Y'all know I'm on hiatus, in an attempt to break the painful block I'm suffering from here's something I've never done before!
So... Astrid and Viggo. AU - the prompt gave me the options of Astrid betraying the riders or being raised around trappers and I couldn't see Astrid betraying the riders. So. This involves Astrid not being an adult Berkian.
If you've come this far and still need warnings I worry but this is not Hiccstrid friendly.
I don't know how old Viggo is canonically... so if he's not old enough to be working the trapping when Astrid was a kid, ah well.
-HTTYD-
The line of work Viggo had dedicated his life and not-inconsiderable intellect to allowed for no distractions. Anything that interfered with reasoning and logical thinking could damage their profits.
Viggo allowed himself only one.
The one currently making short work of even the best fighters amongst his trappers. He could hear her grunt with the exertion of throwing men twice her size around like ragdolls, the sharp singing of metal through the air as she swung her axe.
"Astrid my dear, do try not to incapacitate them all. We need some to work after all."
She looked up with a playful smirk on those gorgeous lips of hers, brushing the long blonde braid off her neck and throwing it over her shoulder.
"This dragon shit is lucky I left him any limbs."
The 'dragon shit' in question had all his parts, but more bruises than skin and blood oozed from several gashes on his body.
"Oh?"
"Grabbed my ass."
"Ah. In which case, as you were."
"I-I didn't!"
The beaten man was remarkably still conscious, though when Astrid landed a solid kick to his side the soldier coughed up blood.
"Don't. Lie. It makes me want to hurt you more."
Viggo leant against an empty cage, watching dispassionately as the dragon trapper on the ground pleaded for mercy.
Not laying a hand on Astrid without her consent had been a rule in place since Viggo first acquired her a little over a decade ago. Back when their operation had sold their wares at bigger auctions where other... tradesmen congregated. One of commodities available were humans. For whatever one wished. Children were the most popular, whether to be broken in as slaves or for other uses.
Viggo hadn't expected to ever feel the urge to buy a person. He could break any will without resorting to money, and he lacked any desire to fuck a child. They couldn't even fight back. There was no allure. He needed a match.
Still, he wandered through the room full of caged people, raging in age from infancy to late teens. He had only come to look because the room full of dragon wares was full of potential customers, and his brother Ryker was more than sufficiently capable of menacing away any who thought to steal.
Most of the humans were cowering. Injured. Silent except for fearful whimpers. Until he came to one cage containing two young children, maybe seven or eight maximum. Both girls, he suspected though their ragged clothing and matted hair made it difficult to be sure. One had black hair and sported several bruises along her face and exposed skin. The other had blonde, scruffy braids either side of her head and, despite her own injuries, she was tending as best a young child could to her other prisoner.
"What are you looking at?"
Viggo confessed himself surprised. Mouthy products didn't sell as well. That was why any being sold were beaten until submissive. This one wasn't. Despite the filth on her skin, her eyes were bright and clear, huge and blue and full of fire. Her voice was nearly androgynous, but carried a soft tendency toward a higher pitch.
"I'm not sure."
The girl blinked, possibly surprised by his answer. She even moved in front of her cage-mate defensively. Viggo hummed to himself and continued on his way. None of the other products so much as met his eye, which perhaps answered why he found the one who squared up to him through metal bars so fascinating.
He had forgotten mostly about it after a dark ale and a less than perfectly cooked yak steak. The dragon auctions went first - Viggo had paid handsomely for that privilege, ensuring that the buyers had the most gold to spare for his sales before the others came out. Their operation came out exceptionally favourably, all but a few inferior dragons sold and those could be used for target practice.
Viggo Grimborn was never wasteful.
Dispatching Ryker to watch their lackeys transfer gold and silver by the sack and crate to their flagships, Viggo kept a couple for himself. He might see something interesting and it wouldn't do to be caught short - there were weapon stalls and the like scattered around. One never knew when he would find a rare jewel, a unique item.
The next commodity on offer was humans. The teens went first to get everyone riled up, slowly working their way down to the more expensive children. Viggo watched each buyer, cataloguing mentally who bought slaves and who was simply and obviously a slave to their perversions. He may have his men kill a few... not for sentiment, solely for the disgust of the matter.
