RAGNAROK IS COMING
— Familiar Faces —
Liogoo ran her cold fingers up and down her neck, closing her eyes at the dull pain it drew each time she prodded.
Avrid refused to acknowledge her since his outburst. Instead, he'd barked orders when they must have been drifting off course and stayed at the bow of the vessel. It was a large one, spacious and sturdy- she'd admit that, but it meant the silence became a palpable thing.
Liogoo knew she'd spoken out of turn. Knew the strings she plucked were scars still bleeding and festering but the life she'd sparked in him… it was enough to make her want to do it again.
She had been suspended now though, which meant the moment Avrid finished the mission, Liogoo would be sent to Yggdrasil and punished by her superior. The fact that Avrid was her superior made matters worse. Still, she had no regrets about pushing.
Midgard's single sun had dropped far below the horizon, draping the realm in a darkness barely broken by stars. Even the waters had calmed for once, leaving the boat to rock slowly.
Tannis had fallen asleep below deck hours ago, the time change taking hold of him. Kohuru, trained members of Radox, were conditioned to operate on the most limited amount of sleep possible. Though some had taken the training too far: one fae managed to go a week without sleep and could still function normally.
Liogoo remembered the night Avrid had caught her trying to do the same. She had managed consciousness for fifty-one hours straight and then Avrid took her out on a sparring session. She'd fallen asleep on her feet only to wake up to a dagger through her palm.
Liogoo looked down at that hand, twirling it around in the moonlight, she glanced back at Avrid.
He lay so still on his back one might think him dead, but then a jaw or muscle would twitch and bring mortality back.
The scar on her palm could have healed perfectly fine, perhaps even faded in a few months if Liogoo hadn't opened the wound every time it started to heal. Where she came from, pale, flawless skin was considered a thing of beauty and scars the image of cruelty and hate. Avrid had too many scars to count and he was the most beautiful thing Liogoo had ever seen.
She got up and walked over to him until he lay beneath her.
He wasn't asleep but had fallen into that quiet stupor he often did. Liogoo sat down and then shifted on her side, inches away from him.
"When we get to Berk will they recognise you?" She whispered, knowing he couldn't hear her.
He had fallen too far into his thoughts. One hand rested on his chest where the imprint of a ring pressed through the thin fabric of his tunic. He wouldn't let them steer off course or fall into danger, but her voice wouldn't be enough to wake him.
"Will you kill those in your village for what they did to you? You never really told me- you never tell me anything. I used to think it was because I was too naive, too weak to keep up with you and your Court but I am better than most Graduates. Still, you keep me at arm's length."
She walked two fingers through the gap between them. She was tired of waiting for Avrid to see her as valuable rather than a hindrance or a fuss. Tired of training endlessly and ruthlessly and only being given the most basic of cases.
Liogoo rolled on her back. The stars above swayed as the boat rocked and her sigh drew a cloud in their path. Liogoo had forsaken her crown for a cause that was far more worthy- though she had a few good cases to her name, she felt invisible. She had no court and no dragon, no mate and only recently passed her graduation. Avrid had seemed the best way to make a mark and now she had been suspended; a stain that would make more mess than anything else she had accomplished.
A rush of wind stole tendrils of her black hair and made them dance, tickle her face and tangle. Her heart twisted remembering the old Avrid, the one Radox knew before he disappeared. The one of too many precious smiles and witty backchat. The one that taught Liogoo how to mesmerise a Terrible Terror and fasten bows with the pearls she found from the deepest of Yggdrasil's shores.
Her head lolled back to him, staring at a face she recognised and yet was so different from that young man. "I know you've had your heart broken- or your soul, any idiot could see that- but I wish you saw me the way I see you. I wish you had a little more room in your heart for me and not vengeance."
She watched his eyelashes flutter. "What do you dream about Avrid? Is it Loki and your vendetta? Is it her? The girl that broke your heart. The name you called out and I know you wish I never heard."
Liogoo pulled herself onto her forearm, close enough so that, if she dared, she could lean over and count the faded freckles on his nose.
