Vibrations. So many of them. His sense of hearing and smell aren't the only tools Hiccup uses to estimate his environment. The elasticity of the metal in his prosthetic transmits the vibrations with ease, hinting at everything occurring outside the circular arena he's standing in. The only reason Hiccup knows of its shape is from memory—from his excessive studying of Viggo's base. He remembers when he was obsessed with the Dragon Hunter lord, how he would go on reconnaissance missions on his own to learn more about the Grimborn brother and how he might be able to infiltrate the island undetected. Near the tunnels' primary access, the arena by the cliffs stood out like a sore thumb. It's impossible to ignore. It's where Hunters used to slaughter unsellable dragons for sport. Now it's where Johann has Krogan tame the Singetails they capture every other week.
He can sense the heavy landing of dragons. There's one persistent stomping nearby. It's almost soundless, but he can tell there's something big turning in circles close by. He can hear their pained screeches as chains dig into their scales, much like those scraping against his skin. His wrists are sore from pulling and tugging against his bounds. He might not be able to see the colour of the bruises forming, but he can certainly feel it. Somehow, not being able to see the damage he's doing to himself makes the pain all the more tolerable. When he was just a boy, Hiccup remembers how he'd cut himself with his hunting knife—the knife Stoick had gifted him for his eighth birthday and the same one he used to free Toothless from the ropes when he first met the Night Fury. He'd cut himself badly on his thumb, but he hadn't registered the pain until he'd seen the wound and all the blood gushing out. Somehow, he'd only begun feeling the hurt when he saw all that red.
Hiccup can visualize his situation: he's alone, in the middle of the arena, his wrists chained to a wooden pole anchored to the stone floor. The chain that links him to the post goes through a thick metal ring, probably more likely meant for wild dragons.
Crickets chirp loudly all around, muffling the shouts of soldiers in the distance. He doesn't know how long he's been shackled here. The last thing he remembers is the taste of blood in his mouth and a feeling of satisfaction. But that feeling is long gone. His body aches, and his head feels ten feet underwater. Every tiny cut stings like someone rubbed salt in his wounds.
He wonders how it was for Astrid when she lost sight—if she was as terrified as he is now. True that she wasn't at their enemies' mercy. Maybe her fears were whether she would ever see another sunrise again. His circle around his survival. It's a raw, primitive fear—the fight, flight, or freeze response. He can't fight blind. He can't run away, either, not like this. The chances of that are pretty slim. His primary reaction is to freeze—how a Flightmare victim is frozen. And that terrifies him—the inability to react appropriately—to fight or run in the face of a threat. He's a sitting duck. He's not Astrid. He's not a soldier, ready to take on the world and help himself to the resources he has. He's a prisoner. A blind, defenceless prisoner.
Something shifts in the atmosphere. Hiccup can sense it like a breeze. His hands close around the links, and the rhythmic clanking of his chains from his restless tugging is silenced, just like the crickets in the bushes surrounding the arena do. The stillness in the air is suffocating, and Hiccup holds his breath where he stands. He stares blankly at the ground while his ears perk up to pick up the slightest sound that will compromise the threat's position.
The sudden screech of a rusty metal gate causes Hiccup to jump, and the Rider spins toward the arena's entrance. He hears it bang against the frame, followed by a lazy gait. He does not need to ask who it is. The discretion is enough for him to strikethrough Johann, Krogan, or any other soldier.
"Well, I never would've pictured this in a thousand years." The smooth yet gruff voice confirms his suspicions. "Whatever happened to you, Hiccup?"
"Save your riddles, Viggo," Hiccup rasps. His fuse is shorter than it's been in a long time. "I'm sick of it. I'm sick of you."
"So easily irritable. I see," Viggo says, and Hiccup can hear the steps come closer, the voice growing even clearer. "That's not very characteristic of you, my dear. You've always been so… slow to anger."
He straightens up even more, clinking the chains as he does so. He can tell his knuckles are turning white just by how tight his grip on the links grows. Viggo is too close, and he's too blind. The darkness of nightfall makes him utterly blind. He's in the dark. He's the only one in the dark, and it makes his heart rate go up as the Hunter circles him like a shark does a bleeding Viking in deep waters.
