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Hiccup gasped and slammed himself against a cage, fitting between it and the boxes in front of him. He had wandered off from the others just a while ago, having seen a bunch of horses screeching in the distance while the riders dealt with Ryker and some other men, untrapping their dragons, too.
A man was thrown to the ground in front of Hiccup, in the middle of that "circle" of trees and cages and boxes. The guy wasn't like most hunters, but one resembling Viggo in his build, with wide terrified eyes, lacking the armor, being just in loose, rather thin pieces of clothing — which, of course, meant he was exposed to the biting cold — and lacking the helmet, with his brown hair tousled.
He looked miserable. Horrified. Afraid.
Hiccup felt just as scared, but not for the same reason. Hiccup was confused and wary, unsure of what the younger Grimborn planned when he entered the scene with a oddly dull-looking axe (the edges were still sharp, but not enough).
The dragon rider felt his body slowly freezing, fear like no other squeezing his muscles, almost like he'd been a victim — again — to a Flightmare's mist.
Dull axes took a while to cut something off, and by Viggo's face — one of such uncontrolled wrath the rider had never seen from him; it made him terrifying, more than usual, and it had Hiccup's senses shaking him for him to leave before he fell victim to Viggo's rage.
But the Gods had cursed him with a everlasting curiosity, and he stuck around, hidden behind boxes, with Toothless not far from him. The night fury was in the dark somewhere, probably watching, if the occasional shifting of bushes told him anything.
No doubt his dragon was ready to bolt if he was in danger, but now could care less about the man about to die.
And then Viggo began talking, and Hiccup also stopped caring.
"I had assumed my father taught his village right before I took over, and that I'd been making sure our horses were safe and sound. It appears I was wrong."
Viggo took a step closer, and the man backed up and slammed his back against a cage. The hidden trapped devilish dervish gave a hissing roar. The guy yelped, having no escape as three other dragons began growling at him and Viggo just took two more steps, the axe in his hand not even glinting against the moonlight.
"Sir, please- I didn't mean it— that horse- it—"
"He. A worthless coward such as yourself should be the one referred to as an it. After what you've done to Draumur, one of the kindest horses I have ever had the pleasure to ride, you no longer have a name."
"But—"
"You fucking cut his LEGS off."
Hiccup's eyes widened wildly, and he finally saw Toothless' enraged eyes from the other side, glaring blazing holes at the man.
Sure, Hiccup was not a horse person and probably would never love them the way he loved dragons, but he was still an empath who cared for all life, even of animals he disliked. And he found horses to be such graceful and beautiful beings — he'd learned to like kelpies, too — and it was a fact a horse's legs were like a dragon's wings and tail.
They could not live without them, and to cut those parts and leave the animal to die was cruel. Just… so fucking cruel.
"But worry not, I will avenge Draumur." Viggo didn't smile, he bared his teeth. The axe raised, and the four dragons (the devilish dervish from earlier, two monstrous nightmares and a shovelhelm) began snarling, either upset or afraid.
However, Viggo did not went for the man first, he just held the raised axe and instead pushed a cage open.
Those dragons weren't even locked. They were meant to be released.
Hiccup almost cheered, had the monstrous nightmare not startled him by flying off right in his direction at first and to the skies later. Both him and Viggo knew it wasn't just flying away. It was just keeping the others busy, followed by the shovelhelm and the other nightmare next as Viggo wordlessly freed them.
The only one who refused to leave was the dervish, who only snarled at the defenseless man about to be killed in the open. Hiccup wasn't sure what was more shocking — him about to watch a death or the captive dragon not leaving.
"My father may be a disgraceful man who cannot respect his "daughter" is nonexistent, but I can admire him when the time comes. His adoration for horses is beautiful, truthfully." Viggo continued.
"S-sir, please, let's just talk—"
The axe suddenly swung and the man let out a bloodcurdling scream as it landed right in his shoulder. Viggo's face went from a collected furrow to pure ire in a blink. Hiccup gasped, slapping his hands over his mouth as to not catch anyone's attention.
The hunter chief jerked the criminal closer, silencing his pathetic cries with his demeaning tone, "Quiet. I am speaking, not you. And remember that the horse you've mutilated couldn't speak to tell you it was just tired or confused, so you are not allowed to plead your case with me either."
Viggo yanked the axe out, humming pleased at the wound he caused. The man was trembling, hissing when he put a hand to the wound, gasping shakily at his own blood.
Hiccup almost felt bad. He was quite shocked he didn't. But… he also wouldn't have felt guilty if Viggo or Ryker died a few weeks ago. Was this man that different?
"I-it isn't my fault D-Draumur was weak."
No. He wasn't. He perhaps was worse.
Viggo and Ryker at least recognized the dragons weren't weak.
"Pardon?"
