, and for the briefest moment, Ruffnut thought she might call him out. But she didn’t. Instead, she pressed her back against the wall, sighing quietly.
“I hope you do, Hiccup,” Ruffnut muttered, only able to keep the fear from her voice by drowning it in a rough, sarcastic lilt. “Viggo isn’t going to let us go with a slap on the wrist and a gift basket.”
No one argued, but Hiccup smirked, a small thing that worried Ruffnut a little. Hiccup didn’t laugh at her jokes on a good day, let alone a day spent in the hands of a man who had been relentlessly pursuing them for years. She ignored it though. If Hiccup had already given up, she may as well throw herself into the ocean, hands bound and all. Though, that may be a favourable way to go, knowing how sick Viggo could be.
The air in the cell was thick with the scent of mildew and iron, oppressive and suffocating, clinging to the back of Ruffnut’s throat like a living thing. The dampness seeped into her clothes and skin, chilling her to the bone despite the faint warmth of the torchlight flickering beyond the bars. Shadows danced across the wooden walls, twisting into grotesque shapes that seemed to leer at her, feeding the gnawing unease in her chest.
She felt a small prick of shame blossom in her chest at the unease, knowing that Hiccup and Astrid weren’t afraid of the shadows that bent and warped on the walls. They weren’t afraid, not in the cowardly way she was.
Somewhere down the corridor, the sound of chains rattling echoed through the gloom. Then came the scream—sharp, raw, and suffocatingly human —only to be abruptly silenced, leaving a suffocating void in its wake. The sound lingered in the air like a ghost, raising the hairs on Ruffnut’s arms. She shifted uncomfortably, the rough ropes biting into her wrists, their fibers stained with blood—her blood.
Gods she’d seen too much of her own blood for a girl of eighteen.
Her stomach churned, a sickening cocktail of fear and fury, as somewhere in the distance water dripped, its rhythm maddeningly irregular. At least the erratic dripping kept Ruffnut on her toes. She looked over to Astrid, wondering if she too was being driven wild by the atmosphere. Astrid was always enviously strong, almost unshakable, but Ruffnut could see it now—the faint tremor in her fingers, the way her breaths came just a little too fast. She didn’t look at her, didn’t speak, but her silence said enough.
Ruffnut forced her thoughts away, staring instead at the wooden planks beneath her. They were stained—old blood, maybe, or seawater turned dark with grime. Her reflection stared back at her faintly in a small pool of water, distorted and fractured by ripples. She barely recognized herself, bruises marring her skin, blood tangled in her hair. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to let the last memory she had of herself be one of hurt, and fragility. It’s what Viggo would have wanted for her, to die with the image of her injuries, to pass on with only the knowledge that she was broken.
Viggo was known for his cunning, his ruthlessness, and his ability to exploit even the smallest weaknesses. And Ruffnut knew, deep down, that she and her friends had plenty of those. She stiffened, pulled from her thoughts as the door creaked open, breath catching in her throat as heavy boots clomped across the wooden floor. The first to appear were the guards, their leather armor gleaming with a sickening sheen in the dim torchlight. Their faces were expressionless, eyes shadowed beneath their helmets, but their silence was more unnerving than any words could have been.
And then came Viggo.
He stepped into the room as though he owned not just the space but the very air they breathed. His sharp features were carved in shadow and light, the flickering torch casting eerie highlights across his composed face. His expression was infuriatingly calm, his gaze razor-sharp as it swept over them, taking in every detail like a predator assessing its cornered prey.
As much as Ruffnut felt the fear suffocating her, she met his eyes and tried, desperately tried , to keep the fear from her eyes. She couldn’t show him she was afraid. She couldn’t show him any weakness, or she would never leave this ship. But she was scared - terrified, in fact. But she was dead if Viggo knew that.
“Hiccup Haddock,” Viggo said, his voice a smooth, calculated purr. It was a sound that raised the hairs on Ruffnut’s arm, not for its volume, or it’s content, but for its disarming politeness. “It’s not often I get to host the illustrious Dragon Riders of Berk. A pity the accommodations aren’t quite... welcoming.”
Hiccup seemed to force himself to look up, locking eyes with Viggo. “If you think we’ll tell you anything, you’re wasting your time,” he managed, his voice steady even as Ruffnut could see the panic in his eyes.
Viggo tilted his head slightly, his faint smile curling with practiced ease. “Oh, I don’t need you to tell me anything, Hiccup,” he said, a soft chuckle slipping from his lips. “I already know more than enough. Where you keep your dragons. The routes you patrol. Even your father’s—”
“Leave him out of this,” Hiccup snapped, his voice cutting through the room like a blade.
For the briefest moment, something flickered in Viggo’s eyes—amusement, perhaps, or satisfaction. His smile widened, but it didn’t reach his gaze, which remained cold and calculating as ever. “Ah, there’s the fire I’ve heard so much about,” he murmured, almost to himself. “It’s admirable, truly. But misplaced.”
Viggo shifted his attention, his gaze sliding past Hiccup to Astrid and Ruffnut. He studied them with the same methodical intensity, his expression unreadable. Ruffnut swallowed, but refused to let any fear show on her face. She met his eyes with gritted teeth, and her stomach churned at the slight smirk on Viggo’s face widened.
“And your companions?” he mused aloud, sending an invisible shiver down Ruffnut’s spine. “Such loyalty to follow you into a trap. I wonder, how far would they go for you? Or perhaps the better question is... how far would you go for them?”
Astrid’s jaw clenched, her knuckles whitening as she gripped her knees. Ruffnut flinched, her gaze darting to Hiccup for reassurance that could not be found. Instead, all that she could see was terror - terror that this truly was it for them. That the battle had been lost.
If there was one thing Ruffnut hated more than anything, it was to lose .
Viggo took a step forward, crouching until he was eye level with Hiccup, his presence suffocating in its nearness to the one person Ruffnut believed could save her. “You think yourself clever, Hiccup. A leader, a hero. But every hero has their breaking point. I wonder... shall we find yours tonight?”
The torchlight cast dancing shadows over Viggo’s face, his calm mask never slipping. Hiccup met his gaze, refusing to look away, and Ruffnut could only hear the thunder of her own heartbeat in her ears. Time appeared to momentarily stand still, frozen in that moment, where Viggo’s breath caused the strands of Hiccups hair falling over his face to flutter. For a second, everything was serene.
For a second, Ruffnut felt at peace with the thought of death.
It was brutally shattered as, with a faint smile, Viggo rose to his full height and motioned to the guards.
“Bring her forward,” Viggo ordered, his tone brisk, as if issuing instructions for a mundane task, calling for some common place object to be brought to him.
Ruffnut’s heart stopped.
Astrid jerked back instinctively as one of the guards advanced, her shoulders squaring in defiance despite the fresh streaks of blood on her temple. Ruffnut tried to push away the overwhelming relief that it wasn’t her the guards had moved towards, an easy feat as she saw the fear in Astrid’s eyes.
“Don’t you dare touch her,” Hiccup snarled, his voice a razor’s edge. He lunged forward, the ropes binding his wrists digging painfully into his skin as he strained against them. Ruffnut had never seen him this agitated. She wondered, blindingly selfishly, if he would have reacted so strongly if it was her the guards had come for.
She decided it didn’t matter, not now anyway, as the guard didn’t hesitate to yank Astrid up by her arm with a force that drew a sharp gasp from her. Ruffnut’s stomach dropped at the sound, her breath coming in short, frantic bursts.
“Leave her alone!” Hiccup shouted, his voice breaking as the guard dragged Astrid into the center of the room. Ruffnut didn’t know how much longer she could hear him like this without breaking.
“Calm yourself, Hiccup,” Viggo said coolly, stepping aside to give the guards space. “I have no interest in harming your friend unnecessarily. But if you continue to be difficult, I will have no choice but to make an example.”
