*crawls out of the garbage can* hello friends! I recently just tested for my registered nursing license and got it, so that's why I've been in hell. BUT here is some more of this story that has honestly been acting as a coping mechanism for me during stressful times.
THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO READS IT! like even if you accidentally click it. your eyeballs mean everything to me. thank u.
The pain had subsided or had grated at his nerves so severely that numbness was all he knew. Warmth encompassed him, chasing away the violent shivers from earlier. Thermoregulation wasn't going to cut it after plummeting into a volcano and then being pilfered from the jaws of perdition. Wood clunked into a pile, stirring the crackling embers, sending the whirl of smoke climbing higher into the night.
Shrouded in shadow, a silhouette against the firelight, Aquaria sat with her knees drawn to her chest.
"You did something I didn't know was possible of someone over the age of ten." She had heard his movements, checking on him intermittently. Transporting him away from the Edge was no simple task. Not only that, but the Night Fury she had scathingly chased off had leapt to her aid when her rescue plan didn't pan out accordingly.
"And what was that?" Viggo felt as if his tongue had become thick and heavy in his mouth. Words sluggish and unsightly.
"Passed out from a temper tantrum." Her hand swiped across her face, thumb creasing her cheek. "You talk in your sleep." The man knew his charge well enough to know Aquaria cried at trivial things, like sunsets and books. But not when it hurt—never when it hurt.
"Do not patronize me, Aquaria." He warned. Taking a careful breath, the hunter sat up. Breathing should have been an automatic, spontaneous activity. Not a process that he had to remind and force his lungs to carry out. He touched the left side of his face, having a morbid curiosity to the texture. Revulsion described his reaction perfectly as his fingers… squished against his face, "Ugh! What? What manure did you smear on my face?" Momentarily relieved it was not the true consistency of his cheek.
"Stop touching it." The paste stuck to his fingers as he inspected it. "I—ugh, its not magic. It should help with speeding up healing and less scarring." Direct contact with lava had the potency to strip away the entirety of his flesh tissue, muscle, and likely bone. The putrid sludge was the reason his face was not a macabre, concave calamity. "Do you actually want to know what it is?" There was also a layer of cooling salve and herbal medicine underneath, which was the primary source of the stench he despised.
"Perhaps not." He concluded with sneer. Viggo set himself on the mildly dreaded task of opening his eye, finding it occluded by the thick mud.
"About Ryker…" She had wanted to unfold the topic since the second he awoke.
"What of him?" Indifference idly pulled his syllables.
"I'm sorry." Aqua poured freshwater into a wooden cup and handed it to him. The man didn't respond right away, his fingers gripping the mug, and masking it by taking a quiet sip. The liquid only brushed his lips, didn't make it anywhere past that.
"My only regret is that I didn't get to see the look on his face as I took it all away." His open hand closed into a triumphant fist. "A pity, really." What had she expected him to say? That he hadn't meant to murder his brother? That the continual chain of events was a big, unintended accident? "Hm." Viggo waved his hand in front of his left eye, deeming his vision to be no longer functioning. The wobbling reflection staring back at him in the cup of water reiterated that. His eye was a milky shade, all dark color draining to match the whites of his eyes.
They were no longer on the Edge, but an island that he did not recognize. She had chosen a strategic location, near water and not susceptible to surprise attacks. "How long have we been out here?" The man thought to ask.
"A few days." She shrugged. And this was the first cohesive dialogue they were exchanging. Strings of hesitation wrapped their sinewy threads around her, refusing to let go. Aquaria had two whole nights to think. And as their chat progressed, she knew she was running on borrowed time. "Before…at the camp," The evening was still, save for the dancing flame nearby. "Why did you save me?" Ryker had her. Unwitting and vulnerable, permanent termination imminent, he'd still come for her.
"It pains me that you have to ask." An expression that could freeze water appeared on the visible right half of his face. "My brother saw you as a threat. The only mind amongst the ranks he couldn't sway." Did it matter? Did that hold value to him at all? "Letting you live would have been a liability."
"You didn't answer my question." If he could execute a proper scowl, he probably would have.
"Because you were imperative to my plan, Aqua." He had recruited her into his army of hunters, beheld her progression up the ladder, and reaped the rewards of what he had created. You name a stray dog, and it follows you for life. "And while you may not be expendable quite yet, my brother certainly proved he was." Again—what was she expecting to hear?
"I will get the Dragon Eye back." If he could watch his own flesh and blood's death with glee, what did that spell for her? Nothing she didn't already know. Previously having formulated a plan for retrieving the Dragon Eye, Aqua raked her fingers through a few unruly strands of pristine white hair.
"There's no need." Motioning dismissively with his left hand, the man gave a sharp hiss. All his movement was cracking the mask, flaking outer layers off and irritating the inflamed skin beneath. "You've already failed in that aspect, and I'd much rather be spared another disappointment if you don't mind." Viggo shakily hovered his hand over the afflicted skin.
