DISCLAIMER: I still don't own Cats, or the computer I typed this chapter up on.

Chapter 1

The queen looked down upon her children, silently thanking the Everlasting Cat that she could hold them in her arms at last. It had been a long wait for both her and her mate, since she was announced to be with child until this moment. Long hours sat together discussing the possibilities of genders the kittens could be, and thoughts of naming them were mentioned regularly. Now sitting with the kits in her gentle embrace she could finally take in their tiny forms. The first, a beautiful silver striped tabby-like kit. She saw in him her mate in his youth, his grey coat before it became wild and untamed. The second looked almost nothing like the eldest; he was white with black spots covering him. Though she could not tell for sure yet, she was certain he would have her eyes and most defiantly her class. She turned to the youngest, who once again looked nothing like his elder siblings. He was a mixture of both parents; his coat resembled his mothers from the glossy black of his fur to the small tuft of mane protruding from his chest. His face was as she remembered of her mate when they were younger and his headfur had a small curl at the front, the ladies tom certainly. She was uncertain as to where in either's heritage the leopard spots had come from, but they added character to his already marvellous posture.

Her mate tore away from the crowd of chattering cats, each congratulating him on account of his new children, and joined her beside the bed. He looked down at her, hazel eyes glowing with joy, then at his children. She knew he was also contemplating all the similarities the kits held to their parents, as well as how different they seemed as brothers. He grinned and his gaze back towards his mate.

"What shall we call them, my dear Bella?" he asked quietly. She had expected this question, and had already begun to think of names for the kittens.

"For the eldest, I think Munkustrap should suffice," she said, her mate nodded beckoning for her to continue. "For the second, Alonzo. And for the youngest, Rum Tum Tugger shall be his name." She finished with a flourishing grin to all her offspring, before turning to her mate.

"Rum Tum Tugger?" he puzzled over his youngest sons name. "A little big for such a small kitten, do you not think Bella?"

She frowned slightly and looked down at the small tom, "Well perhaps just Tugger for short?" she asked hopefully.

He contemplated this for a moment before smiling kindly at his mate. "Very well Bella, as you wish."

The queens smiled gratefully. "Thank you Deuteronomy." She said as he turned away.

"Let all cats hear this; on this night, I Old Deuteronomy and my mate Grizabella have been given three sons. Their names are as follows; Munkustrap, Alonzo and Rum Tum Tugger." At this the cat surrounding the den danced and cheered for joy. Some ran off to tell others of the news, many stayed to get a peak of the new kittens. All celebrated that night of the new life these kittens would be to lead.

On the other side of the streets of London, in the almost silent roads of St James' street, a cat who was not of skin and bones mourned the death of his partner. The queen, so fragile and gentle to begin with, had taken ill before labour and died with the newborns in her arms. He knelt beside the deceased queen and wept, silently. He felt like cursing the Everlasting Cat for bringing an end to a queen's life that had barely even begun. Far too young an age to die, the tom thought.

The stirring of newborns caught his eye. He looked at them, almost loathing the fact that they had lived, while his mate lay dead. Almost. He took them carefully from the departed queens grasp and inspected them closely. The two eldest had been born at exactly the same time, which had caused the queen much unnecessary pain. Both were identical in fur patterns, their grey coloured coat mixing in with splodges of silver, brown and the odd spot of gold. One small difference he noticed was a faint wavy line on the queen-kit's cheek. That was how he would be able to tell them apart. The youngest was mainly black with a bright white face, which could be seen even in the midnight darkness. His chest, legs and tip of his tail were a slightly greyer colour of white, but made him look very distinguished. Like his father.

"What to name you?" he asked himself. He took another sweeping glance over the young bundles of fur, before standing and walking out from his home. "I, Bustopher Jones and my late mate Alana," he choked on his words, and shook his head before continuing. "Announce the birth of three kittens, and their names are as thus; Coricopat, Tantomile and Quaxo." The cats, who had known him as a friend and neighbour, congratulated him on the birth of the kittens and consolidated him on the death of Alana. He showed no emotion to them and uttered nothing, but a word of thanks. After a while he quietly left their presence and sought solitude for himself and his kittens.

By the docks named after Queen Victoria, a struggle ensued. Two cats, recent parents of a set of twins, were being forced away by a nearby tribe. The group which was leading them from the birthplace was a tribe mourning still for the death of their leader. Convinced that he had died by means that were not natural, they had sought out the pirate couple who had already been accused for murder several times over. The cats had found them in an alleyway near the dock where, unbeknownst to them, the queen had given birth mere minutes before. The two were dragged away for questioning and, should they be found guilty, would never see their kittens again.

An old nurse queen who had came along with the party, should the pirates have turned violent, heard a small yowl as she turned to follow her tribe home. She took a sharp turn to look once more down the alley, squinting through the darkness to see what had made the noise. She shook her head deciding it was her imagination and was about to rejoin the tribe when the noise sounded again. Clearer this time. She moved over to where it seemed to be coming from and was shocked to find a pair of newborn kittens hidden underneath a plank of wood. She gasped and immediately scooped up the crying kittens and lulled them back to sleep. She smiled slightly at their sleeping forms, so small and vulnerable they had now been left without parents. That was not their own fault. As she was beginning to wonder if the young cats had yet been given names she jumped when a tall black cat came up behind her.

"Ramon you scared me," she said calming down again.

"I do apologise Sonila," he said quietly, as he looked at the kittens in her arms. "Who do these belong to?" he asked pointing to them.

"I think they belong to the pirates," Ramon sniffed indignantly, glaring at the kits. "It's not their fault you father was killed sir, do not take you anger out on the innocent."