Astrid shot Hiccup a look—one filled with determination, even as fear flickered behind her blue eyes. “I won’t give him anything,” she reassured through gritted teeth, her voice unsteady but resolute.
“Such loyalty,” Viggo mused, circling her like a vulture. “But loyalty can be a dangerous thing, don’t you agree, Hiccup? It makes you vulnerable. Predictable .”
Ruffnut stared at the floor, at the poorly-cleaned pools of dried blood that seemed to stare back at her. How many people had died here, desperate for rescue or protecting their friends? Their family? She pulled against her bindings, straining until her wrists burned, her eyes darting between Viggo and Astrid. She knew, deep down, that there was nothing she could do, but by Thor she was going to try.
Viggo stopped in front of Astrid, his gaze trailing over her like a craftsman inspecting his tools. “You’re a warrior, aren’t you?” he said, his voice almost conversational. “I imagine you’ve endured your fair share of pain. Let’s see how much it takes to break you.”
Ruffnut wanted to throw up.
The guard produced a thin, cruel blade, its edge gleaming in the torchlight. Ruffnut’s stomach dropped as he watched Viggo take it, turning it over in his hand with casual precision.
“Stop!” Hiccup shouted, his voice cracking. “Viggo, I’m warning you—”
“You’re in no position to warn anyone,” Viggo interrupted, his voice sharp now, his smile disappearing. “You need to understand, Hiccup. Your choices brought you here. Your defiance has consequences.”
Astrid didn’t flinch as Viggo stepped closer, the blade catching the light as he tilted her chin up with it. Her expression was defiant, but Ruffnut could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands trembled despite her resolve. This wasn’t Astrid; This was the scared, broken version of Astrid that Viggo was creating. Her blood ran cold at the thought of her time to be reinvented by Viggo.
“Please,” Hiccup said, his voice breaking entirely now, and she could hear the desperation clawing at his throat. “Don’t hurt her. Viggo, you want the Dragon’s Eye, right? Just—just take it, take me . Leave them out of this.”
Viggo tilted his head, his eyes narrowing in mock consideration. “Tempting,” he murmured. “But I think you need to see the cost of your stubbornness, Hiccup. Leadership is a heavy burden. Let me show you just how heavy it can be.”
Before Hiccup could respond, Viggo gave a subtle nod to the guard behind him. The man moved with brutal efficiency, striking Astrid’s side with a calculated blow that drove the air from her lungs. She collapsed to her knees, gasping, as Hiccup screamed her name. Ruffnut watched with morbid interest, unable to look away. The sight of Astrid so helpless was foreign, unsettling, and in a strange kind of way apocalyptic . Like the world itself must have ended to make this sight feel comfortable.
“You’re a monster,” Hiccup spat, his voice trembling as tears burned in his eyes. Ruffnut swallowed thickly. It was heartbreaking to watch Hiccup like this, his lover at the mercy of his greatest enemy, but some of this sorrow was overpowered by the fear of what was to come. Namely, what Viggo would do to her .
Viggo crouched in front of Hiccup again, and Ruffnut found herself holding her breath. “A monster?” Viggo repeated, his tone mockingly thoughtful. “No, Hiccup. I’m a teacher. And tonight, you’re going to learn what it means to fail the ones who depend on you.”
Ruffnut could taste her breakfast in her mouth. Astrid’s gasps filled the silence, and her mind screamed at her to do something, to fight, to protect her, but the ropes dug into her wrists, unyielding.
“Stop!” Hiccup shouted again. “Please! I’ll do whatever you want!”
Viggo’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “I know you will, Hiccup. But not yet.”
And the blade glinted again. Blood seeped through Astrid’s tunic, as the axe met her shoulder, the red stark against the dim, grimy room. She bit back a scream, her jaw clenched so tightly Ruffnut thought it might snap. Her defiance only seemed to amuse Viggo further.
Hiccup struggled violently against his bindings, the coarse rope biting into his skin until it was slick with blood. “Viggo, stop this!” he begged, his voice raw and hoarse. “Whatever you want—whatever it takes—I’ll give it to you! Just stop!”
Viggo stood slowly, straightening his coat with meticulous care as though Hiccup’s desperation was nothing more than background noise. He turned, the blade in his hand still stained, and regarded Hiccup with an expression devoid of pity.
“I believe you, Hiccup,” Viggo said finally, his tone almost soothing. “But understanding the cost of your defiance is part of the lesson. And lessons, my dear boy, must be thorough to leave a lasting impression.”
Hiccup’s breaths came fast and shallow, his chest heaving. Ruffnut had never seen him this panicked, this desperate to make anything stop. Astrid’s head lifted weakly, her gaze locking onto his. Her eyes, though clouded with pain, burned with a silent command: Don’t give in.
But how could they not?
The sound of Viggo’s footsteps echoed ominously as he moved to Ruffnut, his predatory gaze narrowing on her. Ruffnut felt her heart lurch again, the room spinning around her, but she only met Viggo’s eyes with a coldness she thought had thawed a long time ago.
“No,” Hiccup choked out, his voice little more than a whisper. “Please... don’t.”
She couldn’t look at anything other than Viggo. She couldn’t bear the thought of breaking, not in front of Hiccup. Viggo crouched beside her, his hand reaching out to tilt her bruised chin upward. She stiffened but didn’t resist, just forced her mouth to curl into a sneer, eyes still trained on his own.
“She’s quieter than I expected,” Viggo said softly, as if to himself.
“Fuck you,” Ruffnut spat, and Viggo smiled.
“That’s more like it. It’s no fun if you’ve already given up. I want to see you break .”
“Don’t touch her!” Hiccup shouted, his voice echoing against the cell walls. “She’s done nothing to you! Leave her out of this!”
Viggo’s calm mask cracked slightly, a flicker of annoyance flashing across his face. “Done nothing? Hiccup, your people meddle in my affairs at every turn. They are complicit in your defiance, your insolence . This is as much their doing as yours.”
Hiccup pulled again at his bindings, his body trembling with helpless rage. “I’ll give you the Dragon’s Eye,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ll give you every lens, every secret— please .”
Viggo stood abruptly, his eyes narrowing as he crossed the room in slow, measured steps, and Ruffnut let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, all of a sudden lightheaded. He stopped inches from Hiccup.
“You’d give me everything?” Viggo asked, his tone laced with mockery. “Your precious knowledge, your prized treasure? And what guarantee do I have that you won’t betray me the moment I loosen these chains?”
“You don’t!” Hiccup spat, his voice trembling with fury. “But you’ll have what you want. Isn’t that enough?”
Viggo studied him for a long moment, the silence stretching unbearably. Then, he smirked—a cold, calculated expression that sent a shiver down Hiccup’s spine.
“No, Hiccup,” Viggo said finally. “Not yet. You’ll break—but not on your terms. Only on mine.”
He nodded to his men, who stepped forward, dragging Ruffnut to her feet with a violent jerk. She gasped, more out of surprise then any real hurt, her body stiffening as the two men yanked her toward the center of the cell. She struggled, but she was hopelessly outnumbered and outmatched.
“Ruffnut, no!” Hiccup shouted, struggling against his restraints, his breath coming fast and shallow. “Don’t—please!”
Viggo raised a hand, silencing him with a single gesture. “Oh, don’t worry, Hiccup. You’ll be here to watch.” His lips curled into a twisted smile. “I’m not a monster. Not yet.”
Pain crashed through Ruffnut’s head as the guards pushed her to the ground, the wood biting into her skin like some angered beast. She let out a sharp breath, a grunt of pain, but refused to give Viggo the satisfaction of an exclamation. She would not break.
“Viggo, please—don’t,” Astrid’s voice was strained, desperate. She yanked at the ropes binding her wrists, but there was no way out.
