Forgiveness; the re-write

Prologue

YOOOO who's ready to get into the sequel?!

I'm very very excited to actually finish the book this time! In the original Forgiveness book, I never finished it as everything started to get very conveluded with Season 6's release and the Dagur x Mala thing.

However, the year is now 2022 and I have made a lot of changes to the story to help it go smoother!

Can we also take a little bit of time to appreciate how GORGEOUS Dagur looks in the cover art that I drew?? I am so proud ;-;

Also, there will indeed be SMUT CHAPTERS IN THIS BOOK!!!

So let's get into it.

"Mealtime, maggots!"

The prison guard announced as bread was thrown into the small cluster of cells on his sides. He didn't care whether it was caught by the prisoners or left to fall on the floor. They'd eat it anyway.

Only when he reached that cell, did he steady his hand and actually throw the item in with some care. He knew what was coming but walked away as nonchalantly as when he'd approached.

"Hey- That's not the regular food! Why does he always get special treatment?!" The prisoner opposite that cell shouted to the guard, who pretended not to hear and kept walking. He grumbled about his fellow prisoner, mentioning his status as the Berserker Chief as he rolled his eyes.

Big mistake.

"Oh, hey, you want some? C'mere, I'll give you a bite." His fellow prisoner spoke with a light tone. A change to how he usually spoke, if at all apart from threatening other guards and inmates. His red hair, that used to be long and braided, was cut short and sheared messily on the sides in a madness filled rage he'd flown into, when another inmate had mentioned Hiccup and his Nightfury. His scar crossing his right eye and cheek that split his eyebrow like a lightning strike was a result of his fight with a guard a few nights after his imprisonment. He'd heard that someone had mentioned the name Y/N.

His name, the Inmate knew for a fact, was Dagur. He had been the Chief of the Berserkers and sent them to war against the Hooligan tribe of Berk. From what the other inmates knew, he was just as his title had described, "Deranged".

But he wasn't going to pass up the chance of free food, especially coming from a chief.

So, he stuck his hand out towards the small roll of leather. Which was then grabbed in a fierce hold around his wrist.

Dagur pulled the other inmate's arm to smash his head against the bars of the cell door, knocking him out cold. He laughed quietly to himself, turning the key in the lock to his cage and opening the door.

For a second, he wondered if he could just walk out of the prison without having to knock anyone out considering how the guards hadn't turned to him yet. But that would be no fun.

He cleared his throat, grinning widely as they turned to look at him. They gasped, clutching their large clubs high and running towards him.

"Prisoner escaping!!! All guards to corridor C!!!" One announced loudly. Good, Dagur liked a challenge.

He hadn't lost it in the 3 years he'd been imprisoned, beating the snot out of every guard that ran up to him and making his way quickly to the entrance, where the front guard cowered before him. He was truly a sight to behold after his stay in Outcast Prison. His arms were now bulging with muscles gained by constant working out in preparation for this day, a thick beard had grown in and he had names tattooed down his left arm.

"No! Dagur, don't! I'm the one who gave you the key!" The guard begged on his knees as Dagur approached. He cocked his head, the familiar feeling of pride welling up inside him as he'd brought his first person to their knees in 3 years.

"But that would make you a traitor..." He gave a dangerous smile as he raised his stolen club. "And I hatetraitors." He swung, a satisfying but grisly thunk sounding from the contact.

Dagur gave an excited giggle, pushing the doors open to the outside world with an explosive force. As he gazed at his men at the docks with the ship ready for him, he pictured you in his mind. In his ideal world, you would've been waiting there for him, arms open wide and tears in your eyes as you rush to him. You'd cry about how much you missed him, how you'd forgiven him and how you would love to become the new queen of the Berserkers.

But you weren't there. You hadn't been there in months. 3 times you'd visited in the past 3 years. 3 times he'd seen a slightly older, slightly more mature and slightly sadder version of you when you looked at him.

"Only a matter of time now, my love..."

Dagur rubbed the braided lock of hair that was wrapped tightly around his wrist.

He sneered as your face was overshadowed by Hiccup and Toothless.

"It's a new day, Hiccup..."

A cackle sounded into the night.

You shot up from your bed with a gasp.

What a strange dream...