As the Sun Sets

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III was not what someone might call the typical example of a Viking. He was a rather small boy at best, thin where others his age had already bulked out one way or another, and with very little hidden strengths that could often be seen in a promising young Viking. His deep brown hair was tinted red at the edges by the lye soap used most often on Berk, and stood out against the usual blacks or blondes kept by most Vikings.

There were only two things about Hiccup that the boy could say might pass as extraordinary. The first was his striking green eyes, a collage of shades from grassy knolls to glittering emeralds that - as he’d been told - sparkled every time his mind got to work.

And that was the other thing. Hiccup’s brain didn’t work like a ‘normal’ Viking might think. When faced with a problem, for example, Hiccup didn’t first see how it stood up to a sword, followed by an axe, then - if all else failed - a mace. No, Hiccup preferred to think his problems through.

It was one of such problems that had seen the Berk Heir sat in his loft-bedroom in the large and spacious Haddock Hall that afternoon, instead of out at the Forge with Gobber. The old smith had shouted through the doors for Hiccup to close up and go home for the evening, and Hiccup wasn’t about to complain at a chance to have the Hall to himself for a few hours.

The central hearth had a roaring fire before he’d even shucked his boots, and Hiccup now sat at the edge of his bedchamber balcony, bared feet dangling off the edge as he stretched and wiggled his toes in the direction of the warm fire. A block of wood sat on his lap, upon which Hiccup scribbled away at a piece of parchment with his charcoal, precise drawings and lines of runes detailing something only his active mind could conjure up.

‘If I could just find a way to compensate for the torque of the bolas…’ Hiccup thought to himself, gnawing thoughtfully on the wooden holding-side of his writing tool. ‘I’ll show Snotlout who throws as far as Mildew…’

A scowl crossed Hiccup’s features as that particular thought reminded him of his truly awful cousin. Snotlout was his mother’s brother’s son, making him the next-in-line for Chief if anything ever happened to Hiccup and his father never had another Heir. Which the whole village knew would never happen. “He saw Valhalla in your mother’s eyes,” Droplaug Ingermann had said one day as she watched over him and his friend, her own child Fishlegs.

There was a pleasant train of thought. Hiccup hadn’t spoken to Fishlegs in a few weeks, but the larger boy was just as smart as Hiccup himself, he was sure. The only difference came in what those smarts applied to. While Hiccup could come up with the most intricate and unfathomable machines and contraptions, Fishlegs had the uncanny ability to understand most any maps and writings put in front of him within moments. And while foreign language studies weren’t exactly the most sought after career on Berk, Fishlegs was a born cartographer, and the ability to navigate a ship in Berk was as good as being given a chest of gold at birth.

Hiccup sighed as he wrenched his thoughts back to the designs in his lap, staring at them again. “It just can’t be pulled so tight as it is…” he muttered, once again chewing on the writing tool in his hand. “Maybe if I coat it in crushed pine needles and resin…”

No sooner had Hiccup noted the thought down did the young Haddock leap clear across his bedchamber, writing tool clattering against the wall at one end as the block he’d been leaning on bounced off his bed at the other. The gust of wind that followed the Hall’s main door being slammed open with such casual force that it could only be Hiccup’s father had the fire flickering and struggling to remain lit, sending chills and shadows dancing around the house.

“...’course, I cann’e offer TOO much privacy,” Hiccup’s father’s voice said as it carried up the stairs to his room, piquing Hiccup’s interest despite the fright that still clung to him. Despite himself, Hiccup found it impossible to keep from crawling back to the edge of his own floor and peeking over.

Now, Hiccup was no stranger to the fairer sex. A Viking’s way of life left very little privacy even for the Chief’s family - it was hardly strange to see one or two of Berk’s womenfolk strutting down to the rivers as bare as the day they’d come into the world on Wash Day, with the men huddled in the Great Hall drinking mead or eating mutton. Some men even found joys in challenging one another to see who could withstand Berk’s cold for the longest whilst starkers. And because of this lifestyle they held, Hiccup had seen many of the villagefolk in the buff - far more than he might have liked, but no less than any other Viking on Berk.