The man refused to answer, and the devilish dervish looked around, sniffing as a small dragon — one even smaller than a terrible terror, grey with black, white and light brown markings, pink legs and beak and the sharpest claws and very obviously poisonous claws at its wings' edges — landed in his cage, chirping.
"Ah, little pest, you chose to join me. I suppose stingwings really grown to at least want to cause havoc with their masters, hm?"
The little dragon (a stingwing, huh? Hiccup had to know more when it all was over. But now, uhm, back to watching Viggo kill a man?) loudly warbled and smiled, wagging her long, whip-type of tail.
"Very well, you may poison him later, in the wounds I make on him, if you will."
The stingwing happily sang, and curled herself up as she laid down, watching with bloody red eyes that honestly creeped Hiccup out.
The man tried to move as Viggo swung the axe again. Though… something was holding him. The large captive dragon that refused to leave. It licked its lips and kept a claw piercing the man's leg and keeping him in place for Viggo to just land his hit.
Two, three hits, the leg was taking a tormentingly long time to cut deep, ripping echoing screams from the man while the axe tore his flesh away slowly. Hiccup eventually got sick and just faced away, listening to the sound of it ripping apart without being able to leave.
Hiccup was afraid because he wasn't sure whether or not Toothless saw him and would follow. And what's to say the guy wouldn't just try to kill them both with his new dragons (and probably a kelpie)? Hiccup may be willing to try to redeem the man, but not to blindly trust he could leave now.
Viggo grunted, "Come, dragon, help me."
There was a sound of crunching and more screaming, useless pleading and the axe grinding against the bone. The dragon was then gurgling while the man cried.
"You're free to eat it."
Hiccup peeked over his shoulder, catching the sight of Viggo landing his boot in the guy's arm and positioning the bloody axe while the stingwing stole a few bites from the dervish, both dragons eating the damn leg.
The rider gagged as quietly as he could. Gods, that was just… horrifyingly noble?
The same process repeated itself in Hiccup's ears, but now he didn't exactly face away, and instead stared down at Toothless from the other side. The night fury wasn't seeing him, or at least was acting like he wasn't. Fucking Hel.
Time was going tormentingly slow, with axe swings whooshing in the air before crunching against flesh. Limb by limb, the process ended with that devilish dervish and the stingwing eating up the freshly disembodied limbs. Until… it was over.
Viggo was audibly panting, giving a breathy chuckle, and dropping the axe in the ground. Hiccup slowly turned to his direction and watched the man crying on the ground, not with much energy left, and with the tiny dragon diving down to whip the hunter with her tail, then to aggressively nudge the stings of her wings against the man's bleeding wounds.
"You're lucky to be Ryker's favorite dragon." Said Viggo to the devilish dervish. He then kicked the limbless man, not really moving him. "But little pest over there remains my stingwing to care, so, let it do its job."
The dervish rumbled in annoyance, but politely stepped back, letting the stingwing pounce on the guy, who quietly pleaded for mercy. She began digging her beak in his stomach, claws gripping his sides while her head thrashed wildly to rip the flesh.
Viggo watched, a wicked smile in his face, not caring for the blood spurting out into his body, covering his boots and parts of his pants. One string of blood even managed to fly all the way to his face when the stingwing jerked her head up. The nearly-dead man just cried more and whined.
Hiccup was starting to find his voice annoying.
The hunter chief thought so too, tugging at the stingwing's tail to aggravate her. She yowled and leaped for his chest, digging with her claws and beak for his heart.
"Finish up and share. I have other matters to tend to, then, the riders."
Viggo was bringing two fingers to his mouth, seemingly to whistle, when… he paused.
And turned.
In Hiccup's direction.
"My dear Hiccup."
The motherfucker was smiling down at him, not that same wicked grin, but a softer version of it, the same cynical one he gave Hiccup during a fight. At least before he became distracted with his kelpie.
"I-"
Hiccup glanced at the little show beside Viggo, and the dragons were already eating the guy up, snapping his body in pieces. The dervish even tossed one at Viggo, who glared at it, scowled and kicked it all the way to where Toothless was hiding.
"Please, you didn't really think this was a good hiding spot, or that your night fury's vibrant eyes peeking from the bushes couldn't be seen?"
"Fuck."
"Oh, don't despair, my boy," Viggo wasn't that quick to reassure him, and honestly, a bloody Viggo Grimborn was not reassuring at all. "Care to join me?"
Hiccup eyed Viggo's extended hand, flicking his eyes to Toothless, who was exchanging chirps and warbles with the devilish dervish and the stingwing.
"For what?"
"I'd like someone other than my own horse to properly take Draumur to Valhalla. And Ryker isn't available now, is he?"
The sounds of screeching dragons, fire and shouting men said otherwise. Hiccup sighed, shaky, nervous, resigned.
Toothless and him shared a look. Toothless nodded. So it was safe. And Hiccup nodded back. Okay.
