Hello readers! If you've seen me in the Minecraft fanfiction archive with my new story, The Tale of Drake, then you must be wondering why the heck am I trying to write two stories at once. Check my history of finishing stories, and you'l' flinch.

Anyways, I love HiccupxOC stories. No idea why, but I swear I've read every one on the site. And now, I shall contribute my share! So wish me luck, and have a great time reading! Nothing makes me happier than people telling me that my writing is enjoyable. Oh, and review. Review review review. Reviewing makes me feel guilty that I'm procrastinating, and makes me write. So do it for our mutual benefit. I have done a crapload of research into Viking culture and family structure/names, so see if makes sense please.

Disclaimer: I don't own HTTYD. In case you didn't know that already. Dreamworks, don't sue me please. I can dream, can't I though? :P

Chaos was in the air in Berk that night. Battle cries and the clanging of metal filled the air in one massive roar. One that young Birla Skallagrinsson was used to. Tonight, yet another raid by dragons was occurring, and the small girl was as alert as anyone.

Birla Skall, as most people shortened her family's last name, was a tiny thirteen year old girl who lived in the Western Tower. For as long as anyone could remember, as long as Berk had existed, her family had manned the catapult on the tower, and called it home as well. Birla was a sixth generation Skall, and had two siblings, her older sister Finna and younger brother Ulfr. Their parents, Bera and Egill were upstairs loading and firing off their catapult at the swarm of dragons over the main section of Berk. By tradition, the Skalls were always strong, burly, stereotypical Vikings. Also by tradition, the family had only two children to carry on the family name. Obviously, that had changed, and all because of Birla. The first child of Bera and Egill Skall, Finna, had perfectly lived up to the family name. Now at sixteen years old, she had no interest in Dragon Training or anything like that. She was big and bulky, and perfect for her current role: Hauling large rocks up the staircase and to the roof of the tower to the catapult, where her parents aimed and fire them from the war machine.

Birla's job was fitting to her attributes; she stood halfway between the catapult tower and the main village of Berk, and listened for orders from Stoic The Vast as to where they should be concentrating their fire, and which areas needed help from the flying stones hurled from the tower. When the orders came, Birla would sprint back to her home and pass the word. Since her voice was as tiny as her body, Birla's shouts to the top of the tower from the ground were easily drowned out by the roar of the ongoing battle. To fix these problem, Birla had rigged up a pulley system to convey slips of paper up to the roof from the doorway. It was the least she could do - the Skalls had tried everything else for her to do, but she had a found a niche, uncomfortable but viable, as a messenger runner for the family.

Her younger brother, Ulfr Skall existed pretty much because of her. More specifically, he existed because of what she had become. A smart but weak and puny girl would never do as an operator for the catapult, as countless generations had done before her. Therefore, one more child was in order and Ulfr, despite being nine years old and four years younger than Birla, was already much stronger than the girl.

The Skall family was pitied for the shrimp of a daughter they had, but nobody really minded Birla. True, she was weaker than most toddlers in Berk, but she made up for that in honest enthusiasm with trying to help out whenever she could. It was expected that she would grow up to be a bread-baker or something, since she was a decent cook under her mom's loving instruction. For that matter, Birla's family was supportive of her. They understood her place in society, and left it that. Other than the occasional ribbing by Finna or Ulfr, Birla had a pretty good personal life.

Friends was what she lacked. The long-haired brunette was looked down upon by almost all of her peers. Not really bullied, more excluded. She didn't really know Hiccup, son of the village chief Stoic, but by the stories and occasional sightings she was glad he was in Berk if only to provide a better target for the biggest Berk teens. There were maybe fifty teens around Birla's age in Berk, but it was the bug, strong ones that were destined to dominate. More commonly known as the fire brigade. For whatever reasons, it was those children that were going into Dragon Training to be active warriors and shieldmaidens. Birla didn't really envy them like so many of her peers; she was well aware that Dragon Training would be about the equivalent of a death sentence for her. So, friends were something she always wanted, but probably would never have. Even the bread-making kids and fishing teens avoided her. It was seen as bad form to be seen hanging out with Birla. Not worthy of being insulted and actively shunned, but Birla had long accepted people would never really look upon her as an equal.

