Chapter Text
The Edge had been under siege for two weeks. Food and supplies had already been low before the Hunter ships and Dragon Flyers surrounded them, cutting off escape by air and sea.
Every one of the riders' plans to break through the barrier had failed — the combined might of Johann and Viggo's Hunters and Krogan's Flyers had so far proven to be impenetrable. Not even a single T-mail had made it out, and after the last Terror had been shot out of the sky and permanently disabled, Hiccup had refused to try and send any more.
If they didn't find a way past the ring of ships and Singetails soon, the riders would be in serious trouble. They needed medicine, supplies, food staples that they could only get back on Berk or at the Northern Markets.
Worse, their attackers had cut off all access to the water, so fishing had become all but impossible. Their stores had dwindled to nothing, and the dragons — and riders — had been living off wild boar and chicken for the last fortnight. But there were only so many of those on the island, and eventually food would run out. Then they would all starve.
The good news? The Hunters wanted only one thing. If they got it, they would leave the Edge in peace. The bad news? They wanted Hiccup.
Snotlout waited outside of Hiccup's hut, arms crossed over his chest. The moon hung high overhead, bathing Dragon's Edge in silvery light.
Snotlout knew Hiccup would sneak out of his hut tonight. That he would make his way to the eastern beach, signal to Viggo's ship with the Dragon Blade, and then surrender himself to three of his worst and most dangerous enemies, who planned to do Thor-knows-what to him once they had him in their clutches.
The riders — Astrid at the top of the list — had collectively forbidden Hiccup to give himself up. "We're okay for now," they'd told him. "We'll think of something."
But everything they had thought of had failed. A few days ago, Hiccup had been so insistent on giving himself over that Astrid had threatened to lock him in the stables or have Meatlug sit on him if he tried anything. So Hiccup had conceded, locked himself up in his hut to construct yet another escape plan.
But today, everything had changed. Because Astrid had been shot out of the sky. One of Stormfly's wings had been broken, and Astrid had a concussion and a fractured arm. And it could have been so much worse. Next time it might be.
So Snotlout knew that no matter his promises to a half-coherent Astrid that he would stay put, not do anything rash, Hiccup would slip out of his hut with the intention of surrendering himself to the Hunters tonight. Snotlout didn't even know what he planned to do with this knowledge, had no idea what he would do once Hiccup opened that door and stepped out into the night.
The door opened. Hiccup eased out of the hut, stepping so lightly that even his metal leg made no sound on the wood. He turned, saw Snotlout standing a few yards away, and froze.
"Wh-what are you doing here?" Hiccup hissed, a slight note of panic in his voice.
"I could ask you the same question. But I don't need to. You're giving yourself up." It wasn't a question.
Hiccup glanced around cautiously, his entire body rigid, shoulders slightly hunched. Then he made his slow, quiet way over to Snotlout and rested a hand on his arm. His fingers trembled, but his voice remained a strong, resolute whisper. "I have no choice. You saw what happened to Astrid. Trying to escape has become too risky. I've got to end this."
"They'll kill you," Snotlout argued, his own voice foreign to him, unsure, unsteady.
Hiccup shrugged, eyes downcast. "Not right away. As soon as the way is clear, you guys can come after me. With any luck, I'll still be alive by the time you find me."
Fury roared through Snotlout. "Are you serious right now?" he hissed incredulously. "Like, do you even hear yourself?"
"Snotlout, I don't have a choice," Hiccup snapped back.
"Oh my gods, I can't believe this!" Snotlout fumed. His voice rose; Hiccup shushed him frantically, eyes darting around to make sure they hadn't been heard. "Why do you always have to be the big hero, Hiccup? For once, can you drop the self-sacrificing shit? For Thor's sake, dude, it's like you want to be captured!"
Now Hiccup looked up, met his cousin's gaze for the first time. Snotlout knew he would never forget what he saw there, on Hiccup's face. Terror. Stark, pungent fear that sapped the color from his face, pressed his lips in a thin line, clenched his jaw, made his eyes much too bright in the soft moonlight.
Gods. Snotlout felt like such an ass. He'd been speaking out of anger, fear, even, and he hadn't stopped to really think about what that tremor in Hiccup's hands meant. Of course Hiccup didn't want to be captured.
