Chapter Text
The battle had come down to this: two teenaged Berkians, two dragons, one chicken and a flock of leaderless winded Night Terrors with an unconscious leader versus a fleet of dragon hunters who had Ryker Grimborn to face if they sounded the retreat. The dragon riders had given it their all, but limits had been reached.
Tuff and Astrid were exhausted and down to their last line of defense - they needed help and fast.
When daylight shone on the Edge, slowly illuminating the rocky cliff side, no help flew to their side.
At the base of the cliff, twin swords came down without mercy or restraint, only to crash against bare dirt as the dragon rider rolled out of harm’s way.
Tuff was disoriented and aching from his earlier failed body slam, but instinct kept him moving beyond the pain. Ryker was out for blood and losing was not an option; not when his sister needed him. He couldn’t let Ruff down.
He scrambled back onto his feet, launching himself nimbly away from Ryker’s furious slices. As he moved, his eyes scanned frantically for a weapon - any weapon - that he could use to defend himself with.
There was a stick that wouldn’t last two minutes as kindling, sand, dirt, and one small wilted pile of seaweed. So far, the options weren’t great. What Tuff wouldn’t give for just a decent size rock right about now . . .
Ryker lunged at him and he all but somersaulted out of range, feeling more than just wind this time as the man’s swords sought to rend his flesh. One of the tips slashed across his back, slicing through cloth and sheepskin, cutting the flesh beneath and throwing off Tuff’s footing just enough to send him crashing down to earth yet again.
Tuff hit the ground and dug his fingers into the loose sand and rolled onto his stinging back, flinging a handful at Ryker’s face. The man roared in rage, but wasted no time swiping at his eyes like Tuff hoped he would, instead pinning him to the beach with a heavy boot on his chest.
He swore and grabbed at his ankle, digging in his nails to try and to push it off, but Ryker was made of solid rock or something. Maybe he was part troll? Grimborn sounded like it could be a troll’s name -
The sword piercing deep into the meat of Tuff’s shoulder took all his thought and breath away. He felt a horrible numbness at first, but then a pain that felt wrong, and cold, and burning hot all at once. Tuff couldn’t help the scream that ripped from his throat.
“Ryker!” someone else screamed furiously. At first his heart leapt in relief, hoping it might be Astrid.
No, not her voice - too different and too angry; Astrid didn’t have that much deeply impacted rage bottled up inside of her.
Ryker sneered and pushed down on the sword, sending Tuff’s panicking mind back to focusing on how ridiculously sharp this man kept his weapons; honestly the blade was sliding through flesh and muscle as though it were all made of butter. He had the abrupt horrific fear that the man intended to impale him into the sand.
Tuff knew he was making some kind of involuntary drawn out noise, but Heather was drowning it out with her furious shouting, something about how Viggo had said he couldn’t kill him or the other dragon riders.
It wasn’t that Tuff didn’t appreciate the effort, he just still wished it had been Astrid to his rescue. The stabbing would have probably stopped by now.
Speaking of, Heather’s hand seized the sword hilt, trying to -
Oh no - oh please, no -
Tuff arched, unable to hold back a wail as the struggle between the two caused the serrated blade to twist in his shoulder. White hot pain filled his vision, strangling voice and thought.
Astrid, he needed Astrid right now, where was Astrid, was she okay, he needed her help, please ...
Raggedly, he tried to call her name, and Ryker looked down at him, scowling. “Even if he has seen the images from the Dragon Eye - why would I trust him to tell me the truth?”
What? Had he missed something? Tuff tried to focus beyond the agony, but it was difficult; their exchange of words kept slipping in and out of focus. He reached up to try and grip the blade, desperate to stop it going in any further.
“He can draw what he’s seen!” Heather was insisting. “The Twins have valuable memory and cartography skills - there’s no sign of the Dragon Eye on this island, so why not take him instead? He can draw a map of what he remembers from the lenses - and he might even draw it very well , provided you take your fucking sword out of his shoulder! ” Heather snarled, having at least let go of the hilt.
Ryker sneered at her, but yanked the blade free, wrenching another broken wail from Tuff’s lips. As much as he’d hated being stabbed in the first place, the serrated blade pulling out of his flesh was its own special hell.
Heather knelt down, yanking the material of his clothing out and away from the ragged wound and pressing down with both palms to stop the bleeding.
The pressure helped with the pain, oddly, enough for Tuff to focus past his tears and grip her wrist, smearing blood on it. Judging from Heather’s wince it was probably too hard, but his own agony was impairing his judgement.
“Wh-Where is my sister?” The blond rider sobbed.
“Back on the boat, annoying everyone,” Ryker answered before Heather could. She frowned sharply, but Tuff felt nothing but relief.
If they knew Ruff was annoying, it meant they had been keeping her alive .
Heather checked to see if the wound had stopped bleeding but Ryker motioned her away from him with the flat of his blood-stained sword. “Go see if your worthless brother has found anything. I’ll take this one back to the ship. You have a point - he may have some information that could prove useful to Viggo. He should very well hope he does.”
Heather backed away, giving Tuff a warning look, before leaving them to go find Dagur.
Tuffnut choked back a whimper of pain and tried to sit up as Ryker loomed over him, blotting out the sunrise. The man reached down, grabbing the front of his vest and lifted him roughly to his feet, and oh gods did he try not to yell. Ryker transferred his harsh grip to Tuffnut’s uninjured bicep and started toward the boats, dragging him along when he faltered.
