ᴀ ʀᴜʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀꜱʜ & ꜱᴛᴏʀᴍ ───── ♛
pairing: evil!hiccup x f!mute!reader
wc: 1.7k
tw: yandere, implied kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, mention of blood/violence, mention of death
synopsis: You regretted the day they left him for dead. And you’d regret the day you ever saw him again—he’d make sure of that.
A burnish gleam of orange blazed in the bleakness of night.
You watched from your hilltop window—the thatched roofs off the eastern slopes of Berk twisting and writhing in flames. Even from a distance, you heard the breaking moans of ceilings, the cracks and bends of collapsing wooden structures, and the piercing wails of scales met with sharp edges of iron. Despite The Red Death’s fall, dragon raids still plagued the lands.
Perhaps it was all a sign of retribution.
You were told to stay within the safe confines of your home. Your father hadn’t wanted to risk your life, considering how precious you’d become. The next Seer in line after Gothi, gifted with spiritual wisdom, healing, and authority of officiating the next chief.
But the price to pay had been steep.
The house was dark, not even the smallest candle lit. Nothing that would draw a glimmer of attention to the home. A creak ached the roof above, and you flitted your nose up to the rafters, drawing lines across the ceiling. Nothing but your shallow breaths filled the silent dark.
The hearth then erupted with flame and spark, jolting you from back to neck bone. Had you any voice, a strangled scream would’ve fluttered out of your throat. Twisting, you had almost forgotten to breathe. A figure shrouded in shadow and leather stood beside the crackling firewood. Light and dark danced in an undulating battle across the strangers’ features–revealing a horrifying familiarity.
“Hope you don’t mind if I warm this place up a bit.” That voice, boy-ish in tone, lacked any hint of innocence or niceties. He stretched a gloved hand towards the licking flames, doing nothing to warm the ice coating his insides. “Couldn’t help but notice you looked a little cold and—alone.”
A snap of wood made you flinch; addressing him with quivering lips and dilated eyes. Your long-lost greeting didn’t forebode well.
Every piece of leather tightened around his body as he shifted. Turning to ensnare you within his talon like stare. When embers casted a sheen across his face, you braced against the sight. Soft features long since abandoned, reforged into a visage of cold iron. Carved and littered with scars and nicks across his furrowed brows, cheeks, and clenched jaw line.
“Well, this is kind of embarrassing. Wait, no. That’s not the word I was looking for. More like—disappointing. That sounds like a better fit. For you and everyone else here.” Hiccup stalked forward, a contraption of metal clanking and scratching against the splintering floors. Each step clanged through you, until he stood one heartbeat away. “After all these years, I’d thought you’d have a bit more to say than a blank stare. Every night, I dreamed about how this conversation would go. Just like how I dreamed things could be better than what they were. Funny how you can plan for things to go a certain way, but then…”
He pressed his hands at each side of your head, the glass window behind begging to crack from the pressure. His scent permeated, forcing you to swallow. Once smelling of spring honey and rolling glades, now sundered to singe your senses like bone ash and lightning storms.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s a little different.” He placed a calloused finger into the dip of your clavicle. He dug and dug until your pained gasp fell deaf to his ears. Tilting his head, he curled the lip of his mouth. “So, just like Gothi, you gave up your voice. Good—great, actually. This works out better for me.”
The smile that crept over his lips never made it up to his eyes. Not like before. Those vibrant meadows sullied into a sickly, muddled green. Thick and ichorous. And dared you stare long enough, you could never trudge your way out. Although you already felt stuck within them, your hand slipped silently into the pocket of your dress, where your fingers brushed against the hilt of a dagger.
You drew it a mere inch before his hand captured yours, twisting until he pried it into his possession.
“Come on. We both know you were never good at fighting.” He chuckled with private amusement, wagging the sharpest point between your trembling eyes. “I’ll admit it. I wasn’t either back then. That’s something we had in common…until I had to be. Guess that didn’t work out in anyone’s favor on this wet piece of rock. Now, did it?”
Your vision blurred. Screams of the village roared in your ears and echoed behind you. Screeches of dragons pierced through the air, engulfed in smoke and fire. Having consumed so much in its wake, you felt the heat of chaos leech into the glass. Searing your back pressed against it.
