Chapter Text
Viggo woke to the sound of his own breathing—too loud in his own ears. For several moments, he remained still, trying to gauge what, exactly, was going on.
Something was wrong. He couldn’t tell what yet, but nothing felt… quite right.
The sound of the waves crashing against the hull of the boat were far louder than normal. Was there a storm? Usually Ryker would’ve woken him in those circumstances. Unless his brother had slept through it, somehow.
The next thing he heard was conversation, coming from… the area where the dragons were contained. The guards were slacking off, presumably. That being said, Viggo didn’t recognise any of their voices. He also didn’t realise he had recruited any women to work directly with the dragons…
Viggo decided he should get out of bed. First, he would pay a visit to the dragon cages to see who was talking. Then, he would head up on deck to survey the severity of the storm, and make a decision on whether or not to dock prematurely. They had to get to the Tribe of the Whispering Trees as soon as possible for negotiations over a particularly rare dragon, but that wouldn’t be possible if the storm carried winds against them.
He rose slowly, suddenly aware of how dizzy he felt. Everything began to spin around him, causing him to trip over his own feet. He went crashing to the floor, hand reaching for his nightstand to try and catch himself to no avail.
It was only once he hit the floor that the pounding headache began. It crashed through his mind, making it near impossible to think of anything else but the waves of pain now assaulting him. Then it began to spread, slowly at first, down his neck and chest, and then speeding up until his whole body was engulfed in more pain and discomfort than he knew what to do with.
Had he been poisoned? That was the only rational conclusion to this, he thought as his body twitched uselessly on the floor. He wanted so desperately to move—to get up, to talk to Ryker—but even the slightest movement made Viggo feel as if he were being torn from limb to limb.
He groaned in pain, arms instinctively wrapping around himself to try and numb the discomfort shooting through his stomach. He tucked his head downwards, making himself as small as possible in hopes that less pain would act on a smaller target. He wasn’t sure why he thought that, but it made sense.
As he looked down, however, his eyes widened in confusion.
His hands were… growing? Growing and changing shape. Skin was splitting, dark scales rising up through it. His hands only continued to elongate, and something sharp was growing from his nails, and were those claws?
What was happening?
Viggo groaned again as the pain surged back up his torso, as if his insides were exploding, and his head still hurt, and had his room always been this small? He looked weakly up at the mirror, which was now only about half a metre from his face.
Except that wasn’t his face staring back at him.
There was a dragon. A dragon. In his room. That he couldn’t see.
It lay sprawled on its side, with dark purple scales and one brown eye. The other was a milky white colour, with a scar akin to many he had given dragons in the past. Its wings hung uselessly beside it, and it looked entirely out of place. The dragon wasn’t any species he had seen before, but its shape was similar to that of Hiccup’s night fury.
There was an invisible dragon. Perhaps it was responsible for whatever poison had entered his system? Perhaps he was hallucinating? Perhaps—
Why was the dragon moving when he moved?
“Stay back.” Viggo growled, feeling entirely stupid for talking to a dragon that he couldn’t see. But… the only thing that came out was a low growl. No words escaped Viggo’s dry mouth. Only noise. Noise that made perfect sense to him, despite the fact he had never spoken it before.
His eyes widened.
That wasn’t… him… was it?
No. Absolutely not.
He refused to entertain that possibility.
In an attempt to prove to himself that he was okay, Viggo went to stand.
As he moved, he heard a crashing behind him. He whipped his head around, only to see that he… the dragon?… had knocked a vase off the dresser and to the floor. Beside it, a tail was curled, utterly useless.
“No.” Viggo tried to speak again, but yet again was met only by a growl, confirming his theory. This couldn’t be happening. At least the pain had subsided by now, but with no way to speak, he couldn’t exactly explain to Ryker what was going on.
His brother would never believe him, even if he could!
After the meeting with the whispering tress, this boat was headed to the auction. Viggo couldn’t miss either of those things. The last time that Ryker had tried to negotiate with someone, both brothers were almost killed. That was years ago now, and Ryker hadn’t even attempted diplomacy since.
There had to be a way to turn back, surely. How had he been turned in the first place?
He had been at the Northern Markets with Ryker that morning. They had been looking for the ingredients they needed to batch produce more dragon root arrows, because Hiccup and the riders had been particularly difficult lately, and they’d exhausted their reserves.
There had been nothing unusual about the trip. They had bought the dragonroot and then left. That was all that happened, wasn’t it?
Wait.
Viggo had been bitten by something. A small dragon. He had hardly paid it mind, since he had felt fine in the following hours. What type of dragon was it? Viggo hadn’t seen enough of it to discern what species it was. How was he supposed to turn back into a human if he didn’t even know what had turned him in the first place?
Norns. This was far from an ideal situation.
