Hiccup might have had an attention span of a sparrow. He might forget or find himself distracted when his father was going on about duty, or Gobber was telling a long and likely falsified tale, when Fishlegs rambled off statistics, and just plain tuned out the boasts of Tuffnut and brags of Snotlout—but nature was what he listened to.

Nature told him—he considered, smelling an unpleasant scent and realized it was his own sweat and body odor—Nature told him, it was time for a bath.

He stood at the edge of the water, and peeled off his damp tunic. The fire of the forge had been burning hot, and Hiccup had been at it most of the day. Ores were smelted into workable metal, and then Hiccup had crafted a few new broadswords for upcoming ceremonies.

He folded his tunic and set it on a rock, deftly untying the laces at the crux of his breeches with a content sigh because he was reminded that his own wedding would be in less than a week, rendering his attention more short than usual. Astrid could always do that to him no matter what—break into his mind with those placid eyes and swinging hips. After everything, she must have known that she could. He hopped a bit while tugging his remaining leg out of his breeches. He ended up falling and not without a yelp. His balance had gone to Hel—he looked down to that metal prosthetic with disdain. He took it off too, because water would only make it rust.

There was an odd sensation he always loved, what with damp chilled air at his back and a warmer, moister steam at his front as he edged into the hot spring. It was thick with white tendrils, idly rising from the liquid, the water seemed to glow bubble and sparkle the purest form of crystal blue.

It was a bright evening, the aurora borealis blazed across the midnight sky—a whole tapestry of woven magenta and blue-green that dazzled the eye.

Maybe if people were as interesting as nature he would pay more attention.

Hiccup settled into the hot spring, making slight hisses as he went deeper because of the engulfing heat. He spread water under his arms, scrubbed those places that needed scrubbed to be clean again. Rustling out the dirt and smoke and char that hugged close to his skin and hairfrom the forge. He could hear the night crickets sing one of their last symphonies before the turn of the season. It was a mild night, had been a warm day—but those were few and every viking made the most of them. Being in the water was fun though hard to keep afloat if too deep since he only had one foot to kick with and propel himself. He had to remain in the shallows of the spring for the most part.

Toothless usually joined him for watery fun, splashed him and even dried him by flapping his wings but Hiccup had been so caught up with his work that Toothless had fallen asleep in wait, hanging up-side-down on a branch outside the forge like some bat. Instead of waking him, the russet-haired Viking gave the dragon a slight push so as he walked away the Night Fury rocked back and forth pleasantly.

He sat back against the edge of the pool, letting the heat tickle and simmer across his submerged skin. It caused him to shiver a bit having half of him under and half above at the conflicting temperatures. He closed his eyes and smiled, imagining that just in a few days he would be wed, and have everything he had wanted. Love, friendship, dragons, approval—and then he would be chief. His eyes snapped open, forgetting that part momentarily. Once wed he would ascend to his father's position as head of the tribe. That itch of self-doubt crawled into his mind, nervous—apprehensive. It was all hard to swallow too.

Was he getting cold feet?
No! His feet were quite hot!

Because of the hot springsr…

His ears perked at a peculiar sound, a bubbly sound—more bubbly than then the natural bubbles poppling every couple seconds. It was rapid, and it was—he looked to where he heard it—it was louder. He saw a pile of bubbles advancing as if it were a big fish or creature, but nothing could stand to live in the heat of the hot spring!

He scooted away from the bubbles, making his way toward the entry point of the springs but then the bubbles burst. A splash of hot water sprayed at him and he looked on in astonishment as a watery nymph appeared from the under the surface with a broad smile and slick soaked skin.

"You really have the attention span of a sparrow," she said, taking her long blonde hair and wringing it of the hot spring water.

"Astrid?"

She paused and considered him but ended up belting out a laugh of good humor at his surprise, "I was taking a late night bathe too. I guess great minds think alike?"

"Apparently," Hiccup gave a smile and swallowed, realizing his mouth had gone dry. He wasn't meaning to, but his eyes had rolled onto her chest and hadn't quite left.

They were completely naked. Together. In a hot spring. Alone.

His mind dizzied with the possibilities that only a young male could conjure in mind.

He hadn't seen much of Astrid lately because she had been preparing for the nuptials. She had to hunt down a sacrifice for the gods, she had to be told the ways of women and secrets of wives or whatever the ladies told her. She wasn't in the clear even yet, the actual day of the wedding, she probably would be hassled by well-wishers and advice-givers to the point she would accidentally axe someone. Hiccup made a mental note to warn her parents to hide that axe.

"So um…how have you been?"

"Alright I guess. You?"

He inwardly scoffed at the way they acted, so casual—as if it were an everyday conversation and not two nudes, inches away and a few days before they would be husband and wife witnessed by Odin himself.

"I'm great!" his voice cracked. He really wanted to just—grab her. After everything, he couldn't get enough of holding her and making sure it was all real.

But Astrid never let anything happen to her without her permission.

She must have been taunting him. And what a coincidence that she was 'bathing' the same late hour as he. Her mother wouldn't have let her go gallivanting out in the dark so close to her wedding. He became suspicious.

"I bet your mother doesn't know you are out."

"What are you? My father?" She scoffed and lowered herself into the water.

"You snuck out!"

"I'm eighteen, I can do what I please!"

"You followed me!"

Now she raised a brow at him, challenging, "Oh is that what you think?"

"That is exactly what I think. Coincidences like this just don't happen…why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you follow me?"

"Look who is finally paying attention!" she diverted his question.

"Why?"

Hiccup was adamant.

"But, obviously not enough attention to figure it out," she teased under a frown and let the water current carry her away but he reached out and grabbed her hand, and pulled her back to him. Their torsos collided and he could feel her tense before melting against him.

He thought about it. If she had wanted to see him, she could have at any point that day while he was in the forge but now they were…just them, naked. He couldn't forget that. Gods, was it really that simple of an answer?

"Because…you wanted to be alone with me?"

There was a pause and the only sounds were of nature. Bubbling water, crickets, and low howls of creatures far off in the forest.

"Yeah," she let out a slow breath and buried her face into his neck, "just one last time before…"

He felt his heart take an amused rise, his body in turn took the more excited route, at knowing what she wanted. It was hard to read girls but he was getting better at the book of Astrid. He gave a soft laugh and set his chin on the top of her head, "Okay."

With that, threaded between the steam and spring, the young husband-to-be received a rather satisfying preview to his marriage soon to come.

A/N: This was a suggestive one shot based on Shimy/Bintavivi's Hot Spring Pictures on Deviant Art, it also can be slipped in between my other stories 'Second Chances' and 'Newlyweds' if one cares about timelines. If anyone has wondered where I have been, I have been posting lots and lots of HTTYD art and writing bits for my next HTTYD installment :D

HTTYD copyright Dreamworks Animation/Ms. Cressida Cowell