A/N: This was for the tumblr prompt "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified." I had to go with angst for this one. Hiccup and Astrid were kind of together at the end of the first movie and in the first couple of seasons of Dreamworks Dragons, but then go back to being "just friends" for most of Race to the Edge. Based on how hiccstrid was developed canonically, it makes sense that at some point, they might have decided to just be friends, until they became official by the start of the second movie. So going off this headcanon, this drabble takes place shortly before RTTE begins.

Hiccup wiped the sweat off his forehead with the rough sleeve of his tunic. It was long past sundown and he was still in the forge. Even Gobber was long gone, and Hiccup was working alone, fashioning a battle axe. It had an intricate design, with a Gronckle iron double-head and a hollow wooden shaft, the end of which unscrewed to reveal a slim Gronckle iron blade. The head was ready, and he was working on the screw for the blade. After that he just had the engravings left to do. It was going to be a masterpiece of a weapon, beautiful to carry and deadly to wield—just perfect for one Astrid Hofferson, he thought with a soft smile.

Leaning back and stretching, Hiccup yawned. It was one more day's work—which he would probably end up doing at night again—before the axe was ready. He found himself working on it during the nights because he was trying to keep it a surprise, and Astrid sometimes visited him in the forge during the daytime. Although, it occurred to him vaguely, her visits had been less frequent as of late. He gathered his leather armor, which he'd slung over the chair, and blew out the candle to head home.

In bed, Hiccup lay awake, trying to drift off. A certain face, framed by blonde, kept floating to the front of his mind. He could feel unbidden memories of her kisses on his lips. The first time, when she'd thought she'd lost him but he was (mostly) okay; the next time when he thought he'd lost Toothless, and she was comforting him; then at Thawfest when he'd lost but still won in her eyes. Each time, he'd been so stunned that Astrid, Astrid, was kissing him that he'd barely reacted, much less reciprocated. Astrid had more than shown him how she felt. Hiccup decided it was time for him to show her. Turning over and tucking his arm under his pillow, he smiled to himself, thinking ahead to the moment when he'd give her his gift.

Astrid's wandering eyes betrayed her. She was walking straight ahead to the beach to start her chores with some fishing, but her eyes drifted toward the forge as she passed it. Her mind told her not to, but her heart tugged her anyway. Her feet hesitated for a moment before she broke path and went to the forge.

"Well, hello, milady," greeted Hiccup, with a stupidly cute smile.

Why did her skin feel warm whenever he called her that? Or when he smiled that stupid smile?

It's the heat of the forge, she told herself sternly. "Hi, Hiccup. I was passing by. Just thought I'd drop in."

"I'm glad you did!" He seemed a little fidgety. His eyes kept snapping to a drawer in the corner.

"Right. So I'd better get going," she said a bit abruptly. "Gotta catch those fish."

"Oh, okay! Right. See you later, Astrid." He waved awkwardly.

She turned and left, her mind uselessly replaying every shy mannerism and driving her crazy. "This is getting way out of hand," she whispered to herself, anxiously. "This has got to stop."

"Hey, Hiccup." Astrid approached him where he stood on the beach, back to her, silhouetted in the setting sun. He'd asked her to meet him here. He turned around at the sound of her voice, and smiled so genuinely, she was almost breathless. How was this unconventional, un-viking-ly, scrawny boy so damn cute? She felt herself getting bothered again. She took a deep breath to calm herself as he came closer.

She looked amazing just standing there, and he couldn't get over it. Be cool, Hiccup, he told himself.

"Thanks for coming." She smiled and nodded, and he continued. "I've been working on something for a while, and I'd like to show it to you. May I?" He held out his hand to her. She took it and let him lead her down the beach. He let go of her and walked ahead, bending to pick up the completed battle axe. He turned and presented it to her with a flourish.

Grinning, Astrid took it and twirled it in her hand. "It's so light, but it feels so steady." She bounced it a bit in her hand, then held it closer to her face. "The engravings! Hiccup, they're beautiful!" She looked at his handiwork with awe, and Hiccup wished he could capture that look.

She was running her fingers along the markings on the axe. Hiccup reached for it. "There's one more thing." He pointed to the bottom of the handle where the detachable end was well-concealed. Curiously, she unscrewed it to reveal the knife, also decorated in the same style as the axe.

"Oh my gods," was all she said. She held up the thin blade against the waning sunlight and it glinted, catching specks of orange light in her crystal blue eyes. She screwed the knife back in place and was about to hand the axe back to him when he said, softly,

"It's for you."

Her hands froze and her eyes found his face, surprised but otherwise not betraying much. "For me?" Her voice, while a bit softer than usual, didn't reveal much either.

"Yes, milady. Only you could do justice to a weapon this beautiful but deadly." He reached out and ran his fingers along her bare arms, stepping closer as his hands moved from her wrists to her elbows and towards her shoulders. "I thought of you every moment I spent working on it," he whispered. She was staring at him, lips slightly parted, a light but definite blush rising to her cheeks. He was about a head taller than her now, he realized. He lowered his head to kiss her, when she suddenly stepped away from him.

Hiccup felt the beginnings of panic in his stomach. Had he screwed up somehow? Could he have actually misread the situation—misread her—that severely?

"What's wrong?" The concern was evident in his voice, and it confused her even more.

"Hiccup, I don't think—" She shook her head and started again, trying to look him in the eyes this time. "I really appreciate the gift—really it's one of your best works, but I don't know if I should take it." His face was scrunched in confusion. It was that much harder to listen to her mind over her heart when she longed to grab him and kiss all his confusion away, along with her own. But I have to do this, she told herself. "Hiccup, I don't think we should do this."

"This?" he asked in a small voice.

"This...I mean I think we should just be friends."

He nodded. She handed the axe back to him, though a part of her urged her to cherish the gift, and he took it. Looking at her earnestly, he said, "May I ask why?"

Because I think I'm in love with you, and I'm terrified. "I would prefer if you didn't."

He nodded once to acknowledge her, and without a word or angry look, turned and walked away. His reaction tugged at her heart; but she needed time—to think, to understand, to come to terms with her own feelings. Sadly, and feeling as hollow as that axe's handle, she turned and took the long way back home.