Dragons may only be useful for financial gain, but they were intelligent and strong. Children offered no challenge. It was simply an excercise in their own need to show power over an object that couldn't fight back. Viggo could not abide such weakness.
When the blonde girl came on to the stage, he noted how she was fighting her captor and it took two grown men with swords in her face to keep her in the spot at centre stage. Several potential buyers lost interest, not wanting something that they had to make the effort to break. Others would relish the sadistic challenge. Her blue eyes landed on Viggo, and he did something that had little conscious consultation with his brain.
He raised his hand to bid.
One of the others dropped out at the sight of Viggo joining the war, but the three others seemed to take the challenge. None had just had a successful auction of their own though, and while he paid a rather obscene amount for a girl he had no real use for, Viggo felt satisfied to have won all the same.
The wriggling, struggling girl was transferred to him with bound wrists. She was struggling against the bonds and swearing more colourfully than most of his soldiers. Viggo knelt down, meeting her eyes.
"I will remove those ropes if you promise not to run. Otherwise these terrible brutes will be forced to refund my gold and take out their frustrations at a lost profit on you. Do we have an arrangement?"
The girl fixed him with beady eyes, more intelligent than he had expected to see in one so young. Eventually, she nodded and Viggo used his knife to sever the ropes. There were already the beginnings of burns from her struggling, telling of a strength and fire he was again surprised to see. She didn't bolt, so Viggo straightened up and handed over the agreed upon amount.
"I'll beat 'er for yer if ye want. No charge."
"No. Thank you. Did you also sell her cage mate?"
"Nay. Still unconscious."
"Take me to them."
The blonde girl stayed by Viggo but her eyes were full of suspicion as they headed to the back room that contained a dead Gronckle and three unconscious children. Viggo turned to the young girl, gesturing to the dark haired one on the ground.
"Who is this?"
"Heather. She's my friend."
Viggo fixed the slave trader with a stare and leant down to pick up the limp body, ensuring the girl was alive and not fatally wounded first.
"I'll take her too. For less, given the state you kept her in."
"A man who likes variety. Both are... unbroken, if ye like that."
Viggo knew what that meant - both were virgins. He slung Heather across his shoulder and handed the trader a much smaller bag of gold than he had paid for the blonde.
"Enjoy your purchases."
"I shall. Raise your standards."
Viggo left and his conscious purchase followed quickly, making him cringe slightly.
"You. What is your name?"
"Astrid. Why did you buy us?"
"My reasons are my own. I have no interest in testing the limits of your frail body. However I do require a degree of presentability. Choose your colour. Hers too."
Astrid barely took her eyes from Viggo to look at the fabric merchants wares, eventually selecting a red and a grey. Even as he purchased those, plus some boots for their bare feet, Viggo didn't know what he intended to do with them. They weren't going to be much use to trap dragons. He didn't want to touch them.
He didn't like uncertain motives. His own most of all.
Ryker was visibly confused when he came back to check on Viggo, finding him with two young girls.
"Now I know you didn't buy these for the crew."
"Correct."
"Dragon food?"
"Curiosity. Would you carry this one brother mine? The blonde is spirited, if I turn my back I suspect she will escape."
Ryker slung Heather across his shoulder, picked up the hefty sack of Viggo's mixed purchases and Viggo prepared to follow him. He noticed young Astrid eyeing something, following her gaze to a weapons stall that sold some admittedly well-crafted axes.
"You like weapons Astrid?"
"I've been able to swing an axe since I could walk."
"That's quite a claim. Come. We shall return to my ship."
Astrid seemed to consider disobeying, but her blue eyes followed the path Ryker had taken Heather down.
"Will there be dragons on it?"
"Perhaps a few. Are you afraid of dragons?"
"Nuh uh! I'm fearless!"
"We'll see about that. Come along."
He would have let her walk but frankly, Viggo trusted neither her nor the other patrons not to make some attempt at relieving him of his new cargo. So he hefted Astrid up under his arm and carried her like a tucked sword, which she audibly protested at. Loud enough that many looked around, wondering he were stealing her or she was aware of her fate.
Back on the ship, Viggo beckoned Ryker and the now semi-conscious Heather to stand before the crowd of men awaiting instruction.
