Rated M for suicide ideation and sexual abuse. I understand that this will not be for everyone, but I truly feel this is what happened during Dagur's time as a prisoner.
I don't know how we got to where we are. Okay, maybe I did capture Stoick, but it was to get Hiccup to be reasonable. Now, Alvin is holding me off the ground like I weigh less than a feather. One hit from him and I was dazed and caught. Of course, it didn't help that I was running forward at the time. That's mostly why it happened. I added momentum; however, that doesn't change how easily he's keeping me in the air. I can see that look in his eyes–it's a desire for revenge. I've had it in mine ever since I found out about Berk keeping their dragons a secret from me and lying about it. I don't like that it's directed at me this time.
"Hiccup," I call out. "Brother?"
I can barely recognize the sound of my own voice. I sound desperate. That's probably because I am. I don't really think he'll do anything, but it's worth a try. Alvin looks like he's about to kill me this very second. My brother is a peaceful viking. Maybe he'll be able to talk him down.
"He's coming with me," Alvin says.
Suddenly, I feel really sick. I've never been taken captive before by anyone. I've heard horror stories about what Outcasts do to their prisoners. If I have to be in anyone's prison, I want it to be Hiccup's. Stoick would kill me for what I've done, but Hiccup is too soft-hearted to not complain about that and they're both too lovey dovey towards each other to want to make the other one that upset. My Berserkers and I would be safe there. Not with Alvin, though. I feel more ill as I realize Hiccup isn't saying anything. He's leaving me to this guy! I look over to try to plead with my eyes, but Hiccup isn't even looking my way. His focus is just on his dad and that Night Fury. I should've killed both when I got the chance. Then at least we'd both be unhappy.
I'd never do this to him. I'd be the one to torture him. No one but me can hurt Hiccup. If anyone ever tried, I'd run him through myself. That's what it means to be someone's brother–even a pretend one. Why can't he see that? He's a terrible brother. I want to tell him that, but Alvin draws his sword and it's so close to my neck now that I think I'll keep my mouth shut. Ugh! I can feel my face getting pale. Alvin brings his hand up from my shirt so that it's wrapping around my entire neck. Why is his hand so big? Maybe my neck's just small, but I think he's the weird one here. While he's doing that, his vikings are tying my hands behind me. Cheaters. All of them. Everyone here is a cheater. The Outcasts put a nasty bag over my head and Alvin slumps me over one of his shoulders. He's walking towards what I can only imagine is his ship. We're off to Outcast Island. I can hear my heart beating faster and faster. It's not too late to stop this, Brother. I can go back to Berk with you. You just have to say something. Anything. Please. Fine! Stay quiet then. Brother betrayer. That's him.
The walk isn't long, but I wish it was. I'm in no rush to go to prison. For the whole ship ride, this stinky bag stays on. I'm trying to wiggle free to breathe in something that doesn't smell like the inside of a rotting dragon corpse. Those Outcasts are a nasty bunch. No wonder they got exiled from Berk. Hygiene concerns alone for everyone else would have warranted the banishment. I can hear my Berserkers panicking around me. They were all right about me. I'm no chief. I failed them. I've barely even been in charge for a good year and I let them down. No Berserker chief has ever gotten his vikings captured before, yet here we are. Well, I wouldn't have if Hiccup had not been a traitor. It's his fault. All of this is.
We're at Outcast Island now and that gross bag is finally off my head. I'd take in a breath of fresh air if there was any. It stinks to Valhalla. I can't believe we'll be stuck here for…we never did get that part figured out. Not that it matters. Alvin lives up to his title of treacherous, so he'll just lie and keep us for however long he wants. I'm not going to let that happen. I also am not going to stand here and cower before him like some weak prisoner as he sits on his throne like a king. Well, buddy, I'm a chief.
"My Berserkers didn't have a say in this," I tell him.
Alvin is just looking at me like I haven't even spoken. "Your Berserkers?" he finally answers.
"Yes, mine. I'm their chief. I ordered them into battle, so let them go. This isn't their fault."
"Then, you agree that it's yours?"
"No! It's Hiccup's! Not theirs, though. Let them go."
