Waiting.

The only advantage he had at his disposal. It meant time. And time was valuable.

Viggo led him along with the guards to the largest tent in the camp. There was no questing it was Viggo's. The dragon skins that had been repurposed as curtains made him as sick as the first time Hiccup had seen the structure. His upper lip twitched in disgust as they parted the curtains and walked inside. The multiple lanterns allowed a fair amount of lighting. The thickness of the skins would otherwise plunge the tent into darkness despite the glaring summer sun.

"Leave us," ordered Viggo. The guards didn't question their leader's command and left, leaving their leader and their priced captive alone in the privacy of the Chief's quarters.

Viggo picked up a key ring off his desk and approached the Rider. Hiccup didn't miss the game set of Maces and Talons waiting on the table. The Hunter approached as casually as if he were an honoured guest and picked up his cuffed wrists, slipping the key into the mechanism. Hiccup pulled away at the sensation as the cuffs released him. What to do with this unexpected freedom? He looked over his back at the exit, knowing full well that he'd be tackled the second his foot was out of the tent. He wasn't a fool enough to even try. Viggo had just changed his prison. He was still a prisoner. He met the Hunter's calm eyes as he put the metal shackles down on his desk in front of the game set, patiently waiting for him to sit across.

"You honestly think I'm in the mood to play your games right now?" asked Hiccup, upset. He didn't quite know how to respond. It was one thing to be a prisoner and treated like one, but quite another when he was dealing with this character. He felt like a cotton ball a cat would play with whenever it got bored.

"What better time?" said Viggo, opening his hands, his mood all-too light – too friendly for an enemy. It was off-putting. Yet, it wasn't the first time Hiccup dealt with Viggo and his cruel games. "It's not like you got anywhere else to be. So why not kill some time, mhh?"

Hiccup eyed him, still standing where he'd been released from his bounds. Viggo always planned everything from beginning to end. He calculated every possible alternative to a plan, any stray path that could be carved, he could foresee. Every variable was accounted for and Hiccup would be a fool to set that aside. Viggo always won. He was always one step ahead. All he had to do was look over his shoulder to see where his adversary was at. It was like being a cornered king in a game of chess. Anywhere you tried to go, any escape you might try to make, he was already there.

Hiccup inhaled. He hesitated before finally taking the seat.

Stillness settled around them when Hiccup settled inside. He met the man's gaze, the dark brown eyes holding his as if he was a book he'd already read and looked back on.

"How did you do it?" asked Hiccup, his voice steady.

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific," said Viggo as he made a move.

Hiccup assessed it and replied with the most dynamic move. As he did, he tried thinking ahead, about his next move. Tried to come up with a strategy against his adversary's, one that would oppose his. He tried to predict Viggo's moves too. Hiccup took a pawn from his opponent team, slowly making progress to pin his Chief of the Marauders while Viggo seemed to turn in circles. Hiccup tried to foresee his plan despite seeming to be ahead of the Hunter. Another pawn. And another.

"You knew we would interfere with this auction," said Hiccup, recalling studying the reports of the outpost—the number of dragons they would rescue.

There had been soldiers, positioned in a strategic pattern although one that was nowhere out of the ordinary. It had looked like any other Hunter outpost. Yet, Viggo had decided to lay his trap there. It hadn't been a random trap. It had been calculated. Viggo had been there after all. He'd been on that isle when they'd launched their mission. Everything had been foreseen. The timing. The moves. Was he and his team growing rusty?

"You knew we would strike that base, that night."

A Hunter had used chloroform on him the moment he intercepted the Rider. Hiccup hadn't known a lot of people who walked around with a sedative ready for usage unless they were planning something sinister.

Viggo moved his pieces, his Longship, his remaining Hunters.

"You made it look like any other occupation." Hiccup was reviewing their arrival on that outpost, how everything had seemed just too easy. He hadn't questioned it. His eyes had been on the price. But Viggo had hit where the target hadn't been looking. "Why didn't I see it coming?"

He made another move, surprised by how vulnerable Viggo had left his Chief of the Marauders. His pieces were few. Was Hiccup going to take his shot at taking down his Chief? It wasn't like Viggo to go down so easy. Inside, Hiccup was growing smug, certain this round was his for the win.

"It's simple really," replied Viggo, his voice low, eyes on the game. "Observation. It's a skill that can be developed over time; the ability to pick up on details the average man overlooks. And time. You are nothing but another equation to solve, my dear Hiccup. It was a matter of time until I figured you out. You could do the same with me, pick me apart and build me back up. But even then, you still lack an important asset..."

Hiccup stared straight at him as he spoke. He felt the atmosphere slowly drop.

"Take away my gifted mind and I still have something you don't." Viggo lifted his eyes from the game, his features ever so put together. "Patience."

He made another move. Harmless enough at first view. Hiccup stared.

"Do you see it?"

"Yes."

Hit where the target isn't looking.

Hiccup hadn't been looking. Not where he should've had.

"Eyes on the price, my boy," said Viggo, studying the battle within him. The frustration. The impatience. While Hiccup had made progress to take down the Chief of the Marauders, left exposed and vulnerable, Viggo had slowly but surely trapped his opponent, sacrificing his Hunter pawns to lure him in, to build his confidence. He used every skill, every asset, everything, everyone, exploited every weakness and turned every strength against him. With only a few swift and victorious moves, Viggo had killed off all his remaining pieces, leaving only his Viking Chief for the taking.

Hiccup slouched against his chair, trying to make sense of it. How could he be so blind? How had he not seen it coming? It was embarrassing that he couldn't even learn from the battle he'd just lost and apply his newly discovered lesson into theoretical practice. Hiccup didn't meet his eyes, like a child disappointing their parent. Hiccup hated this shame – his inferiority to Viggo's experience.

Viggo rose from his chair, looking down at him like a teacher underlining all of his mistakes.

"You forget to observe and act recklessly," said Viggo his voice hoarse and baleful while he stood. "You stick to one outcome, ignoring the multiple others that are as probable as the one you pursue in your head. The game isn't in here," He pressed his index to his temple. "You're not the only player. You forget that." He gathered the game pieces and threw them back in the box. "And whenever you find yourself cornered, your fight or flight response takes over and leaves you blind and unfocused. As soon as you think you got your adversary figured out, you abandon all sense of defence. You charge in. You don't take into account that there could be a bigger fish. A predator never leaves its guard down even when it's hunting. And while you were stalking towards your prey, certain you had it cornered, I was watching, waiting."

Viggo threw the last defeated piece back into the box. Hiccup's eyes were still drawn to the floor, scowling. Viggo grabbed his chin, forcing him to look him in the eye as he said, "I am the bigger fish."