Hiccup swallows, keeping still despite his body's need to quiver. He tenses up, grinding his teeth.
"And how would you know?" he manages.
"Hiccup, please," Viggo purrs from his left. It takes everything not to spin around and put as much distance between them as the chains allow. It would only underline his helplessness and his fear of him. "We've been at this, for what, 2 years now? Give or take? I know you."
"No," Hiccup spits. "You don't."
"I know about that pain of betrayal that inhabits you," Viggo proceeds. "Johann played his hand well. The effect he has on you is one I wish I had."
Hiccup takes an involuntary step back—the metal of his leg scrapes against the stone.
"You, who is always so observant, should have seen this coming," Viggo adds, his voice low. It feels like speaking with a fantom. "I guess you were blinded by friendship with a merchant. It's the reason I don't do companionship, my dear. They take advantage. They leave you vulnerable. Do you feel vulnerable now, Hiccup?"
The need to put distance between himself and Viggo flips, and Hiccup can feel Viggo's breath as the shackles bite into his skin and the chains straighten from the tension, preventing him from stepping outside his radius. He bares his teeth at the Hunter like a wild dragon, his saltwater hair dangling over his eyes. They're inches apart, and Hiccup can practically hear him smirk. He pictures the discreet pull at the corner of his mouth—always the right corner.
It's when Viggo's hand wraps around his sharp jaw that Hiccup snaps back to reason. He pulls away, but Viggo fastens his grip, holding him tight while Hiccup's hands reach his forearm. He fights his hold—trashing around like some trapped critter desperate to escape. Perhaps that's all he is. Some troublesome critter messing with angry wolves.
Viggo backs him up until the post hits Hiccup between the shoulder blades. His hold is harsh, and Hiccup eventually surrenders to it. His face is too close for comfort.
"Look at me, Hiccup," Viggo orders, low-toned.
Hiccup doesn't, and the grip tightens painfully. He squints his eyes, shaking his head sideways. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't. He can't look at him. He cannot see him. But he tries nonetheless to find the Hunter's gaze. His eyes widen as he tries to let in more light—like a feline might when they hunt. But it's useless. He cannot even see a silhouette, not with so little light. In daylight, he can make out shapes. His vision is blurry, but he can make out his surroundings. Nighttime is a different game. It's a complete blackout.
He raises his gaze, trying to guess where the Hunter's eyes might be. But it's only guesses.
"Fascinating…" Viggo murmurs. He releases him softly and takes a step back. "I heard what happened with the Armorwing. That dragon's blast is known to permanently blind other dragons. No Viking has ever walked away from an attack. You are lucky to walk away deprived of sight only."
"'Lucky' is a kind word," Hiccup mumbles back, letting himself slide down the post until he's sitting on the cold arena floor.
"You're right," he agrees with a scoff. "The unlucky part is having Krogan at the same place, at the same time. But, believe me, the man is senseless and obsessed; this would've happened sooner or later, my dear."
Hiccup hangs his head. The weight of the chains is an unnecessary reminder.
"So this is it, huh?" Hiccup says, desperation seeping through as he raises his head at the Hunter standing before him. "Slaughtered in an arena?"
"What better place?"
The question makes his heart sink, but that voice doesn't belong to Viggo Grimborn. No. It's needless for Hiccup to search for the source. Johann stands high over the arena ground. His voice carries, bouncing off the bare walls of the arena. Viggo grows tense, and somehow, Hiccup senses it. He curiously quirks an eyebrow while his eyes narrow to the ground. It feels like speaking with ghosts—beings he cannot see.
"The entire Archipelago knows of the great legend of the Dragon Conqueror!" Johann booms. The sound, to Hiccup, is deafening. It's disorienting. "The story of Hiccup Haddock the Third and the day he refused to kill a dragon. You know, Hiccup, I was there during your final test all those years ago. The day you were supposed to kill that Monstrous Nightmare. The day you were supposed to demonstrate courage. But instead, you refused to kill a dragon. In front of Stoick the Vast, your own father and Chief. Now that takes a lot of guts."
"What is this about, Johann?" Hiccup shouts at the darkness.