But this person his father had brought to their Hall, this… girl… she took Hiccup’s breath away in a manner he’d felt with only one other. One look at her crimson hair - not red-tinged or auburn that Berk’s lye soaps left many of their village with, but honest to goodness bright crimson red hair, interspersed with streaks of golden yellow fairer than the freshest grains of wheat. Her skin - well, the torchlight often left a tinge of red on a person’s skin, but no torchlight Hiccup had ever seen cast a person that particular shade of yellow unless they stood at Helheim’s door waiting for entry. And yet this girl seemed perfectly healthy, practically glowing in the light of the hall as she stepped in behind his father and struggled to shove the door shut behind her. His father absently reached back and slammed the portal with a single, gigantic hand.

Her clothes caused Hiccup a moment’s hesitation. He knew Berk clothes. As unmanly as it was for a Viking, Hiccup even knew what it was to make and repair them, as the task fell to him as soon as he was old enough for it after his mother’s fate. And nothing this girl wore came even close to ‘proper’ Viking garb. Her leathers were soft, her underclothes thin, her battle skirt lacked any spikes or bones to speak of. A breath of relief escaped her rosy lips as Hiccup watched her shivering form slide ever so slightly closer to the fire.

“There ‘ain’t many o’ us in this Hall,” his father continued, rolling his great shoulders as his fur cloak found itself draped across a chair facing the fire. “Jus’ me an’ my lad - and don’ you be makin’ any eyes at him!”

Hiccup had to bit his tongue to hold back the snappy line that fought it's way up his throat. How could his father say that! But then, a mere moment later, Stoick the Vast - O Hear His Name And Tremble, Ug Ug - burst out with a great, booming laughter. A quick glance at their guest’s beet-red face told him why.

“I-I wouldn’t dream of it, Sir,” she stammered in a voice unlike any Hiccup had ever heard. “Like I said before, I don’t plan on staying long if I can help it, and making any lasting ties would… complicate my plans to leave.”

Hiccup blinked. So she was a traveller. That made sense, he supposed, considering her exotic appearance and the fact that he’d never seen her around before. Really, he was shocked he hadn’t thought of it before.

“Now then,” Hiccups father boomed, once again startling Hiccup from his thoughts. “Let’s get you a cot to sleep in, then I’ll have Hiccup give ye the grand tour o’ Berk.” He paused, scratching his beard, and Hiccup felt his heart rate rise as he realised what was coming and scrambled to try and preempt it.

“Now where is that boy…” Stoick muttered at the volume most Vikings spoke in casual conversation. Hiccup grabbed two wads of furs he kept to hand and fisted them over his ears.

It didn’t help much.

“HICCUUUUUUUPPP!!!!!”

Pausing just long enough for the ringing in his ears to die down a smidgeon - which still left his brain rattling from the noise - Hiccup stumbled to the top of the thick, oak-log steps that lead from the Hall’s primary room to his sectioned off bedchamber.

“Yeah dad?” Hiccup asked, shaking his head and trying to dislodge what felt like a screaming Nanodragon from his ear.

“Hiccup m’boyo, this is Sunrise Shiner. She’ll be stayin’ wi’ us fer a wee while.” Stoick slapped a great, meaty hand on Sunset’s shoulder, causing the girl to buckle and stumble under the unexpected force.

Sunset glanced up at him with a nervous smile. “A-actually sir, it's’ Sunset Shimmer,” she corrected.

Stoick stared down at her for a moment before nodding to himself, as though reminding himself. “Aye, so it is. My apologies lass, I’ll remember it soon, ye’ll see.” He gave her a truly massive smile, Sunset could tell at once he was being 100% sincere. “Anyway!” the great chief continued. “I do have work tah get back te, so I’ll leave you in Hiccup’s hands. Son, Sunset’ll need a brief tour of the island and some help figuring out where tah help out, an’ she’ll need somewhere wi’ a bit o’ privacy teh bed down. Can I trust ye wi’ that?”

Hiccup swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, blinked the tears from his eyes, and beamed proudly. His father had come to him for a job that sounded very important! “Yes sir!” he assured, beating his chest with a fist - and internally wincing at the bruise he knew he’d just caused himself.

Stoick simply nodded, content. He then nodded politely to Sunset before turning back to the front door and stepping back out into the freezing Berkian winds.

Sunset winced as the door slammed shut once again. “He must be really strong…” she mused quietly. “Even AJ can’t slam a door that hard…”

Hiccup managed a chuckle at that. “Yeah, that’d be Stoick the Vast for you,” he said. Sunset frowned as she heard what felt like a mixture of emotions in Hiccup’s voice, both Pride and… Anxiety? “Strongest Chief Berk’s ever known. Y'know he once took down a Monstrous Nightmare with his bare hands? Squeezed it's neck and popped the head right off.”