"These two young girls are mine and for my own purposes. Many of you know what fate befalls those who disobey me, and your current assignment will remind any who have let such details slip their mind. These names" he held out the list to the nearest soldier "kill them. Gold to whoever brings me their head. Their... prisoners are to be released. Unharmed. Let nature make what it will of them."
With that, Viggo took Heather and Astrid to his quarters. He sat them both on chairs and gave Astrid the means necessary to treat her friends injuries again. And then he leant against the wall, chin resting on interlocked fingers as he tried to fathom why he had purchased them.
"What are you gonna do with us?"
"Not what you think, I can promise you that."
They set sail before night fell, and Viggo had six heads of child rapists to toss periodically overboard for entertainment. Neither Astrid or Heather had any table manners, but then he suspected since they had been starved, it was survival instinct to eat before the food was gone.
"Do you get seasick girls?"
Wrists crossed behind his back, Viggo supposed he looked unthreatening. In truth, it was a favourite ploy of his that left his hand close to the hilt of his sword.
"No."
"Good. Come and take in the view."
Heather peered over the side, barely tall enough to do so. Astrid didn't - she looked up at Viggo.
"I get it. We can't escape."
"True. But that wasn't why I asked you to see the view. Why would you wish to escape anyway? You've nowhere to go but back to slave auctions surely? I assure you, I'm probably the best option you had back there."
Astrid scowled - many of Viggo's men wouldn't so much as look cross-eyed at him. Her spark was refreshing.
Ryker approached them, weapon resting against his shoulder and a strange curiosity on his face. Viggo took a few steps back, leaving the girls whispering secretively to each other.
"Speak your mind brother."
He may be the younger, but Viggo was the boss all the same. Ryker knew to wait to speak his turn.
"Kids on board. It's bad for business."
"We shall see. I think they'll be a very intriguing experiment."
"Experiment?"
"Indeed. How females fair in our line of work. Particularly the blonde. She has a fire I feel compelled to nurture."
"And the other?"
"A second test. She seems meek now, but perhaps there is something young Astrid sees in her friend that we do not."
"You're the boss. Just remember if it goes wrong, it'll be your fault."
Rolling his eyes, Viggo dismissed Ryker and insisted the girls return to his quarters. When he locked the door and pocketed the key, Heather backed up into a corner and Astrid stood protectively in front of her friend.
"You would rather anybody be able to enter while I slumber?"
"Guess not."
"There are spare bedrolls and furs in that crate. I would not advise attempting freedom, else you'll be trapped between the ocean and my night patrolmen alone. Goodnight."
Viggo kicked off his boots and moved his sword from his belt to the side of his pillow, stretching out along his bed with a deep sigh. He heard the girls fumble to make up a bed for themselves, though he doubted they would sleep very well. Sleep was a precious resource that Viggo did not waste. Once they stilled, he extinguished the candle.
When he woke, Heather was still bundled beneath the pile of furs. Astrid was at his desk, looking at his maps and piles of letters. The Dragon Trapper-Mapper and its lenses laid to one side - he had not yet learned to work that it seemed.
"Anything exciting in there?"
She jumped when she realised she had been caught, peering at him furtively before shaking her head.
"I was trying to find out about you."
"You should have asked. I am Viggo Grimborn. Ryker is my older brother. We are very good at what we do, which is hunt and sell dragons. Welcome aboard The Reaper my dear."
A guttural, wet cry jerked Viggo out of his nostalgia, eyes focusing to see Astrid had now relieved the soldier of several teeth and a considerable amount of blood. She grew bored when he could no longer move except to tremor with pain, wiping his blood from her face and hands on her messy red tunic. She had never outgrown her choice of colour.
Now Astrid just said it helped to hide the blood stains. Followed by her mischievous laughter.
"Where's Heather?"
"I believe she is out flying."
"Sounds about right for her."
Both Astrid and Heather had discovered a novel use for dragons in their teens - riding them. It was considered a huge conflict of interest at first, until Viggo's men realised it allowed them to capture the trust of dragons, which attracted more to them. Heather had found a young Razorwhip and successfully nursed it to health - now it was an especially effective weapon against any obstacle, it's spiky tail able to cut through anything.