A hand touched his shoulder, trying to push him back to the bedding. Roughly, he fought back, swiping her assistance away. "If you would stop behaving like a child for a second," Aqua gripped both of his shoulders this time, poised to overpower him in his weakened state. "I won't have to amputate your whole head..." Defiance crimping the impressionable side of his face, he went rigid with noncompliance. "…Sir" Trying to salvage her impudence by icing her last word on top of her cake, she finally pinned him down.
A defeated exhale deflated his chest. His left hand twitched, fingers yearning to reflexively seize her neck. "You're lucky I'm tolerant of your company."
"I'm aware of that luck."
He had never been fully awake to assess the severity of his wounds yet, but it was apparent that his companion had fallen into a routine with her duty of care. Unwrapping the bandage on his hand bore another smear of the muddy substance. Fingers working quickly and in a practiced pattern, she reapplied the opaque gel and tightly unrolled a spool of fresh linen. Aqua didn't acknowledge his staring, already treading thin ice in regards to her position.
"There is one other thing…" A nod prompted him to continue, eye scrutinizing every discrepancy in her face from his questions, "Was a Night Fury part of your endeavors?" He wasn't sure how to phrase the question, but during his pain-induced disorientation, a Night Fury had made an appearance. Was it real? A vision implanted by the Gods themselves? Only a slight narrowing of her eyes was not enough to deny or confirm anything suspicious.
"How hard did you hit your head in that fall?" Displeased by the question, Viggo grunted. "Are you talking about Hiccup's dragon?" She refrained from referring to the dragon by name. Avoidance of familiarity was the key here.
"No" Another thought intersected, "Did Hiccup see your little stunt?"
"Parts of it…" Aqua wiped away a line of salve that was sliding down his neck.
"Then he doesn't know I'm alive." The turn of events played in his favor. Pulling the element of surprise to his corner. He pressed his lips into a hard line, momentarily pensive. "It'd be quite the reunion. Guards down, dragons captured, riders fleeing… " Multiple scenarios of the Edge in flames, conquered by yours truly flared into his head. Remnants of a plan were connecting. "What would Hiccup think?" His nefarious nonchalance was something to note. Perhaps he did have a concussion, but she indulged in the fantasy nonetheless.
"If you're asking me for dating advice." The only time he mused like this was when they discussed the leader of the Riders. "Hiccup will love your new look. Missing eyebrow and all." Her lips pulled into a smile—the first one in days—mirroring his frown. It was fleeting, smothered beneath the strange burden on her heart. She wanted to ask about Ryker again. Fearing that topic would only instigate a circular discussion in which the knots inside her would constrict.
Quietly, she instead set to work on re-layering the medicine on his face, having to be gentler because he was awake. Skin sloughed away at the final coating, and the silence made his discomposure audible. She poured water from her canteen into the mortar and ground the flax until it was porous enough to be applied like an ointment. Though he winced during application, the man was altogether tractable. Eventually, he stole the jar from her to complete the task himself, refusing to be treated like an invalid.
Aqua did not protest, leaving him to apply the mask on his own. She removed a thin metal pike from the heat of the fire and stuck the end in the soft ground near him. The man glanced over, seeing a long strip of cooked meat impaled on the stick. A blackened circumference indicated its fine finish.
Interlacing her fingers, a look of pure discontentment splashed across her face. "He should have a funeral." The thoughts so carefully contained in her personal pondering leaked out in a single sentence. It was not a loud proclamation, but her only companion was in earshot. They settled into another customary silence. She could not, for the life of her, determine why she was so upset. It boiled down to the conclusion that she had no one she cared to lose. As pathetic as that statement was, it was not a lie. If a man, who saw her as an inconvenience, shook her this much with his death, what would happen if—
"He saved my life once." Viggo said curtly. His accent rode the breadth of his words from beginning to end, wavering like the sweetest of melodies. "I was, perhaps, only a few years older than you." Aqua sat up, eyes glossy in the spewing embers that resembled kaleidoscopic fragments of glass every now and then. Tilting his head back as far as the pain-numbing agent would permit, the man indicated to the three faded scars engraved into the side of his neck.
"Were you run over by stampeding Quakens?" A knell returned to her voice, testing the waters.
"Close…"
0_0_0
"Are you sure you guys actually saw what you think you saw?" There was a lot happening that day, and Fishlegs would not have complained if both Hiccup and Astrid chalked up their explanation to a shared delusion. The Riders were more than willing to believe the first fragment of the story, but were a bit iffy on the second portion they'd presented to the class.
"Ahh, yep. We… yep." Hiccup nodded slowly, "She definitely jumped in on purpose." At an amazing speed that wasn't broken by any motion she executed. Even her jump had been ridiculously fast. The Riders had spent a sizeable amount of time searching around the perimeter of the erratic volcano.
