Disclaimer: I don't own How To Train Your Dragon or any of the associated characters or settings.
She was thirteen and he was fourteen. She didn't talk to him anymore, not that she ever had at any great length in the past. He was small and weak and foolish. He still tried to do weapons training even though there were toddlers who could do more than he could. It didn't make sense to her, really. He made weapons. He should be able to lift them, use them, master them. It was as though he was lacking something fundamentally Viking in his heart.
He kept trying to be something he wasn't and that annoyed her.
He was so persistent and his tenacity annoyed her.
He was so clever and his innovation annoyed her.
He wore his emotions on his face so openly and that annoyed her.
He gave up so easily and that annoyed her.
But what annoyed her more than anything was how much she noticed him.
The scar on his chin, faint and fine, that had been there for as long as she could remember. The freckles that dotted his nose. The lopsided way that he smiled. The stubborn set of his eyebrows when he decided that he was going to do something regardless of his ability. The way he stared off at nothing when he was coming up with an idea. The way he moved his small body – deceptively agile despite everything against him. The gracious way he accepted defeat.
What annoyed her more than anything was the fact that she noticed him at all.