Chapter Text
“What in the name of Odin do you need that much slitherwing venom for?” Hiccup blurts out, gaping incredulously at all of the canisters lined up in front of him. “You know what? Don’t answer that.”
Viggo’s lips curl into a smile, and Hiccup pointedly doesn’t look back at the man again. He already knows what expression will be on his face. He already knows that his gaze will be too sharp and focused, and even though it’s been months, Hiccup still doesn’t know what to do with Viggo’s attention. It’s unsettling.
He’s been insufferable, especially after he got used to flights on Toothless. Now, Hiccup almost dreads when Viggo drops a hint that maybe they should go flying so Hiccup can show him more of what dragons are capable, and how one might perform certain aerial maneuvers. He uses it as an opportunity to talk. Incessantly. And they’re on the same dragon so Hiccup can’t simply find an excuse to bolt. Viggo knows it.
And he enjoys it.
The only time Hiccup can pretend he doesn’t hear him when they’re flying is when Viggo is on the skrill. He’s getting better at riding solo, but Hiccup almost misses those first few flights when the skrill went too fast or did some complicated maneuver that made him scream. Viggo, of course, vehemently denies that he screamed. But he did. And it was glorious.
… Hiccup doesn’t entirely regret showing him what it means to fly a dragon, if only because the dragon hunter chief has been far more willing to accept Hiccup’s suggestions for how to change dragon handling. That doesn’t mean he’s entirely thrilled with how Viggo has taken control of even that to use it to his advantage. Maybe Viggo isn’t hunting dragons the same way anymore, but some things about the man will never change.
“He’s trying to poison us,” Ruffnut whispers loudly. She sounds gleeful. “Death by slitherwing venom! What do you think it would feel like?”
“I dunno,” Tuffnut disagrees. “I don’t want to die because of a giant snake. I mean, how lame is that?”
Hiccup bites his tongue, so he doesn’t snap at them to shut up. No one says things like that in front of Viggo unless they want to become a lab rat in one of his sadistic experiments. Instead, he turns toward the rest of the riders. “Alright. Let’s get these crates loaded up. We want to be back to the ship before dark.”
With some muted grumbling, Snotlout obliges. Hookfang and Windshear each carry a crate of empty canisters. Somehow, they need to fill them without getting poisoned themselves… which is why Hiccup made leather gloves for everyone – which he fully intends to burn when they’re done with this.
This is far from the first mission that they’ve done for Viggo; it’s just the first one where they’ve been accompanied by dragon hunters. Viggo’s hunters are staying on the ship – but they’re there just in case.
Viggo rides the skrill, still unnamed, and they set out together. Why he insisted on coming personally, Hiccup doesn’t know. Undoubtedly, it’s meant to be part of some sort of teaching moment. Is Hiccup looking forward to it? Not really. Not at all.
Sometimes, he still feels jittery about interacting with Viggo in front of the other riders. They’ve promised that they support him, but Hiccup… still wonders. Do they think him a traitor for having agreed with the deal?
All of them felt so strongly about the dragon hunters before… this. Before Viggo. … Before Trygve and everything that Hiccup once believed was turned upside down. Maybe he should regret the deal more than he has, but it worked out, didn’t it? He brought peace, ended the war. And he was able to make things easier for the dragons while he’s at it. Doesn’t that count for something?
They land on the shore together, dragons clustering instinctively as they undoubtedly sense the presence of the slitherwings. Or perhaps they smell it; it’s hard to say. Hiccup looks around warily as he climbs off Toothless. This is definitely not going to be an easy mission. A sound next to him draws his attention, and he turns to see that Viggo has drawn his crossbow. “What are you doing?” he asks, frowning.
Viggo gives him a lingering look. “The best way to get the venom is if the dragon can’t fight back, dear heart,” he says mildly.
Hiccup crosses to him in a few quick steps, grabbing the weapon and forcing it down. “No.” His voice is firm, unyielding. “We are not going to hurt these dragons. Even if dragon root doesn’t have any long-lasting consequences, we are not going to hurt them.”
Viggo pauses, expression betraying his interest. “Then tell me, how do you plan to get close enough? Slitherwings are notoriously territorial.”
