A/N: First of all, a quick reminder that chapters 10 and 11 are rated strong T for violence. Though you guys don't seem to mind, I've loved reading your reviews!

On a different note, though, this is... shall we say a big chapter in terms of plot so... I would recommend making sure you're sitting down while you're reading if you know what I mean ;)

Enjoy!

Chapter 11

Viggo tossed restlessly in his bed that night, though not out of worry. Stormchaser had been weak but very much alive when he had found the dragon in the forest. He was too stubborn to let one measly arrow kill him. Hiccup had helped him treat the arrow wound (since he had more experience in that area) and they had laid the Skrill to rest inside the hut, with the warmth of the fire crackling in the room downstairs. Freedom, sensing Stormchaser's pain, had laid down next to him as he rested.

No, that wasn't what was keeping Viggo up right now. It wasn't worry or anger but his damned conscience. It appeared that after all he had done in his lifetime, that thing in his head was still kicking. And kicking up a fuss in this case.

Guilt. That was what he felt right now. Weighing on him like he had chunks of iron strapped to his shoulders. Making him restless. Making him question himself.

When had he figured it out? At what point had he gone from blissful ignorance to sub-conscious avoidance, to just 'waiting for the right moment'? There were very rarely 'right moments' for things this big. If he hadn't been so eager, had his reason not been so tainted by the enticing idea of company, maybe he would have worked it out on day one. Because the truth was, his existence on this island since his supposed death had been lonely. While he was eternally grateful for Stormchaser, it was evident that he had been suffering from social deprivation. He needed human contact. And not that of other tribes who don't dare be within a mile of an infamous Grimborn.

He had desperately wanted Hiccup to stay with him. To the point where he had ignored Hiccup's confusion and comments that could easily be put together to form the truth of deception. When the clues had started to become obvious, the part of his brain with questions had simply shut down. It was foolish. His grandfather had always told him that there were two ways to be fooled. One was to be believe something that isn't true and the other was to refuse to believe what is. He had been a fool.

Why would Hiccup stay with him when he had Berk? An island to call home, where his father and friends and girlfriend were?

Because he believed they were dead.

Somehow, Johann had convinced him that Berk had lost the war. Or maybe he had convinced himself. It was the only explanation. Time and time again, Hiccup had shown bewilderment to suggestions that Johann and Krogan hadn't won the war. Slowly but surely, it had become evident to Viggo. It's not like I have anywhere else to go, he had said. The Rider had been fooled. But foolishness was to be excused from tortured and manipulated teenagers. Viggo had been the bigger fool. He had refused to believe that this was possible, ignored the idea that Hiccup was laden with the misery of a blatant lie.

Viggo knew how desperate Krogan and Johann must have been to capture Hiccup. He had seen himself how willing Johann had been to put an end to the boy's life. While it was true that in that underground cavern, it could have been a test when Johann ordered Krogan to "get rid of the boy". But Viggo knew better. It was a clever trick to suss him out, yes, but Johann hadn't cared whether or not Viggo let Hiccup get killed. Not really. But Johann clearly hadn't ordered such a thing this time around. Not even after the war was lost. They had kept him alive for two months. That had desperation written all over it. But of course, Hiccup didn't know any of that.

After Hiccup had disappeared, there had been search parties. The Berkians had scoured every island in the archipelago and beyond searching for him, breaking into countless enemy bases. To no avail. Viggo had even heard word of a group of dragon riders storming the Northern Markets, that no one on the usually incredibly hostile island had dared raise a weapon against them. But that no one had answers either.

It must have taken a while for such a loss to be accepted. Viggo could only imagine. But Stoick and Astrid had done what great leaders do. They had carried on. They had grieved and mourned but had stood up again and fought. And they had won. They had protected Vanaheim, found the King of Dragons and defeated Johann. Krogan had been summoned to his employer in the north, and word on the Markets was that he had been executed for failure to complete his one task. The men who had once fought in great armies were left penniless and unemployed. The whole archipelago seemed to know how the war had ended. Except for Hiccup.

It made sense. Word travels fast, but not to isolated prisoners.

But the worst part was that Viggo had been complicit. He was a coward. He had seen the signs and ignored them. He had seen Hiccup's confusion and changed the subject numerous times. He had heard Hiccup's questions and brushed them off.

Didn't he have a responsibility to tell him? As an ally, maybe even as a friend? He had witnessed the hurt and the illusion Hiccup was living in and done nothing so far to unravel it. And it was coming to the point that it couldn't go on. If Johann came with the puny remains of his army for whatever attempt at vengeance the bitter man still deemed possible, there was a good chance that Hiccup's illusion would shatter. And Viggo couldn't bear for him to not hear it from his own lips. But that meant he had to finally muster up the courage to tell Hiccup himself. Something he had not yet managed. Coward.

"I'll tell him tomorrow," he muttered to himself as if hearing his own voice say those words would somehow solidify his plans. He turned over in bed again, staring blankly at the wall, trying not to let his mind entertain the possible outcomes of the confession. All the realistic ones ended in Hiccup leaving.