Ruffnut dragged her head off the floor, the effort sending sharp, shooting pain through her body. She looked at Viggo through lidded eyes, spitting a hideous mixture of saliva and blood at Viggo’s feet. It shimmered in the torchlight on his boot. Her chest heaved. “You think you can break me? You’re pathetic.”
Viggo leaned down to her ear, his breath hot and suffocating. “You’ll change your tune soon enough, boy.”
“I’m not a fucking boy. Gods, do you even know who your enemies are?”
“That’s right,” Viggo smirked, in his eyes a manic glee, and was Ruffnut not scared for her life she would’ve said a lot more. But she was aching with the knowledge that according to these brutes, girls didn’t spit in the face of the enemy. They just broke and let themselves be broken.
One of the guards knife pressed a knife to her arm, just enough to break the skin, drawing a thin line of blood. Ruffnut hissed in pain, her body tense as the sharp sting of the blade burned into her. She exhaled deeply, trying to focus on something other than the pain. Her stomach lurched, a frightful sick feeling sitting deep in her gut like bad mutton.
“Stop!” Hiccup screamed again, his voice cracking. “Stop it, Viggo! If you want me, take me—but leave them out of this!”
Viggo’s eyes flicked to him, a dark amusement dancing in them. “Hiccup, you’re always so noble. So willing to throw yourself into the fire for your friends. How quaint.” He turned back to Ruffnut, his lips curling into a smirk. “But it’s not me you should be worried about, is it?”
Ruffnut’s eyes shone with defiance, even as the blood dripped slowly from the shallow cut. “I’m not afraid of you.”
The guard pressed the knife deeper.
“Ruffnut!” Hiccup cried. “Please—just—stop!”
But there was no stopping it.
Ruffnut’s breath quickened, her body trembling with the strain, but she refused to beg. She didn’t scream. She didn’t give them the satisfaction. Even as the blade cut deeper, even as her blood pooled on the floor, she didn’t break.
The room was thick with the scent of blood, the echoes of Hiccup’s frantic shouts reverberating in her ears. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. All there was was fear, and below that the burning, aching pain. It seemed to consume her very being, overrunning her mind.
But she refused to break. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She couldn’t . The knife withdrew, but the damage had been done. Ruffnut’s blood stained the wooden floor. She felt like collapsing to the ground, her breath ragged, but the guard kept her painfully upright. Viggo remained where he stood, coldly observing.
“This is only the beginning, Hiccup,” he said, his voice almost tender. “You will watch. You will see your friends suffer. And you will think that you could have stopped it if you weren’t so stubborn.” He paused, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “But I think you’ll find that sometimes, it’s too late to stop it.” He stood at that, and Ruffnut fell to the floor as the guards dropped her. She was completely overtaken by the blinding pain as she hit the floor, and when she could finally bring herself to pry her eyes open Viggo was gone.
The cell was silent now, the only sound the faint drip of blood from Ruffnut’s arm as it pooled on the cold stone floor. Hiccup’s breath came in short, ragged gasps. Astrid was worryingly quiet. Ruffnut felt dizzy, chest tight with horror and helplessness. Her mind was a jumbled mess, every part of her wanting to scream, to rush to her friends, to do anything that might stop Viggo from tearing them apart. But all she could manage was a soft, weak apology, more of a breath than a word.
The blood from the cut on her arm had darkened, staining her sleeve and the floor beneath her. Every breath she took felt like dragging shards of glass into her lungs, but she forced herself to breathe, forced herself to focus on the rhythm of it, slow and shallow as it was. The edges of her vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the corners, but she refused to give in. Not here. Not now.
Hiccup’s voice broke through the suffocating silence, trembling with rage and despair. “Ruffnut... I’m so sorry.” His words came out strangled, as if they physically hurt to say.
She turned her head slightly, enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were wide and glossy, his cheeks flushed with the heat of his frustration. She could see the deep, raw guilt etched into every line of his face, and it gutted her more than the knife had. “Don’t,” she rasped, her voice cracked and broken. “Don’t you dare... blame yourself.”
Astrid shifted in her corner, her back still pressed against the wall. Her blue eyes were sharp, darting between Hiccup and Ruffnut, calculating their next move. Her hands were raw from struggling against her bindings, and her jaw was clenched so tightly it seemed her teeth might shatter. “We need to think,” she said finally, her voice a low growl. “Viggo’s not going to stop. He wants to break us, and if we let him...”
“We won’t,” Ruffnut interrupted, though her voice was barely above a whisper. She clenched her jaw, using the last reserves of her strength to push herself up onto her knees. Her body screamed in protest, but she wouldn’t stay on the floor. She wouldn’t let Viggo have that, even if he wasn’t here to see it.
Hiccup let out a shaky breath, his chains rattling faintly as he slumped forward. His hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, and his entire body seemed to tremble under the weight of his helplessness. “I don’t know how,” he muttered. “I don’t know how to stop him without giving him everything.”
Ruffnut tilted her head toward him, her bloodied lips curling into a faint smirk despite the pain. “Then we don’t stop him,” she said, her voice a quiet defiance. “We outlast him. At least until the others arrive.”
None of them dared to think about the possibility that the others wouldn’t ever arrive. They had to believe they would. Otherwise, what was the point in surviving? The air in the cell grew colder, biting into their skin like the teeth of winter itself as they lapsed into silence once more. Ruffnut pressed her forehead to the stone wall behind her, its icy touch grounding her against the chaotic whirl of pain and fear threatening to overwhelm her. The coppery tang of blood filled her nostrils, thick and cloying.
She felt her body falling to the floor, and she couldn’t find any part of her that had enough energy to stop it.
Her eyes fluttered shut, and she drifted in and out of a fitful sleep. Each time she slipped too far into the darkness of unconsciousness, her body rebelled, jolting her awake with a ragged gasp. Her chest heaved, and her vision swam with dim, overlapping shadows that danced on the cold stone walls. For a fleeting moment, she thought she might wake in Valhalla, welcomed by roaring fires and mead overflowing from golden horns. But each time she came to, the biting cold of the cell welcomed her with open arms.
Somewhere in the haze of her fractured thoughts, the sound of approaching footsteps began to take shape. At first, it was distant—nothing more than a murmur against the thrum of her own pulse in her ears. But it grew louder, heavier, each step pounding against the stone floor with deliberate intent. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up, her muscles tensing despite their trembling weakness.
Ruffnut’s eyes snapped open. The haze lifted just enough for her to make out the faint shift of light from the narrow crack beneath the door. Her pulse quickened, each beat sending another jolt of searing pain through her battered form. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to suppress a groan, the metallic taste of blood grounding her.
The door creaked open, the sound sharp and grating in the oppressive silence. Light spilled into the cell, golden and harsh against the suffocating gloom. It illuminated every crack in the walls, every smear of blood on the floor, and the hollowed, desperate faces of her companions. But Ruffnut didn’t flinch. Her gaze remained locked on the figure in the doorway.
Viggo stepped inside, his boots clicking softly against the stone as he moved with the same measured precision as always. She hadn’t thought she’d slept long enough for him to grow bored again. His silhouette stretched across the room, long and foreboding, casting shadows that seemed to reach for her like claws. He paused, surveying the room with an air of quiet amusement, his lips curling into a faint, almost polite smile.
Ruffnut forced her body to move. It protested violently, every muscle screaming in defiance, but she refused to stay crumpled on the ground like a discarded rag. She shifted just enough to press her back against the wall, her breaths shallow and rapid as she straightened her shoulders.
Her lips pulled back into a feral grin, teeth bared like a cornered wolf ready to bite. Her bloodied hand pressed weakly to her side as she leaned forward ever so slightly, her eyes burning with defiance that no amount of pain could extinguish. She wouldn’t let him see her fear.