Hiccup goes back to Toothless’ side and retrieves the pouch that he placed there before they set out on their trip in the first place. “With this.” He pulls out a pinch of the grass within and hands it over. “Dragon nip. Give it to the skrill. You’ll see what I mean.”
Though the dragon hunter chief’s face reveals his disbelief, he does as Hiccup asks. The skrill flops onto the ground with a delighted purr in the back of his throat, and Hiccup can’t help but smirk, crouching down to scratch the dragon’s neck. “See? Easy. No dragon can resist, even gronckles. I think we’ll be just fine.”
Viggo pauses. “Very well,” he replies finally, “but I will hold onto my crossbow just in case.”
Hiccup shrugs. “It’ll work.”
They head toward the trees and bushes, watching their every step carefully. If they don’t move with caution, then Hiccup has no doubt that they’ll be swarmed and probably killed. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long before Hiccup can hear a too-familiar rustling, and he holds up a hand to stop everyone in their tracks. “We’ve got company.”
No sooner has he said the words then a pair of slitherwings come out from the bushes, hissing ferally. They circle around their group, bodies coiled and tensed, ready to strike on a moment’s notice.
“Uh… Hiccup, I think those dragons want to eat us,” Fishlegs exclaims fearfully. “They really are territorial.”
“Hey there,” Hiccup calls, taking a couple of steps forward, one hand reaching into the pouch as he grasps a handful of the grass in question. “We’re friends, I promise. No one here is going to hurt you.”
The dragons snarl and hiss, clearly disbelieving – and probably for good reason too. Before they can call for backup or get aggressive, Hiccup withdraws the dragon nip and throws it at them. The grass drifts through the air, caught by a breeze. The movement temporarily distracts the dragons, long enough for the scent of it to reach them. And when it does? They just... drop. They flop onto the ground, rolling around with a blissed-out purr that is exactly as unnerving to hear as their behavior is to see.
“Hurry it up,” Hiccup orders, pulling out more dragon nip to keep the pair distracted while the rest of the riders begin to frantically collect venom from the dragon’s scales.
The riders work together effortlessly with the practiced ease that they’ve developed after so long of being together. Even Heather, no matter that she’s the newest of them, fits in seamlessly. Hiccup keeps the dragons distracted, and Viggo watches them all, not even deigning to help. Soon, the canisters are all filled, and just in time, too; the dragon nip is gone, and they need to make a strategic retreat before the dragons become aware of what they did and get offended by it. Hiccup is not keen on being eaten by slitherwings today – or any day, for that matter.
They bolt for the shore and for their dragons, and Hiccup yells at Barf and Belch to lay down a wall of fire and smoke for them as they secure the crates, slide into the saddles, and fly away. That went well, all things considered, and Hiccup is rather proud of their success. It worked out much better than he expected.
Viggo leads them back to the ship, and the dragon hunters approach them to take the crates and secure them below. “We need Death Song amber,” Viggo announces once that’s done, and Hiccup turns toward him incredulously.
“What for? We don’t–” know one.
Except they do, actually. Hiccup might not have met the Death Song hatchling that the rest of the riders picked up, but he’s heard about it. The stories even inspired him to make a flaming sword. Inferno.
“… Fine.”
The dragon hunter chief seems amused, and Hiccup is very much not fond of the calculating gleam in the man’s eyes. “I thought it might be a good opportunity for us to fly together,” he says. “We can rest at your base. Dragon’s Edge.”
Oh. Hiccup resists the urge to sigh. Or facepalm. That’s the real reason Viggo wants to go, then. Not because of the Death Song. Not because of the other dragon-based items they can get. But because he wants to get a glimpse of their base up-close. Hiccup talked about it extensively in their letters back and forth, and he can’t blame the man for being curious. That doesn’t mean he’s ready to take him there… even if much of his reluctance actually stems from the fact that he isn’t entirely prepared for the rest of the riders to see him interacting with Viggo for such an extended period of time. It’s probably stupid of him to be so paranoid… or maybe it’s not.
The others are observant. They’ll notice.
And that means they’re going to ask questions, questions that Hiccup has no idea how to answer.
