Hiccup's Point of View
The silence that followed their collapse wasn't peaceful.
It was heavy.
Stifling.
But not for Astrid.
She stood over them, chest rising with quiet, controlled breaths. Her eyes were colder than I'd ever seen them. Focused. Steeled.
This wasn't the Astrid Berk thought they knew.
This was something darker.
Something I understood all too well.
"What now?" I asked simply.
Astrid didn't hesitate.
"We break him."
Her voice was calm. Calculated. She already had it planned out.
"All I need to do is kill my mother first," she said. "But not without a show. First, I'm going to make her turn on my father by revealing the secrets I've kept hidden for quite some time now."
She knelt beside her unconscious mother and brushed a bit of hair from the woman's face—slowly, like it disgusted her to even touch her.
"I have dirt on him. Enough that the last expression she'll ever wear is hatred. She'll curse the man she stood beside all these years."
Her lips curled into a cruel smile.
"And then I cut her head off."
She turned toward the body of her father.
"That'll break him."
"But not enough," she added, eyes narrowing. "He's proud. Too proud. If I just fight and kill him, he'll die with satisfaction—because he'll believe he earned an honorable death."
"And that means Valhalla."
She spat on the ground.
"No. He doesn't get that."
I nodded. "So what do you propose?"
"I either kill him while he's chained and helpless... or show him something that completely shatters his view of humanity. Of life. Something that breaks him in a way he can't recover from."
She looked down, frustrated.
"But I don't know what that would be."
Beside me, Luna's eyes flickered.
We exchanged a glance.
And we both knew.
I stepped forward.
"We might have something," I said.
Astrid looked up sharply.
"But if we show you... if you breathe a word of this to anyone—anyone—I will personally rip your spine from your body."
Luna stepped closer, her tone just as serious. "Even Freya won't be able to save you."
Astrid swallowed—and nodded immediately. "Understood. I swear it. On my life. On my blood. On my loyalty to you both."
I studied her for a long moment.
Then I nodded.
Luna took my hand.
And together, we shifted.
It was slow.
Deliberate.
Controlled.
Claws elongated, glimmering with faint trails of firelight. Horns curled from our heads, sharp and regal. Scales spread like armor across our skin. Our eyes burned with emerald fury, brighter than any torch.
We were no longer just human.
No longer just dragon.
We were both.
Astrid gasped.
She stumbled back, nearly tripping over her mother's unconscious body as she stared up at us like she'd seen the gods themselves descend.
Her mouth opened. Closed.
Opened again.
Then she made the strangest noise—half squeal, half whimper—and dropped to her knees.
"Oh my gods," she breathed. "You're..."
Her cheeks turned red.
She stared at us, practically vibrating.
"You're beautiful. You're terrifying and—you're so hot!"
Her eyes flicked from Luna to me.
Back to Luna.
Then to me again.
She started rubbing her thighs together.
Her breath hitched.
I could practically hear her thoughts spiraling into some very unholy territory.
Luna cleared her throat, eyes narrowing with amusement.
I sighed.
"Astrid," I said flatly.
She blinked rapidly.
"Earth to Astrid."
She snapped out of it like she'd been slapped. "Right! Sorry! Yes—yes, that'll work! That'll absolutely work!"
She stood again, trying and failing to look composed.
I turned to Luna, who still looked like she was fighting a smirk.
"At least she's honest," I muttered.
She shrugged. "She's not wrong."
I rolled my eyes, but the plan was in motion now.
Astrid would handle the first act.
And when her father woke, confused and angry, he'd see betrayal burn in his wife's eyes.
And when his daughter struck the final blow...
He'd be broken.
But what would truly shatter him?
Was seeing the world no longer belonged to men like him.
That dragons and monsters walked among them.
That the son of Stoick the Vast had become something else entirely.
And that nothing—not honor, not legacy, not blood—would save him now.
We didn't rush.
This was art.
Luna stood to the side while I sat on the only furniture that was not destroyed by Astrid completion. I really want to see how this plays out and how their blood runs and paints the floor with the color of blood.
We weren't hiding anymore.
We were death.
Astrid had not removed her eyes since we had shifted in all honesty I liked this new personality of hers.