“Come on, then,” she rasped, her voice raw and cracked, but steady enough to cut through the silence. “Let’s see what else you’ve got.”
For a moment, Viggo simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, a low chuckle escaped his lips, soft and chilling, like the sound of ice splintering beneath your feet. He took another step forward, the shadow of his form consuming her entirely.
“You still have some fight left,” he murmured, his tone dripping with mock admiration. “Good. It’s more satisfying that way.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs, sending fresh waves of pain radiating from the gash on her arm. The world around her felt razor-sharp in its clarity: the damp chill of the stone beneath her, the metallic tang of her blood, the shallow, uneven breaths of her companions. Fear was a living thing inside her, clawing at her chest, but she swallowed it down, forcing herself to focus on the man before her.
She didn’t shrink beneath his gaze. Her grin widened, blood staining her teeth as she forced her battered body to hold its ground. If he wanted to finish the job, she’d make damn sure he had to fight for every moment of weakness. Let him come. Let him try.
She wasn’t broken yet. And she’d make damn sure he knew it.
Viggo knelt, his movements deliberate and almost languid, as though savoring the moment. His face hovered close to hers, the smirk never leaving his lips. “I have to admire your resolve,” he murmured, his voice as smooth as silk. “It’s rare to see someone so willing to bleed for their cause.” He tilted his head, studying her like one might an intriguing puzzle. “But tell me, Ruffnut, how much of that resolve is for them—” he gestured lazily toward Hiccup and Astrid, “—and how much is for you?”
Ruffnut clenched her jaw, refusing to answer. Her gaze bore into him, her breath hot and labored as her fingers curled into fists against the cold stone. It was impossible to talk right now without pushing forward the tight ball of fear that sat in her throat, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her voice breaking. Not now. Not ever.
“I see,” Viggo said after a moment, the amusement in his tone growing. “Perhaps you think silence will spare you. That if you endure enough, I’ll grow bored and move on to someone else.” His smile sharpened, his eyes gleaming with malice. “But I don’t bore so easily.”
Behind him, Hiccup struggled against his chains, his voice raw with desperation. “Leave her alone, Viggo! You’ve made your point! Whatever you want, I’ll—”
“Enough.” Viggo’s voice cut through the air like a whip, silencing Hiccup with chilling finality. He didn’t even spare him a glance, his focus entirely on Ruffnut. “Your noble sacrifices bore me, Hiccup. They always have.”
Ruffnut’s lip curled, her defiance flaring like a dying ember refusing to go out. “You think... this scares me?” she rasped, her voice cracked but steady. “You’re nothing but a coward... hiding behind your knives and your guards.”
Viggo’s smirk faltered, just for an instant, before he regained his composure. “A coward, am I?” he mused, rising slowly to his feet. His eyes darkened, the faint amusement draining from his expression. “Let’s see how brave you are when the stakes are raised.”
Ruffnut's muscles were already tight from the knife wound, her body throbbing in time with her heartbeat, but when she saw what one of Viggo guard’s held in his hand, her breath caught. It was a branding iron, its end glowing a molten red, shimmering with waves of heat that distorted the air around it. She felt the temperature rise, oppressive even at a distance, and her stomach sank. Her skin prickled with an anticipatory sting, and the damp air in the cell felt suffocating against her sweat-slicked skin.
“No!” Hiccup’s voice cracked, the sound laced with anguish. “Viggo, stop this! Please, stop!”
Astrid’s chains rattled as she struggled, her face pale but her eyes blazing. “You don’t have to do this,” she spat, her voice low and venomous. “You’ll regret it.”
“Will I?” Viggo said, turning toward her briefly with a cold smile. “I suppose we’ll see.” He gestured to the guard, who stepped closer to Ruffnut, the brand’s heat radiating in waves that prickled against her skin. Her heart pounded, her breath shallow, but she didn’t flinch. She wouldn’t. Not for him.
As the brand hovered inches from her skin, Viggo leaned close again, his voice a sinister whisper. “Let’s see how long that fire of yours lasts, Ruffnut. Let’s see if you’re still smiling by the time I’m done.”
But as the brand descended, Ruffnut did something he didn’t expect. She laughed—a weak, rasping sound that bubbled up from somewhere deep within her. It was raw and pained, but it was defiant, her grin splitting her bloodied face. “Do your worst,” she breathed, her voice trembling but unbroken. “You’ll never win. Not like this. You’re too much of a coward to even do it yourself.”
Viggo’s eyes narrowed, the crack in his composure widening. For a moment, it seemed as though he might strike her himself, his hand twitching at his side. But instead, he stepped back, his smile returning, though it was tighter, forced. “Brave words,” he said coolly. “Let’s see how long they last.”
Ruffnut didn’t speak this time, watching as Viggo held out a hand to the guard, who dropped the brand in it. His hand momentarily drooped with the weight. Her throat was dry, and every fiber of her being screamed at her to shrink back, to beg, to find some way out. But she clenched her teeth and lifted her chin, forcing her eyes to lock with his. If this was going to happen, she would face it head-on. She wouldn't let him have the satisfaction of seeing her fear.
“You’ll remember this, Ruffnut,” Viggo said softly, almost tenderly. “Every time you move, every time someone looks at you, you’ll remember who put it there. Me.”
She didn’t flinch as he crouched beside her, though the effort to keep her face steady cost her everything. The heat rolled off the iron in waves now, brushing against her skin like a warning. Her heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else—the sound of Hiccup’s panicked protests, the scrape of Astrid’s struggles against her chains. Nothing else existed but the unbearable anticipation of what was about to happen.
Viggo pressed a gloved hand to her shoulder, pinning her in place. The pressure was firm but unnecessary—she wasn’t going anywhere. Her body was stiff, frozen like prey cornered by a predator. He positioned the iron close enough to her collarbone that she could feel its heat without it yet touching. It was a searing, relentless warmth, like standing too close to a roaring fire, and she instinctively pulled back before the chains snapped her forward again.
“Hold still,” Viggo murmured, his tone mocking. “This will only take a moment.”
Then the iron touched her skin.
The pain was immediate, like lightning striking her all at once. A deep, blistering burn that seemed to sink into her very bones. Her back arched violently, a scream ripping from her throat before she could stop it. It was raw, guttural, a sound torn from the depths of her being. The world narrowed to that one point of contact, that unbearable, scorching agony as the brand seared into her flesh.
The smell came next—a nauseating mix of burning skin and singed hair that made her stomach churn. Her vision blurred, tears spilling down her cheeks as her body convulsed against the restraints. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All she could do was feel . The heat radiated outward, an ever-expanding wave of pain that set every nerve alight.
She bit down hard on her lip, trying to stifle the sobs that clawed their way out of her chest, but it was useless. Her body betrayed her, trembling and jerking against the chains as the brand burned its way into her skin. The hiss of the iron meeting flesh was deafening, a sickening reminder of her own vulnerability. It drowned out even Hiccup’s frantic shouts, though she could still see his horrified face through the haze of her tears.
Viggo didn’t pull the iron away immediately. He held it there, letting the heat do its work, until Ruffnut’s voice broke entirely, and her screams gave way to choking gasps. Her head lolled forward, her hair sticking to her damp forehead as she sagged against the wall, utterly spent. When he finally removed the brand, the sudden absence of pressure was almost as shocking as its presence. But the pain remained, an echo of fire that refused to fade.
Her skin felt raw and tight, the wound pulsing with each beat of her heart. Every breath sent fresh waves of agony coursing through her, and the air itself seemed to claw at the tender, blistered flesh. She could feel the brand’s shape etched into her, a raised, angry mark that would never fully heal.
Viggo stepped back, admiring his handiwork with a satisfied smile. “There. That’s better,” he said, his tone light, almost cheerful. “Now you’ll never forget who you’re dealing with.”