But he can hardly tell Viggo no; the man doesn’t take no for an answer. If Hiccup tries to refuse, he’ll come up with an even more creative and elaborate reason for why they absolutely need to go there. Might as well just do it. Even if Hiccup dreads what the consequences of such a thing could be.
He can tell that the rest of the riders aren’t exactly thrilled with Viggo’s request, either, but they still oblige. Hiccup sees them exchanging annoyed looks. Mainly Snotlout and Astrid which is saying something when the two of them rarely agree on anything.
And so, they head for the Edge. They have to alter their normal flying formations to make room for Viggo, who inevitably insists on flanking Hiccup. Hiccup hopes he can ignore the man, even if he’s not entirely certain how he’ll manage such a thing.
Yet once he gets into the air, he feels the weightlessness of freedom. Up here, it’s easy for him to shrug off the concerns that keep him bound to the earth, and his mind wanders to the problems which he needs to unravel. Changing the way the dragon hunters operate hasn’t been easy. The way they use and abuse dragons makes Hiccup sick just thinking about it, yet he has to force himself to put aside those feelings and find a better way for them to make the same profits. Viggo doesn’t care about morality, or who or what might be hurt along the way. He cares about results.
And that means Hiccup has to find solutions. He has to build things. He has to design things. So far, he’s done quite well at it – except for one particular aspect which he’s never been able to solve. Until now.
An idea occurs to him, and he slows Toothless’ pace so they’re flying next to the skrill. “Hey, Viggo, do you think we could find a way to use dragon scales to replace dragon skin?”
Intrigue lights his eyes – of course, it does. Viggo is always fascinated by Hiccup’s solutions, even if he doesn’t always agree with them. “Perhaps,” he agrees, “if you can find a way to make the end-result as fireproof.”
It’s so unfair that Viggo manages to look at home in the saddle as he does on the ground. It took the other riders a ridiculously long period of time to manage that effortless grace. In that regard, Hiccup was different. Flying Toothless came easily once he stopped overthinking and trusted his instincts.
“I could– crush the scales maybe?” Hiccup suggests, mostly thinking aloud – though he is admittedly slightly curious about what insight Viggo might have to offer. The man might be a manipulative psychopath, but there’s no denying that he is just as intelligent and clever as Hiccup himself. “Find a way to apply it to leather. If we could make it stick–”
“Then you might be able to successfully maintain the fireproof nature of the scales while allowing the armor or clothing to still be flexible enough to be practical,” Viggo finishes. “It is an ingenious solution– if it works, of course. You will have to apply it somehow. Something sticky enough to remain on the surface while not affecting the overall quality of the finished product.”
Hiccup tilts his head, considering. “Or maybe we could dissolve the scales somehow? Find a way to… turn them into dye. Would allow for many coloration options. People would like that, I think.”
“And we would have a monopoly on it,” Viggo adds, because that’s the part he cares about the most. “It would be far cheaper than any dragon skin armor. If it proves to be just as durable, customers would come to us instead of going to the other lone hunters who still kill dragons for their skin.”
“I’ll try something,” Hiccup promises, mind already whirling. He should talk to Fishlegs about it once they arrive. He has some supplies in the forge; otherwise, they’ll have to wait until they return to the hunter base in order to experiment properly. Utilizing scales in that manner would be extremely useful… if he can figure out how to do so. “I’ll figure it out. I know I can make it work.” Probably after a great deal of experimentation – and possibly some explosions or fires.
“I know you can, my dear boy,” Viggo answers, and his tone is too warm, too fond, and Hiccup feels abruptly self-conscious, curling inward on himself as his gaze falls away from Viggo to Toothless.
And for the rest of the flight, Hiccup wonders if he can really feel Astrid’s – and the others’ – eyes boring into him, or if it’s just his imagination. Maybe he should have waited to talk to Viggo. He already knows what he wants… mostly. Partially. But he hasn’t actually sat down with the rest of the riders to explain. An undertaking of this magnitude, trying to change the hunters from the inside, it’ll take years. Hiccup is only just beginning to establish the framework. The rest will follow, but it’s not going to be a fast process.
