Hey everyone, Blackviper1738 here!
Before you dive into this chapter, I recommend listening to:
「HTTYD」– Control (Halsey) ~ Male Version by Nightshadow200 on YouTube.
It really sets the tone and adds to the experience—I used it as inspiration while writing this scene!
Also, if you're enjoying the story so far, I'd really appreciate it if you could drop a Power Stone and leave a review or comment. I'd love to hear what you think and what moments have stood out to you the most. Your support and thoughts mean a lot to me as I keep building this world!
Disclaimer: I do not own the song. All credit for the music and vocals goes to the original creator.
Now—enjoy the chapter!
Hiccup's Perspective
The great wooden doors groaned as they opened, and the crowd held its breath again.
From the dark of the cage stepped the Nadder.
Her scales shimmered like fractured sapphires under sunlight, glinting with dangerous elegance. She walked with purpose — talons clicking against stone, wings slightly raised, eyes bright with hunger.
But she didn't charge.
Not yet.
She looked around the arena... and saw chaos.
Freya still rode the Zippleback like a queen commanding a pair of jesters, laughing as they whipped past the stumbling teens. The crowd was shouting, too stunned to process what the arena had become.
And then the Nadder's eyes locked on Astrid.
The blonde girl hadn't moved. She still sat by the gate, arms resting on her knees, watching everything unfold with that cold detachment.
The Nadder tilted her head.
And across the arena, Astrid tilted hers in return.
A strange moment passed between them — two predators acknowledging each other.
Then the Nadder turned her gaze toward me.
Her tail lashed behind her, her wings lifted slightly, and her claws dug into the dirt with anticipation.
She thinks this is another fight, I realized.
She wanted it. Craved it.
I shook my head and crouched slowly, picking up the bag of salves I'd set near the wall earlier.
"Sorry to disappoint you," I said aloud. "I didn't come here to fight today."
She stiffened.
I held her gaze, calm and steady.
"I came to heal you. So next time we do fight, it won't be cut short by a limp or a bruised joint."
Her eyes widened. A short puff of blue fire escaped her nostrils as she took a step forward.
I felt it then — a gentle tug at my mind.
Not forceful like a beast demanding control.
Curious.
Almost... eager.
I let it in.
Just like before, I reached toward her with my thoughts, allowing the tendril of connection to form between us.
Only one mind this time — simpler than the chaotic duality of the Zippleback.
"Can you hear me?" she asked.
Her voice was bright. Excited.
"Yes," I replied. "I'm here."
"Will we fight again?" she asked instantly. "Please tell me we'll fight again. That was fun. The pain, the pressure, the challenge—do it again, Alpha! Please!"
I blinked slowly.
A sweat drop formed at the side of my head.
"...How the hell did Gobber find a masochistic battle junkie dragon again?" I muttered under my breath.
"Is that a yes?"
"No," I said aloud. "Not right now."
She slumped a little.
"But later," I added. "Once you're fully healed. That's why I'm here. I have healing salves — strong ones. They'll speed up the recovery from our last fight."
She lifted her head slightly, intrigued.
"I need you to come closer," I said. "So I can treat your wounds."
For the first time, the crowd started murmuring in confusion.
They watched in stunned silence as the Nadder — that proud, deadly creature — took a slow step toward me.
Then another.
Then a third.
Head lowered.
Tail still.
Obedient.
I pulled out the first jar, cracked the lid, and let the sharp herbal scent rise. She didn't flinch.
No growl.
No resistance.
Only curiosity and trust.
Good.
Because this wasn't domination through pain. Though most likely she would have enjoyed that.
This was loyalty earned through respect.
She was no pet.
She was mine.
And she knew it.
As She stood so still for me.
Let me smear the thick salve across the long scrape along her side — a mark left by one of my clawed strikes during our first clash.
She didn't flinch.
Didn't growl.
But I saw it.
A faint twitch of her wings. The slight pull at the corner of one eye. The way her back talon clenched just enough to shift the dirt beneath her.
She was uncomfortable.
And she was trying to hide it.
Even from me.
I paused mid-application, fingers coated in the mint-scented balm, my gaze steady on her face.
She met my eyes.
"You're in pain," I said through the link.
"Yes!" she answered brightly. "It's delightful! Every sting makes me remember the battle. It keeps the fire inside burning!"
I frowned.
Not because of the pain.
But because she thought she had to like it.
Like pain was the only thing she deserved.
She was still proud. Still a storm of adrenaline and aggression — but beneath it, I sensed the edge of something more raw.
Loneliness.
No one had ever treated her like anything other than a weapon.
Even the trainers here — if they could be called that — only saw her as a beast to be chained, bait for blood, and a tool to train their next generation something to be discarded when no longer useful.
No more.
"You don't have to push through it," I murmured aloud, my voice softer now. "You don't have to wear pain like armor. Not around me."
She blinked, feathers rippling along her neck.
"But pain makes me sharp. Makes me useful."
"No," I whispered. "You're not useful to me because you hurt. You're valuable because you're alive. Because you're strong. Because you're... you."
She shifted closer, her breath ruffling my hair. She didn't speak, but I felt the confusion in her mind.