Hiccup took Viggo's hand, trying his hardest not to linger in how rough and oddly pleasant they were against his own, and accepted to be pulled to his feet. The hunter gave him a content smile, too tugged, forced, something to hide the clear grief his entire soul felt at the death of a horse. It felt quite ironic how that damn hunter worked.
The two began walking, Toothless trailing behind them and the stingwing hissing somewhere around them. She seemed to unnerve Viggo, but Hiccup didn't even dare comment on it — it wasn't really the right time to pester Viggo about not showing fear to large dragons but instead showing clear fear and tension to a flailing housecat-sized dragon.
It was such a terrible sight when they reached the spot the horse — Draumur — was left to rot, visibly cleaned before they arrived, perhaps even before Viggo left to kill that man. Blood stains were spilled all around in a dry puddle, Draumur's four legs were indeed cut off, but someone (Viggo?) apparently put splinters and bandaged them back together in a futile attempt to make the horse full again. It worked if someone looked at a distance, it'd just appear like the big guy was sleeping.
But up close? No. Those eyes were lifeless, not a sparkle in them. Nothing but a flicker of pain, and perhaps a bit of relief, remnants of his moments alive during that torture — the agony of being mutilated and the peace of it dwindling as the Gods welcomed him in Valhalla.
Viggo hummed a melancholic, low tune as he bent down, one knee on the ground, beside the horse, putting a hand in his cheek, caressing the animal almost like he expected him to be alive and to nudge his hand back, to lean closer to the hand even as it moved away.
"Draumur did not die in a proper battle, still, I believe in what my people say, and I could surely say my boy went to Valhalla. Perhaps to gallop in the clouds with Sleipnir and other horses he found in there."
"I don't believe animals could go anywhere else other than Valhalla, to be fair." Hiccup murmured. He had always imagined that animals didn't have to die in a fight to deserve eternal rest.
Viggo seemed thoughtful, casting a glance towards Hiccup. It was oddly soft, it didn't match the same man. "For me it makes you smarter to say as such, my dear. Animals really do not belong in Helheim."
Hiccup nearly scoffed, just giving up at the end because really, Viggo was the last man to say the "mindless beasts" were going to Helheim just because. Viggo was a smart fucker, so Hiccup learned.
The rider instead moved a bit closer and watched Viggo softly brush the horse's mane from his face, surprising Hiccup when he bent down and laid his forehead in the horse's face, the smallest of tears slipping from his eyes and tainting the animal's white, brown-spotted fur.
It shook Hiccup to his core, and he barely had time to dwell on it before Grimborn went back to work.
Also because of the large bay mare leaving the darkness, tacked up, with something akin to dull sadness in her face. She was also mourning, it confirmed by how she lowered her face towards Draumur's thigh and gently licked the bandaged leg, nuzzling his belly and nickering at Viggo.
"Yes, I'm sorry, Thyrvi, I should've been smarter." Said Viggo as he used a dagger to cut the corpse's tail — which had been previously tied.
Hiccup hesitantly moved a hand to the mare's neck. He expected her to flinch, but she didn't, and only stared at him with such misery he felt like crying more than before. He attempted to comfort her, rubbing her neck gingerly, with the intent of being soothing.
"What are you doing?" He asked then, still petting Thyrvi, who'd shuffled closer. Toothless was nearby, and crooned softly at her.
Viggo's quiet, but shaky breath had Hiccup's body tensing. He'd never expected to see Viggo Grimborn like that.
"I am cutting his tail as to have something of him. And his tack…" He paused, looking at the discarded dirty tack laying a bit away, "It will be left in his stall, which won't be used until I'm ready to let him go."
Hiccup stood still for a moment. "And what will you do with the rest of him?"
"I plan to bury him in his favorite field. It'd be a delight if he grew to be a beautiful tree like my first ever horse has back in my homeland." Viggo smiled, sad, but hopeful.
The two stayed quiet for a long period, with Hiccup eventually helping Viggo brush the dirt and wash the remaining blood away. Wash and brush away all of those hurtful touches, all of that violence, stress and anguish.
Viggo, at the end of it, both hearing slightly closer sounds, turned to Hiccup. "My dear, go. Aid your friends and fly away. I will have Ryker help me later."
Hiccup was a bit conflicted, but he knew he'd spent too much time away and had to go.
But he couldn't leave wordlessly.
"I'm sure Draumur doesn't blame you, and that… he's happy to have grown wings."
Viggo stared at him, his eyes glinting slightly, something unreadable in them.
"He's free from all that pain now." Hiccup gave a tiny smile.
And Viggo returned it, his eyes suddenly seeming far more watery than before. Hiccup also felt a stinging in his own eyes before he turned away, motioning Toothless closer.
Behind him, he heard Viggo's voice becoming one of the softest, gentlest sounds he'd ever heard, and all Viggo said were three words:
"Thank you, Hiccup."