Astrid, never one to do things by half, had won the allegiance of a Night Fury she named Midnight. Viggo never named dragons... too personal. But Astrid continued to help capture dragons, so he allowed her her quirks.
When they began to get challenged by other riders, ones who opposed their work of trapping and selling and fighting... their own dragon flying girls were the ultimate weapon.
"And your own plans?"
"Cleaning that scums blood off me. Then I might stop by your hut."
Viggo didn't answer. It wouldn't do to seem overly eager. He satisfied himself by watching her walk away, the crimson skirt around her hips framing the slender, strong thighs perfectly. She turned back to catch him looking, throwing him a wink.
Astrid knew when he was looking. She always knew.
Content the spitfire blonde could take care of herself when cleaning up, he returned to his hut. There was little point playing coy with Astrid - around eighteenth birthday (as best they could guess) she had come on to Viggo rather forcefully and that was two years ago. Now...
Now she was his only distraction.
Ryker accused him of split loyalties - Astrid rode a dragon. She could join the Edge riders.
Viggo inevitably had to reduce it to Ryker's own leanings, which was efficient in driving his brother off. Viggo cared little for his brothers predilections, but it was the quickest manner to get rid of him whenever Astrid came up.
Astrid was his. She wouldn't join the enemy.
Heather had taken up with their latest ally herself - Dagur the Deranged. Viggo didn't care much for his company, he was brash and loud. He got enough of that from Ryker. Still, he knew Hiccup and the other riders well enough to be useful, and he even knew a thing or two about dragons. So long as the Riders had the Dragon Eye retrieved from the Reaper ship... Dagur was more use alive than dead.
Viggo was about to relax as he waited for Astrid when a horn by the docks sounded. Sighing, Viggo stood up and headed outside to meet the one who had first paid for the start up of their little business.
"Ah, Johann. Good evening!"
"Indeed Viggo. You have something for me I trust?"
"Always to the point. I respect that. Your gold is waiting."
Johann was tiresome at times, but shrewd and intelligent and he had a direct line to Stoick - Hiccup's father. Hiccup Haddock the Third was their biggest threat... for the moment. Some of their men had complained of another rider, one who flew a dragon not seen in these parts. A Stormcutter. Rare and powerful, Viggo had a high price on the head of the Rider and her dragon. Preferably alive.
Viggo spotted Astrid's boots at the open door of his hut, diverting Johann to go and peruse the new weapons they had had made. Sure enough, when he entered his hut alone Viggo found Astrid lazing at his desk in nout but her undershirt and leggings.
"Where have you been? I was expecting you waiting for me and I find an empty bed."
"I must deal with Johann first."
"You prefer him to me now?"
Astrid was intentionally aiming to make Viggo drop what he was doing to tend to her whims. He couldn't allow her to damage his strict self-discipline.
"The alternative is to ire his boss with late payment. Not many want to be on the receiving end of Drago Bludvist."
She rolled her eyes, stretching with a cat-like purr as she rose from the seat.
"Ugh. Can't he sell his own dragons? Odin knows he has enough."
"Gold is a small price to pay to keep him out of my way. His manner of doing things is messy, brutish. It lacks finesse."
Hmm-ing to herself, Astrid laid herself across Viggo's bed and took up all the space she pleased.
"I won't wait forever."
Didn't he know it. If Viggo was not around to satisfy Astrid in a timely manner, she would inevitably find someone else. Usually Dagur. The girls didn't mind sharing it seemed.
"I wouldn't dream of making you."
Viggo picked up the agreed amounts to give Johann, readily available and packaged in sacks to go. He allowed himself one last look at the lithe body waiting for him, then turned all attention back to the task he was performing.
"Johann!"
The sailing merchant turned around, beard twitching with his smirk as Viggo handed over his gold.
"Always a pleasure."
"Indeed. Will that be all?"
"More important tasks awaiting you Viggo?"
"Oh no, just the usual. Papers and contracts piling up, you know how it is."
"In which case I shall not keep you. I'm sure Ryker will take your place as host."
There was a subject Viggo didn't dwell on.
"I'm certain he will. Enjoy your gold."