Sunset’s mind raced at a mile a minute. What was that mix of emotions in Hiccup’s voice for? What was a Monstrous Nightmare? Was it dangerous? And why did Stoick need to kill it? Was it hard to kill? Was the Chief really that strong?

She was snapped out of her thoughts as Hiccup waved his hand in front of her eyes. “Uh, you alright there?” he asked in concern. “You do look a little… yellow, maybe Goethi should take a look at you?”

“Uh… no, I’ll be fine,” Sunset assured him, smiling. “This is… normal, where I come from.”

Hiccup stared at her incredulously for a moment, and Sunset felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of her neck. Before she could decipher whether it was from her nervousness or from the roaring fire behind her, Hiccup broke into a wide grin and began berating her with questions.

“You’re from another land!? Wow, that’s amazing, where is it? Are you from the North? No, it gets much colder when you go north - you must be a Southern Islander! I didn’t think they had clothes like yours, Dad’s stories always spoke of light furs and loincloths-“

Sunset cut in when it looked like Hiccup might pass out from lack of oxygen. “Hiccup, breathe!” she shouted, momentarily reminded of Twilight in one of her ‘lecture mode’ tirades. “To answer your questions, I am from another land, but I… don’t know exactly where it is right now.”

Hiccup blinked for a moment before smiling g in understanding. “A drifter, eh?” he asked. “Not to worry, we get those every now and then. Trader Johann says he’s from a land where the sands stretch for days, but he’s been in the Archipelago for so long he doesn’t even remember which way his homeland is anymore.”

Sunset nodded along, mentally taking notes. “So, um… not to be rude, but…” she began, shuffling slightly.

Hiccup slapped a hand to his forehead. “Right, of course!” he cried. “Okay, what would you like to do first, settle in or go on a tour?”

Sunset considered for a moment. “Probably best to get somewhere to rest ready, right?” She offered. “A tour can always wait.”

Hiccup nodded resolutely, turning and marching further into the hall. Sunset hurried to keep up, surprised at the speed the small, wiry boy demonstrated.

“Dad’s room’s in the back,” Hiccup said, motioning to a curtained-off section of the hall. “I tend to sleep upstairs in the loft. There’s a space under the stairs we could turn into a bed space for you?”

Sunset glanced to the sizeable staircase of thick, wooden logs, then to the space underneath that was easily the size of her bedroom back home. “That’d work,” she offered, though internally she was marvelling at the size of the hall. From everything she’d read of Vikings back home, they lived in somewhat cramped homes of upwards of ten people at a time - but all this was just for two?

Her head whipped around as she heard Hiccup chuckling. “It pays to be the chief,” he said simply, having picked up on her thoughts. “I’ll get some supplies from Gobber to give you a proper room while we’re out. You gonna be okay in the cold?”

Sunset thought back to the biting winds she’d walked through for no more than five minutes before feeling like her legs were going to fall off. Glancing down at herself, she bit her lip in uncertainty.

“We can drop by the Ingermann’s and ask Droplaug if she has any clothes for you, if you want,” Hiccup offered.

Sunset could only nod, blushing slightly. Here she was, in a brand new world, and once again she had to scrounge for the basic commodities just like before. Only this time, even if she was willing to steal for them, she felt like she might not survive long if she did.

Hiccup nodded resolutely. “Come on then,” he said, quickly moving to the fire and moving a metal grill in front of the roaring flames. “Dad laughed when I made this, but he loves it now,” he chuckled proudly. “Keeps the fire going safely if we have to step out. No more burning down the hall to keep our toes warm!”

Sunset couldn’t help but laugh. She really tried, but it just burst out of her at Hiccup’s goofy grin. “Come on then,” she said with a smile. “I’m going to need my super-smart guide so I don’t get lost.”

She didn’t notice Hiccup’s blush as she moved to haul the massive door open again, struggling with both hands where Stoick has effortlessly done so with one.

Gobber the Belch let out a great, rumbling iteration of his namesake as he set his flagon down with his good hand. There truly was nothing like a warm pint of ale to fight off the Berkian chill.

Of course, the forge helped. And as he stepped back up to the roaring blaze and pulled another near-molten ingot out with his prosthetic hand - the regular ‘hand’ swapped out for a set of iron tongs - he couldn’t help but think back over the day as he hammered out a rhythm on the slab of iron.

