Hiccup slumped his shoulders in defeat and walked back to the kiln. He studied the banked fire for several moments before retreating to a workbench on the wall.
“I thought you were tending the charcoal,” Astrid asked interrupting Hiccup?
“I check on it ever few minute to make sure it’s not getting too much air. Untended too much air can ruin an entire batch,” Hiccup replied out of experience. “I have learned the hard way over the years. I’ve been sharpening tools while I have been waiting.
Astrid nodded in response half-listening. “Turn around and face the wall.” She cut off his protest; it will only take a moment.
When his back was turn she shrugged off her leather vest and placed it on the bench. She then unbuttoned her wool tunic and placed it to the side. She then bit her lip and began untying her leather breast band (strophium). Her nipples immediately hardened in air, while she took two steps to a wall peg and grabbed Hiccups tunic. She then quickly pulled the tunic over her head. She took a second to rub her small breast where the leather band had cut into her skin.
Her heavy wool skirt was still wet but she was still annoyed with Hiccup and decided she would keep it on. “You can turn around now.”
Hiccup had been listening to the various sounds with growing curiosity and hopeful wishing. He turned around and was mildly disappointed.
Astrid had to fight the urge to laugh when she saw his expression. “Do you mind hanging my clothes up?”
Hiccup dutifully hung the wet clothes up. He did pause a moment and blush when he notice the leather breast band before hanging it up as well. “Don’t forget the charcoal,” Astrid added helpfully.
Hiccup diverted his attention from the piece of leather and what it meant to check on charcoal. He studied the smoldering pile for a moment before slowly adding a shovel of sand to an area that needed attention. He then turned to Astrid who made a point of ignoring him.
He went back to his workbench and returned to sharpening a set of chisels.
Astrid watched the scene and a smile crossed her face. Hiccup was never going to be a traditional Viking and she could accept that. But she did enjoy watching him at the forge. Blacksmithing was a traditional male Viking art and at this he did excel. He watched as his small callused hands would glide the file over a chisel. He normal self-conscious disappears as he focused on his craft.
She sat on the bench watching him work. She felt all of Hiccup’s best qualities were reflected when he worked his art. His attention to detail, his imagination, his dedication to doing it right, and his skilled hands. She sat quietly in the dimly lit room watching the muscles in his back moving under the skin. He would occasionally check the charcoal.
He had finished the chisels and was not engraving an axe head. She was watching this and suddenly realized her nipples had grown painfully hard. She then realized her crotch was wet. She moved her hips and her linen underwear rubbed gently against her clit.
She debated leaving and going home so she could finish. But another wet march through the snow had little appeal. It wasn’t like Hiccup was paying attention so she slid her right hand under the shirt hem and slowly rubbed a swollen nipple.
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Fri Sep 03 00:38:40 2010