He forced himself not to hurry, not to display any eagerness. His blood pumped a little hotter with each step back to his hut, Astrid's boots still there to tell him she had not left yet. He closed the door behind him, turning the key in the lock. He didn't want to be disturbed.
Astrid smirked from his bedspread.
"Hurry did we?"
"You know I never rush Astrid."
"Oh I don't know... sometimes parts of you are in a real rush."
She was baiting him. Viggo resisted the urge to assert himself. This was Astrid's idea of foreplay.
Her lips twisted up into a playful smile again, beckoning him closer to the bed. Viggo went. His boots dragged against the stone floor, squeaked slightly against the wooden frame but by then hungry lips were latching on to his own. Astrid pulled him down to the bed, not even noticably reacting as his weight fell atop her.
The little nymph beneath him had come a long way from the virgin who's innocence he could taste on her skin. Now Astrid was generally the instigator and the aggressor. It was rare she laid back and made Viggo do the work.
Tonight was no different. Astrid shoved him bodily on his back and stripped off her undershirt, baring snow-white skin littered with scars and healed burns. Their work was not without it's risks. Astrid enjoyed her scars, wore them with honour.
"It's only fun if you get a scar out of it."
Her favourite descriptor.
Viggo could not fail to enjoy the wanton display of bare skin, and Astrid did not fail to notice it. Her hands came up to cup her own breasts, unbound before she disrobed to display she had no intention of any strenuous activity. Though their relations could often be described as athletic.
"See something you like?"
"If I didn't we would not be here my dear."
Astrid rolled her eyes, squeezing the firm mounds between her fingers and smirking when she felt Viggo's body respond, erection stirring in the relaxed fabric of his bottoms and rising to press against her still-clothed inner thigh.
"You know, I always wonder what your men would think" Astrid didn't stop playing with her breasts, thumbing her own nipple and moaning softly between words "if they knew you were just a lazy little bastard in bed."
There she went again, baiting him. Challenging his masculinity. Viggo was above such things.
"You would prefer I treat you as a plaything? A common wench?"
"Now and then, damn straight. A girl gets bored of this same old same old."
Viggo was a little surprised; Astrid was so fond of her control. It was strange to hear her request he take it from her.
"As you wish."
She had little time to react before Viggo had her pinned on her front, his weight on her back and irritation on her skin where his beard grazed over it. She struggled a little, but when he knew Astrid was easily strong enough to throw him off he doubted her heart was really in the struggle.
Bracing his feet on the ground to support his weight left his hand free to reach beneath Astrid's body, groping at her breast almost cruelly but she moaned into the bed pelt all the same. Her pert little ass pushed back, seeking the heat of his swollen flesh against her own but he leant back, denied her.
"Damnit Viggo!"
Her impatience was quick to show itself, but Viggo wasn't swayed.
"Now now my dear, it's my turn."
Keeping one hand between her shoulder blades in a silent command to stay put, Viggo resumed exploring her bare torso, ghosting rough fingers over the skin above her waistband without venturing beneath where she craved his touch. She would regret her jibe about his speed.
Viggo could smell sweat and exertion on her still despite her going to wash blood from her skin, but found the scent appealing - his Astrid wasn't afraid to get down and dirty and he thrilled in it. Hand returning to her chest, Viggo squeezed and tugged and twisted the delicate area until Astrid was a writhing wreck, weak for the rough treatment of his hands and wet against his thigh where it rested between her own.
"I'll remove my hand if you promise not to run."
Astrid didn't appreciate him using the words from when he first purchased her. He hadn't purchased her with these intentions, but Astrid would never let him reduce her to an object he paid for.
"Don't get cute with me Viggo, you know it's a turn off."
"Very well."
He unbuckled his belt and dropped it to the side, cursing his overly long tunic and the need to remove first his shoulder armour, then the actual tunic itself. Astrid peered around from her prone position, shaking with anticipation when she saw him pushing down his bottoms.
"Come here my dear."
Astrid didn't need any further instruction there, sliding down to her knees on the ground and taking the leaking head of his cock between her divine lips. Viggo let his head fall back, pressing into the soft slick of her mouth and feeling the heat surround him. Astrid enjoyed the act herself; she knew the power she had over Viggo like this, had used it to her advantage on many occasions.
