Chapter Text
HTTYD
Sleipnir Island, Day 1
Krogan seethed as he dangled from the boy’s prosthetic leg on the side of a steep cliff. It had been years since a job had gone this poorly, and he had no one to blame but himself for lacking a suitable exit strategy. Because he counted on Viggo Grimborn’s impeccable business reputation, it never occurred to him that Ryker Grimborn might withhold payment. Treacherous pig.
The boy glanced down at him with an understandably panicked expression. He was barely holding on to a thin protrusion beneath the edge of the cliff, and with Krogan weighing him down, he wouldn’t last much longer. They were both going to fall. Unless the boy realized he was better off with Krogan’s indifference than Ryker’s animosity.
“Pull me up!” Krogan coaxed, attempting to sound cooperative. Surely this situation called for a truce. If the boy had any sense of self-preservation, he would comply.
And for the briefest moment, as the boy strained to reach one arm down, Krogan felt a flicker of encouragement. But then, the little wretch began fumbling with his prosthetic.
Krogan scowled. “What are you doing?”
But it was obvious. The boy intended to sacrifice his leg to dump Krogan. He would rather test his luck against the devil he knew.
So much for cooperation.
Krogan would not be mocked. He would not be made a fool by some arrogant, cheating hunter!
And if that meant falling, then so be it.
Mustering all his speed and dexterity, Krogan hoisted himself upwards and wrapped an arm around the boy’s waist. He planted his feet against the cliffside and pushed himself off, yanking the boy with him. They sailed backwards several feet before dropping, and as they fell, Krogan swept his other arm around the boy, catching him in a tight bear hug that pinned his arms to his sides.
The boy squirmed, shouting for help, but no one, not even a dragon, would be able to catch them in time. Krogan maneuvered them into a vertical position and very slightly arched his back, bracing himself to take the brunt of the impact.
They slammed feet first into the ocean water, and for a long, agonizing moment, pain consumed him. Blinded him. Knocked his breath out. Scrambled his thoughts.
Enraged him.
Years of brutal conditioning spurred him to persevere, to complete his objective whatever the cost. He channeled his pain into fury, clenching every muscle around the child in his arms, refusing to release him, though he could hardly remember why.
Instinct took over, and his legs began fighting their downward trajectory. First, they split apart to help decelerate, then they kicked and pushed and propelled him back up.
As the shock settled, Krogan regained his sight. He was still underwater, and the boy was limp. Dead or unconscious. He would worry about that later.
They had landed in blessedly deep water but dangerously close to the jagged cliff. The ocean’s turbulent waves threatened to ram his body against the rocks, and with his arms full, only his legs could steer. Drowning became a real possibility.
He considered dropping the boy. As much as he loathed to forfeit valuable merchandise, at least he managed to keep Ryker from stealing it.
But that wasn’t good enough. Ryker had insulted him.
On top of that, he had betrayed everything his brother stood for.
Krogan had a weapon that could devastate Viggo’s reputation. What might the hunter pay to protect it?
This nightmare could still be salvaged. But he needed the boy to do it.
With spite sustaining him, he finally managed to break the surface. He gasped for air and surveyed his surroundings. They had landed in a round, deep-water sea cove that lacked a beach, but centuries of erosion, wind, and crashing waves had chiseled into the cliffside, forming shelves and crevices. A narrow rim just above water height offered an escape route.
Gritting his teeth, Krogan fought his way through the water, dragging the boy along with him. As he reached the cliffside, he twisted away from it and let the waves shove his back against the rocks. It hurt, but spared the boy from extra damage.
In a brutal, agonizing motion, Krogan heaved the boy up and over the rim, onto dry ground, then twisted and climbed after him.
Overhead, distant shouting caught his attention. He couldn’t make out the voices, but he recognized the hostility. Soon, search parties would be hunting for him. He had to move!
The rim was slick, but he didn’t have time for caution. He grabbed the boy and slung him over his shoulder, groaning as he looked around for cover.
There!
Just a few meters to his right, he glimpsed a massive alcove carved deep into the cliffside. He scrambled towards it, nearly slipping.
As he ducked under the rocky overhang, he noted various fissures cracking along the walls. Some looked spacious enough to conceal him, but of course they weren’t easily accessible. He would have to climb.