Ruffnut didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her body was trembling uncontrollably, her breaths shallow and ragged. The world swam before her eyes, darkness creeping at the edges of her vision. But even through the haze of pain, she forced herself to lift her head, to meet his gaze one last time.
Her voice was little more than a whisper, cracked and broken, but filled with a quiet, unyielding defiance. “Go... to hell .”
Viggo’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it widened. “Oh, Ruffnut,” he said softly, almost pityingly. “You’re spending enough time there for the both of us right now, aren’t you?.”
Ruffnut’s head fell forward again, her body sagging heavily against the chains as if every ounce of strength had been stolen from her. Her shoulders slumped, each breath a shallow gasp that barely reached her lungs. The raw, searing agony radiating from the brand burned deeper than her flesh—it burrowed into her.
Hiccup’s voice cut through the air, sharp with desperation and fury. “You bastard! She’s done nothing to you!” His struggles against the chains were frantic now, metal clanking with each movement. “You think this makes you stronger? Smarter? You’re nothing but a coward!”
Ruffnut could hear him, could feel his anger reverberate through the room, but she couldn’t summon the energy to acknowledge it. The pain consumed her, drowning out everything else. She felt cold now, the contrast to the searing heat of the iron leaving her shivering uncontrollably. Sweat trickled down her temple, mingling with the tears she refused to let fall freely, but fell anyway.
Astrid’s voice came next, a mix of fury and anguish. “You’ll pay for this, Viggo. I swear, you’ll regret ever laying a hand on her.”
Viggo chuckled, his calm demeanor unshaken. “Perhaps. But until that day comes, you’ll all learn your place. One by one, if necessary.” His footsteps echoed as he moved toward the cell door. “Consider this mercy. Next time, I won’t be so lenient.”
The heavy clang of the cell door closing rang through the chamber, signaling his exit. Silence followed, broken only by the sound of Ruffnut’s labored breathing and the faint clinking of chains as Hiccup and Astrid shifted, testing their restraints.
“Ruffnut,” Hiccup said softly, his voice trembling. “Hey... hey, can you hear me? Are you okay?” The words sounded ridiculous, even for him—of course she wasn’t fucking okay—but it sounded to her pain-addled mind that he couldn’t stop them from spilling out. “I’m so sorry... I should’ve stopped him... I—”
“Shut up,” Ruffnut rasped, her voice hoarse and barely audible. Each word was an effort, scraping against the dryness in her throat. She didn’t mean it harshly, but she couldn’t handle his guilt on top of everything else. “Just... shut up.”
Astrid strained against her bonds, her frustration evident in the way her muscles tightened with every futile attempt. “We need to get out of here. We need to get her out of here.”
Ruffnut’s head tilted slightly, her eyes fluttering open just enough to catch the blurred outlines of her friends. Her lips twitched into something resembling a smirk, though it was more grimace than anything else. “I’m not... dead,” she muttered weakly. “Don’t... start planning my funeral yet.”
Her attempt at humor was met with silence, the weight of her condition too heavy for them to laugh. Still, Hiccup’s jaw tightened, and he nodded firmly, more to himself than anyone else. “We’re going to get you out of here,” he said, determination hardening his voice. “I promise.”
Ruffnut let out a weak, broken laugh that turned into a cough. “Big words, Hiccup. Hope you’ve got a... big plan to back ‘em up.”
Astrid looked at her, her blue eyes fierce with both anger and an undercurrent of sorrow. “Save your strength, Ruff. You don’t have to prove anything to us.”
“Not... proving anything,” Ruffnut whispered. Her eyes closed again, and for a moment, it seemed like she might lose consciousness entirely. Then, barely audible, she added, “Just... don’t let him win.”
“We won’t,” Hiccup vowed, his voice steady now, though his hands trembled where they gripped his restraints. “I swear to you, we won’t.”
Despite her best efforts, Ruffnut drifted in and out of consciousness, her head heavy and lolling forward. The pain of the brand was an ever-present reminder, throbbing with a relentless heat that seemed to sear through her nerves. Each breath she took felt shallow, and every movement of her chest stretched the tender, burned skin. Despite her weakness, she forced her eyes open again once her head stopped spinning. The dim light in the cell felt oppressive, casting long shadows across the damp stone walls.
“Ruff,” Astrid called gently, her voice low but steady. “Stay with us, okay? Don’t check out on me.”
“Not going... anywhere,” Ruffnut murmured, the edges of her mouth twitching faintly. “As if... I could.”
Her words were faint, but they brought the smallest flicker of relief to Astrid’s face. Hiccup, still straining against his bindings, cast a frustrated glance toward the door, his jaw clenched tight.
“Ruff... we’ll get you out of this. I swear it.” There was something raw in his tone, a mixture of guilt and desperation. “I should’ve stopped Viggo before he—before this. I should’ve done something.”
Ruffnut forced her eyes open, narrowing them at him even though she could barely see his face. “Stop,” she croaked. “Not your... fault. He’s just... a psycho with... too much time.”
“He’s more than that,” Astrid said darkly, glancing toward the guard who still stood silently by the door. “And he’ll regret it when we’re out of here.”
The thought made Ruffnut smirk again, though it was weak and fleeting. “Love... the confidence,” she murmured. “Make sure... you punch him... once for me.”
“Once?” Astrid scoffed. “I’ll do more than that.”
“Good,” Ruffnut muttered, her voice barely audible now. She closed her eyes again, the exhaustion pulling at her like a weight she couldn’t lift. But she wasn’t ready to let go yet. Astrid turned her focus back to Ruffnut’s current sorry state, softening her voice.
“Can you still feel everything? Your hands, your feet?”
“Yeah,” Ruffnut croaked after a pause. “Everything hurts ... but... yeah.”
Astrid nodded. “Good. That’s good.” Ruffnut could tell that she was forcing herself to stay calm, her fingers curling into fists where they hung. Every instinct told her that Astrid was itching to fight, to break free and tear Viggo apart for what he’d done. But for now, Astrid had to think clearly—Ruffnut’s life depended on it, and she didn’t want to die next to Viggo.
“Ruff, listen to me,” Astrid said firmly. “You need to stay awake, okay? Talk to me. Anything—just keep talking.”
Ruffnut’s eyelids fluttered, and for a moment, she didn’t respond. Then, with a faint smirk that barely reached her eyes, she whispered, “You’re bossy... you know that?”
Astrid exhaled a breath that was almost a laugh. “You’ve mentioned it once or twice. Now humor me—tell me something. Anything.”
Ruffnut was silent for a long moment, her breaths shallow and uneven. When she finally spoke, her voice was so soft that Astrid had to lean closer to hear. “Remember... that time... we made Snotlout cry...?”
Astrid’s eyebrows lifted, and a small, genuine smile crossed her face despite everything. “Which time? You’re going to have to narrow it down.”
Ruffnut let out a faint huff of laughter, which quickly turned into a pained gasp. Her body jerked, and Astrid immediately reached out as if to steady her, though her bindings prevented her from doing anything. Ruffnut still appreciated the gesture. “Easy,” Astrid said quickly. “Don’t push yourself.”
Ruffnut clenched her jaw, breathing through the pain. “That time... at the waterfall,” she finally rasped. “Told him there were... eels in the water. He freaked out... jumped out so fast he—”
“Slipped on a rock and fell flat on his ass,” Astrid finished, her smile widening. “Yeah, I remember. He wouldn’t talk to us for a week after that.”
“Worth it,” Ruffnut murmured, her smirk faint but real . Astrid’s chuckle reached Ruffnut’s ears, soft but tinged with bitterness, like she was trying to hide just how bad things really were. It almost made Ruffnut smile, the way Astrid kept trying to act like she had it all under control.
“It was definitely worth it,” Astrid said, her voice light but her gaze heavy. “I think he still glares at us every time we go near water.”
