Hiccup's Point of View
We stood at the edge of the woods, cloaked in the stillness of night.
The stars above were clear—too clear. It made the glow of the hearth inside Astrid's house all the more distinct. Warm. Familiar. Deceiving.
I could see it from here—the flicker of firelight through the windows. The shadow of movement behind thin curtains.
A lie painted in domestic peace.
I shifted slightly in the dark, adjusting my claws at my side. Luna stood at my right, silent and poised, golden eyes sharp and waiting. Her tension echoed mine through the link... but her bloodlust was carefully kept on a leash.
This wasn't a battlefield.
Yet.
Astrid stood in front of us, staring at her home with a look I couldn't quite place. Not rage. Not fear.
Resolve.
Hate.
She exhaled softly, then turned to face us.
"I'll go in first," she said quietly. "Draw their attention."
Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
"I know my father. His strength, his pride. I... I'm not stronger than him yet. Physically, I can't take him alone. Not without risking everything."
She looked me in the eyes.
"So when they're focused on me—when their guard is down—I want you two to come in through the back. Through the window."
She glanced over her shoulder toward the far end of the house. "It's still open. I made sure of it."
Luna gave a faint nod.
Astrid hesitated for only a moment, then looked back to me, voice quieter now.
"I know how to break him. His spirit. His pride. And when it happens... he won't get his death on his terms. Not as a warrior. Not as a man."
Her voice darkened.
"He'll die knowing exactly what he did. To me. To you. To everyone."
There was a flash of something in her eyes then—something I had seen in Luna before.
Not madness.
Devotion.
She stepped closer. Just enough to lower her head.
"...Thank you," she said. "For fixing me."
"If you hadn't revealed yourself... if you hadn't turned Berk upside down, I would've stayed broken. Lost. Still clinging to a father who never gave a damn."
"But now?"
She smiled, dark and steady.
"Now I'm free. And I can finally serve you—both of you. And Freya. With my life."
I stared at her in silence.
She wasn't lying.
She meant every word.
And as I looked at her—really looked—I realized how different she'd become. How far she'd fallen from the girl I once knew.
If she had been like this back then... things might've been different.
Maybe I wouldn't have been alone so long.
Maybe we could have—
I stopped that thought.
Turned instead to Luna, who was already watching me with that knowing look.
"If she really does this," I murmured through our link, "we'll have a quite powerful and useful ally."
Luna tilted her head slightly. "You're doubting her?"
"No," I replied. "I'm just wondering how she's planning to break him before she kills him."
We moved then—silent as wind, slipping from the treeline and circling toward the window Astrid had promised.
It was just as she said: unlocked, cracked open, thin curtains drifting with the breeze.
We slid inside without a sound, crouching behind the inner wall, the scent of smoke and old wood curling around us.
That's when we heard it.
The thunder of a man's voice—rough, accusing, furious.
"What the hell is this, Astrid?! Why are you talking like that?! What's gotten into you?!"
His rage shook the house.
But Astrid?
She didn't flinch.
She was standing tall.
And we were just behind the wall, claws ready, blood humming.
Waiting for the moment to strike.
Astrid's Point of View
I stepped through the threshold of the house that forged me.
The hearth still burned.
Warm light flickered across the walls, brushing over broken furniture, cracked frames, and shattered dishes. The room was a ruin—a storm's aftermath frozen in place.
Good.
Because I had been the storm.
The door creaked behind me as I walked in.
The footsteps came quickly—heavy, angry, filled with suspicion.
"Astrid? Where the hell have you been?" my father's voice snarled as he entered the room. "And what happened to this place?! Looks like a damn dragon broke in!"
His eyes scanned the destruction, and I saw it—the faint flicker of fear in his gaze. The first crack in the mask of control he always wore.
I stood still, calm, cold.
Because he was right.
A dragon had broken in.
Me.
Every shattered plate, every overturned table, every mark on the floor—I had done all of it.
And I didn't regret a single scratch.
"I've been out," I said simply.
His eyes narrowed. "Out where? What's wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me?" I asked, softly—mockingly.
Then I lifted my head.
And smiled.
It was the kind of smile that didn't touch the eyes. That curled with cruelty and hatred. That tasted like vengeance on the tongue.
"I'm done playing your daughter."
My mother walked in then, confused. "What are you talking about?"
"No more perfect Valkyrie," I said, voice colder than the north wind. "No more loyal soldier. No more puppet."
"What the hell is this, Astrid?!" my father roared. "Why are you talking like that?! What's gotten into you?!"
His voice boomed like thunder through the house, shaking the wooden beams overhead.
But I didn't flinch.
I stood tall.
And for the first time in my life, I met his eyes without fear.
"You want to know what got into me?" I whispered.
"You did."
He froze.
"You're the reason I became this," I said, each word a dagger. "It was you that did this to me."
I stepped forward.
"And do you remember the night you told me to cut Hiccup out of my life? To forget him? To move on?"
He blinked, caught off guard.
"I stayed up that night," I said, voice shaking now—not from fear, but from rage. "I couldn't sleep. Something felt off."
His eyes darted to my mother, then back to me.
And I saw it.
He remembered.
I gritted my teeth. "I heard you. Through the wall. Talking to Mom. I heard every word."
He paled.
"You said that if I didn't listen to you... if I kept going near him... you'd kill him."
My mother gasped.
"You said you'd slit his throat in front of me. Just to make sure I knew you meant it."
My vision blurred, but I refused to cry.
Not now.
"I loved him," I said, voice trembling with restrained fury. "Even back then. I still do."
I stepped closer. "And because of you, I broke. That night, something inside me snapped."
He opened his mouth, but I kept going.
"I split into two halves. One half became your little Valkyrie. Perfect. Loyal. Silent."
"And the other half... my darker half... my true self—was buried."
I reached toward the broken wall, dragging my fingers across the claw marks scorched into the wood.
"This destruction?" I whispered. "This room? That was the moment I became whole again."
His face twisted in fury. "You ungrateful little—!"
He raised his hand.
And I smiled.
Because before his hand ever reached me—
A blur of black.
A hand gripped his wrist.
Another clamped around his throat.
He wheezed in shock as Hiccup stepped out from the shadows, emerald eyes glowing like twin suns behind a storm.
My mother screamed—but her cry was cut short as Luna appeared beside her, seizing her wrist with a clawed hand of her own.
Neither spoke.
They didn't need to.
Their presence said it all.
Power. Fury. Judgment.
My parents struggled—briefly.
But oxygen faded fast.
And then...
Darkness took them both.
Their bodies collapsed like puppets with their strings cut.
Unconscious.
Defeated.
And for the first time in years, I exhaled.
Because this house?
This cursed place?
Was no longer theirs.