"I'll tell him tomorrow," he said, louder this time. His voice pierced the suffocating silence of the darkened room but he could definitely hear more confidence than he felt.

And yet what little confidence he had seemed to have dwindled by the time the sun rose, releasing Viggo from whatever restless sleep he'd managed to garner. He groaned at the tension in his chest. The stupid manifestation of his emotional turmoil. Is this what it felt like to have to face and own up to your actions?

He forced himself to get up, ready himself and go downstairs to check on Stormchaser. He remembered Hiccup's wariness when he ran off to find his dragon. He may well blame him for not trying harder to stop Lars. But if he did, he hadn't said anything about it yet. His silent compliance was uncomfortable.

Viggo tried to ground himself, shove his inner discomfort to the side as his feet took him down one stair at a time. He could see that Hiccup was already tending to Stormchaser, who still lay beside the hearth with Freedom as a watchful companion. At the sound of footsteps, Hiccup looked up. His face was unreadable.

"Good morning,"

"Good morning, Hiccup," he replied, approaching the injured Skrill. Hiccup shuffled to the side to let him kneel and touch Stormchaser's snout. "How are you feeling, dragon?" Stormchaser gave a tired but stubborn grunt and the ghost of a smile momentarily appeared on Viggo's mouth. His determination was admirable. As was Hiccup's.

"The wound doesn't seem to be infected, but it may be too early to tell. Either way, he probably shouldn't move much for a day or two," Hiccup said. Viggo heard sympathy in his voice. He hummed in acknowledgement, patting the Skrill.

"You did your part, you deserve a rest, Stormchaser," he said, then rose to his feet and forced a smile at Hiccup. "Breakfast?" He hoped for a quip from Hiccup, something to lighten the mood. But Hiccup only nodded, then turned to Freedom. The Monstrous Nightmare perked up, appearing to understand the assignment, and they all headed outside. The dragon launched himself into the sky, leaving the forest clearing in an eerie silence that only amplified Viggo's discomfort. He resisted the urge to fidget as he sometimes tended to do. Instead, he brought his hands behind his back and clasped them there. It was a comfortable position, and certainly a familiar one.

"Viggo?" Hiccup's voice startled him.

"Hm?"

"Are you okay? I don't think you heard anything I just said." Thor, where was his focus this morning? He sighed, partly out of resignation and partly to try to release tension.

"I think… we need to talk," he said carefully, trying to ignore his racing pulse. Hiccup met his gaze, silent for a moment.

"You know you don't need to apologise for going after Stormchaser, right?" he said after the pause. Viggo opened his mouth to protest, but the words remained unused on his tongue. "I would have done the same had it been Toothless. Or, I-I mean, Freedom. It's normal, you know, to worry about your dragon. I can hardly blame y-"

"Not about that, Hiccup," Viggo said quietly. Silence. He tried to stop his gaze from retreating to the ground but the look of confusion on Hiccup's face increased his nerves.

"Then what?" Hiccup said slowly. Viggo took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment to gather his thoughts. Where to start…?

But before he could put into audible words what he needed to get off his chest, he heard a click. He looked up in alarm, hardly registered Hiccup's look of dismay at his odd behaviour and sprinted towards him. He felt the arrow skim his bare arm as he pushed Hiccup out of the way and onto the ground. The boy grunted in surprise and tried to push himself to his feet while Viggo cursed under his breath.

Johann.

Hiccup scrambled to his feet, his eyes darkening. The 'army' Johann had brought was not much to look at. But neither was the knife he had in his boot. Inferno was still in the hut. He could see Viggo draw his fire sword from the corner of his eye and clenched his fists. He looked Johann dead in the eye. This man… this man had done so much. All that pain, all that loss. He felt rage surging into his veins. Ruthlessness is not a strategy, Viggo had said. He was right. But Hiccup's strategy now was not ruthlessness. It was to kill Johann.

But how? He had a knife, Viggo had a sword and they were up against seven armed men. Though come to think of it… Hiccup frowned as he noticed the threadbare clothes the men were wearing, nothing compared to the armour Viggo's men and Johann's flyers used to wear. It didn't make sense. Johann had everything he wanted, yet he can't dress his men properly, what-

"Hiccup! Move!" Viggo shouted, startling him out of his thoughts. Hiccup looked up in panic, spotting the bola flying towards him just in time to watch it wrap around his torso. His arms were pinned to his side and the force of the boulders slamming together knocked him off his feet. His head hit the ground with a thud and he groaned, trying to blink away the dizziness. He looked up, expecting to see Johann's men clambering towards him. But instead, the soldiers were furiously attacking Viggo, who was holding his own surprisingly well considering the fight was six against one. All the while, Johann stalked towards him, a death glare in his eyes that made Hiccup glad that looks couldn't kill.

