As the Sun Sets

My name is Sunset Shimmer. I was born a Unicorn, upper-middle class, living in the Capital of Equestria. As anypony might expect, Canterlot Castle was always the backdrop of my memories. My parents, Silk Sunlight and Dawn Star, always told me I would be destined for greatness. That I would rise above everyone else, and make a name for myself like nopony in Equestria ever had since Princess Celestia herself.

So I pushed myself. I became the Princess’ personal student, her prodige, her rightful heir… or so I convinced myself. In my self-centered hubris, I began to study Dark Magic, telling myself that I would never use it. Only learn it to protect myself from its effects. But I never did, and the Darkness seeped into me, twisted me beyond what I was supposed to be...

So when I found out Celestia had another student. Another prodige… I snapped. I screamed and roared and accused her of replacing me, of denying me my birthright as her successor… and I struck the Princess of Equestria. The guards stormed in. And I ran.

My haste, my idiocy, led me to escape from Celestia’s anger… her help… into another world. Sealed off from my own for thirty moons, for two and a half years, I had turned my anger on the people of the world around me. Earth - a strange, almost funny reflection of my own world, where everyone that existed there had a double here in the form of a creature called a ‘Human’, who lacked any of Equestria’s magic but made up for it with revolutionary technology.

Time passed, and another from Equestria was dragged into my madness - the other student that had driven me away in the first place. My replacement. Twilight Sparkle, now a Princess, came chasing after me when I stole her crown.

Through her actions, I was stopped in my plans to conquer Equestria. I was redeemed in the eyes of Canterlot High’s students. I gained friends, I learned about the magic funnelling through to the Human World, and I studied the portal between our worlds with Princess Twilight Sparkle.

And now... I have no idea where I am.

Princess Twilight was experimenting with different wavelengths in the Mirror Portal. And somehow… I think we broke it. Because when I tried to go back to Canterlot High, to see my friends…

I ended up staring down the wrong end of a wicked hook-hand at the biggest, most terrifying man I’d ever seen.

Stoick the Vast’s Perspective

Second-Person View

Stoick the Vast liked to believe he was a good man, and a better Chief. He put the needs of his Tribe before his own, used his immense strength to bolster and strengthen the people whenever he was needed, and saw to his duties each and every day to ensure there was no waiting until Tomorrow. Because for a Viking, it was generally accepted that there may never be a Tomorrow. After all, Death was just an occupational hazard.

Life in Berk had never been easy. Even back in the days of their ancestors - Bork the Bold; Grimbeard the Ghastly; Hamish the Hulking and his son, Hamish the Hiccup - the simple founding of the Hooligan Tribe had been rife with the dangers of Dragon Raids, something that had persisted throughout the tribe’s history.

As such, it was a general rule of thumb that anything unexplainable or potentially dangerous was to be brought before the Chief - in this case, Stoick himself - and the Council of Berk Elders to be appraised, discussed, and - more often than not - disposed of in as swift a manner as possible.

And so Stoick found himself staring across the great oaken Council Table at the girl that had been brought before him. The Council had answered the summoning horn as swiftly as they could, thank Thor, because Stoick had no idea what to make of the girl in a battle-skirt of silk, soft leather breastplate left open over her torso, and a tunic of such vibrant colour the Hooligan Chief simply had no words for them. And not to mention the glittering crystal around her neck that she had kicked and screamed and bitten Gobber over - the hulking Blacksmith had laughed uproariously over that last act, stating he liked her mettle.

“We should throw her to the sea!” Spitelout cried indignantly, and Stoick cast a look from the girl to his half-brother. The Jorgensons were still regarded as Family to the Chief, despite his precious Valka’s disappearance and assumed death. It was for this reason - and this alone - Stoick hadn’t punched all of Spitelout’s teeth out of his jaw a decade ago. “This girl is an unknown and a danger to the Tribe! For all we know she’s a Beserker spy, or worse, an Outcast!”

Silence met Spitelout’s outburst. Gobber looked up from inspecting his newest wound with a storm on his brow. Silent Sven set down his ale. Stoick chance a look to their ‘guest’ and saw only confusion in her eyes. Seeing this, Stoick leant forward in his large seat - more of a throne, really - and focused his eyes on her. The girl fidgeted uncomfortably in her rope bindings.

“What say you to these claims, Girl?” Stoick asked. He pitched his voice just a tad lower, sending the plates on which the Council’s mutton sat rattling across the table.

The girl flinched once before visibly steeling herself, and Stoick has to give her credit for not faltering under his gaze. Many a Viking has messed his skivvies from Stoick’s famous ‘bad days’.