By committing to this, he doesn’t know what will happen with himself or with Berk, and he feels guilty for feeling so much freer with the hunters than he ever did on Berk. Does that make him a bad heir? A bad son? Is he allowing his own past insecurities to affect him to the point where he’s running away and making things worse? Maybe he’s just running; if he really wanted to go back to Berk, he knows that he could find a way. But he… doesn’t.
And it helps that Viggo wants him to stay. The dragon hunter chief makes it seem so easy. Surrendering to him wouldn’t even be hard. Viggo is good at manipulating him. The only reason Hiccup doesn’t give in is because he knows that Viggo doesn’t care for the dragons the same way that he does. Sure, he might be learning, but trust has to be earned, and Hiccup knows better than to trust Viggo too much.
Something tightens in his chest when he sees the Edge ahead of them. It’s been so long since he’s been back here; ever since he was captured in the arena and taken to Viggo, Hiccup hasn’t returned. The other riders have, but not him. Viggo has always insisted on keeping him close.
Their base looks the same, and it feels – being here feels almost like coming home. Hiccup lands outside the clubhouse, looking around. The table inside is still a mess, things in different places but still as disorganized as Hiccup remembers. He wanders down the path toward the forge, a feeling of relief sweeping through him when he sees that it’s the same as he left it. His inventions scattered across every available surface, tools abandoned haphazardly across the room, designs pinned to the walls as he jumped from one project to the next without pause.
“This place is… certainly something.”
Hiccup doesn’t jump. Even if he hadn’t heard Viggo following him, he already knew that he would be. “Took a while to set it up,” he answers, slowly entering the structure, fingers trailing lightly over the surface of a nearby worktable. “But everything I built, I built in here.”
When he turns, Viggo is looking around them, eyes sharp and assessing, making notes on everything. “How far did you get on that method to compress Zippleback gas in here?”
Hiccup started that design here, but he finished it with the hunters. He found a way to make explosives. Dangerous ones. Ones the twins would be delighted to test out if Hiccup even allowed them anywhere nearby. “You know I abandoned that project. I couldn’t do it safely without blowing the place up. Again. And I wasn’t going to take that chance.” Sarcasm creeps into his voice without him even meaning for it to. “It’s not as though I have hundreds of men who I can order to clean up the mess and rebuild the structure.”
Viggo gives him a lingering glance. “You do now.”
… Yeah, okay, he’s not going to touch that.
“You’re welcome in the clubhouse and the stables,” Hiccup says, changing the subject entirely because that’s safest. “You can stay at my hut while we’re here. And you can come in here– it’s not like I could keep you out. But the other riders’ huts are off-limits unless they invite you in.”
Something like amusement flits through his eyes. “Of course.”
“Great. I’d give you a tour, but I think you already know your way around.”
“Have you sent a letter to Berk yet?” The question catches Hiccup by surprise, and he freezes almost guiltily.
“I– uh… no?”
He knows he should have. They correspond regularly with Berk, and though Hiccup mentioned to Stoick and Gobber that he’s managed to arrange a peace treaty with the hunters to end the war, he never explained the details. Probably, Astrid or Fishlegs mentioned something in their letters back home which has reached Stoick, but Hiccup hasn’t explained it, and he’s been carefully dodging all of Stoick and Gobber’s questions for him. He can’t do that forever, but he – he’s just not ready. He doesn’t know if they’ll understand, and telling them will make all of this that much more real.
Is he really ready to commit to not going back to Berk for a while – if indeed he ever does? Hiccup has no idea what it would like for him to stay long-term with the hunters. He doesn’t know what Viggo plans for him, and he’s also afraid to ask about that. He’s not stupid; he knows that Viggo has schemes upon schemes, but he’s not ready to force the truth out of the man. Or at least whatever version of the truth Viggo is capable of sharing at that point in time.
And Viggo… of course, he knows why Hiccup is hesitating. He understands exactly how insecure Hiccup still feels about Berk and his life there. Maybe he hasn’t seen the new scars that Hiccup has from after they lost the Dragon Eye, but he saw the ones on there from before. He knows.
“The longer you wait, the more impatient Stoick will be,” Viggo points out. “At least based on what you’ve told me about him.”
Yes, and Hiccup isn’t looking forward to it.