Ruffnut’s lips twitched. “Can’t... blame him,” she muttered, her throat raw. “His ego... bruised... harder than his ass.”
A faint laugh came from Hiccup’s direction, though Ruffnut couldn’t quite make herself turn to look. Just hearing it was enough. “He acts like he’s over it,” Hiccup said, his voice carrying that soft warmth he used when he was trying to keep people calm, “but every time we bring it up, you can see him trying not to relive the humiliation.”
Ruffnut managed a small, crooked smirk. “Snotlout... the gift... that keeps giving.” Her lips felt cracked, her face stiff, but the joke was worth it. It made her feel more normal , like her world hadn’t been punched off it’s axis.
Astrid shook her head, her expression softer now as she looked at Ruffnut. Ruffnut caught the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes, but Astrid blinked them away quickly. “You’re a menace,” Astrid said, her tone both exasperated and fond.
“Yeah,” Ruffnut rasped, forcing her eyes open again, just for a moment. Astrid’s face was blurry, but the sharp edges of her concern were unmistakable. Ruffnut smirked weakly. “It’s... my charm.”
The way Astrid swallowed, her throat moving like she was choking back something she couldn’t say, almost made Ruffnut regret the joke. Almost. But Astrid’s expression stayed fierce, and Ruffnut knew she wasn’t about to let anything—or anyone—break her.
“We need to move,” Astrid said, her voice low but firm, the kind of voice Ruffnut had heard her use when she was trying not to panic. “We can’t wait much longer.”
“Working on it,” Hiccup muttered, his tone strained. “Just—give me a second.”
Astrid’s eyes flicked toward the guard by the door, and Ruffnut could feel the tension radiating off her like heat from a forge. When Astrid leaned closer, her voice softened again, but it carried that same steel underneath. “We’re getting out of here,” she said, her words so sure they almost felt real. “I swear it.”
Ruffnut let out a weak breath, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Don’t... make promises...” She had to pause to catch her breath, each word scraping against her dry throat like shards of glass. “You can’t... keep.”
Astrid’s jaw tightened, her eyes flashing. “I’ll keep it. No matter what it takes.”
Ruffnut’s smirk returned, faint and fleeting. “Bold,” she murmured. A sharp wave of pain flared across her side, forcing a gasp out of her before she could stifle it. Her whole body jerked in response, and she felt her control slipping for a moment before she steadied herself. “Let me know... how that works out... for you,” she managed, the words almost a whisper.
“Smartass,” Astrid muttered, her voice shaking just slightly. It made Ruffnut want to laugh, even if her body screamed at her every time she tried.
“Wouldn’t... have it... any other way,” she replied, her voice trailing off as exhaustion pulled at her, heavy and relentless. Her head lolled against the wall, and her eyes fluttered shut before she forced them open again, catching the blurry edges of Astrid’s worried face.
“Ruff, stay with me,” Astrid said sharply, her hands straining against the ropes that held her. “Don’t you dare check out now.”
Ruffnut inhaled slowly, trying to steady the ragged rhythm of her breathing. “Not... going anywhere,” she mumbled, her voice slurring. A small, defiant smirk crossed her lips. “Still gotta... see Astrid punch... Viggo... in the face.”
Astrid’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile breaking through the cracks in her expression. “I’ll make it a good one,” she promised, her tone fierce. “Just hold on, okay?”
“Okay,” Ruffnut whispered. The word barely made it past her lips, but she clung to it. She drifted in and out of awareness, the pain in her side a dull throb that spiked every time she moved—or tried to. The ropes digging into her wrists weren’t helping, but they seemed like such a small pain in the grand scheme of things. If anything, they served as a welcome distraction from the feverishly hot brand just beneath her collarbone that throbbed almost rhythmically as she drifted in and out of consciousness.
She forced her eyes open, catching fragments of conversation between Astrid and Hiccup. Astrid’s voice was sharp, commanding, though it cracked at the edges. Hiccup muttered under his breath, the sound of something scraping and snapping filling the room.
“Got it,” Hiccup hissed suddenly, his tone triumphant but hushed.
Ruffnut’s gaze shifted, and she caught a blurry glimpse of him holding a small blade. She blinked hard, trying to bring the scene into focus as Hiccup moved quickly toward Astrid, sawing at the ropes binding her wrists. She didn’t know where they got the blade, but she certainly wasn’t in any position to waste time with recounting events.
“Hurry,” Astrid whispered, her voice tight. She glanced at the guard by the door, who still hadn’t moved. His back was turned, but Ruffnut could hear his steady breathing, oblivious to their efforts. “We don’t know how long we’ve got.”
“I know,” Hiccup replied, his hands moving with practiced precision. The ropes gave way with a faint snap, and Astrid immediately stood, stretching sore muscles.
“Get Ruff,” Astrid ordered, her eyes already scanning the room, calculating their next move.
Hiccup nodded, crouching beside Ruffnut. His face came into view, pale but focused, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Ruff,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost soothing. “Stay with me, okay? We’re getting you out of here.”
“Better... make it fast,” Ruffnut rasped, her lips twitching in a faint smirk. She felt the ropes at her wrists loosen, then fall away, and the relief was instant, even though her arms felt like lead, and she wasn’t sure she could even stand , let alone walk .
Astrid moved toward the door, her movements silent and deliberate. She paused just behind the guard, her expression fierce as she raised the blunt edge of a loose wooden beam she’d pried from the wall earlier. Ruffnut couldn’t see the blow, but she heard the dull thunk as the guard crumpled to the floor.
Astrid turned back, her chest heaving as she dropped the beam. “We’re clear—for now. Can you move?”
Hiccup helped Ruffnut sit up, his hands steady on her shoulders. The motion sent a sharp wave of pain through her side, and she hissed, biting down on a groan.
“Not... my best day,” she muttered, but she forced herself to move, leaning heavily on Hiccup as he helped her to her feet. She pushed herself off him, swaying for a moment as she squeezed her eyes shut, willing the waves of pain and nausea to subside. Once the pain was more manageable, she tentatively braved a step, and when that didn’t make her feel like she was going to pass out anymore, she took another.
Astrid was already at the door, peering into the hallway. “Coast is clear,” she said, though her voice was low and tense. She turned back to Hiccup. “We need to get to the lower levels. That’s where they’re keeping the dragons—and hopefully an exit.”
They slipped into the hallway, Astrid leading the way with her usual warrior’s grace, her eyes scanning for any sign of movement. Hiccup stayed close behind, watching Ruffnut as they moved as quickly and quietly as they could. Every step was agony, but Ruffnut gritted her teeth, refusing to slow them down.
“Left here,” Astrid whispered, glancing back at them. “Stairs should be ahead.”
“Stairs?” Ruffnut muttered, half-laughing despite the pain. “Perfect. Just what I needed.”
“Don’t worry,” Hiccup said, his voice light but strained. “We’ll take it slow.”
Astrid paused at the corner, holding up a hand to stop them. Ruffnut could see her muscles tense, her eyes narrowing as she listened. A moment later, she relaxed, motioning them forward. “All clear,” she said, her voice low.
They reached the stairs, a steep, narrow set that spiraled downward into shadows. Astrid started down first, her footsteps light and measured. Hiccup followed, keeping a firm hold on Ruffnut as she leaned heavily against him. She let him support her, desperate to not seem weak but knowing her limits nonetheless. Getting herself killed by passing out and falling down the stairs was certainly not the way she wanted to die.
“Dragons are close,” Hiccup murmured, his eyes lighting up with a mix of hope and determination. “I can hear them.”
“And guards,” Astrid added grimly, her hand tightening around the small blade she’d kept. She glanced at Ruffnut, her expression softening for a moment. “Just hold on a little longer. We’re almost there.”