Move! Shouted a voice in his head. Hiccup's eyes widened, his heart beating furiously in his chest. He rolled over onto his side, bringing his right leg up behind him, grasping for his boot with his hands. His fingers brushed over the straps and the hilt of his knife, managing to grip it despite the sweat making his hands slippery. He pulled it out, brought his arms round to the front and wedged the knife between his armour and the ropes. He sawed furiously, glancing up at the scowling traitor as he got closer. The ropes frayed at a tedious pace and his arms ached from the effort and strain of the unnatural position but he persisted anyway, squeezing his eyes shut. Johann was now within ten feet of him and with one final slash, the ropes fell away.

He tried to get to his feet, but Johann rushed forward and kicked him in the jaw, sending him falling to the ground again. But as Johann slid two knives out of his sleeves and raised his arms to attack, Hiccup managed to swing his legs out and knock him off his feet. The Rider rolled out of the way and to his feet as the ex-trader fell flat on his face, the knives now embedded into the grass. Almost out of instinct, Hiccup raised his arm to stab him in the back, but a wave of déjà-vu caused him to hesitate just long enough for Johann to scramble to his feet. Why did you hesitate? The voice in his head was angry now. He didn't hesitate when he killed everyone you love.

But now Johann was up again, turning around to face him. His teeth were barred, he was almost snarling as he slid two new knives out of his sleeves. But Hiccup didn't hesitate this time. He ran towards him and, with a cry of rage, stabbed him in the chest. The scream that emerged from the trader's list was the most horrible sound he'd ever heard, and for a moment Hiccup heard the innocent trader in the cry. But then his face contorted to a scowl again, just before he fell forward onto the knife with a sickening squelch. Hiccup expected to feel some sort of satisfaction or victory as Johann bled to his death before him. But all he felt was emptiness.

The fight behind him had stilled. The men that had once been enticed by the promise of Johann's ambition now stood frozen in their fight with the bloodied and exhausted Viggo. One by one, the men lowered their weapons and Viggo heard a couple of men muttering amongst themselves.

"Is 'e dead?" one asked. Another took a step closer, even though the visibly blood-stained grass made it clear Johann wouldn't recover from such a wound.

"Think so," the Hunter replied eventually. Viggo watched the men carefully, as many glanced between him and their dead leader as if contemplating their options. One finally turned to walk away, but another protested.

"Aren't we going to carry on fighting?" he shouted, gesturing furiously at Viggo. The others glanced nervously at one another and Viggo now spotted Lars amid the six men.

"I'm going home. I haven't seen my children for months since hunchback hasn't let us take time off," said the one closest to Viggo, who just a minute ago had punched him across the face.

"Hunchback?! How dare you use that name!" the angry one shouted. But the other Hunter just shrugged.

"I can call him whatever I like now, he's dead." And with that, he walked off into the forest.

"He never paid us enough anyway," another said, joining the other Hunter in walking off. The other Hunters murmured their agreement to this last statement and one by one, they all turned to walk off, until the angry one was left standing in front of Viggo. The man awkwardly turned to him, a forced smile of panic on his face.

"You have um… proved yourself a skilful fighter, Mr Grimborn…" he said, then turned and hurried after the other soldiers.

Viggo sighed, sheathing his sword and wiping a hand over his face. His fingers had blood on them. But he would survive.

He turned around to where Johann's body lay in a pool of his own blood, fully and completely dead. But if an untrained eye saw the scene, they might think Hiccup had died along with him. The Rider had slumped to his knees in the grass only a few feet from the corpse, shoulders hunched and his arms limp. The anti-climax of revenge. That was what Viggo read in his posture. He had experienced the feeling himself several times. Yet every time it left the same empty feeling. No matter how much hurt or rage or justification there was, all revenge boiled down to was a horrid aftertaste.

Viggo took a hesitant step towards Hiccup, studying him to see any sign of tensing that might indicate he might not be welcome in his moment. But Hiccup remained motionless. So Viggo crossed the distance between them, then knelt down beside him. He looked up at Hiccup's distraught face and mustered the least condescending voice he could.

"Did that… feel good?" he said quietly in newfound peace of the forest. Hiccup winced, took a shaky breath.

"No," he said simply, his voice barely a whisper. He seemed to crumble further, a silent tear rolling down his cheek. Viggo felt a pang in his chest. It hurt him to see Hiccup this way. He hesitated for a moment, then shuffled closer, a little surprised to feel himself wrap an arm around Hiccup's slim figure. What surprised him even more was that Hiccup seemed to lean into his embrace.

Viggo didn't know how long they sat there on the edge of the forest clearing as the tears dried and the blood crusted and darkened, but eventually, as they heard the thud of Freedom returning with fish, Hiccup pushed himself to his feet and looked down at the man he'd just killed.

"All he ever wanted was to be the richest man of the archipelago. But none of that matters when you're dead. Gold doesn't mourn you."

And with that, they turned back to have breakfast on what had minutes ago been a battlefield.

A/N: So... yeah, that happened. What can I say? Neither Viggo nor Hiccup is perfect.

Anyway, I must say, I'm really curious to know your thoughts, so I'd love it if you left a review. And as for the rest of the story... well, more will come in a few days. I hope to see you then!

~httydfangirl123