He fisted a hand in her hair and dragged her up, throwing her across the bed again and hissing as cold air was able to reach his wet shaft. Astrid fixed him with dilated pupils, chest flushed and heaving as she watched him tug down the two layers of material between he and his goal. Finally bare before him, Astrid's body was a thing of true beauty and Viggo never forgot to appreciate it.
Kneeling between her quivering spread thighs, he ran fingers through Astrid's slick, spreading the wetness along her skin and Astrid whined throatily.
"C'mon Viggo!"
"Patience my dear. Turn over."
Astrid growled but complied, turning on her front and coming up on to her hands and knees with only a little prompting. Normally one to enjoy the palette of emotions her face became during sex, Viggo was instead opting for the position that allowed him to reach further depths of Astrid's body. She wanted him rough; she would get it.
The first press of heat was as mindblowing as it ever was, Astrid's body taking his girth like she was born for it. Astrid gasped as he stretched her open, sinking into the wet, silken grip until his pelvis met the plush curve of her backside. Viggo curled a hand around one strong, muscled thigh and squeezed, watching her pale skin begin to bruise beneath his fingers. He took a perverse pleasure in leaving fingertip bruising upon her body; Astrid carried his touch with her.
There were faded bruises on one of her inner thighs, bruises Viggo knew he had not left. Having seen similar marks upon Heather's thighs, he surmised Dagur was a biter.
Something lingering along the lines of possessive made itself known, though Viggo would never lower himself to something as petulant as jealousy.
Astrid didn't seem to mind when Viggo occasionally fucked Heather either. They weren't beholden to each other.
Viggo moved the hand that had bruised her thigh and placed it upon her hip, then without warning snapped his hips back and forth. Astrid cried out with the sudden motion, falling as her arms gave out beneath her. Viggo left her to slump forward, keeping his hand on her hip to hold her up as he thrust into the willing body again and again.
Astrid bucked and moaned and pushed back against him, demanding more, faster, harder. Viggo obliged her every whim, wondering if there was such a thing as too much for the hungry nymph in his bed. He watched her hands fist in the bedding, bunching it up in her hands as she cried out. He reached down and tugged her hair braid, Astrid's head instinctively coming up to loosen the tension on her neck and it stopped the bed from muffling her sounds.
Viggo fed on those sounds, reveled in the heat and cursing that came from her sweet lips as Astrid swore and whimpered, growling his name when Viggo slowed down. He knew Astrid's body exceptionally well, detecting the signs of her impending peak and backing off again to increase her frustration.
"Viggo!"
Her sharp utterance was a raw demand for satisfaction, one Viggo decided she was deserving of. He pushed Astrid's knees slightly wider with his own, then leant forward and put as much force as he could into those precious last few thrusts that would send her to the heights of Valhalla. Astrid responded beautifully, arching her back as tremors moved through her muscles in a full body spasm.
Astrid's internal muscles squeezed and massaged his cock, soaking Viggo in her arousal as he held out as long as he could before he had to pull out and let his climax paint her skin in thick white spurts. Astrid slumped forward with a satisfied groan, staying where she dropped and stretching luxuriously.
Viggo enjoyed the view, the sight of his ejaculate striped across her back and the lax set of her muscles. Well fucked sprang to mind as she basked in her own satisfaction, seemingly not even noticing Viggo standing up to clean himself up and re-dress. There was work to be done still; Astrid had distracted him for long enough.
"Hand me that cloth."
Ah, she had noticed him moving. Viggo should have known better than to question Astrid's acute senses regardless of her current state. He placed the water and cloth next to her on the bed, drew the cloth divider across to ensure nobody could peer in and find her nude. Then cursed himself for bothering; Astrid didn't need such nonsensical care taking.
Letting himself out and closing the hut door behind him, Viggo checked his clothing was all in order before heading across to where the preparations for the next dragon auctions were taking place. Ryker fell into step with him, and Viggo knew what was coming.
"She distracts you."
"Silence Ryker. We are right on schedule."
He didn't deny it. Ryker was irritatingly right. And he couldn't afford the distraction.
But he still allowed himself Astrid.
-HTTYD-
Well... never wrote these two before!