"Do you dream of Helena?"
His emerald eyes pulled open.
There was a tense silence where Liogoo debated bolting away and hiding, but then he smiled.
"Would you like to know the horrors in my head?" A dark eyebrow twitched in amusement as if he found it dashingly hilarious that she could ever want such a thing. Liogoo frowned.
His hand came up to the V in her lips and Liogoo's heart stopped a few beats. He trailed a cold knuckle over her shimmering cheek, her scales dancing below the surface. When he tilted her chin closer so he had her eyes in a trance Liogoo ran her tongue over her pointed canines.
"Would you like to know the monsters that burned my skin and smoothened them clean?" His voice was soft, and scratching; dangerous. He pulled her in, or maybe she pushed, but that same hand and jaw he'd used to threaten her mere hours before cradled.
She was touching his lips now as she spoke. "You wouldn't tell me anyway."
More than Liogoo's stomach was fluttering at the feeling of him so close. She could taste his breath on her tongue and it sent her head swinging.
She pushed, desperate to close that gap and finally have Avrid to herself.
Avrid held her there though. His eyes trailed the length of her face and when she smiled, showing every daggered tooth, Avrid's strong hand ran down her back and then she was being pulled over him; up and over so that she straddled his waist.
He was solid and warm under her. Decades of muscle and training- the training that had Avrid in control of every inch of his body- was beneath her and that in itself was enough to drag a whine from her.
Liogoo arched her back and pushed closer, aching to taste his lips but the harder she pushed the more he pulled away. His face was stoic, not even a harsh breath to ripple his chest.
Frustrated, Liogoo rolled her hips lower, sliding her lean body down his and when his hands snapped down to yank her back up, she closed in and stole his breath.
His anger was a tangible thing as they clashed and she stole every piece she could grasp.
When she ran her tongue over his teeth, and he refused to let her in, she reached back and scraped her nails just below the waistband of trousers she'd managed to ride down. He growled low and her tongue swept in to explore and taste.
Midgard had thrown up a wall between their Essence magic and even in herself, Liogoo felt weak and empty. But here, where her fingers were free to roam up and down his chest, back, arms… where she could taste the power on his tongue- a heady thing, like a whiskey that burned but by the god's Liogoo could get drunk on it. The daggers between her lips nipped him, needing to taste the blood of the nine realms' most feared predator.
Sitting up, Avrid's hand ran through her hair. He crushed her to him in a grip that had their tongues dancing. Had her head thrown back as he attacked her neck, biting and sucking groans from her.
She ran her nails down his arms and rolled her hips, just to test the waters. When he huffed a murmur of curses and the grip on her hip tightened Liogoo grinned. She crushed her core to the hardness beneath her and couldn't help her whimper.
Liogoo did it again and Avrid took over from there, grating every right spot against him.
When she let herself melt into bliss, Avrid scooped her up and began nipping his way up her throat, to the shell of her ear.
"You say I tell you nothing." He wasn't even out of breath and yet Liogoo couldn't even get enough air to answer him.
His tongue worked magic on her earlobe, he had her teetering on a crumbling edge.
"A man named Gant once tied me to a tree and lit it on fire." The words barely registered through the fog but she stilled, brows and head tilted in confusion.
Avrid resumed her rhythm, building that tension immediately. His eyes of stained glass watched her become mad with pleasure but made sure to hold her gaze.
"The fire wasn't enough to kill me, but it burned right to the bone, destroying every nerve."
His confession was like being splashed with ice water.
Liogoo knew Avrid didn't feel exhaustion in his limbs or notice when his lips turned blue from the cold. She knew Toothless was constantly wrapped around his rider because the male could get hyperthermia and not even notice. Remembered the day he'd come from a mission with his face a mangled mess and if not for Urfan would have, 'forgotten to deal with that'.
He certainly wouldn't feel her grinding on his lap.
His hand in her hair tightened enough to drag a strangled cry from her. His nostrils flared, eyes blazing gold and green.
