Crossing the Line | Oakstrid Story

Chapter 1 | At your service

I know I have a lot of unfinished stories but I'm ADD and this is how my brain works, they will get finished eventually I promise that. But hey heres a new story. Hope you enjoy x

Please excuse this it's currently 3am but I had an idea and went with it.

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This is Berk. In a word, dull. At least for me. Every day was the same. Wake up, training, do my chores, more training, go to work, go to bed, do anything my father tells me to do and do it fast. My name is Oakley. Oakley Freya Haddock. It's not my real name, of course. My real name is Hopeless. You heard me. Hopeless Harley Haddock. That's me. Of course, if my parents had known that my brother would have a little twin sister showing up, I would have been called Hiccup, being the smaller of the two of us. You see, it's viking tradition to call the runt of the litter a Hiccup. My brother was incredibly small when he was born, immediately earning him the name. I was smaller. But nobody knew I was coming until I was here and as I got older, I didn't appear to grow all that much. I wasn't expected to make it to my first birthday, earning me the name Hopeless. But, at 7 years old, I couldn't stand it anymore, so my brother and I came up with a new name. Oakley.

Hiccup and I are similar in many ways. Despite my hair being a little lighter, my eyes more turquoise and my face sporting a few more freckles, not only were we almost identical, we were both rather intelligent and creative. But we had our differences too. I had always been the stronger of us two, not that it came easily. I had to work hard to get that strong, especially since at the age of 12 I was still the same size as Berk's most annoying 8 year old and Snotlout's biggest fan, Gustav. But no matter how much I trained or how hard I worked, I would never be good enough for my father, even in comparison to Hiccup.

Hiccup was weak, at least physically, but he was the son, the oldest and the heir to the chief. Me? I was strong and always did what was asked of me, but unfortunately I had inherited the one trait from my mother that my father always despised. I loved dragons. I believed that they were gentle, misunderstood creatures and boy did it drive my father crazy, if he even acknowledged me. Of course, being the only female Haddock left after my mother died was no picnic, which is why I will forever be grateful for Astrid and her mother. The Hofferson's had become my second family and the only people I felt I could really talk to.

"Oakley?!" My father bellowed as I raced to the forge during Berk's latest dragon raid. I rolled my eyes. Perfect. What was I in trouble for this time? I halted in my tracks and spun to him. "Where's your brother?" He hissed. I just pointed behind him at my twin brother who was struggling to keep up. "How many times do I have to tell you two to stick together? Oakley, it's your responsibility to keep your brother safe. I expect you to protect him."

"Yes, sir." I agreed. I had learned that disagreeing with Stoick was more trouble than it was worth. It was easier to do as he said, no matter how tedious.

"Uh, hello I can protect myself." Hiccup chimed in. At that exact moment I lunged at him, knocking him to the ground in order to avoid the sudden flames headed his way, courtesy of the beautiful Nadder that had landed close by.

"Sure, you can." I teased, playfully before dragging him to the safety of the forge. Well, safety is a bit of a stretch. You see I am the clumsiest person in the village and the forge is full of sharp objects, most of which have become my mortal enemies. I could name each of my scars after weapons that uncle Gobber had crafted in that forge. I let Hiccup's arm slip from my grasp as I darted to my desk and started sketching out some new blueprints. I gasped as I heard an explosion close by.

"The armory!" I heard Hoark screech. I quickly grabbed a new piece of parchement and began sketching new plans for the armory. Yes, this was my job, cleaning up after everyone's mess.

"Oakley?!" Stoick bellowed, bursting into the forge to grab a new hammer. "How can Gobber and Hiccup work on our weapons if they are dehydrated. Get them some drinks." He ordered. This was my job also. You see my father didn't often stray from tradition. The men do all the warrior jobs. The girls are merely there to serve the men and be the brains behind their success. So, once again I did as asked and got the boys something to drink. Boy was that a long night.

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