The air grew thicker with the earthy musk of dragons as they descended, the sound of faint roars and restless movement confirming they were close. Ruffnut could hear the steady beat of her own heart, a stark contrast to the sharp stabs of pain in her side with every step. She gritted her teeth, focusing on the voices ahead and the goal that waited beyond them: freedom.
Astrid reached the bottom of the stairs first, her movements precise as she pressed herself against the wall and peeked around the corner. She held up a hand, signaling for silence before motioning them closer.
“There are three guards,” she whispered when Hiccup and Ruffnut caught up. “Two near the main doors to the stables and one by the cages.”
Hiccup frowned, his eyes darting to Ruffnut. “We can’t fight them all, not like this. We need a distraction.”
Astrid’s gaze shifted to the room beyond. “The stables are full of dragons. If we can get them riled up, it might draw the guards away.”
“And how exactly are we going to do that?” Ruffnut rasped, leaning heavily against Hiccup. “Ask politely?”
Astrid shot her a dry look. “I’m thinking of something a little louder.”
Hiccup’s expression brightened as an idea struck him. “If we can spook one of the less dangerous dragons into setting off a chain reaction—like a Gronckle or a Terrible Terror—they’ll make enough noise to get the guards’ attention.”
“And how do we not get caught in the crossfire?” Astrid asked, her tone skeptical. “I don’t know about you , but I want to get out of here with as little burns as possible.” Her eyes widened as she said it, and Ruffnut couldn’t find the energy to care too much. She smiled, though it didn’t feel vey reassuring.
“Me too.” It was almost a whisper, but it seemed to bring Astrid a little peace, if only for a few minutes. Hiccup, deep in thought, turned to Astrid.
“We don’t have to be close,” Hiccup said, his voice gaining confidence. “If I can get into position near the cages, I’ll free a couple of dragons while you distract the guards. They’ll panic and the rest will follow.”
Astrid hesitated, glancing at Ruffnut. “What about her?”
“I’ll stay out of the way,” Ruffnut said, though the strain in her voice made it clear how much effort it would take just to keep standing. “I’m not dead yet, so don’t treat me like you’re carrying my body out already.”
Astrid’s jaw tightened, but she nodded. “Fine. Hiccup, you’re on the cages. I’ll take care of the guards at the door.”
“And I’ll be here,” Ruffnut muttered, sinking against the wall. “Moral support.”
Astrid smirked faintly before gripping Hiccup’s arm. “Be quick, and don’t get caught.”
“I never do,” he replied, though the flicker of doubt in his eyes betrayed his nerves.
With a final glance at Ruffnut, Astrid moved, slipping into the shadows like a ghost. Hiccup lingered for a moment, adjusting his grip on the small blade he carried, before turning to Ruffnut. “Stay here. Don’t move unless you have to.”
“No promises,” she said, smirking faintly despite the pain.
Hiccup offered a tight smile, then disappeared into the dimly lit stables. Ruffnut closed her eyes briefly, listening to the faint rustle of movement and the low rumble of dragon growls. Every second felt like an eternity, her mind spinning between hope and fear.
Then, chaos erupted.
A deafening roar split the air, followed by the sound of wood splintering and metal clanging. Ruffnut’s eyes snapped open just in time to see a Gronckle burst from its cage, its stubby wings beating frantically as it crashed into a stack of barrels. The guards shouted in alarm, rushing toward the commotion.
Astrid moved like lightning, darting behind the two guards near the door and striking one with the hilt of her blade. The man crumpled without a sound, his companion turning just in time to see Astrid’s fierce glare before she brought her knee into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He dropped to the ground, gasping.
Hiccup, meanwhile, worked feverishly at another cage. A Nadder screeched as its door swung open, leaping into the fray with a burst of brilliant blue scales. It barreled toward the third guard, sending him sprawling. The dragons in the remaining cages grew louder, thrashing and roaring as panic spread through the stables.
“Hiccup!” Astrid shouted, motioning toward Ruffnut. “Get her out of here!”
Hiccup turned, his face pale but determined. He sprinted back to Ruffnut, sliding to her side and looping her arm over his shoulder. “Can you move?” he asked urgently.
“Barely,” she muttered, but she pushed herself upright, leaning heavily on him as they stumbled toward the door. The stables were chaos now, dragons roaring and clawing at their enclosures, their panic filling the air with a deafening cacophony. Ruffnut watched, heart in her throat, as Hiccup desperately searched the cages for the only thing that stood between them and freedom - Toothless. Some dreadful, pessimistic part of her told her that Viggo wouldn’t keep Toothless with all the other dragons; he was far too valuable. But she didn’t listen to that part, wanting more than anything to believe that they were going home.
But, of course, that part of her was rapidly, brutally killed in active duty.
"Going somewhere?" Viggo's voice, smooth and cruel, sliced through the quiet like a blade. Ruffnut’s body froze, and for a moment, she thought she might collapse right there. Her pulse quickened, her throat constricting as she fought to stay upright. She could barely see him through the haze, but the malicious satisfaction in his voice was unmistakable.
Astrid didn’t hesitate. She raised her fists, ready to strike, but Viggo was already moving. He was faster than she expected, stepping forward with the grace of a predator, and Ruffnut couldn’t tear her eyes away from the scene no matter how badly she wanted to.
“You really want to do this, girl?” he asked with an infuriating calmness. “You think I don’t have a plan for every little thing you try?”
Ruffnut’s vision swam as her body trembled with pain. She had to fight. She had to do something, anything, to stop him from hurting them. But the weight of her body seemed too heavy, her arms too weak, her legs too shaky to keep standing. She felt the heat of the brand beneath her collarbone pulse in time with her racing heartbeat. She was weak. They were all weak. And for a moment, the anger that had fueled her earlier seemed to drain away, leaving only the bitter taste of failure in her mouth.
The next moment, however, brought with it the distant roar of dragons, shattering through the night. The wind carried with it the unmistakable battle cries of the Riders—fierce, unrelenting, and close .
Viggo’s smirk faltered, his calculating gaze flickering to the shifting shadows along the corridor. He sensed the change in the air before he could fully comprehend it—a hunter suddenly aware that he was no longer the predator, but the prey. Then came the impact.
A blur of motion—swift and merciless—descended upon the unsuspecting guards. The clang of metal rang out as weapons clashed, and chaos erupted in an instant. The heavy wooden door of the cell was thrown open with a thunderous crash, the force rattling the very walls of their prison.
And there, framed by the flickering torchlight, stood Snotlout. His broad silhouette filled the doorway, shoulders squared, chest heaving. His eyes, usually alight with arrogance and mischief, burned with something far more dangerous now—a steeled, unyielding resolve.
The guards hesitated, momentarily frozen by the sheer force of the ambush. It was all the Riders needed.
“No!” Viggo’s voice cut through the melee, a venomous snarl laced with fury. His composure cracked, rage contorting his features as he lunged forward, desperate to wrest control of the situation. But it was already slipping through his fingers like sand.
Snotlout surged into the room, a force of raw power and unrelenting aggression. With a vicious swing of his axe, he sent one guard sprawling, his body skidding across the stone floor with a sickening thud. Another enemy moved to strike, but Snotlout met him head-on, using his sheer momentum to barrel into him like a human battering ram. The impact sent the man crashing backward, his weapon clattering uselessly to the ground.
Viggo snarled, regaining his balance as he scanned the chaos. The battle was slipping from his grasp, the precision of his carefully laid plans unraveling before his eyes. He had accounted for their tenacity, for their cleverness—but not for this. Not for the unrelenting fire in their eyes, the way they fought like cornered animals with nothing left to lose.
Astrid didn’t wait for him to recover. She lunged, her fist connecting with his jaw in a brutal, satisfying crunch. Viggo stumbled back, lips curling over bloodied teeth, but he didn’t fall. He turned to strike her in return, but she was already moving, ducking under his arm and driving her knee into his ribs.