"Fucking me won't make me forget. You crave power, Liogoo. Nothing more; a shallow and, indeed, naive thing to strive for."
Avrid stood, pulling her up with him. He held her gaze for a moment and she could see every word he didn't say in those eyes.
Not worthy.
Disappointed.
Disgusted.
When he let go, Liogoo stood shivering as Midgard's wind mocked her, even the sea laughing as it picked up.
Embarrassment stained her cheeks. Her heart still thudded wildly and she had to grasp a ledge to balance legs far too weak to stand. Her eyes fell to the worn wood of the boat. She could still feel a phantom of Avrid under her, his calloused hands on her face.
Two gleaming eyes caught her gaze and when they blinked, her shame before had felt mediocre.
Tannis had seen them, how much was too much. He'd watched her-
Inhaling and straightening her spine Liogoo winked at the eyes beneath and ruffled her collar.
…oOo…
Avrid watched the sun begin to bleed back into the sky, arriving a perfect dusk to Midgard's icy morning. It was a strange nostalgia in his heart to watch the longboat ease closer to Berk, to do so alone tugged away that feeling and washed anxiety on his black shores.
Toothless hadn't so much as let Avrid know he still lived- though the latter would more than know if such an event came to pass. Still, the emptiness in his head was worrying, to say the least.
The water surged and bashed at the boat's helm as if it too could sense the wrong in its waters. Avrid had spotted them a while ago, though he appreciated the heads up.
Hundreds and hundreds made a fleet of long battle boats, heading into the heart of Berk's docks but it was the symbol such boats bore that made him look twice. Dagur of the Berserks, now a chief in Avrid's absence, held the sigil of a Nightmare's claws; three stripes like the mark of his mother's most famous scar. The man who'd wanted the Freabole and led them here had said Dagur was responsible for the raids. Yet here, each mainsail was branded in a foreign mark.
Avrid ran a finger over his lips, it could have been another village, one with quarrels to Berk but there was none so large that came to mind. No land in the Archipelago had such might, such developed craftsmanship in their vessels.
The fleet was closer than them by minutes so there would be no time to interact with the villagers, he would have to go in swinging. With his brother, it wouldn't take a second to fly over and burn the entire thing to ashes- gods, with his Essence he could do the job himself.
Rubbing his hands together, Avrid discarded the green tunic and tied it around his leg. There was a spell in place to false the stiff into dull creaks but even it had been diluted and now the blasted thing was going to be a hindrance. When he'd almost lost his leg and Avrid couldn't stand the pain, he'd begged to have it cut and gone. Urfan refused and now he lived with aches and a constant need for numbing balm because 'cutting it off yourself is the height of madness'. The tunic would steady though, would get him through a few fights.
In place, he pulled out the armour designed and crafted himself using Toothless' scales. It was light, skin-tight to become a second skin and naturally fireproof.
Looking at Liogoo and not strangling her would be a feat, so instead, Avrid knocked the helm he held twice as they came within a mile of the island. She was trained to know a language in knocks and clicks and so she would know to get herself ready to fight. The other siren would get the message soon enough.
The fleet had begun to fledge arrows of fire at the village but the human had been right, Berk was a thing to be wary of. Even in its obvious depleted numbers, they handled the onslaught well, using an archer hidden somewhere on the docks to shoot a net from one side to the other would stall them for a good while.
Liogoo stood behind him and the other siren behind her. They were close to Berk now and he could make out faces too familiar- aged but worn like the hilt of a sword a boy grows with, unmistakably familiar.
Ignoring it, Avrid pulled Forseti from his waist. "Liogoo, swim to the boats in the middle and begin pulling it apart. The gap will cut communication and force chaos."
Liogoo nodded and then she had slipped through the water and bolted too fast to make out through its currents.
Avrid turned to Tannis, "you can fight?" A nod and Avrid pointed to the mast, "When we sail in, the fleet will have already descended into the island. I will go and leave you to dock this boat and then follow, yes?"