Though I have to be honest with myself being in this world has really changed me...Well whatever is not like I care much and I don't care for human insects who are not worthy of living so why should I even think of such bothersome things. I kill if I want and I am not going to lie to myself I grown to love the sensation of death and having blood in my claws.
I was snapped out of my thought as I heard it.
The Chains rattled. Breath returned. First her father groaned. Then her mother whimpered like the pathetic creature she'd always been.
And when they saw us—truly saw us—
Her father screamed.
"What in Hel—what are you?! DEMONS?! You've allied with demons, Astrid?!"
His eyes locked on me—on the horns, the fangs, the shadowed wings twitching behind Luna's shoulders.
"YOU BROUGHT MONSTERS INTO THIS HOUSE!"
Luna tilted her head and smiled, revealing elongated canines.
Astrid didn't blink.
"I brought justice into this house."
Her father thrashed against the chains. "You lunatic! You've sided with beasts! You'll damn us all!"
"No," she said coldly. "Just you."
She turned to her mother—who was already sobbing, half-aware and trying to make sense of the carnage she'd woken into.
"We're starting with you," Astrid said.
Her voice was ice. Not a scream. Not rage.
Just a death sentence.
Her mother whimpered. "Astrid, please—what are you doing—"
"I'm ending it," Astrid hissed. "You stood by for everything. The bruises. The cuts. The screams. You told me it was discipline."
Her mother sobbed. "I didn't know—!"
"You didn't look."
Astrid leaned in. Her words were venom.
"Did you know he cheated on you? Countless times? Came home reeking of another woman's sweat—and you let him crawl back into your bed?"
"You're lying—!"
Astrid smiled.
"No. I'm telling you the truth."
Her mother looked to her husband—who said nothing.
Because he knew.
"Would you like to hear the best part?" Astrid asked sweetly.
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"He told another woman he'd slit your throat just to be free."
The room fell silent.
Astrid stood, drawing her axe.
"I'll grant him his wish."
"No—no—please—Astrid, please—!"
The blade came down in a clean, heavy swing.
Crack.
Her mother's head rolled across the floor, mouth still parted in disbelief.
Blood sprayed like a fountain. Hot. Glistening.
Astrid didn't flinch.
Her father screamed. He howled.
And Luna—grinning like the demon he thought she was—walked over and shoved Astrid into my lap.
The blood on her clothes soaked into mine.
Her thighs settled across mine like a throne.
She was panting. Smiling.
Wild.
My hands caught her instinctively—and for a heartbeat, I held her like she belonged there.
And maybe...
Maybe she did.
I inhaled slowly, claws twitching against her waist.
Mine.
Not in the way Luna was. Not bonded. Not destined.
But something burned.
She looked up at me, whispering, "Thank you..."
Luna just smirked, her dragon eyes glowing.
She'd planned this.
I snapped out of it—barely—and helped Astrid to her feet.
She stepped forward, red-stained and reborn, her eyes burning like coals.
Her father was breathing hard, veins bulging, sweat soaking through his tunic.
"This is all your fault," she told him.
He spat blood. "You think this makes you powerful? Binding me like a pig? Killing your own mother?! You're sick!"
"No," Astrid said, voice soft and sharp. "I'm finally sane."
She pulled out a dagger—slender, curved.
He sneered. "Kill me. Go ahead. I'll die with a warrior's pride just free me and fight me to the death. I'll meet my ancestors in Valhalla and spit on your name."
She smiled.
Then slashed his hamstrings.
He screamed, bucking and thrashing like an animal.
"You are Not standing," she murmured. "You are Not fighting."
Then she nailed him to the floor with two swift stabs through his palms.
His voice cracked as he shrieked.
I felt the rush ripple through me like flame.
Admiration.
Possession.
Pride.
She turned to me.
"May I?"
I gave her a single nod.
"End him."
She walked behind him, leaned down, and whispered in his ear.
"I was your daughter."
"I wanted to be."
"But you made me a monster."
"You should have known monsters don't obey."
Then she raised her axe—and brought it down.
Crack.
His spine shattered. His body twitched violently once.
Then slumped.
Dead.
Astrid stood tall, blood dripping from her chin.
Luna stepped to my side, her expression nothing but pleased satisfaction.
And I?
I bowed my head.
Not for him.
Not for her mother.
But for the girl who had walked into her own past, and burned it to ash.
Because Astrid Hofferson had died tonight.
And something glorious took her place.