“Viggo!” Called a voice from above deck, far too loud. Viggo winced at the sudden onslaught to his senses, ears flapping back on instinct. It was Ryker, and he was coming down the stairs. If his brother saw him like this, he’d kill him.
He had to move.
Moving, as Viggo found out several moments later, was a lot harder than he had thought it would be.
First, he tried to walk as a dragon would. He had studied countless dragons throughout his life—of course he understood the mechanics behind their movements. Unfortunately for him, understanding and actually doing are two completely separate things.
First, he accidentally stepped too far forward with both hind legs at the same time, sending him faceplanting into the wooden floor. Then, he attempted to move one leg at a time. This was far from efficient, and far from natural.
Perhaps the most logical solution would be to… yes… he drew himself up onto his two hind legs, standing as if he were still human. He hadn’t accounted for his additional height though, and his head hit against the ceiling with a rather large thump. Ignoring this, he continued forward until he was face to face with the door.
He reached one of his paws to it, attempting to twist the knob, and failing rather spectacularly. Paws are not effective for grabbing.
Instead, he focussed on one of the additional limbs he had somehow acquired in the span of the last hour or so. His tail. He tried to raise it, attempting to drag it over to the doorknob. Due to the fact that he was wildly uncoordinated, however, Viggo’s tail ended up crashing into nearly every item of furniture in the room but the door, sending a chair thudding to the floor, his Maces and Talons pieces scattering everywhere, and several more ornaments smashing.
There was no way he’d be able to open the door with his tail.
Just as he was trying to figure something else out, the door swung open right before him. Considering how overwhelming his senses had been up to this point, he really should’ve noticed how close the man in front of him had been getting before he was stood face-to-face with him.
Ryker’s eyes widened, and he immediately reached for his sword.
‘Ryker!’ Viggo attempted to shout, ‘It’s me!’ Unfortunately, the only thing that came out was a rather strangled roar.
“Don’t roar at me, reptile!” Ryker shouted, ready to swing the weapon. In an attempt to preserve his own life, Viggo crashed forward, knocking Ryker to the floor and sending his sword several metres away, pinning his arms above his head.
‘Ryker, listen to me!’ Viggo repeated, getting desperate. He knew it wouldn’t do anything, in all honesty, but he still wanted to try.
“Get off me!” His brother yelled, firm hands pushing Viggo’s underbelly, trying to force him away. Viggo just continued to stare at him, trying to figure out a way that he might be able to articulate this in a way that even Ryker could understand.
That was it!
Viggo managed to climb off Ryker, coordinating his limbs enough to sit on top of Ryker’s sword. His brother sprung up immediately as Viggo nodded his head to his own room. The same room he had just trashed.
Ryker frowned, eyes flicking from Viggo to his room.
“Viggo?” He raised an eyebrow.
‘Yes!’ Viggo yipped, bobbing his head in relief. Was Ryker beginning to put it together? Viggo watched as the realisation dawned across his face, and he took half a step forward, ready to try and further elaborate. But then—
“You ate my brother?” He snarled.
‘No!’ Viggo hissed, head shaking aggressively. How did Ryker get it so wrong!?
“I’m gonna kill you, you beast!” Ryker roared, charging Viggo despite the fact he no longer had a sword. Viggo’s ear flaps came forward again, head turning as he sensed people behind him.
All with their bows raised and dragon root arrows loaded.
Not. Good.
He needed to get out of here.
Instinct carried him far further than conscious thought did, and his body dropped back to all fours. Then, he ran. He expected the first few strides to be awkward. They weren't. His legs moved almost without instruction, his body dropping low as he sprinted down the corridor.
Oh.
That was considerably more efficient.
Arrows were shooting at him from all angles, and Ryker was shouting angrily at the grunts, all of whom Viggo assumed would be in for something unsavoury once Ryker had calmed.
Viggo managed to dodge most of them.
That was, until one lodged itself in one of his hind legs. He let out an undignified screech, pain flaring in his leg. That had been dragonroot—no question about it. Viggo pushed down the pain. If he didn’t, he would definitely be in for a worse fate.
He scrambled past cages and cages of dragons, and Norns, Viggo could understand them.
‘Run, dragon!’ A nadder screeched.
‘Kill them!’ A monstrous nightmare argued.
‘Especially Grimdeath!’ One head of a zippleback called after him. Viggo didn’t even pause to look at them. He just continued running through the ship. His tail continued to hit against near everything he ran past, and his wings were making themselves a nuisance.
He decided to ignore the fact that the dragons had a nickname for him. At least, for now. He just needed to get down this corridor, and up the stairs, and then he’d be on the deck, and then—
And then what?
He could hardly run. There was no chance he’d be able to fly. Or swim, for that matter.