Her life could be better, but it certainly could be worse. Birla knew the family business of shooting rocks at dragons from the top of the erstwhile house would be ably carried on by Finna and Ulfr, so she actually had the fairly unique position of being able to go about almost choosing what profession she would grow up to be. Now, that was something that didn't happen every day. Or year. Or generation, occasionally. Most Viking children belonged to families that knew exactly what they were going to be, and made no attempt to do otherwise. Just one thing bugged her constantly.

As Viking children were generally named, Finna and Ulfr both owed their names to great heroes of Berk's past. Birla…was different. She took her name from her mother, Bera, who's name meant Bear. That title was rather appropriate, as she was stronger and bigger than some of the men in Berk, coming from a lifetime of hauling rocks around and winding back the arm of a catapult. The name Birla was a derivative of Bera, and meant Little Bear. Yeah, she wasn't exactly proud of it, but at least her parents had enough sense to not name her something really stupid like "Fishlegs", or "Hiccup". Birla really had no idea where those names came from.

As Birla nudged the door open just enough to slip through – thankfully, very little as she could barely move the door – she breathed in the familiar scent of burning wood. The Skall's tower/home was a major exception to the rule that every house in Berk was new. Rienforced over generations by successive layers of rock and mortar, the tower had taken a Night Fury hit once and emerged barely damaged. It was generally acknowledged that the Skall tower was the safest building in Berk.

Birla ran out towards the focal point of the fighting that night, the lower docks. She was forced to run around in the open most of the time so that Stoic's subordinates could yell to her where her family should shoot. She'd never actually had Stoic directly talk to her, and nor did she want him to. The red-bearded giant terrified her. A few seconds after running into the town center of Berk, Spitelout spotted her and motioned her over.

"Listen lass, Stoic wants all catapults to concentrate their fire over the lower docks, got it?" he ordered without preamble, roaring at the top his lungs in an effort to be heard over the noise around them.

Birla just nodded, not even trying to speak. It would be futile, and Spitelout just grinned at her before raising his sword and charging at the nearest dragon, yelling a ferocious war-cry.

She sprinted back over the rough dirt road to her house. Just then, a whistling sound was heard a split-second before an already burning and abandoned catapult tower in the middle of the village exploded in a brutal flash of ghostly, fleeting blue flame.

"Night Fury!" an anonymous Viking screamed, as if everyone didn't know.

"Get down!" another man yelled, but everyone was already following the advice prescribed in the Dragon Manual and were diving for the nearest cover.

Birla just kept running. The destroyed tower was located like in the opposite side of the village, and she was nearly home. A second later, yet another tower exploded and burst apart, showering practically the entire village in burning debris. Birla was still running when she noticed a figure pushing what appeared to be thin handcart towards her. When the figure didn't slow down or go around her, Birla guessed he or she had failed to notice her figure running in the shadows of various houses. Not hard to do, really. Birla dove out of the way at the last second, and for a moment she saw the face of the person lock eye contact with her; messily-cut red hair, emerald green eyes, a skinny, scrawny figure…

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. Well, then, that was a surprise. He was the town reject, and it was rumored he messed up and/or destroyed everything he touched. Birla didn't exactly believe the stories, but she hadn't really had a chance to say anything anyways, as she watched his rapidly receding form running away. She picked herself up off the ground, dusted her rough shirt off, and completed the trek to her house. If anyone her age in Berk was nearly as weak and small as her, it had to be Hiccup, she thought whimsically.

She pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket, and quickly wrote down what Spitelout had said before dropping it in the pulley basket and yanking on the rope. Any normal Viking her age would have been able to pull the rope with their teeth, but Birla tugged at it as hard as she could and watched in quiet satisfaction as the message made its way up to her parents. A minute later, the catapult was rotated and fired at the lower docks, where the large rock narrowly missed a dive-bombing Deadly Nadder, causing the beast to veer off its path and miss grabbing a herd of fat sheep.

