Watching and Waiting

Dropping her new weapon and her pack by a tree, Astrid shouldered her own axe and crept up behind a large rock that was a safe distance from the path into the men's hot spring. She hadn't ever been to the other cove, and she wasn't sure what it looked like, but she definitely didn't want to get caught. She stood up slowly to peek over the side.

And saw...another boulder.

Astrid rolled her eyes, about to give up, but then she froze.

She definitely heard someone. Or something.

She slid around the side of the rock in front of her and crouched in the narrow space between the two. Then she peeked again around the side.

A sliver of the sun cut through the trees and lit the moving water. It looked like molten metal in the forge. She squinted at the light and looked around the perimeter of the spring. It was smaller than her spring, but also looked deeper, given that the men used it, and most of them were taller than the women. Some of them, anyway.

There didn't appear to be anyone there, though. Maybe her imagination was tricking her - or torturing her. Frowning, she stood up - and immediately crouched back down.

Good Gods.

It was Hiccup.

He was sitting on a flat stone by the edge of the spring, just on the other side of the path.

She listened for any indication he had noticed her. When she heard only the spring and the whisper of the trees, she peeked around the side of the boulder again.

He was reclined back onto his arms, his legs extended in front of him. His hair was damp, so clearly he'd already bathed.

What was he doing? Why was he just sitting there?

Hiccup stared at the water. His brow was furrowed and his lips were moving slightly, which usually meant he was trying to figure something out and probably murmuring to himself. That would also explain why he hadn't heard her approach. She could toss rocks into the spring in front of him and he'd still be in his own world.

Why didn't he have a shirt on? Wasn't he cold? He should put on a shirt already.

Hiccup sat up, and Astrid ducked back, but not so far that she couldn't watch what he was doing.

He must have left the axe he made in the clearing on his way to the spring - which would have been a lot of extra walking. Did he hurt himself? Is that why he was sitting there?

The sunlight reflected off the gently churning water and spun across Hiccup's face as he reached for his left leg.

But Astrid missed whatever he did next, because she forgot to blink and a bug flew straight into her eye.

When she'd stopped shuddering in revulsion and removed the bug from her eyelashes - ew - she peeked again. Hiccup was still sitting on the flat stone, still shirtless, leggings on but rolled up past his knees, with his arm curled around his right leg.

Did he need help?

Should she say something?

When had he grown...muscles?

Reminding herself to blink, and telling herself she was only making sure he was ok, Astrid stood and watched as Hiccup picked up a cloth and rubbed it over his left knee, then put it aside to gently feel the skin beneath.

Then he reclined back again, and looked at the sunset.

What was he waiting for?

He wasn't going to… do something she didn't want to see, was he?

Astrid realized she'd never seen so much of Hiccup... without his clothes. Snotlout was infamous for still going out into rainstorms with a bar of soap and little else, and the rest of the boys around their age took some of their cues from him, unfortunately.

Hiccup, though… he never took off his shirt in front of anyone, and never rolled up his leggings, even when it was sticky and hot. Astrid didn't know if it was because he was shy or because he lacked that obnoxious show-off trait that Snotlout had too much of, but the result was the same: she was fascinated by the parts of Hiccup she'd never seen before.

He scratched his chest absently and Astrid had to close her eyes and remind herself swallow. She was forgetting basic life skills the longer she stood there.

This was ridiculous. Whatever in Odin's name Hiccup was doing, it was clear he wasn't in any danger.

And she had to go home and eat.

It was time to leave.

Astrid didn't move.

And neither did Hiccup.

Was he avoiding something? Or someone? He didn't look upset.

He kept checking the edges of his missing leg, feeling the skin, then sitting back.

Astrid watched as the sun moved lower in the sky, the light sliced by the pine trees into bands that moved across the water, each one filling with dancing swirls of steam from the hot spring. It was beautiful - and also completely unfair that the men's spring enjoyed sunlight longer.

Hiccup was watching the water and idly tapping his fingertips on the stone beneath him. He didn't look unhappy or sick or anything. His eyes were unfocused, the way they were when he was deep in thought, but there were no lines on his face that indicated he was in pain. He looked… content.

When had he grown more hair on his body?

Astrid shook her head and told herself again it was time to leave. Time to stand up, grab her things, and head for Berk.

He was clearly dry, and he wasn't...really cold, as far as she could tell.

He should get dressed and get back to Berk, too. She wasn't going to tell him that, but she could have.

One last peek, she told herself, and then home.

She slowly looked around the side of the boulder and saw him putting on his shirt.

Good, she thought, dismissing any disappointment that she was not feeling.

And then she understood what he had been doing.

He wasn't wearing his prosthesis. Astrid could see it on the rock next to Hiccup, now that his shirt was on.

He had been checking the skin that rested in the cup of the prosthesis, and making sure it was fully dry.

It made sense. If she wore boots with damp feet for even an hour, she was certain to get blisters.

She imagined his leg, which held up half his body, would fare much worse if it were damp.

When Astrid saw him begin to position his prosthesis, she realized it was WAY past time to go. He was going to discover her hiding place, and - she refused to think any further in that direction, because it wasn't going to happen.

Astrid crept away as quickly and quietly as possible, grabbed her things, and ran all the way back the Berk.

...

Later that evening in the great hall, Astrid sat with her back to the fire pit so her braid would dry a little faster. She had a charcoal pencil in her hand, sketching new targets that might work better with a weighted axe, and beneath them, additional sketches that weren't targets at all.

The door opened behind her, but she didn't look up. The hall was full of people coming and going at this hour.

But when a hand appeared near the edge of her paper, she put her arm across the page, sat back and looked up, startled.

Hiccup smiled at her, a very small, teasing smile that made his eyes gleam a bit and made her want to poke him with the sharp end of her pencil. Her face must have communicated her thoughts of stabbing, because his smile disappeared, and he rearranged his features into a very serious expression - but it was just as teasing.

She raised a brow.

"Good evening, Astrid," he said.

He grinned again, and then walked away toward the cups and the mead.

Astrid watched him, then looked down at where his hand had been.

A metal ring, a few pine needles clinging to it, now rested on the corner of her paper.

She really was going to kill him.