Astrid Hofferson x Male Reader

Chapter 9

Trapper's Fort

(Venom drips into a jar, with a patch of leather stretched over the mouth of it. The venom comes from a thin, sharp spike that pierces the taut skin. Grimmel is watching through the warbled glass. He grins. One of the Deathgrippers is obediently retracting its scorpion-like tail and glistening, exposed stinger. Grimmel carries the jar to a broken down bench in the ruins of a forgotten old fort.

He removes the leather seal and carefully pours the venom into several dismantled darts. He whistles, calmly reassembling them in the glow of an oil lamp. Shapes blur past. In the distance, dragon silhouettes fly low to the water, coasting silently, then arcing up as they reach the rocks. Y/n sits behind Astrid on Stormfly. Astrid turns to Y/n, and he nods. Y/n dives from Stormfly, throwing open his wing-suit to glide and break his fall.

Y/n touches down with a quiet thud, then rises, quickly stowing his wings. He looks around, counting his team as they stand, each dressed in dragon armor, stowing their own wingflaps. He gestures to split up. Astrid nods, then scurries up the rocks toward the glowing window.

Grimmel lifts his hand and gestures toward the door, and his Deathgrippers rise and scuttle out of the room, sniffing the air and hissing, entering the foyer, a large open beamed room, though most of its beams have caved in forming a criss crossed, disheveled maze. Wreckage litters the floor. Moonlight spills in from demolished walls.

The Deathgrippers hiss in unison, tusks extending from their heavy jaws. They spilt up, searching the area, keenly aware of the intruders and determined to hunt them down)

Snotlout: Okay, split up. We'll be harder to catch.

(The group completely ignores Snotlout)

Eret: I was thinking we should split up. Just because.

Valka: I like your instincts.

Hiccup: Come on.

(They rush off together, leaving Snotlout behind)

Snotlout: What is this?!

(Y/n and his team dart between lumps of wreckage, climbing and slipping out of view each time a Deathgripper rounds a corner, narrowly evading detection. Hiccup points to the lit doorway, indicating the target. Above, Y/n carefully creeps up the crumbling stairway that leads to the lamp-lit room. He retrieves his sword and rushes up the steps... finding it empty.

A slender hand pulls a rope. Suddenly, nets drops from the turret, cascading down in every direction. In one fell swoop, Y/n and his team are trapped inside with the Deathgrippers. Y/n and Hiccup look around, panicked. Fishmeat wakes and starts to wail. Hiccup glares at Fishlegs, shaking his head)

Hiccup: Shhh! Shhhh! Quiet!

(A match strikes, lighting a lantern. Grimmel steps into view on the other side of the nets)

Grimmel: Where's your dragon when you need him, hmm, Chief? Must have forgotten all about you.

(Y/n and the others rise from hiding, carefully eyeing the hissing Deathgrippers, looking for an escape route)

Grimmel: First rule of the hunt! Separate the prey from its pack. You've just removed yourselves from the equation!

(The Deathgrippers close in on the prisoners awaiting Grimmel's signal)

Hiccup: Why are you doing this?

Grimmel: Really? I didn't think you cared. Well, unlike you, when I was a boy and I came upon a Night Fury, I killed it where it slept. That simple act of courage made me a hero in my village. So I decided to kill every last one, bringing real peace to the people of this world. Until you all came along, preaching that dragons are something other than thieves and murderers. Pffft. That nonsense dies now. Starting with you.