Work Text:
Nope. Nope, and – nope. Everything she can think of is an absolutely not, Hiccup doesn't need them or already has them or wouldn't want them, anyway. He isn't one for weapons, and the only things she has here that he doesn't have a duplicate of is just that – dozens and dozens of weapons that aren't even Hiccup's thing in the first place, and Astrid is well at her wits end and not a child enough to cry, but her frustration has her climbing walls.
“Ohhh, hey, Astrid.”
She grits her teeth and hisses with sheer frustration at the approaching footsteps.
“Not now, Fishlegs!’ She feels bad for snapping the moment the words left her mouth, but she can’t take it back, and she’s too worn, pacing the length of her hut again and again and again, feet sore and nerves more high-strung than their last face-off with Viggo. She doesn’t mean to yell at him, and she swears she’s been trying so hard not to be the same self-centered, warrior-driven girl she was when her and Hiccup first became friends, if only because he deserves someone better than that in his life.
“Look, unless this has to do with Hiccup's betrothal gift, the one I haven't gotten him yet, the one I have no clue where to start…” a panicked, terrified little huff slips free and she goes back to pacing, too uncomfortable to ask for help and then whirling back to face him, because, with all they’ve faced together, if there’s anyone who she can ask for help and won’t think she’s weak for it or maybe she just doesn’t care if he thinks she’s weak, it’s Fishlegs. “I have no idea what to get him!”
No, she’s not going to cry, but she must look something ridiculous, if she’s anything as wild and terrified as she feels. Fighting Viggo or dragon hunters or even the Screaming Death, or even the volcano not so long ago weren’t half as nerve-wracking as this – the thing that’ll start the entire next part of her life.
“Well, he’s Hiccup,” Fishlegs offers shyly, “I’m sure he’ll appreciate anything you get him.”
“Ugh!” she yells into her palms, nerve-wracked, and wheels away. “That’s the problem! He’ll like anything I could give him, but he’s Hiccup – he’s the perfect Viking, he has – anything material that he could possibly want! He has Toothless, he’s the future Chief of Berk, he’s got a sword that sets itself on fire and his own pair of wings, there’s nothing I can get him that he doesn’t already have!”
“That’s why I came here,” Fishlegs says, shyly, and Astrid has to huff out a bit of her panicked frustration – he’s so sincere and so sweet, she’d take help from anyone right now.
And it’s him or the twins.
And she’s too frazzled to so much as look at them, even if they were able to offer helpful advice. What she wouldn’t take to have Heather here for advice.
“Look, I can help,” Fishlegs offers with a tentative smile. “Okay? Who knows Hiccup better than I do?”
She lets out a little exhausted huff. Fishlegs, who was friends with Hiccup from the time they were kids, who was never awful to him even when Astrid spent her entire childhood belittling or outright bullying him.
That Hiccup, who she didn’t waste a shred of care on for fifteen years.
Fishlegs, who has his own half numerical language he and Hiccup talk in, because that’s just. Their thing, something Astrid could ever understand.
Fishlegs knows him better than she ever could.
And so does Toothless, obviously, the dragon who loved him when Astrid never did, the dragon who looks out for him when Astrid can’t, who watches his back and Hiccup flies, because he and Toothless are physically connected as much as they love each other, with a sort of intimacy even she couldn’t have – because even if her and Hiccup love each other, even if they do marry someday, they won’t literally become one being.
“Do you want me to ask Toothless?” she asks, frustrated, throwing her hands in the air, gritting her teeth frustratedly and blinking at ridiculously hot tears.
“Right,” Fishlegs says, “Toothless knows him better than anyone. But, I was thinking…”
“This kind of needs to be a me gift, Fishlegs?”
“Good point.” He sighs, looks away, and then grips her shoulder with a gentle hand and guides her to the bench. “What if we sit down and talk about some ideas?”
“Sure,” Astrid sighs, dejected, “Can’t make anything worse than it already is.”
“Well… you and I both know that Hiccup loves a great, fresh jar of ink a lot more than the next person, and what better place is there to get some than the Northern Markets?”
***
Toothless is circling his rider, doing a little of his own part to keep Hiccup distracted. Astrid doesn’t know if he knows somehow, but she saw him come up to Stormfly and then Fishlegs when they weren’t worrying about Hiccup and Snotlout’s disappearance, and she’s felt the pair of green eyes following her all over, so he must know something.
But when Hiccup gets the bag she’d been dreading from his dragon’s back and walks towards her, she’s really out of excuses.
“You need to stand right here and take this,” he tells her seriously, pulling a necklace from the bag.
It was his mother’s before, Hiccup tells her, and she knows what that means to him, and what this must mean to Stoick himself, even if he’s nowhere near to watch it happen.
“You’re a part of our family. You always have been and I hope you always will be,” Hiccup tells her with the sweetest smile, but even if her heart is fluttering she just… sad. Hiccup must’ve seen her face, and immediately starts rambling. “Okay. If you don't like it –”
“Hiccup, it’s beautiful,” she cuts him off quickly, “It’s perfect, it’s just… the only thing I got was this.”
She pulls her own bag off Stormfly. “It’s just a bunch of ink, in its purest form, or something, and I didn’t even think of it on my own, it’s not even that special. It’s not even that –”
Hiccup still looks completely alight. Oh, Astrid this, this is amazing!”
Okay, geek mode fully engaged.
“And I couldn’t even think of it myself,” she says quietly.
It was Fishlegs’ idea, he’d seen the thing and insisted Hiccup would love it, and she got it, not even necessarily with their engagement in mind, just because she knew he’d love it.
“Astrid, it’s fine. I swear.” He takes her hand, fingers wrapping over hers with the same gentle softness Hiccup’s touch always shares. “Look, you already got me the greatest gift in the world. You, You, just being here with me. It’s the best gift I could have.”
Hiccup hugs her, and Astrid sinks into his embrace, so gentle and unfailingly compassionate and loyal and loving, everything no normal Viking could ever share.
Fishlegs smiles and offers a thumbs up to her behind Hiccup’s back. Astrid smiles back.
“And, hey,” Hiccup adds with a chuckle, “This sounds crazy, but Snotlout helped me out, too. It was his idea to make it a necklace, all I had was the pendant.”
Astrid glances to where the boy is running wild in the sands next to the twins, and for as crazy and maddening asl this family might be, it’s her family, and she couldn’t be more grateful that they’re the ones here.
Snotlout’s not even gloating, he’s giving them space where they need alone-time, and it’s probably one of the sweetest things he’s ever done.
Turns out, the thing she got Hiccup, despite being a little iffy, is actually really cool, and when Fishlegs comes to steal her and ask if she’s okay, Hiccup sets down next to Toothless and starts up his newest drawing.
It’s Toothless and Stormfly, about as detailed and intricate as all of his drawings are, even if the color shading makes it take a bit longer.
Astrid gets the picture framed in something glass just to make sure it’s not damaged or destroyed.
Whenever they get their own house, or if she moves in with Hiccup, they’re keeping that on the wall, no question.
Toothless coos happily and goes to snuggle his rider.
“I think that went pretty well,” Fishlegs offers.
Astrid blows out a breath, happy even if she’s still terribly under-satisfied with herself, but offers her probably-best friend a smile anyway. “Yep, I guess it did.”