“Woah. Hey, don’t cry. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he swept a rough thumb over a falling tear stain. “Not all of them will die tonight. I mean, just think about it for a second. Can’t be chief and rule over a bunch of burnt corpses. How counterintuitive would that be?”
“As for you though…” he continued, and your heart stalled as he traced the cold metal down your flush cheek and neck, pausing just above your breastbone. “I’m only standing here, watching everything and everyone turn to ash around us, all because of you. And don't tell me you don't remember. When you mended my leg. Somehow kept me from bleeding out. Just before the entire village abandoned me.” His clouded eyes narrowed down. “Including you.”
Releasing you from his pinning weight, your legs wobbled. As if he hadn’t just snatched your foothold underneath. Terror kept your feet webbed in place, watching as he twirled your dagger in his fingers like a child's play thing. Crouching near the fire, he mindlessly poked and prodded at the stoking wood. He picked away a scrap of charred chipping, before plunging the blade into the flank of the burning log. You gazed at him, chest tight, aching. How he hadn’t flinched when the fire slicked around his hand like oil.
He dragged the smoldering stump from the hearth, creating a scorched line. When the licks of fire seeped into the house floors, he rose, one vertebra at a time.
“If I’m being honest, I probably would’ve done the same thing.” He unhooked a masked contraption from his belt buckle and tightened it over his face. The eye sockets were of yellow stained sea glass, and the mouth of it appeared like a muzzle of iron teeth. “Leave something already weak, then crippled to survive on its own. Gambling on the high-stakes of death. So sure of the outcome, no one bothered to turn over a shoulder.” Helfire rose and swelled in the reflection of his mask. “Maybe they should’ve.”
The rapid hunger of the hearth fire blazed and curled across the floor of the home. Heat lapped towards your skin, drawing out sweat from your pores. Dense smoke began filling this now wooded death chamber. You inhaled the black snowflakes, searing your lungs once they melted inside you. You slapped a hard hand over your mouth, coughing and shuddering against it. A pang of panic willed your body to move. You attempted to open the window behind you, but to your horror, it appeared as if it had been welded shut.
Your eyes watered, hugging the wall as you traced it to the door. When the handle clattered against your pulls and tugs, a ghostly laugh floated around you. The metal was bolted shut from the outside. A bout of nausea cramped your stomach. Fear darted your eyes toward the stairs, where the flames hadn’t yet reached—but soon. Perhaps the window of your room hadn’t been tampered with.
You darted towards the steps, and before you could place one foot up, a black beast stalked from the darkness of the second floor. The floating embers danced hauntingly over the onyx scales. Gashes rippled in the firelight. Wounds healed twice, perhaps three times over, perfectly reflecting his master’s outward appearance. But as you peered into those feral slits of pure abandon, it was apparent they also shared the same broken soul.
“Oh. You remember Toothless, don’t you?” Your face paled, backing slowly as the Nightfury slithered down the steps like black ink. A predatory growl rumbled above the snapping and cracking wood around you. Hiccup sauntered to the dragon’s side, patting the thick of his neck, pulsing with power. Another laugh at your expense. “Looks like he remembers you.”
You fought the claw of unconsciousness raking over every part of you. Choking, straining against your hand pathetically covering your mouth.
“Since you did me a favor back then, I’m going to give you one chance to make it up to me.” The mask muffled his voice, but the wickedness screamed, rattling your veins. “You can either choose to stay here and burn with the rest of Berk or…” he lifted a hand, hardly an invitation, but a devilish bargain. “You can choose me.”
In the thick of your pounding head and chest, you wondered what chosing him would entail. And considered burning to death was the wiser option of the two. Staring at his demonic viel held no promise of a life worth suffering at his side for. Surely it wouldn’t be long till you dropped on hands and knees, begging him to take your life. To end his drawn out game of torture. One he carefully crafted for years and years.
Just for you, only for you.
Still, you clung to life. A measly mortal thread. Your shaking hand lifted, painfully reaching for his depraved fingertips. One step forward, and the world spun in wisps of red and black. Your lungs and heart throbbed, practically seizing. A calculated arm caught you, cradling you wholly, close as any lover would.
“Good choice.”
You heard the waning words of approval, and through the fading light of your vision, something fastened over your face. Your last conscious breath had been clean, airy—a pleasant contrast to the toxic fumes.
Then, nothing.
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