“My name is Sunset Shimmer,” she began confidently, and faltered again as the whole council turned their eyes to her. Ah, but she was just a lass. “I’m far from home, and I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what you mean by Beserker, or Outcast, so I can’t say if I am one or not without risk of lying to you. I’m sorry.”

Stoick considered her for a moment, and the Council remained as silent as Silent Sven. And then he turned to the only individual more respected than himself on the Isle of Berk.

“Your thoughts, Mother Goethi?” He asked in a tone much gentler than he had used on any other save his beloved. The Mother Goethi was the oldest living relative of Berk, older even than Mildew the Decrepit, and had lived through countless Winters and three Changes of Chief. Her word was law on Berk only superseded by his own, and she often weighed in on the most important decisions for the good of the Tribe if she felt the need. Her shambling approach in response to the Council Horn had set Stoick’s teeth on edge.

Stoick watched as Goethi considered the girl - who had called herself Sunset - for a time from her perch atop the table, legs crossed as she listened and thought. And eventually, she raised her staff, the medicinal bones tangled into its hooked head clattering from the movement. As she began scribbling in a scattered mound of dirt, Gobber scrambled from one end of the table to the other to interpret, as he seemed the only one on all of Berk able to understand the silent healer’s writings.

“Goethi says…” Stoick’s friend began, squinting in the low light. “That the girl is a stranger to more than our lands… and that we should definitely… string’er to an anchor and toss’er off the Flagship-ouch!”

Stoick stared for a time as their esteemed Mother Goethi clattered her staff against Gobber‘s helm, her scowl sending a thousand unspoken curses his way as he moved to re-read her writing.

“Ah, my mistake,” he offered sheepishly as Goethi huffed indignantly. “She says we should definitely not do what I just said, as she is aware Spitelout was going to suggest.” He paused as Stoick’s brother choked on his ale. “And that we should listen to her tale. I’ll admit, the ol’ memory box is a bit leaky. Sorry Goethi.”

As Mother Goethi gave a slow nod to Gobber, Stoick turned back to the lass still tied up before the Council. She’d been made to stand barefoot - her odd leather boots tossed by the fireplace for the time being - with rope binding her wrists and ankles. And so Stoick gave a nod, and Silent Sven stood to make his way to Sunset with knife drawn, grabbing the girl roughly as she tried to back away before slicing her bindings free.

“Oh…” Sunset muttered, rubbing her raw wrists gingerly. “Thank you…”

Silent Sven nodded once, turned, retrieved Sunset’s boots to return them, nodded again, and returned to his seat at the table.

Stoick waited for Sunset to pull her boots back on, glad his beard hid the slight smile as she let out a satisfied sigh. Clearly they were built for comfort rather than combat. “So,” he said eventually, making the lass near jump back out of those boots of hers as she seemed to remember he was there. Very comfortable boots. “Would you care to tell us how you came to appear in the centre of Berk, nearly frightening our dear Gobber into making a mess of his weapons?”

“And me skivvies,” Gobber chimed in, shocking a laugh out of a good few of the Council. “I swear, Stoick, the only time some bairne’s got the drop on me like that it were that Hiccup o’ yers.”

Stoick groaned at the memory. Hiccup, his dear son, was so very… not a Viking. He was small, skinny, avoided fights as much as he could manage and never fought back when he couldn’t. And he was always making a mess. The Thorstons had been crying curses on Hiccup’s name for days after he had frightened Gobber into launching a boulder at their hall.

Of course, that had also introduced Hiccup to the Twins. And may Thor have mercy on them all when Hiccup’s imaginative mind met the Twin’s natural affinity for chaos.

Pulling himself back from his thoughts with a shudder, Stoick turned once again to the girl, and had to admit he was surprised to see her blushing and hiding a laugh behind her hands. Clearing his throat thunderously, Stoick calmed the laughter of the room instantly, calling attention back to himself. “Lass?” he asked leadingly, shooting Sunset a pointed look.

To her credit, Sunset looked adequately culled by his tone, something that made him feel no amount of shame as the laughter the small girl had shown in a moment of comfort was so quickly replaced by a hidden but all-to-clear fear of him. Still, after but a moment to compose herself, Sunset stood tall and cleared her throat before answering his question. A fiery spirit lay dormant in this lass, Stoick could see that clearly, and no amount of hardships could quell that blaze of her passion.