Alvin stands up and stalks over to me. He's a very tall man. I don't think I realized that before. He's Stoick-sized. Why'd I have to make enemies of two vikings that big? Alvin grabs my throat again and begins squeezing. He lets go and I do take that big breath now. A backhand sends me into a wall and Alvin grabs the horns of my helmet to slam me into the wall harder. He takes off the helmet and throws it away. Now, the Outcast is walking behind me and I'm trying to turn to keep him in my sights. I'm yanked backwards by my hair being grabbed. My headband is thrown off to the side and I can feel my braid being undone.
"What are you doing?" I ask, trying to squirm to get him to stop. "Are we going to start braiding each other's hair now? I'm not touching your lice-filled mane."
The blade's return to my throat makes me stop talking. He has such a bad attitude. It's a fair question, but I guess I won't get my answer just yet. My hair's undone now and I feel hands running through it. That's weird. When he's done, the blade moves–just not away from me. Quickly, Alvin entangles my hair around his fingers and uses his weapon to cut it off.
"You're not a chief anymore," he taunts, dangling my locks in front of me.
Whatever. Hair can grow back. Sure, I liked my braid, but it's not the end of the world. Of course, it can't end here. I'm feeling myself get pulled to the right as one of Alvin's massive hands grabs another bunch of my hair. This is from the side above my ear. He isn't bringing the sword back up, though. It's not until I feel a terrible sting that I realize he yanked this out. Why have a normal haircut when you can just pull it? Okay, this is fine. Just fine. I think I'm handling it well. Why is he grabbing the left side of my head? Isn't one rip good enough for today? Apparently not. I'm not handling this time as well as the first, but it's just a mild grunt. You'd think having experienced it once would make it hurt less, but it just seems to be worse now. It's like he dug his fingers right into the roots of my hair and yanked. Some warmth is alerting me to the fun fact that my head is now bleeding. Lovely. Man, I hate Hiccup.
"Strip him of his armor," Alvin orders his men.
They begin removing the binding around my arm and shoulder armor. It's all gone. I feel naked. Not enough for Alvin's liking, though. With an odd smirk, he walks back over and begins patting me down.
"Looking for anything special?" I ask, not particularly loving the extra touching.
I'm as touchy-feely as the next viking–maybe a bit more–but that doesn't mean I like all of it.
"You keep knives on you in places we won't find otherwise," he says. Suddenly, he stops. "It'll just be easier to remove it all for now."
One by one, the articles of clothing are removed. I would fight this, but there's that stupid sword again just waiting to slit my throat. Everything's off now and Alvin walks back around to stare at me. I've never felt so humiliated, but I'm not giving him the satisfaction of knowing that. I'm keeping my eyes locked on his. I hear a faint, mocking whistle and make a mental note to kill that viking later.
"Like what you see?" I taunt.
Maybe I shouldn't have said that, but I can already tell that annoying Alvin is going to be the only bearable part of my time here. Unfortunately, I think I annoyed him too much this time. He's glaring at me now and is coming this way. He's clenching a hand into a fist that I would be able to dodge if two of his Outcasts weren't holding me in place. The punch connects and I can feel the blood gushing from my nose. I think he broke it.
"You think you can try to kill me and still act like you're in charge!" he yells at me, dropping me with a targeted kick.
I don't even hit the ground because I'm being held up in the air again by my throat as his dirty fingernails dig into my skin. If I don't die from disease, it'll be a miracle. A hard punch to my ribs makes it feel like they're breaking. Maybe they are. Another punch. Okay, one at least is bruised now. The Outcasts are holding me back like Alvin really needs help. I'm already tied up. I guess it makes it easier for his blows to land. Another one is making me spit out some blood. It feels like one of my teeth loosened, but it's still in there. Ha! They're as stubborn as I am.
"You betrayed me, Dagur," Alvin hisses, gesturing for the vikings to force me onto the ground.
He raises a foot to step on me and I move from the other vikings' grip, rolling out of the way just in time. This is my chance! I try to break the ropes and run. I've been messing with them ever since they were put on me. I've done it now and am so close to grabbing an ax…dang it. Alvin catches me with a lasso around my neck and drags me back over to him.
"No one escapes Outcast Prison, boy," he says, reeling me in. "Any and all attempts mean death."
I blink at him for a moment. Am I about to die? He's holding me really close to him and I can't tell what that look in his eyes means. Before I can think what to do, Alvin walks away from me after pushing me into his vikings. A pit forms in my stomach as I see who he's approaching. He's going over to Harold.