"Yes." The siren held the same small dagger in his hand but they did not shake so that would do fine.
As he'd said, dozens of Vikings jumped from their boats and ran with roars to meet the scattered- but ready- handful of Berkian's left. Avrid half expected the so-called army of dragons to fly through the skies but it was a blessing they didn't.
When the boat was close enough in the harbour to see sand through the foaming waves it was Avrid that jumped off, Forseti in hand and eyes locked on a burly man about to swing for a familiar black-haired cousin of his.
…oOo…
He was running, his feet finding ground and then dancing this way and that, avoiding a spear over his shoulder and then dealing a swift death to his left. It was calming to be drowning in screams and a blurring sense of rhythm, so he let himself fall; rather than take note of the faces around him.
They could not see who he was, only death in black armour without face but none seemed to care as he killed those attacking.
Even the ground beneath him seemed to scream at his arrival as if it knew who hid beneath a mask of scales, who made its enemies bleed life back into its soil.
Avrid had made his way up the docks and into the middle of the island, cutting down any Vikings that escaped Tannis. The Siren did well at demolishing those that filtered from the south and even hopped onto one vessel and began taking out the crew before they could land. Liogoo had managed to separate the fleet in two and they started retreating or drifting elsewhere.
Soon enough, the screams quieted to a dull hum and there were no more bodies to cleave their life from. The boats in the distance had disappeared and Avrid could make out the flip of two tails heading towards the island.
Avrid stilled, a blood-drenched Forstei hanging from his left hand and chest panting with the beat of his rapid heart. The sun had nearly taken half the sky, shaking off the killing chill of dawn and melting the frost so common to Berk, Avrid began to laugh. How humorous it was that he stood in Berk, that in all of Midgard, it was Berk he had come to.
That fate ensured he would face the Vikings of his home and as no less than the killing soldier he had been moulded into.
Slowly, in time with the growth of flower petals, Avrid tilted his head to the scene around him.
Corpses lay among the plain buttercups and forget-me-nots. The early sun shone on some of the bodies, highlighting those who were perhaps the best of the worst. A bitter wind swept the hillside and the ground was slick enough in blood his feet made whining sounds with each step.
It took a second for Avrid to recognise that he was not moving and then it had to be someone else's feet. He raised his sword for whichever soul managed to escape.
It should not have hurt as much as it did to see that face. A face of so many old memories, so much of his own past squeezed between the furrow of one reddened brow and another. He had no idea what to do or what to say. Logic and training demanded Avrid state his position in Radox and explain that he is here on a mission and demands their full cooperation. His blasted head retrieving memories old and new had his legs itching to kneel before the Viking and beg forgiveness and acceptance.
So he did nothing. Stood still as the Viking was the one to fall on its knees and begin weeping in gratitude, praising the Gods for sending a warrior to save his lands.
How would he praise if he knew the things Avrid had done? Would he banish him an omen or continue to praise every hair on Odin's beard?
Done with the guilt, Avrid sheathed his sword and held a hand out. "Get up."
Gobber did and leant heavily on one leg.
He was older, grey tainting his hair and wrinkles draining his face. Red blood was caked in his twisted beard.
Gobber was the teacher and father he never had, more than Stoic had ever been. Gobber was wise and kind and the reason Avrid had skills enough to know the difference between a balanced sword and not. Gobber had seen something enough to find in his heart a love for Hiccup but he would hate the man Avrid had become.
Others had begun to surround him, men, women and children drowned in dirt and blood but all alive. Avrid helped the blacksmith sit down on a collapsed straw roof. He turned to spot Liogoo in amongst the fallen, shouting orders at Tannis as she began patching up Vikings. Avrid didn't notice Stoic until the chief stood in front of him.
"Who are you?" It took a minute for Avrid to think clearly.