"I'm not surprised." All eyes switched to Heather's contribution. "She sort of, I dunno, does that. Don't ask me how I know." Crossing her arms over her chest, the Berserker woman flinched her shoulder in a lop-sided shrug. She was convinced that the huntress was alive. Perhaps a bit singed around the edges, but alive.
"Okay, yikes, we get it—Don't get between a teacher's pet and her teacher." Tuffnut crossed his arms and contorted his face into a grimace.
"We can't worry about that right now." He was obviously referring to the off possibility that she did survive, along with someone else. The destruction of the Edge was imminent. And most of the Riders were not willing to abandon their home to a volcano eruption of all things.
Hot, molten lava overflowed in multiple streams over the volcano rim, incinerating anything it touched. Dollops pushed against the base of the tree trunks sprouting along the mountainside.
Toothless called to the nameless Night Fury he had been watching over for some time. The little thing was fast, gliding to his side so quickly; she bumped her muzzle against his. Both shook their heads from the reciprocated knock. She opened her wings, rimmed gold. None of the Riders had named her yet, apparently designating the task to the Huntress, whether she wanted to or not. Until then, the young dragon responded to a range of names. Often times, even a projected noise from Chicken would promptly summon her.
She crooned, internally wondering where the human she'd rescued had gone. Despite her loud, disturbing words, as well as the construction of a literal partition between them, she had been persistent. And for good reason. The dragon had found her friend, falling from a faulty rope. Taking her first real flight over a petrifying pool of magma wasn't how she pictured it, but the Night Fury had ensured the human's safety.
And, for the time being, that was all that mattered.
0_0_0
Ancient ivory-hued weeping willows grabbing for the heaven mired the morning in a thick fog. Aqua cursed the humid weather, her brow dappled with a light film of cool sweat. She submerged her waterskin into the stream, allowing the container to pull freshwater inside. Staying in one location for too long was a detrimental practice. It had been over a week, and her companion was healed up enough to handle himself. Those constantly on the move would not fall prey to residual enemies. Evidence of that point was illustrated in the shifting of grass right behind her. The woman tensed, the outline of her weapon becoming heavy on her hip, reminding her of its presence.
There was a man behind her. His fixed stance showing that he had been in that spot for some time. It was indirectly an affront to her skills of detection. Being snuck up on was a poor first impression for anyone in the circles she ran in.
The hooded stranger pushed back the deep purple cloak, his expression radiating a smugness that prompted her to sneer. She recognized the face that she had chosen to avoid in regards to any conversation or meaningful engagements. Here he was, sneaking up on her in the most unexpected setting with an abruptness that solicited malicious intent.
"I have business to discuss with Viggo." Bristling like a nadder in an eel pit, the girl kept her breathing even.
"He isn't here."
"Oh?" The comments on her being a bad liar were beginning to haunt her.
There was no fight. Aqua's body hit the floor, the gathered articles in her arms scattering.
"Obedience for the sake of obedience is certainly not a virtue," She felt the cold blade bite her neck, drawing a stinging line of crimson. "I wonder if the Gods will pity your soul once the life drains from your body." The way he seemed to pretentiously peer into her character, disassembling it and assuming he knew every detail deeply irked her. Another presumption was that he had been keeping a watchful eye on her for an extended period of time, sizing her up and assessing her as a threat. Clearly, he was ready to pass a verdict in this initial encounter.
Every inch of her being sore from the fancy feats of fighting and rescuing, she found her weak body defenseless against his subsequent blow.
A ping of metal colliding with metal prevented her impending doom. Throwing her head back, the woman saw her savior, his sword being the only gatekeeper from her death. Reacting, she slid back and got up, unsheathing her own weapon. The metal rod extended, assembling itself to full length in an instant.
"Krogan. Always a pleasure." Viggo's face and eyes were reminiscent of stone, still, unwavering and stern. Much to his chagrin, the man seemed transfixed on the young huntress.
"You must be Aqua." The faded scar along his eye stretched as Krogan raised his brow. "I have to say, I'm not impressed." He carefully studied her near undetectable shift in expression.
"That's funny, I was about to say the same thing." Impulse drove her to take a step forward, halted by an arm that barred her from advancing. Aqua scowled at the arm's owner, a bit agitated by his interruption.
"You'll have to excuse her. She does have promising potential." Viggo swiveled his gaze to the slight framed girl standing at his side. "If not hindered by how soft she is." Aqua inaudibly winced at the criticism.
"And what use do you have for someone like that?" Apparently about to do him the service of ridding the world of her himself, Krogan mirrored the pleasant pace of the conversation in the deep, rich tone he controlled.
"My reasons are my own." Aqua could not match the intensity of either of them, lowering her eyes to the ground. Viggo, being the behemoth of an opportunist he was, cleared his throat, "I assume you've come with nothing short of an enticing proposal?"
"Indeed." His gaze flickered between the two, charismata curving his lips. "A discussion better conducted aboard my ship."
dEATH. thanks for reading! I appreciate everything.