He’d seen a lot in his travels around the world - done a lot. He’d met all kinds of interesting people and killed even more. But never had he seen anyone like that Sunset girl.

While he maintained an air of jolly ignorance to the world, Gobber was quite clever. You had to be, as a Viking, to live as long as he had, even if he had left a few pieces behind. And never had a person had Sunset’s skin that wasn’t taken by plague or jaundice.

But the girl seemed perfectly healthy, seemingly just as ready to run an Island Sprint as Astrid was to swing an axe. Gobber idly wondered what kind of weapon the girl might favour. Maybe a nice hammer? Gobber liked hammers.

The aging blacksmith was pulled from his thoughts by a familiar voice calling from the front of the store. Glancing at the metal he’d been working, he shrugged - he’d flattened the ingot enough. Spitelout’s sword could wait.

“Gobber!”

“Hold yer sheep lad, I’m comic’!” Gobber shouted back, setting the metal aside before turning and trudging towards the front of the smithy. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face when Hiccup came into view - the lad was practically his nephew, with how close Gobber was with Stoick. He’d decided early on to love the lad like his own.

“Hiccup m’lad, what brings you back ‘ere!?” Gobber roared, giving Hiccup his biggest grin. The lad smiled back, ducking quickly as Gobber reached to ruffle his mousy hair. “Gettin’ quicker lad, we’ll make a Viking out a’ ye yet! I thought I gave you the day off?”

Hiccup laughed before stepping aside, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. Gobber followed the direction until his eyes fell on Sunset, arms wrapped around herself tightly as she shivered enough to shake the island.

“Dad asked me to show Sunset around,” Hiccup explained. “I was hoping to pick up a few things to set her up a bedspace. Some nails and a hammer!”

Gobber stared at Sunset for a moment longer before nodding. “Ah’ll bring some lumber an’ furs te yer hall,” he offered, making sure his tone garnered no questioning. “Jus’ tell me where an’ I’ll put the lass’ room up in no time.”

Hiccup gave him a thankful smile. “Thanks Gobber. We’re going to set it up under the stairs in the hall, I’ll come give you a hand one we’ve done everything we need to.”

Gobber couldn’t resist, not when the chance was waved under his nose like a tankard of ale. “Ye’ll wanna keep yer hands as long as ye can lad, trus’ me on that one!”

The look on Hiccup’s face was priceless, the lad’s rosy cheeks paling faster than an eel slipped out of a hole in a net. The red soon returned with a vengeance as Gobber let out the biggest belly laugh he had in at least a week.

“That’s not funny Gobber!”

“Aye, it were lad! Yer face!”

Hiccup heaved a great sigh and shook his head wearily. “I should be used to this by now,” he muttered, before a chuckle escaped him. “Good one Gobber, you got me.”

Gobber could only beam at him. “That I did!” he declared, before motioning over Hiccup’s shoulder to Sunset. “Now why don’t you stop bein’ a pig and bring the lass inside te warm herself up, eh? She’s freezin’ ta death over there!”

Gobber watched as Hiccup turned to Sunset, instantly fretting over her. “What!? Sunset, why didn’t you say anything? Come on, the forge will warm you up.”

“I-I’m f-f-f-f-finnnnnne,” Sunset stammered through her chattering teeth, though she offered no resistance as Hiccup walked her out of the winds and into the forge, pulling up a stool for her to sit on.

Gobber watched curiously as the two began chatting between themselves, seeming to forget about him almost instantly. He had to wonder what was going through Hiccup’s mind with this girl - this admittedly very pretty girl, who looked around Hiccup’s age, who was now going to be sleeping in Hiccup’s hall for the forseeable future. Gobber knew Hiccup had always been sweet on the Hofferson lass, Astrid, but with Sunset around and seemingly being very friendly towards him? Thor only knew.

Gobber could only hope his not-quite-nephew wouldn’t get his young heart broken if he was sweet on the girl. Or that they wouldn’t lose their Heir when Sunset eventually went home, should he decide to go with her.

Pushing those thoughts from his mind, Gobber closed up shop for the second time that day and set about his new tasks. He had a chest of nails already that he threw in a cart out front of his shop. Hiccup would bring a hammer with him, and Gobber still had his hammer-hand on. All he needed was a good bit of lumber.