Given how late in the day it already is, they all agree it’ll be best to spend the night on the Edge and head toward Melody Island first thing in the morning. Hiccup wants to think that everything is fine, but during the entire meal, the rest of the riders keep sneaking glances at him. Even though they’re trying to be subtle, they’re failing. What’s worse is that Viggo can see it, too. He’s watching them with an expression of mild curiosity on his face, not saying anything about it, just waiting for it all to blow up.
The claim about wanting to take a moonlit flight with the skrill simply seems like an excuse to leave… and abandon Hiccup to whatever is sure to follow.
The moment Viggo and the skrill are gone, the riders turn toward him.
“Hiccup, we need to talk,” Astrid says seriously. It’s clear she wants to be the one who leads the conversation, but of course, that doesn’t work.
“We really do,” Snotlout adds firmly. “Viggo is just… creepy.” He shudders dramatically. “I don’t know how you tolerate him.”
“With practice,” Hiccup deadpans even as his anxiety rachets upward. “What– what do you guys want?”
Astrid and Heather exchange a look. “I know we’ve been allied with the hunters for a few months,” Heather begins hesitantly, “but you and Viggo just seem… close. It’s not something I can explain really,” she rushes to continue before Hiccup can so much as open his mouth. “Call it an instinct.”
His heart sinks even lower, and Toothless presses up against his side, undoubtedly sensing Hiccup’s rising apprehension. Hiccup pets his head, the scales beneath his palm grounding him so he doesn’t begin to spiral. This is exactly what he was afraid of.
“We’ve spent a lot of time together,” Hiccup counters. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get him to agree to something? It’s hard. Very, very hard. I’ve debated with him so many times, even– even over the simplest things!” He’s rambling, a nervous habit that he can’t quite break, and from their expressions, he thinks they know it, too.
“Okay, I can understand that–” Astrid starts.
“He likes you!” Ruffnut interjects.
“Yeah, he once looked like he wanted to murder Ryker!” Tuffnut adds enthusiastically, nodding. “Just for interrupting him. And you do it all the time! He never kills you.”
“And he watches you. Like a lot,” Snotlout contributes. “It’s really weird and creepy. I don’t like it.”
They all chime in, throwing out their own observations, and Hiccup feels the pit inside of him grow, dread mounting. He keeps stroking Toothless, needing to keep his hands busy so he doesn’t panic.
“We’re just– we’re just worried,” Fishlegs tells him earnestly. “None of us like what he wants with you. And– and that’s the whole thing! We don’t know what he wants with you.”
Hiccup sighs, a sigh that feels as though it comes from the bottom of his soul. He doesn’t know how to explain the way that he and Viggo have bonded; he hardly understands it himself. But he does know that he can’t lie to them. They don’t deserve that, not when they’ve willingly followed him into this even if they don’t like it.
“You’re right,” he admits, and all of them fall silent. “We’re– we’re closer than we should be, probably closer than is even safe.” He shifts, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck as he tries to process his thoughts enough to turn them into words. “You guys remember back before we met Viggo when Toothless and I crashed in a storm? You nearly tore apart the entire area trying to find us.”
Snotlout scoffs. “Yeah, like we could forget something like that! You disappeared on a patrol without a sign. Scared us half to death for nothing.”
“You said you met someone?” Heather remembers, brow furrowing. “A trader or something? He helped you.”
Fishlegs is nodding now, too. “And you told us later that you had a contact in the Northern Markets. Someone who could help us. I assumed it was the same person.”
“Uh huh. Yeah.” Hiccup laughs, the sound forced. “So, uh, here’s the thing…”
Astrid goes still. “Hiccup.” Her tone is warning. “Don’t tell me–”
“So, uh, yeah,” he nods, not meeting her eyes. “Turns out it was Viggo. We– we exchanged letters. Like– like a lot?” He winces, keeping his gaze focused on the floor. “So, uh, we– we kind of got to know each other before we even met. That’s– that’s why I was willing to hear him out when he offered a truce in the first place.”
Around him, the riders are frozen, expressions ranging from shock to disbelief to murderous rage when Hiccup finally dares to look at them.
“We can kill him.” Astrid’s voice is low. “Right here. Tonight. Drug him. Sedate him. Then get rid of him.”