Birla paused a moment to catch her breath. Technically, she should be sprinting back to Berk Village to catch the next set of orders, but seeing the number dragons attacking the lower docks, she figured they'd be occupied for a long time. She casually leaned back against the doorway, taking in the sight of the battle. She loved little moments like this.

Noticing something out of the corner of her eye, she turned her head. A figure was standing on Fishgut Cliff, behind some sort of odd contraption, probably one of those "Bola Launchers" of his. Rolling her eyes, she realized that meant it was Hiccup from earlier. While he might not be Loki incarnate like some people believed, she knew firsthand what those machines of his could do.

She ducked behind a barrel that held what could have been some sort of cloth, and cautiously peered out. Well, it hadn't misfired yet. That was encouraging.

Birla flinched as a shadow streaked over her, heading out to sea, faster than she dreamed a dragon could travel. The dark shadow was still in sight. Hiccup must have noticed, as he swiveled the launcher around. Birla's eyes widened as she saw a massive silhouette stomp its way towards him from behind. A Monstrous Nightmare. Crap.

Hiccup finally noticed it at the last second, but not before he fired the launcher. Instantly, a spinning bola was hurled at a breathtaking speed, perfectly straight and true. It was breathtaking to behold. Why, even she, Birla Skall, weakest Viking to ever live could use one of those things! Unfortunately, Hiccup must have flinched right before he fired the launcher because the bola missed the rapidly receding shadow seemingly by an inch. Hiccup began to panic at the sight of the huge dragon, losing his initial excitement from the successful firing of the launcher. Incredibly, the dragon's first shot missed the unlucky teen as he ran . . . right down the road in front of her tower.

In a spur of the moment decision, Birla screamed as loud as she could to him, "In here! Now!"

Birla was shocked at the strength of her own voice. Usually, it was as quiet as a mouse. Perhaps more so. But Hiccup obviously at least noticed her voice if not her words, and angled for the door. Above her, Birla could hear her parents and siblings shouting as they noticed the Monstrous Nightmare barreling towards them out of nowhere.

Right then, something stereotypically Hiccup happened - he tripped. Simply fell down maybe twenty feet away from the tower. Birla, before she could fully comprehend what she was doing, ran out to help him up.

"Birla!" Finna called from above.

Hiccup was groaning and grasping at his ankle, which looked beaten-up by the fall. Birla was about to ask if he was ok, but a roar interrupted her. Both teenagers looked up to see the Monstrous Nightmare in their faces, green gas collecting at the back of its throat in preparation to burn them to a crisp. Before it could do so, or the teens could do anything besides widen their eyes in terror, a huge rock flew into the dragon and knocked it away. Birla could hear the cheers of her family in the tower behind them, and she made a mental note to put some serious time into the post-battle meal that night. Before the dragon could recover, none other than Stoic the Vast leapt out and smashed the dragon's head with his trusty battle hammer, sending it reeling into an unoccupied shed. A few other Vikings ran over and secured the Monstrous Nightmare in a tangle of nets.

"That's it!" Stoic yelled, encouraging his men, "This one's for the champion of Dragon Training!"

A voice interrupted her silent celebration at her small role in the capture of the mighty beast. "Who are you?" Hiccup asked.

She glanced at him. "Birla Skallagrinsson. Heard of me?" she asked sarcastically, back to her normal, mousy, voice.

"I'm sure you've heard of me." Hiccup said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, who hasn't?"

Meh, awkward ending, but whatever. Please review and tell me what you think, remember that each review is the equivalent of you walking into my house and kicking me in the butt. In short, it gets me back to work. It helps throw my concentration back to the writing. Between balancing this story and The Tale of Drake... this could get interesting.

Anyways, R&R, and have a great day!

Tally-ho!