Not by Johann, who had pretended to be his friend for over a decade, who had very recently tried to kill Hiccup in cold blood — and damn near succeeded. Not by Krogan, who had kidnapped him and leashed him like an animal (Snotlout still saw those chain-shaped bruises in his nightmares sometimes). And certainly not by Viggo Grimborn, who had gotten under Hiccup's skin more times than he could count, who had captured and tried to kill and put a bounty on Hiccup, who… who looked at Hiccup in this weird, possessive way that Snotlout didn't completely understand but made him supremely uncomfortable.
"You don't have to do this," Snotlout implored, throat dry, voice a hoarse whisper. He realized that he'd never truly appreciated the extent of Hiccup's bravery. Because this wasn't a matter of his not being afraid. On the contrary, Hiccup was terrified, but he planned to surrender himself anyway. For them. For his friends, their dragons.
In that moment, no matter how wrong it felt, Snotlout knew he wouldn't try to stop Hiccup. How could he?
"I'm going with you," he said.
Hiccup shook his head. "No. Too risky. If they see you, they might think it's a trick. They might hurt you, like they did Astrid."
Snotlout rolled his eyes. "Look, man. I'm not gonna stop you. This is your choice. But you can't stop me from coming along. I won't let you do this alone."
They stared at each other in silence, two cousins, one tall and lean, the other short and muscular. Green eyes glaring into blue. Two sets of fists clenched. At last, Hiccup sighed and looked away. "Okay, but once we get to the beach, you have to stay back. Stay hidden. Do not let them see you."
Snotlout nodded. "Okay. Fine. Whatever. But you better not give up on us, Hiccup, because we'll be coming for you."
Hiccup's eyes glittered; fear positively radiated from him. "Okay. I promise." He hesitated, eyes cutting back to his hut. "And you'll make sure Toothless is taken care of? That he knows I did this for him?"
"Duh, we all will."
"Thanks." A beat. "Let's get going, then."
They didn't talk on the trek to the beach. They had nothing more to say. More than once, though, Snotlout found himself glancing over at Hiccup, wondering if he was making the right move here. Hiccup may have been taller than him now, but he still weighed half as much as Snotlout. Surely he could grab his cousin, sling him over his shoulder, and drag him back to his hut?
But Snotlout actually understood why Hiccup had made this choice. And what's more, to his immense surprise, he respected both the choice and the reasons for it. As a leader, Hiccup had a sworn duty to protect his people. All their other plans had fallen apart. Now one of his people, and one of his dragons, had gotten hurt. Always a strategist, Hiccup had looked at this problem from every angle and knew this to be the only way forward, the only way to keep his people safe.
So Snotlout didn't drag Hiccup to safety. He just walked by his side, heart pounding, head spinning, dread pooling in his gut, wondering if he could be brave enough to watch whatever awaited Hiccup when he gave himself up.
"Okay, this is as far as you go," Hiccup said. "Are you sure you won't go back? I don't want you to have to see this."
Hiccup's words echoed Snotlout's own fears, but he steeled his resolve. "No way. I didn't walk all this way in the middle of the night just to turn tail." More seriously: "I'm not going to leave you."
Hiccup nodded. His lower lip trembled slightly, a tear caught at the corner of his eye. "Thank you," he said hoarsely. He held out his left hand. "See you soon?"
Snotlout took it. "You bet your scrawny ass we will." A moment of hesitation, and then Snotlout did something that he'd never done before, something that stemmed solely from the gnawing dread that he might never see his cousin again. He pulled Hiccup to him and crushed him into a hug. After a stunned moment, Hiccup returned the embrace.
"Gods," Snotlout sniffled. "If you die, I swear I'm gonna kill you."
Hiccup pulled away with a slightly manic huff of laughter. "Noted. And Snotlout — no matter what happens, you stay hidden. I will not have someone else get hurt on my account." He sounded so much like his father then, so much raw power and authority thrumming through his voice that Snotlout nearly took a step back. He nodded once, curtly. He would obey. Hiccup had more than earned that from him.
Hiccup squared his shoulders, turned his back, and strode out of the tree line and onto the beach. Snotlout watched him inhale deeply. Exhale. And then Hiccup drew his sword, ignited it, and waved it in the air. From the closest ship came a chorus of cheers and cat-calls. A rowboat splashed into the sea.