His father aged and not well. Grey spoiled the redness of his beard- plaited, not cut, to show his power as a Viking chief. But more than the wrinkles between his cheeks and the roundness of his face was the dead silence of his eyes. His father was always alight with some sort of madness, something always brewing in his head. There was only a cold distance now. For a small child that light was terrifying but Avrid was not small anymore, in fact, he was as tall if not more so than his giant of a father.
When Avrid didn't answer, Stoic asked again- though Gobber put a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"He saved us. Killed every last one of Dagur's soldiers in minutes. Stoic, he is a gift from the Gods."
His father, mortal and yet more terrifying than the Giants of Jotunheim, shrugged off Gobber. "Then tell me, gift, what is your name?"
Stoic was a naturally suspicious person; that, at least, hadn't changed.
Avrid reached for the helmet. He ran a hand down its middle and watched the faces of awe as his armour melted off. He expected gasps and shrieks of his old name. Would not be surprised if people began throwing rocks at him and screaming for his head.
But not a soul seemed to recognise him.
…oOo…
"Your name?" Stoic repeated.
"Avrid. Avrid Guigrain Olann."
Stoic dipped his head and offered his arm. "You have saved my village, or at least what was left of it." Avrid clasped that arm.
"A feast in your honour."
Avrid shook his head, gathering his thoughts and forcing his hands to stay steady. "There is work to be done. Dagur will attack again and your village will not survive another round."
"Dagur?" Sparkling familiarity creased the bags under Stoic's eyes. "Dagur Bloodvist? He is the barbarian responsible for all this?"
Liogoo came up then. She was unmarked and pristine, smiling even as she put a hand on Avrid's shoulder.
"There's one alive if you want to question him." She spoke Elvish and the swirling language had Stoic frown at them.
Nodding, Avrid turned back to his father. "There is much to explain-"
"Hiccup? Is that you?"
The name spoken aloud was enough to make Avrid stop but as Gobber's face fell, he knew there was nothing in the nine realms that should have made him come back. There was no sense in returning to the blasted island.
The name had a ripple effect in the small crowd gathered and other names began popping in his head.
Snoutlout, Ruffnut, Spitelout, Gothi and he couldn't tell if Astrid's absence was worse or better.
Stoic's large hands gripped his shoulders and suddenly he was faced with, not a cold version of his father, but a more shocking one. Tears slid down those cheeks and something akin to despair and relief looked at Avrid.
"My boy?"
Avrid pushed away from the old Viking and it took every inch of him to remember the kind of man his father was, the pain he had caused, the reason he had left in the first place. Maddingly there seemed no reason at all worth the pain in his father's eyes.
There were nights he'd dreamt of this, of sailing back to Berk. Of returning to a place that was never his home but a prison, a trauma, an insult to describe his inaptness. He'd thought of every possible scenario, Stoic would hug him, slap, kill or curse him. In some, he arrived and not a soul even remembered who he was. In others, his father was dead or the village and there was nothing left of Berk other than rotting wooden homes.
Stoic never cared for him. Hiccup was only ever a disappointment, a weak link in his path to conquer the dragons of the realm. The child he was left with when his wife died. It was fitting Hiccup died a very long time ago.
He looked around at the faces turned up at him in awe and wonder. He caught every eye and remembered when they hated and cursed his being, when his absence was a blessing because existing in their presence was too much. He looked at a blonde twin and recalled how she was the first to push him into Norway's icy seas. The idea seemed harmless now but at five the event was more than traumatic. Avrid looked at his cousin, a bully and nothing more but coming home to one's dead pet strung under your pillow did for a healthy dose of hate.
Through every eye there, not a pair of sapphires could he find. The question was on the tip of his tongue, to ask of her absence but facing his only friendly face held more anxiety than standing before his father.
Stoic had gone white, his face melting and throat constricting to turn his face red. Again, he grasped Avrid as if afraid he was only a hallucination.
"Yes, you once knew a boy named Hiccup but I am Avrid now."
"You can be called sheep shit for all I care, come here boy!" Gobber didn't give Avrid a chance to object before he was almost assaulted by the Viking. He let the old blacksmith have his moment before pulling away.