“Just say the word,” Heather chimes in, and Hiccup can hear a hint of bloodthirst in her tone. “We’ll do it. No one has to know.”
Hiccup’s shoulders sag, and he scrubs a hand over his face. “Gods. No. No, we are not killing anyone. We are not killing Viggo.”
“Could be fun though,” Ruffnut says wistfully. “Imagine the chaos of it.”
“He’s– he’s on our side, though,” Fishlegs interjects. “He– he has a dragon. We can’t kill him. That would be wrong.”
“Exactly!” Hiccup exclaims. “We can’t do that. If we do, we’re no better than him.”
“Are you saying that because you believe that, or because you like the guy?” Snotlout asks. It’s less of a demand and more with morbid curiosity, but it still rubs Hiccup the wrong way.
“We can’t just resort to murder!” he bursts out, annoyed. “Why does that have to be the answer to everything? Dragons attacking? Kill them! Don’t like someone? Kill him.” He tugs at his hair. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to convince Viggo not to go on a murder spree over something?” Which is a bit of an exaggeration, admittedly, but only a little bit.
“Hiccup, hey.” Astrid approaches, touching his arm. “It’s fine. We won’t kill him. I’m– we are with you. I don’t like him.” Her jaw clenches, expression stormy. “I don’t trust him. But I do trust you, okay? We all trust you. If you say we leave him alive, then we leave him alive. Let us know if you change your mind.”
“Yeah, we can make his body disappear so well that not even the bugs will remember it existed!” Tuffnut announces cheerfully. “Even the dust will forget!”
… Hiccup chooses not to try to understand what that sentence is even supposed to mean.
“You– you’re all really okay with this?” he asks, the words tumbling out before he can stop them. “Allying with the hunters? Working with Viggo? He and I–” He stops, sucks in a breath, and then restarts. “I can’t explain it, okay? Don’t ask me to. But he– he knows things about me. He–” His voice wavers for a millisecond, just long enough for them to catch it and for him to hate himself for it. “He understands me. How my mind works. He understands my ideas. This– this whole thing. Getting the hunters to accept dragons, changing the dragon trade… It can only work if he’s there. We need him.”
“I don’t like it,” Heather confesses finally, “but I’m with you, too. If– if he was pretending to be someone else… He’s been manipulating you from the start, and I don’t trust what he wants with you.”
Hiccup makes a face. “Yeah, I don’t trust it, either.”
“We got your back, Hiccy!” Tuffnut announces with far too much cheer, coming closer to throw an arm around his shoulders. “If he tries anything, we’ll stop him.”
Hiccup is quite certain that it will not be nearly that easy. Viggo doesn’t do things obviously; he works from the shadows, scheming, planning three steps ahead. There’s a reason why it’s so incredibly hard to play Maces and Talons with him and win. The man is almost undefeatable.
“I– thanks,” Hiccup answers, looking between them all. “I know this has been a huge change for you. From fighting the hunters to working with them…” He trails off with a quiet sigh. “I couldn’t blame you if you were against it.”
An awkward pause settles over them all.
“I mean, I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m not a fan of it,” Snotlout says firmly. “I’ll still…” He gestures vaguely. “You’re still our leader.”
“Thanks,” Hiccup replies. “I mean it.” He hesitates. “I guess we’d better get some rest. Who knows what Viggo has planned for us for tomorrow.”
He goes back to his hut with Toothless, and for once, he’s not afraid of what the future might hold. Well, he is, but he knows he won’t have to face it alone. The riders have his back, and that means they’ll pull him back if Viggo tries to push him too far. It’s obvious that he wants something with Hiccup… but what?
“What do you think, bud?” Hiccup asks quietly. “What do you think Viggo wants with me?”
Toothless coos up at him, nuzzling Hiccup’s neck and face, and Hiccup wraps his arms around Toothless’ neck and holds him close. I don’t know. Or maybe it’s I’ll watch your back, too.
“Yeah,” Hiccup mutters, leaning against his best friend and trying to push down the uncertainty that’s burning within him. He can stress about it all he likes, but that will change nothing. It’s unlikely that he’ll ever figure out what Viggo’s endgame is before he decides to make it known.