Oh gods, oh gods.
Too late to back out now. They were coming for Hiccup.
Viggo personally came to collect Hiccup, flanked by a couple of enormous Dragon Hunters. Seeing Viggo, remembering how the man looked at Hiccup, nearly broke Snotlout's resolve to stay out of this. But he just gritted his teeth and watched with a leaden heart as Hiccup willingly surrendered to his greatest enemy.
"Ah, my dear Hiccup. I am delighted that you have finally seen reason."
Hiccup had his back to Snotlout, but Snotlout didn't have to see his cousin's face to know what Hiccup felt in that moment. Shoulders taut, fists clenched, back ramrod straight. Petrified, but refusing to show it. He knew exactly the expression on Hiccup's face: Green eyes flashing, teeth bared in a defiant snarl, brow furrowed.
"If I surrender, you promise you'll stop the siege? You won't attack the Edge or my friends? You will leave and not come back?"
Viggo flashed a predator's smile. "On my honor as a businessman. If I — if we, I mean to say — have you, then we need nothing else from this island or your friends. We will go in peace."
After a long moment, Hiccup's shoulders deflated. He doused his sword and threw it to the sand at Viggo's feet. "Okay. I surrender."
Viggo's eyes gleamed and he took a step forward. He raised a hand, and for a moment, Snotlout thought he was about to slap Hiccup. Instead, he ran the back of his hand down the side of Hiccup's face, an intimate, possessive gesture that curdled Snotlout's insides. Hiccup's entire body went rigid at the touch. Gods, how could Snotlout let Hiccup go through with this?
"Excellent," Viggo said, his eyes not leaving Hiccup's face. He removed his hand and Hiccup practically wilted in relief. "I accept your surrender. You understand if I still have you bound. You may be docile now in an effort to protect your friends, but I do not trust you to stay that way once we set sail."
"Just do it," Hiccup growled. "Stop dragging this on. I want your filthy boots off my island."
Viggo's blind eye glowed white in the moonlight. His smile glinted whiter, sharper. "As you wish, my dear." To his men: "Take his armor. He has no need for it anymore. Then chain him tightly. And take his leg."
At these orders, Hiccup recoiled and Snotlout nearly burst out of the trees and threw himself at Viggo. But he stayed his hand; outnumbered as he was, with Hiccup in the line of fire, he would get himself and possibly Hiccup killed. But he vowed that when they rescued Hiccup, he would personally be the one to cut down Viggo Grimborn.
"No," Hiccup snapped, backing slowly away as the Hunters advanced. "N-no. That wasn't part of the deal. Stay away from me!"
"I thought this was a surrender?" Viggo mocked. "That you were valiantly sacrificing your freedom for that of your friends? But if you truly care more about your armor and your metal leg than your friends, well…" He trailed off, victory dancing in his eyes. The smug bastard already knew he'd won.
"Okay," Hiccup ground out. "Okay, fine." He held out his hands placatingly. "I surrender." He reached for one of the buckles on his leather armor and, piece by piece, removed it. First the pauldrons, then the hauberk. Viggo even forced him to take off his bracers. With every piece of armor stolen from Hiccup, something in Snotlout withered and died. Rage boiled inside him. Viggo had no reason to take Hiccup's armor other than humiliation.
When Hiccup stood shivering in his thin tunic, Viggo looked him up and down with an appraising expression that made Snotlout's skin crawl. He held out a hand. "Your prosthetic."
"My leg," Hiccup snarled back, "and it isn't yours to take."
Snotlout watched on in horror as one of the Dragon Hunters kicked Hiccup in the back of his legs. Hiccup crashed to his knees. The Hunter who had kicked him drew a pair of heavy manacles from his vest and dragged Hiccup's arms behind him. Snotlout flinched with each click of the locks.
Viggo circled around Hiccup like a cat stalking its prey. "I admit that there is a part of me that enjoys your defiance," he all but purred. "It suits you. But, unfortunately, I no longer work alone, and my new associates will not take kindly to your sharp tongue and refusal to cooperate." He stopped behind Hiccup, who stared straight ahead, unmoving, resolute. Viggo grabbed a fistful of Hiccup's hair and yanked his head back. Hiccup grunted in pain but otherwise didn't react. "So I would learn to curb that smart mouth if I were you."