“Keep moving, boy,” the man ordered flatly.
Blood was stiffening his clothing and he kept his hand pressed over his shoulder, trying to copy what Heather had done. It had seemed to help, but he was too weak now to recreate the same amount of pressure. The wound had not yet clotted, and he felt lightheaded and sick to his stomach. He wanted to cry, but refused to let himself out of sheer principles.
At least wherever he was being taken he’d be with Ruffnut. The thought of seeing his sister alive and hearing her scathing review of dragon-hunter holding cells calmed him significantly.
He looked back toward the cliffs and shore, hoping Astrid was faring much better than he was.
——-
A punch sent Dagur down, and Astrid couldn’t deny the pleasure it gave her to watch the Berserker’s eyes roll up into his head as he crumpled to the earth. Maybe her friends were right about how long she held grudges, but considering he’d almost blown up her house with her parents inside, it didn’t seem unreasonable.
She shifted her hands for a better grip on her axe and spun to face the new attacker she’d heard approaching from behind.
Heather . . .
The girls raised their weapons, and began to circle each other, as the fallen Berserker moaned, face-down in the sand. “Run from me,” Heather hissed, and Astrid saw why - other Dragon Hunters on the shore had noticed their impending fight. Weapons drawn, a few were starting to stalk over, in case Heather need backup.
Astrid bolted and Heather chased her until they were out of sight behind a maze of sheltering sea rocks.
“Astrid! Ruff got away, but Tuff has been injured and he’s with Ryker,” Heather informed her, wasting no time. Astrid didn’t register the words at first, but her heart started to pound.
“I have to go get him! Is he on the ship yet?”
“No! Astrid, listen, I managed to talk Ryker into keeping him alive, but I don’t know if I can manage to save you both. The man is a shark and he wants blood. If you get captured, he might kill you or Tuffnut to sate it. When are Hiccup and the others coming back? Were you able to get a Terror message to them?”
“I sent one out, but I don’t know if it’s reached Berk,” Astrid muttered, mind racing. Tuff was injured, her brain kept screaming and as much as it angered her, it also made her feel weak and scared and helpless. She hated it. “Hiccup and the others aren’t back yet - did Ryker lay a trap for them?”
Heather sighed. “I couldn’t get the details. You should get on Stormfly and go, I’ll tell Ryker I can’t find you and hopefully you can find Hiccup and the others.”
Astrid, take Stormfly and go. I’ll hold them off.
The words haunted her now and she shook her head, teeth clenched. “No, I can’t - I won’t just leave Tuffnut -“
“You have to , Astrid. I cannot keep the both of you alive this time - I barely managed to keep Ryker from killing Tuff on the beach. Ruff took Windshear and flew east, so she’s out of harm’s way, as far as I know. She’s probably trying to find Hiccup herself.”
Astrid’s heart was pounding too fast and she felt sick to her stomach. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. She never should have left Tuff’s side, she should have been right there to protect him. “How - how badly is Tuffnut injured?”
“A shoulder wound. He’ll live, so long as Ryker believes he’s useful to Viggo. I’ll be there to help him - but for both of your sakes, you need to leave with the Dragon Eye. Now .”
Heather’s words were punctuated by distant yells and running footsteps of the Dragon Hunters - not distant enough for comfort as their torches grew brighter among the rocks.
Astrid cursed and gave Heather a desperate look.
“Go! I will protect him as best as I can until you can all regroup,” the dark haired girl vowed. Heather turn to bellow to the hunters. “Turn west - through those trees! I see her!” The running footsteps changed course and she ran out to further misguide them.
Had it been anyone else on Midgard making that promise, Astrid would have stubbornly stayed where she was to fight every last man. Getting killed or captured wasn’t going to help Tuff though. It was up to her now - she had to go find Hiccup and tell him what had happened to Tuff so they could rescue him.
Heartsick, she turned to run, whistling for Stormfly. The Nadder swooped down to grab her and she climbed up to her saddle as arrows whizzed past, just barely missing her.
The Dragon-Eye was still in the hut, stashed in a barrel from when Tuff had last dug it up. He’d found it so easily and she’d been annoyed at him for it - though mostly at herself. Of course the Hunters would have found it if he hadn’t first; the ground was too frozen to dig a deep enough hole.
A frantic clucking sound behind her made her turn to see that Chicken had made her way back from the shore. She was panting, poor thing.
Astrid picked up Chicken and held her close to her chest, the little hen calming down and peeping quietly, as if she knew the danger her human friend was in. She burbled and fluffed her feathers, and Astrid stroked her combs, feeling wretchedly responsible for far too much.
Every part of her wanted fly to the ship and just grab Tuff, but if she got captured then what? Heather was right - they might kill him and take her alive instead. She had to think and plan this carefully instead of rushing in.
Barf and Belch had joined her on the deck of the Twins’ hut, Belch all but flattening Chicken as he thrust his head under Astrid’s chin and moaned worriedly. She stroked his frills, swallowing back tears that felt useless and selfish. “I’m so sorry, guys. We need to find the others so we can go save Tuff. I need you both to track Ruffnut for me.”
Barf chirped and Belch gave an answering burble, both heads turning to look at each other in agreement. They launched, taking off toward the East. Astrid heard shouts and so did Stormfly - the Hunters were advancing on the Clubhouse now. She pulled herself up into the saddle with Chicken under her arm, taking off quickly to avoid another volley of arrows.