"Stoic," the man flinched, his name never sounded more wrong, "tell me the casualties of this island. How many have you lost?"
His father ran the back of his hand across his chin and straightened, if there was one thing Chief Stoic the Vast could do, it was lead.
"Avreed-"
"Avrid."
"- I thank you for your charity to my village but you'll not bark orders at me. Me, Gobber an' Gothi need to tend to whatever is left of my people and after, you can join the meeting and everyone will hear of… what you have to say."
There was nothing in his father's tone but deadpan orders. Avrid crossed his arms but nodded, he would follow every rule in Radox, be respectful of a ruler's command and only reprieve when insult to person or home is called out.
A returning nod came from Stoic and with a second look, the chief began walking over to a fallen Molded: a woman who ran the fields if Avrid remembered right. The people dissipated at Stoic's instructions to help those who were wounded.
Tannis ran a hand down the edge of his blade, cleaning blood and dirt and wiping it on the body of a Berserker. "What are we to do?
Avrid could practically hear Liogoo roll her eyes. "Have you never been in a battle before? We help the injured dumbass, get a move on." She shoved the siren towards a child who seemed more terrified of Liogoo than the gash on her leg.
Avrid, still in a haze, showed the pair off to another woman and knelt before the child. She was small and thin- an oddity for a Berkian but he could see the will in her muddy eyes.
"May I?" Avrid held his hand above her knee. The girl was terrified, her frail limbs shaking let him know there was enough adrenaline in her to ward off any pain. She nodded and braided pigtails bobbed.
Smiling, Avrid shifted her knee into his lap. "What's your name?"
"Fr- Freya." She gulped audibly as Avrid began probing the bear hide off her calves.
He sucked in a breath, "A mighty name. Would you believe me if I said I've met the goddess herself?"
"Your Hiccup Haddock, aren't you? Chief Stoick's lost son."
Avrid glanced up at her.
There was a wonder in her eyes but more than that was fear. She would have been far too young to know him from memory, so he must have made a mark in his absence. He supposed she was brought up being told of a scrawny boy who couldn't even hold an axe, a coward who left but there nothing scrawny left of Hiccup now.
"Yes, you know of me?" Talking would keep her mind busy, she hadn't even noticed Avrid had begun tying parts of her shredded clothes around the wound to stem the blood flow.
Freya frowned, "I thought you were dead."
"Maybe I am."
"No, you're not. You're digging the debris from my leg so I don't catch an infection."
His eyes went wide.
"Gothi teaches me how to heal because I can't fight." She blinked. There was no shame in her small voice, only firm truth.
Hiding a smirk, Avrid stood and held his hand out. "So you know the best treatment is to let me carry you into the Great Hall and for you to rest."
Freya, who had to be no more than fourteen years of age, bashed away Avrid's hand and struggled to one foot. "No. The best thing a healer can do is heal."
A finger came up to point at his neck, "I wouldn't trust you with any wounds if that's how they look when you're finished."
She had fire and the thought had Avrid shrugging, she need not know no healing in the nine realms could fix the ugly patterns marring his skin.
Freya marched on, dragging one leg and hopping on the other to the Great Hall. He knew she wouldn't rest but there were more pressing matters to attend to than ensuring she did.
Avrid called at Liogoo and followed her to the Berserker she had kept alive.
…oOo…
I had so, so many different ways I wanted this reunion to play out but I settled on this rather anti-climatic version because I really want this to play out how I imagine Avrid would react rather than the dramatic reunion I know everyone wants. This entire scene was the one I have been dreading and looking forward to the most and I'm not 100% happy with the outcome but we're here so hopefully nobody hates this chapter too much. I was very tempted to leave you all on a cliffhanger so at least there's none of that foolery.
Now, I am still going over previous chapters and being very unprofessional and fixing them up so the different layout of tiles will let you know the difference.
The next chapter, we all know the drill by now, is a vague one and then we get right back to it so until then I appreciate every one of you who recently added RIC to your favourites and I will see you all soon- hopefully.