In response, Hiccup spewed a string of filthy curses that made even Snotlout blush. He'd also never been prouder — who knew Hiccup had that in him?
Viggo shoved Hiccup's head down, hard, then released his hair and stood back. "Take his leg, bind his legs together. And gag him. That is not language appropriate for an heir, my boy. Perhaps I can teach you some manners when we get to base." Behind his back, Hiccup's fists clenched so tightly Snotlout wouldn't be surprised if his fingernails drew blood.
Snotlout watched, helpless to intervene, as one of the Hunters yanked Hiccup's prosthetic off, then produced a strip of cloth from his belt and gagged Hiccup with it, tying it tightly behind his head. Hiccup let out a stream of muffled grunts, and Snotlout could only imagine the obscenities captured by the gag. The other Hunter then shoved Hiccup back into a sitting position, and bound his legs together above and below the knee.
"Ah, I have been dreaming of this day for a long time," Viggo said, kneeling in front of Hiccup and taking his jaw in one hand. Hiccup tried to jerk away, but Viggo held firm and yanked Hiccup's face forward so they were nose to nose. Snotlout could tell even from yards away how much this scared Hiccup; he appeared to be panting through his nose, his shoulders rising and falling far too quickly. "I have been waiting for the day that you are mine."
One of the Hunters raised his hand. "Uh, what about Trader Johann and Krogan, sir?"
Viggo shoved Hiccup's face away and stood abruptly, dusting sand off his legs. "Their interest in Hiccup is what information they can squeeze out of him. I have a more personal interest. They will use him as they see fit. But he will belong to me." Nausea rolled Snotlout's gut. Gods, he shouldn't have let Hiccup go through with this. If he'd have known Viggo was this unhinged…
Hiccup tried to shout something from behind the gag. Viggo put a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry, my dear, but you are going to have to speak up if you have any objections. Enunciate." He waited, mocking. "No? Well, then, we really must be going. And do not worry — by dawn, all of the ships and dragons laying siege to your island will be gone. Your friends will be safe. Our forces will only stay long enough to ensure we get safely away with our prize."
Snotlout bristled. Hiccup wasn't a prize, something to win or lose or parade about as a badge of victory. He was a person, the son of a chief, the heir to a throne, a dragon rider and tamer and the kindest, most forgiving person Snotlout had ever met. How dare Viggo speak about Hiccup as if he were an object, a reward, a treasure to be obtained and hoarded?
This was Hiccup's choice, Snotlout reminded himself grimly, barely able to stop himself from dashing out of his hiding place and trying to fight three against one. Normally he liked those odds, but having an incapacitated Hiccup in the mix made things a hell of lot trickier.
A Hunter threw Hiccup into the rowboat like a sack of wheat; Snotlout winced at the sound of his body smacking into the hard wood and the muffled grunt of pain. As the three men rowed away with their prisoner, Snotlout recounted the entire night in his head and hated himself for everything he could have — should have — done differently.
His last sight of his cousin was a face ghostly pale in the light of the moon, chained and bound with a gag shoved between his teeth and Viggo sitting uncomfortably close to him in the small rowboat.
"I'm coming for you, Hiccup," he vowed. "Just hold on a little longer."
He watched, frozen, as they hauled Hiccup onto the deck of the ship. He watched them carry him below deck, watched the Hunters prepare to set sail. He watched until long after the ship had disappeared over the horizon, feeling as if his heart had been ripped from his chest and thrown into a volcano.
When he finally rose, knees stiff, skin prickled with goose flesh, the first vestiges of sunrise shivered at the horizon and all of the ships and flyers had retreated, leaving the Edge free and clear for the first time in two weeks. And Snotlout had never been more miserable.
He raced to the base, heart flailing madly against his ribs, adrenaline coursing through him, calling, shouting for the others to come, come quick — Hiccup had given himself up, they had to go after him, now.
And Snotlout swore on Thor's hammer itself that he would not rest, would not stop, until he'd brought his cousin back. Back to the Edge, back to Berk, back to the people who loved him. Back to where he belonged.