"Hey, get back over here and fight me!" I command.
He's not listening. He's focused on my soldier. I can't let Harold die. He didn't do anything wrong. He's a great viking…the only one who's ever believed I could lead the tribe. I have to save him.
"I'll take his punishment," I volunteer.
What am I saying? I already feel terrible. I don't want anything else, but I'm still their chief no matter what Alvin says. I won't abandon the Berserkers unlike some leaders. This got Alvin's attention. He's looking at me now, but I can't tell what that look means. He's coming by way and towering over me like I'm some child. Pointing behind him, he's motioning for the vikings to do something. I watch in horror as one of the Outcasts runs Harold through with a sword. I try to run over there before he hits the ground, but I'm held back.
"I said I'd take it!"
I'm furious. I'm also something else, but I can't tell what it is. Maybe it's just sad. I've never seen one of my own die. I don't like that feeling. No, that's not it. Well, it is definitely part of it, but there's something else and I still don't know what it is.
"You did this," Alvin tells me.
I just glare at him. I don't think there's been a viking I've ever wanted to kill more in my entire life. He's leading me back to the cells. They're as dark and filthy as I'd expect from Outcasts. I think I just saw a slimy eel slithering out from a basket of bread. I'm watching my surviving Berserkers get thrown into cells, but I'm still walking. I guess mine is at the back. Probably to make escape harder since I'd have to go through so many Outcasts. When we get there, Alvin cuts the ropes and holds my clothes above him with one hand. Funny, after everything that just happened, I almost forgot he had them.
"Maybe I should leave you in here like this," he mentions. After a moment, he shoves my clothes at me. "It won't be fun if you die of the cold."
I want to go over there and punch that smug look off his face, but I feel numb from Harold's death. I won't even be able to give him a proper viking funeral. He deserved better. I put on my trousers and open my mouth to say something, but I'm not really sure what I want to say.
"You aren't any better than I am," is what I decided on apparently. "You were going to betray me too. I just did it better."
I don't know why I said that. Scratch that. I know why. I said it because I'm mad about what's happening and want Alvin to feel small and like the idiot he is. That's a pretty satisfying thought. Now, I'm laughing.
"I out treachered the Treacherous! I made you go crawling back to Berk like some wounded animal. You and Hiccup are both hypocrites. You're mad because I betrayed you first and he's mad because I didn't want him to have a dragon army, knowing he'd be just as concerned if my tribe lied about something like that. You two are just alike. Hell, you can thank me for your renewed alliance with them. Otherwise, you'd still be over there, getting defeated every time you tried to fight them. No wonder you got sent off the island. They didn't think you were worth being one of them."
Yeah, that felt good. What doesn't feel good is Alvin marching over. I get in a fighting stance, but there's not a fight. I go to throw a punch and the Outcast catches my left hand in his, crushing it. Good thing I'm right handed. I know I'm wincing even though I don't want to. I don't want him to know how much this hurts, any of it. Being stripped of everything, imprisoned, losing my Berserkers. I don't have anything anymore except my hatred and I'll take that with me to my dying day. I'm trying to get my hand free, but it seems impossible.
"I accept your earlier request, but it's the only request I ever will listen to of yours," he says. "From now on, you'll take the punishment for the other Berserkers. Anything I would've done to them, I'll do it all to you." He pulls me closer and has a dangerous look in his eyes. "Whatever you heard about prisoners of war is going to seem like a fantasy compared to what I've got planned for you, boy. I won't kill you, but your spirit will die here."
Alvin lets go and I wait a moment before grunting in pain and holding my hand. It's mangled, but it'll heal. I've been through worse than this before. What am I thinking? I've never been in a situation like this before. Fights? Sure, but that's it. I could always go somewhere afterwards to regroup. Now, I'm stuck. I'm trapped in this cell, waiting to find out what Alvin is going to do to me. He could go against his word and kill all my Berserkers. He could attack now that they don't have a chief. He could make me watch as my home is burned to the ground and everyone is slain. There's no foreseeable end to it. Alvin will keep me here until I die and he's made it clear that it won't be from a quick execution. I'm no coward and I won't beg for mercy, but that doesn't mean I want to be tortured. If today was any indication of what's to come…I'm not a fearful viking. I'm not. Danger and threats never really bothered me in the past. So then, why am I so terrified right now?