“Get back here, you beast!” Came Ryker’s voice again. Viggo risked snatching a look behind him. He had managed to lose all the henchmen, but Ryker had managed to chase him all the way through the ship, a crossbow loaded and aimed at Viggo’s side.
At last, he broke up onto the deck, the wood of the trapdoor splintering as he rammed into it. Immediately, all the guards whipped around to witness the commotion, but Viggo continued to run. He had no idea where to go or what to do. How could he possibly make Ryker listen to him? Maybe he could draw himself? Or—
Pain suddenly exploded through his side as three dragonroot arrows pierced his side in quick succession, and he hit the deck hard, any coordination he had previously managed to muster being tossed away in an instant.
Another arrow flew in his direction, but he didn’t wait to see where it landed.
He threw himself over the side of the ship.
He plummeted for a moment, the water getting closer and closer. The wings were decorative, apparently.
But then suddenly, they opened on instinct, and the wind caught him all at once. He rose higher into the sky, legs dangling redundantly beneath him.
This was a terrible idea. Exceptionally so. Wind tore past Viggo as he stole a glance below him. The sea was very far away.
But for one brief moment, Viggo forgot to be terrified. He was flying. Not riding a dragon. Not watching one. Not studying one. Flying.
Then the wind shifted, and he immediately remembered that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He tried to adjust his wings in an attempt to gain some more control over the situation, but that led immediately to him falling back towards the sea.
A screech escaped his jaws, and he spread his wings again, thankfully levelling out. That was far too close for comfort.
He also had no idea what he was going to do. He could already feel the effects of the dragonroot beginning to kick in, meaning he would have to find somewhere to land. He also needed to treat his injuries, although he was unsure how he was going to do that with these inferior limbs.
His head began to pulse again, and he was met with one of two possibilities. Either the effects of the arrows were about to reach their peak, or he was turning back into a human. No amount of hope made the second option true, however, and he began rapidly losing altitude.
He needed to find an island to land on, and fast. He scanned the horizon, careful to keep his wings as still as possible to avoid dropping any faster than he had to, for islands.
Finally, it seemed Viggo’s luck might be turning around, because he spotted an island which, with any luck, he’d be able to make it to. Not only that, but he recognised it as one he had visited several times before.
Dark Deep.
His head continued to spin as his primary objective became landing before he passed out.
As he got closer, he realised that, for a brief, heart stopping moment, he wasn’t going to make it.
But then his claws met rock, and he crashed into the side of a cliff. His scrabbled for purchase, trying to find anything that he could hold on to. After a minute more of struggling, he managed to haul himself up onto the crag he’d attempted to land on.
His legs gave way, and he collapsed to the floor almost immediately.
Despite how exhausted Viggo was feeling all of a sudden, and the drowsiness clawing at the back of his mind, he resolved to removing the arrows before he allowed himself to sleep. He reached his head around, trying to grip one of the arrows with his jaw. Unfortunately, he wasn’t flexible enough, and his body crashed to the floor yet again before he could remove it.
Suddenly, he heard something. His ears perked up, instinctively trying to figure out what he was hearing. And it sounded like… footsteps.
Oh Norns. Viggo did not have it in him to deal with any more humans today. Especially not if said humans were Ryker and the hunters. He didn’t think he had been followed, but if he had, then…
Seven figures emerged slowly, and the person leading the group was—
‘Hiccup?’ Viggo growled, trying to stand again. His legs, unfortunately, were no longer upholding their previous alliance, refusing to move entirely.
“Hey, hey.” The boy said, raising his arms non-threateningly, “It’s okay. We’re friends. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Viggo growled at him again. Because no matter what Hiccup said, he would absolutely have no problems in killing him if he knew who his new dragon ‘friend’ really was.
“Oh, you poor thing!” Fishlegs frowned, taking a step forward, “Did the dragon hunters do this to you?”
‘Don’t get any closer.’ Viggo snarled at Fishlegs, his own voice still unfamiliar. Thankfully, it seemed that Fishlegs got the memo, pausing where he stood.
“It’s okay,” Hiccup continued, slowly approaching again, “You know, we don’t like the hunters either.” If Viggo wasn’t quite as disorientated and uncomfortable as he was now, the irony might have amused him.
This time, Viggo let Hiccup approach. Perhaps the boy would be able to treat him, and then they could all go their own ways? All he had to do was remove the arrows, give Viggo the antidote, and he could leave them be. And never mention it again.
Unfortunately, Hiccup seemed to have other plans. He raised his hand, palm facing Viggo’s head. And then he was brave—or stupid—enough to turn his own face away!
There was absolutely no way Viggo was going to allow himself to be ‘tamed’ by Hiccup Haddock, so he made that much known. He snapped at Hiccup’s hand, snarling as he did so. Hiccup pulled away quickly, hands raising again. At the same time, Viggo tried to stand. He was successful this time, taking a couple of steps, and then…
Everything went black.