The memories of that day flood his mind like a bad drug. It's the day he turned his back on Viking ways. It's the day he stood up to his people for the first time. And as much as that day was pivotal for better ways of life for Berk and dragons alike, it's also the day he truly disappointed his father. And that day is a bad memory. It drowns him in uncertainty—the way he was uncertain that day. He remembers how Stoick had made him feel—how he'd thrown him off of him in the Great Hall when he'd begged him to listen. He'd never felt smaller, and he'd felt small his entire life.
Hiccup catches himself, blinks away the overwhelming emotions, and settles the angry mask back over his face. He cannot have anyone see the effect of those memories in the colour of his eyes.
He feels the eyes of both Johann and Viggo burning into him, but they each burn differently.
"All I'm saying is," Johann continues. "What better resting place for the Dragon Conqueror than the arena that built him into the coward he is today? If I were more poetic, I'd use Berk's arena, but alas, it would only be a waste of resources to lay siege on Berk for the sole purpose of creating a tableau."
"That's rich coming from you," Hiccup spits, furrowing his eyebrows.
"You want dragons and Vikings to live peacefully together. Like some dragon utopia, correct?" His tone changes drastically. "Allow me to demonstrate why such nonsense is so unpopular."
There's an uncomfortable pause before the loud sound of clanking gears swallows the silence. The unmistakable growl of a dragon resonates through the ground as a gate opens up, closely followed by an angry shriek that Hiccup matches to a Monstrous Nightmare.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Viggo snarls at Johann over the agitated dragon's racket.
"I'm simply showing our dear old friend Hiccup the monsters inside these beasts," Johann answers stiffly. "So I would suggest you step out, Grimborn…"
"Need I remind you that when an animal is removed from its home, beaten and scarred, it will kill anything in its path to regain its freedom?" Viggo asks, and Hiccup senses the honest curiosity in the question as if Viggo were truly wondering whether Johann is insane. "Dragons are not different. They will prioritize their survival. Are you ready to sacrifice our grandest and most valuable prisoner to make a point?"
"You've lost your wits, Viggo," Johann counters, his voice carrying. "Need I remind you that this boy has been a pain in my rear for the last half-decade? I believe I've learnt my lesson regarding Hiccup Haddock and captivity. You might think you know Hiccup, but you don't know him nearly as well as I do. Trust me when I say you do not want to let this opportunity to slay the Dragon Conqueror slip between your fingers like the eel he is."
Hiccup can't help but shrug. He looks back on all those times he ended up cornered and somehow still managed to escape. Johann's statement might be his doom, but he must admit he is right. He has escaped unmountable peril before, and if the Gods still love him as much as they've loved him all along, he still believes he can escape despite all the odds. And from his analysis so far, Viggo Grimborn, strangely, seems like his best shot. Johann wants him dead. Viggo values his life. If the Hunter can be that wall between him and the merchant, however unlikely it sounds, he'll take it over getting shredded to pieces by a furious and wild Monstrous Nightmare.
The heavy stomping and the sound of sharp claws on stone send tremors through his body, and Hiccup instinctively tugs at the chains again. The pain around his wrists is almost a fantom as the adrenaline slowly floods his system.
Hiccup catches running steps over the dragon's roars. He cannot tell what's happening without Johann or Viggo speaking. But he catches Viggo's voice a distance away—outside the arena where he ran off. The sound of a struggle suggests Viggo's interference with whatever was to occur. The sound of gears working sends his stomach churning again, but Hiccup quickly realizes that the gate is closing, with the dragon behind it.
Silence hovers. The heavy stomping carries on as the dragon on the other side circles, going mad.
"You're throwing away an opportunity, Johann," Viggo pants from the opposite side of Johann. "Our prisoner is visually impaired. Use that."
Hiccup can hear the disapproval in the silence that follows. Viggo interfered with Johann's plan to kill him off by dragon. He can only guess he intercepted the soldier about to pull the lever that would cut the dragon loose of its chains and set it free in the arena.
"Hmm… Perhaps I will," Johann says after long thought. "Leave him out here for the while being. No water. No food. And if the wolves come for him, let them feed."
Hiccup can sense Johann's presence vanishing as he turns and walks away. He can equally sense Viggo's lingering soul standing over the arena's edge, looking down at him like a dark angel.
Surely hope you guys enjoyed that one (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ I got carried away.