“In regards to your village, I’m unfortunately unaware of where I came from,” she began, pausing only long enough when Spitelout quite audibly scoffed for Stoick to silence his half-brother with a passing gesture. “But how I came to be here is a different story. I suppose you could say I… stepped through a doorway, of a sorts.” She paused again, ducking her gaze and rubbing her chin in a way that left Stoick winded for but a moment as the girl standing before the council suddenly became a young, auburn-haired stick of a boy searching for the right words to explain just why he’d come to accidentally blow up the Svenson’s chicken coop, or burn down the Hofferson’s outhouse, or demolish the village well.

“My friend, Twilight, and I were working on a project of ours that involved a… a doorway, that linked our two homes.” She looked up again, a smile forming on her lips as she began pacing - Stoick had to breath slow to re-start his own heart as more and more this girl appeared so similar to his son. “We live a long way apart, you see, far enough that visiting without this door was a near impossibility. But when I tried to go home through the door, something went wrong, and I… fell right in front of Mister Gobber there.”

“MISTER Gobber, she says!” Gobber roared with laughter, slapping his good knee and pounding the great table with his hook so hard that it groaned. “En’t noone called me MISTER Gobber since I last saw me own bairne!”

“Settle down there Gobber,” Stoick warned, giving a sigh as his old friend just kept laughing to himself, though thankfully he did at least quiet down. Turning to Sunset once again, Stoick leaned heavily on the table. “So you mean to say that your coming to be here was nothing more than a mistake?”

“Yes,” Sunset answered immediately, taking a tentative step forward. When Spitelout reached for his sword, she stopped, glancing from him to Stoick quickly but remaining on task. “I’m sure she’ll be looking for a way to pull me back as soon as she can. Please, just let me stay in your village until she can. I’ll do whatever you want to pay my way - within reason!” she hastened to add, a mild panic in her eyes. Stoick decided he’d question her on that… later, when the rest of the Council were out of earshot.

“Very well then, Sunset Shimmer,” Stoick said calmly, sitting back in his large chair. “I shall now put the motion to Council Vote. All in favor of allowing Sunset Shimmer to pay her stay on Berk until such time as her friend is able to retrieve her, or she is able to make her own way home otherwise, say Aye.”

A chorus of ‘Aye’s met Stoick’s ears, and with a glance, the two silent members of their Council - both Silent Sven and Mother Goethi - gave their own nods of confirmation. Only one Council Member refused to give an answer, Spitelout crossing his arms stubbornly as he glared down his rather large nose at the girl.

“Spitelout?” Stoick ventured, already inwardly preparing himself for another shouting match to break out.

Spitelout remained silent for a time linger before slowly giving a nod. “Aye,” he bit out. “But I don’t like it, and I’ll be keeping an eye on her.”

Stoick sighed, dragging a large, meaty hand down his face before nodding himself. “Fair enough,” he allowed. “I’ll see to it that the girl’s not left to her own devices for anything more than bathing and sleeping. For now, Sunset, I’ll have you sleep in my hall - Thor only knows there’s plenty of space. Council adjourned.”

And with that, ten Vikings stood from the table, taking up the knives they had placed upon its surface upon arriving, and made their way out of the Great Hall. Stoick remained seated, watching as Sunset first shrank away from, then smiled to, each Council member as they passed, seemingly pushing herself to appear less nervous and fearful than she was. Stoick couldn’t suppress a chuckle as Mother Goethi stopped at the girl’s side, taking her hand and patting it soothingly with a smile before moving on.

As the last Viking left the hall - Silent Sven gave him a wave as he left, pulling the heavy door behind him - Stoick let his eyes fall completely on Sunset. His Council Knife still sat embedded in the table’s center, signifying his position as the Head. Sunset looked up at him timidly, playing with a strand of her striking crimson-and-gold hair, and Stoick simply watched her for a time before grabbing the knife in his big meaty fist and pulling it free without a second’s struggle.

Sunset watched him as he stood and moved around the table, taking the longest path of any other Council Member as he sat in the direct center from either end. As he trudged down the stone steps leading to the Council Table itself, he watched her face, and she seemed to just now be realising just how big he was. And as he came to stand before her, dwarfing the girl easily, he gave a smile.

“Come now, lass,” he offered softly, placing one of his gigantic hands on her tiny shoulder. “Let’s get ye somewhere you can rest. My hall’s the largest on Berk, save the Great Hall itself, so I’m sure we can find you somewhere private to claim for your own.”

Sunset nodded, relaxing slightly at Stoick’s softer tones, before her face turned an embarrassed scarlet as her stomach gave an angry growl. Stoick blinked at her in shock for a moment before bursting out with a thunderous guffaw of laughter.

“An’ we’ll get some food in yer belly too, aye?” he added with a much larger smile, chest still shaking with suppressed mirth. Sunset gave another nod, smiling back even as her face burned red.