Already out of breath, Krogan unpinned his cloak and yanked it loose. He shifted the boy off his shoulder, propped him against his chest, and whipped the cloak around their bodies. The wet material proved challenging, but after two attempts, he managed to fasten the ends together. With any luck, the makeshift sling would secure the boy in place so Krogan could use his arms.
As he worked, the distant shouting grew louder. More distinct.
“Hiccup!”
His friends.
The boy stirred, whimpering.
It was now or never.
Krogan scanned the contours of the wall for places to grip and mapped out a path. Then, he lunged for the nearest handhold and awkwardly began the climb. He did his best not to scrape the boy’s body, but given the circumstances, a few cuts and bruises were the least of his worries.
“Hiccup! Answer me!”
Multiple dragons rained down from above, including the Night Fury, but they were too focused on the water to notice Krogan in the shadows of the alcove. Still, it was only a matter of seconds.
“Dad…”
The boy could barely whisper, but when he started squirming, Krogan nearly toppled over. His muscles burned as he caught himself, and he scowled, fighting the urge to rebuke his cargo. It wouldn’t help, and he had to prioritize the climb. They were almost to the fissure.
“Stop,” the boy begged as Krogan proceeded upwards. “Let me go.”
One last boost, and they were in, squirming through the tight gap that opened up into a cavernous underground pocket.
“Dad…” the boy tried again, but it was over now. Unless the Dragon Riders planned to investigate every nook and cranny of the sea cove, they were unlikely to notice a small fissure in the shadows of the alcove. Especially when they were searching the water.
Still, after all this trouble, a few precautions wouldn’t hurt.
Crawling deeper into the cave, Krogan untied the cloak and eased the boy onto the ground. He was conscious, but weak, breathing raggedly, whimpering, and fidgeting in dazed agitation. No immediate indication of broken bones. Krogan seized his chin and roughly jerked his head in various directions. The boy recoiled, grimacing, but his neck moved well enough.
“No…” He tried batting Krogan’s arm away. Decent coordination, poor strength.
Krogan leaned closer to check the boy’s eyes. It was hard to see in the shadows, and the boy didn’t help by averting his gaze.
“Look at me!” Krogan barked, digging his fingers into the boy’s jaw.
Startled, the boy glanced at him, but stubbornly looked away again. Time would tell if he had internal injuries, but at least he was responsive.
Krogan released him, took a deep, calming breath, and weighed his options. By now, the Dragon Riders would be growing desperate. Their search would be frantic. Possibly disorganized. While Krogan doubted they would find this cave, they might eventually find his ship—not the tiny sailboat he had used earlier to stalk his prey. That boat was irrelevant. But he worried about the compact cargo ship he had concealed in another secluded cove at the start of this ill-fated mission. It was meant for his departure after receiving his reward for the bounty, and if the Dragon Riders stumbled upon it, that would be… inconvenient. He didn’t want to end up stranded on this miserable island.
The boy started twitching his legs, scooting away from Krogan, but only made it a few inches before he buckled in exhaustion. A moment later, he was shivering.
Krogan sighed. Their wet clothes would be a problem. His ship had blankets, among other crucial supplies. If he hurried, he could reach the craft, verify its concealment, and make it back to the cave in under an hour. But could he risk leaving the boy unsupervised?
He had no choice. He could not let the Dragon Riders find his boat.
Mind made up, Krogan scooped the boy into his arms and hastened deeper into the cave. He found a suitable nook and leaned the boy against the wall, then began unbuckling his armor.
The boy’s breathing hitched in panic as Krogan took a knife to his outer layers, stripping him down to his red tunic. He discarded the wet clothes, then reached for the boy’s prosthetic.
“No!”
The boy lashed out with his good leg, aiming for Krogan’s head, but he caught it mid-flight and held it out of the way. Clearly, restraints were in order, but that also carried risk. In the boy’s condition, they might aggravate his injuries.
No good options.
But for all his struggling, the boy wasn’t actually going anywhere. Pain and exhaustion would see to that. Krogan removed his prosthetic, just for good measure, and draped the cloak over his body to hinder movement.
“Save your strength,” he growled, watching the boy cringe. “You can’t escape, and I won’t be long.”
With that, he stalked away, still clutching the prosthetic. As he reached the mouth of the cave, anticipating all the obstacles that stood between him and the boat, the boy’s whimpering faded behind him.
HTTYD