Ruffnut, still leaning against the wall, forced herself to move. Her body screamed in protest, the pain from the brand searing through her like molten iron, but she ignored it. She spotted a fallen dagger near her feet and staggered toward it, gripping the handle with unsteady fingers. Every muscle in her body ached, her vision blurred at the edges, but she wasn’t about to stand by and watch. Not anymore.
She turned just in time to see Viggo lash out, catching Astrid’s arm in a brutal grip, twisting it behind her back. Astrid let out a sharp gasp, pain flickering across her face, but she didn’t cry out. Viggo bared his teeth. “You should’ve run when you had the chance,” he growled, his grip tightening.
Ruffnut didn’t think. She just moved.
With the last of her strength, she threw herself forward, slashing the dagger across Viggo’s forearm. The blade wasn’t sharp enough to do real damage, but it was enough of a shock that he recoiled, his grip on Astrid slipping.
Astrid wrenched free, twisting and driving her elbow into his ribs. Viggo staggered, but before he could regain his footing, Snotlout was there.
“You’re done,” Snotlout growled. His fist crashed into Viggo’s face with all the force of a tidal wave. Viggo hit the ground hard, blood splattering across the stone floor.
For a moment, the world was still. The only sounds were the heavy breathing of the Riders, the distant roars of dragons, and the crackling of burning wood.
Then, a deafening explosion shattered the silence.
The walls trembled, the floor quaking beneath them as fire erupted from the far end of the stables. The dragons were breaking free.
Hiccup’s voice rang out from the chaos. “Toothless!”
And then—finally—Ruffnut saw him.
Through the smoke and flames, a sleek black figure leapt into the air, his green eyes flashing like firelight on the sea. Toothless.
He tore through the air like a shadow given form, wings slicing through the smoke as he searched desperately for Hiccup. And then—he found him.
Hiccup barely had time to brace before Toothless was upon him, knocking him back with the sheer force of his relief. The dragon pressed his head into Hiccup’s chest, his body trembling, a broken sound escaping him that was equal parts snarl and whimper.
Hiccup’s arms wrapped around him instantly. “I’m here, bud,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
The fire spread fast, licking up the wooden beams of the stables, filling the air with thick, choking smoke. Ruffnut coughed, pressing a hand to her aching ribs as she stumbled forward. Her body screamed at her to stop, to drop to the floor and let unconsciousness take her, but she forced herself to move.
They had to get out. Now .
Toothless crouched, muscles coiled, ready to take off with Hiccup. Across the battlefield, dragons were breaking free of their cages, some taking to the skies immediately, others fighting alongside their Riders to push back Viggo’s forces. The clang of weapons, the snarls of desperate men—it all blurred together in the chaos.
Snotlout grabbed her arm, his grip firm but careful. “You good?” His voice was rough, tense, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes.
She didn’t have the energy to roll her eyes at him, so she just nodded. “Peachy,” she rasped.
“Right.” He didn’t look convinced, but there wasn’t time to argue. He turned, throwing himself back into the fray, swinging his axe at an enemy who got too close.
Ruffnut’s gaze swept the battlefield, searching. Where was Tuff?
She spotted him through the smoke, locked in a vicious struggle with one of Viggo’s men, both of them grappling for control of a sword. Her twin was exhausted, his movements sluggish, but he was holding his own—barely.
Adrenaline surged through her. She pushed forward, ducking low as an arrow whizzed past her ear, the heat of the fire scorching her skin. The dagger was still clutched in her hand, her grip tight, her knuckles white. She didn’t think—she just moved.
She crashed into the soldier’s side, knocking him off balance. Tuffnut seized the opening, yanking the sword from the man’s grip and driving his knee into his gut, sending him sprawling.
He turned to her, eyes wide with something almost like disbelief. “Whoa.”
Ruffnut swayed on her feet, struggling to stay upright. She forced a smirk. “Took you long enough to notice I was awesome.”
Tuffnut’s grin was brief, but it was there. “C’mon, we gotta move.”
Before either of them could take another step, a furious snarl cut through the air.
Viggo.
He was back on his feet, blood dripping from his nose, his eyes burning with rage. He had lost, and he knew it—but he wasn’t going down without a fight.
He lunged, sword raised, aiming straight for Hiccup’s back.
Ruffnut didn’t think.
She threw herself forward, grabbing the first thing she could—a broken spear from the wreckage. With a raw, desperate cry, she swung. The spear struck true, slamming into Viggo’s wrist with enough force to send his weapon flying. He let out a snarl of pain, clutching his injured hand, his glare snapping to her with murderous intent.
But then the ground trembled.
A deafening roar tore through the night, shaking the very air around them. From the smoke, a massive form emerged—Hookfang, his scales blazing like the fire itself. Viggo barely had time to react before Hookfang’s tail swept out, catching him across the chest and sending him hurtling backward. He hit the ground hard, skidding across the stone, his body crumpling against the wreckage of the burning stables.
Silence fell.
For a long, breathless moment, Ruffnut could only stare at the unmoving form of their greatest enemy, her heart pounding in her ears.
Then—Hiccup’s voice, sharp and urgent. “We have to go! Now!”
She turned, blinking the smoke from her eyes, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Barf and Belch loomed ahead, their scales slick with sweat and soot, eyes wide and wild with battle fervor. Tuffnut was already climbing onto their backs, turning to offer her a hand.
Ruffnut hesitated.
Her pulse roared in her ears, her body screaming for rest, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over—not really. Viggo was down, but she knew men like him didn’t stay buried for long.
“Ruff!” Tuffnut shouted. “Move it, before you get torched like a fish on a spit!”
A crash to her right—a burning beam collapsing into the rubble. The ground trembled.
She swallowed hard and grabbed his hand. His grip was solid, steady, anchoring her as she hauled herself onto their dragon. Barf and Belch rumbled beneath them, shifting anxiously as smoke swirled through the air.
Ahead, she saw the others mounting up—Hiccup and Astrid on Toothless, Snotlout swinging himself onto Hookfang, Fishlegs urging Meatlug into the air. The battlefield was disappearing in flames and shadows, and the night sky above beckoned like salvation.
Hiccup turned in his saddle, eyes scanning the chaos. “We’ve got to save the rest of the dragons!”
Astrid leaned close, gripping his arm. “Hiccup, we can’t carry all of them.”
She was right. Some of the freed dragons were already taking flight, but others were still grounded, too panicked or exhausted to move. The fire was spreading fast, trapping them between the wreckage and the cliffs beyond. Hiccup gave one last, pained look to the ships, before sighing deeply.
“Let’s go. We’ll get them next time.” Tuffnut didn’t need to be told twice, and it appeared neither did anyone else. He gripped the reins, and Barf and Belch surged upward, their wings beating hard as they lifted off. The rush of cold air stung Ruffnut’s raw skin, but she barely noticed. Below them, the ships were collapsing, flames consuming everything Viggo had built.
She glanced down one last time, expecting to see his body among the wreckage—but he was gone.
A chill that had nothing to do with the wind settled in her bones.
Tuffnut’s voice broke the silence. “Well, that was a solid zero on the fun scale.”
Ruffnut let out a breathless, exhausted laugh. “Yeah,” she murmured, watching as the sky stretched out before them, open and endless. “Let’s go home.”
And as they soared into the night, the bitter wind tearing at their clothes, Ruffnut’s eyes caught on Tuff’s chest—a blank expanse of pale skin where scars once bound them together. Her own burn throbbed beneath her shirt, raw and aching, a pain she had to bear alone . The pain of it—of being severed from him in a way she couldn’t undo—curdled in her throat. No salve, no stitch, no words of comfort could mend the cruel truth: they no longer carried the same wounds.
And for the first time in her life, she felt like half of something that had always been whole.