So I decided to do something I hadn't done in years.
Something no one here had ever heard me do.
I wanted her to feel calm. To know this wasn't another battle. That she wasn't alone.
And so, without warning—
I opened my mouth...
And I began to sing.
Luna's Point of View
Death sings. And I burn.
He opened his mouth—
And something broke.
Not in the air. Not in the world.
In me.
I had seen him fight. Kill. Burn. I had seen my mate, my Alpha, at his most brutal.
But I had never—never—heard him sing.
Until now.
And I almost couldn't survive it.
"They send me away to find them a fortune
A chest filled with diamonds and gold..."
His voice wasn't beautiful.
It was terrifying.
It was the sound of death choosing to whisper instead of scream. Of pain spoken with clarity. Of judgment.
He was applying salves to the Nadder's wounds with hands that had once shredded her hide—tender, slow, gentle.
But his voice...
His voice hollowed out the world.
"The house was awake
With shadows and monsters
The hallways, they echoed and groaned..."
I froze where I stood on the rocky ledge above the arena.
In my pathetic human form—but barely holding it together. Finding my peace in the claws that my beloved had created for me the day before.
Inside me, the Night Fury stirred my real self, was wide-eyed and silent.
The dragon in me knew.
We are incarnations of lightning and death.
But he—
He was the one who sings it into being.
"I sat alone, in bed 'til the morning
And crying, 'They're coming for me'..."
My claws were pushing through my fingertips.
Not from fear.
From possessiveness.
How dare they make him feel like that?
How dare anyone in this cursed village make my Alpha feel hunted?
I should've slaughtered them the day I met them.
"And I tried to hold these secrets inside me
My mind's like a deadly disease..."
My breath hitched. My fangs itched against my gums.
He was telling the truth. And not just his truth—mine. Freya's.
He was dragging it all out of the dark and laying it bare for everyone to choke on.
And I wanted them to choke.
"I'm bigger than my body
I'm colder than this home
I'm meaner than my demons
I'm bigger than these bones"
YES.
Yes, you are.
He is more than mortal.
More than pain. More than scars.
He is power, rage, and sorrow forged into something no god could shape again.
I wanted to fall to my knees.
I wanted to rip open my cloths, shed this human disguise and show him I still belonged to him.
That I always would.
"And all the kids cried out
'Please, stop, you're scaring me'
I can't help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?"
I turned. My eyes burned.
And there she was.
Our daughter.
Freya stood by the dome, shaking. Her hands were clenched into fists so tight her knuckles had gone white.
Her shoulders trembled—not from weakness, but rage.
Because she understood now.
She had always known she was hated.
But this was the first time she realized—her papa had been hated too.
And he'd had to survive it alone.
"I paced around for hours on empty
I jumped at the slightest of sounds"
The Zippleback crouched beside her, silent.
Even he didn't dare make a sound. Because death was singing, and no creature disrespects that.
"And I couldn't stand the person inside me
I turned all the mirrors around"
My knees gave out. I caught myself against the cliff edge with blood-slicked hands.
He hated himself.
He hated himself because they made him.
And I—
I should've killed them all sooner.
"I'm bigger than my body
I'm colder than this home
I'm meaner than my demons
I'm bigger than these bones"
The salve glowed faintly on his fingers as he healed the Nadder.
And she, too, bowed to him.
Because even the dragons knew: this voice didn't come from a boy.
It came from the Alpha of death.
"And all the kids cried out
'Please, stop, you're scaring me'
I can't help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?"
The villagers were too quiet.
Even their whispers had died.
I could smell their fear. It was sweet.
He had stripped them of their pride, their delusions, their safety.
They'd looked down on him once.
Now, they knelt inside their hearts.
"I'm well acquainted
With villains that live in my bed
They beg me to write them
So they'll never die when I'm dead"
I shivered.
I knew I was one of those villains.
The creature who slept beside him, licked blood from his skin, bit into his throat with love.
And he didn't flinch.
He sang of me. And made me eternal.
"And I've grown familiar
With villains that live in my head
They beg me to write them
So I'll never die when I'm dead"
He sang of madness.
And it sounded like truth.
Like every scream I ever swallowed. Every night I dreamed of carving his name into the stars.
This was the real Hiccup.
Not the one Berk spat on.
Not the one who walked in shadows.
This was the god of death and storm.
And he was mine.
"I'm bigger than my body
I'm colder than this home
I'm meaner than my demons
I'm bigger than these bones"
The Nadder curled tighter at his feet.
The Zippleback lowered his heads.
Freya stood tall, her golden eyes glowing like molten fury.
She didn't cry.
She hated.
And I saw the vow in her gaze:
They will pay for what they did to Papa.
"And all the kids cried out
'Please, stop, you're scaring me'
I can't help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?"
He finished the final note.
And the silence that followed wasn't quiet.
It was heavy.
It was divine.
I watched him lower the salve jar. Breathe out slowly.
The world didn't move.
Because lightning doesn't obey commands.
Because death doesn't explain itself.
And because my mate just took a piece of everyone here—and left them gasping in the hollow of what remained.
And me?
I smiled.
Because I loved him more than anything.
And I would burn this world to the ground to keep him singing.