Ramon nodded, "You're right Sonila. What shall we do with them?"

"Perhaps we should give them a name and somewhere to grow?" she asked cautiously. The tom stared at the kittens with a blank expression, considering her request.

"You may name them, but they shall have no place among our tribe. We do not need any more threats," Ramon said coldly. The queen nodded and did not try to contradict him, the tom moved away from her to the entrance of the alley. "Once you have named them we shall take them to a neighbouring tribe and there they shall stay."

The queen looked down at the kittens. One was slightly longer than the other, so she guessed it was older. The first was a black coloured queen with golden-ginger tiger stripes along her back and legs. She looked like her father, what she had seen of him. The younger of the two, was a stumpy white coated tom with light ginger stripes along his back and face and brown tufts of fur along his chest. A mixture of his Persian mother and his Maine coon father. She thought of many names but settled on two names that reminded her of the sea Leomaris, meaning sea lion, for the tom and Maristela, meaning star of the sea, for the queen. She whispered their new names to the wind and walked over to Ramon, who led them away without speaking or looking back.

In the centre of London, in a quiet backstreet of Piccadilly, a queen lay breathless as she held her tiny kittens close. She was alone with no other cats in the surroundings of the famous street, after going through a painful labour and birth. The queen regained her breath as she looked up and down the street to make sure she was alone before bursting into tears. She hadn't meant to get pregnant, especially with a tom that was not her own mate. Once he had heard the story of how she had become impregnated, he had left her, thinking her nothing more than a selfish whore. She had then been shunned by the tribe, who had also gone with her ex-mates views and thought nothing more of her or her *bastard kittens. She had left for fear they may turn against her and the young kittens once they were born, and had lived for the past month alone on the streets of Piccadilly and Pall Mall.

She calmed down, eventually, and looked over her newborns taking in their beautiful coats and features. The first was a deep red queen, shade of copper and gold streaked through her fur, making her stand out among the siblings. Surprisingly she looked nothing like the father, and nor did the second kit. This one was slightly smaller than her older twin; she was black also with streaks of copper and gold through her glossy fur. She then began to search for names for her young children, she turned down many perfectly suitable and original names before settling on two names she thought best suited them.

"My dears, there may be no audience to accept you into this world, but I Raquel shall acknowledge your existence. I name you Bombalurina and Demeter." She smiled at the kittens as she spoke the names aloud. But she knew her own joy wouldn't last. The tribe would hear of the birth of the kittens and might try to hunt them down and force them away from her. She needed to find a sanctuary for them, a place they could live without fear. She had heard of a tribe that lived in a junkyard near Hyde Park. So that's where she headed.

Not so far away in an attic room high above Tottenham Court road, a pair of cats was stood beside the window staring out, not hearing the cries of their children from the other side of the attic. The two hissed as a loud yowl came from one of the younglings, the tom threw a glare to the queen and she went over to silence them. The litter fell silent and the queen returned to her mate by the window and once again stared out on the road below. They sat in silence for a while, both pondering on what they should do with the children, for they couldn't stay with them. It wasn't the fact they cared for the wellbeing of the infants, it was because they would only get in the way of their operations. They were the most famous cat burglars of the streets of London and couldn't take time out of their schedule to look after little cats. Even if they were their own flesh and blood. The queen let out a small sigh, her mate looked up from his window gazing to stare at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked; voice cold and empty.

"Nothing," the queen answered equally barren of emotion. The tom nodded, "Only, what should we name them?" she asked motioning to the slumbering kits in the corner. The tom looked over at them, as if only realising there were someone other than himself and the queen in the room.

"It is your choice, I do not care." he told her and returned to his attention to the street below. The queen nodded slowly and left the window and moved quietly over to the peaceful forms; that were curled up together. She knelt down beside them and carefully analysed them. The tom was a mixture of ginger and red stripes mixed together on top of a white coat. He was tall and thin and had a highly domed forehead. The younger was a ebony black coated queen, with stripes of red mixed with gold that trailed along her back and up to her headfur. She was just as tall as her brother but was without the domed forehead. The queen thought for a moment before standing and facing her mate, whose head quickly snapped back to the window.

"I have named them," she stated loud enough so he could hear.

"Go on then," he drawled in a bored voice.

"On this night, I Lamia and my mate **Paris have named our two newborns as so; Macavity and Nyoka." She said to no one in particular. The tom nodded again, agreeing to the names Lamia had chosen for the kittens. "I wish to ask you one more thing," she said as she walked back over to the window.

"What is it?" he sighed, he was becoming bored of her persistent questions.

"Well... where shall we leave them?" Paris looked over confused. "The kittens I mean, you said we would not be able to take them with us."

"I did," he accepted the claim. "And to ease your mind they will be going to my brother's tribe, adjacent to Hyde Park. You remember?"

"I do. Will they be safe there?" she asked clearly worried.

The tom chuckled, "You have evidently forgotten everything I told you about Old Deut. When we were kits he was always far too cautious, the kits will be safe with him, don't worry." he pulled the queen into a gentle embrace, making her relax. "We go now, for it's quite a long journey," he said looking to the moon which had passed its zenith a while ago. Lamia nodded and collected the kittens from their corner. The pair slipped through the rafters of the roof and vanished into the night.

Well here it is, chapter 1. BTW first was the Prologue, now it's chapter 1. Please review!

*No by saying 'bastard kittens' I DO NOT hate Bomba and Demeter, it is another thing from Shakespear. Don't hurt me!

**A name from Romeo and Juliet. I don't really like him much, but it was the first name that came into my head. Also it means 'an unfair wager' so I thought 'Perfect for a thief!'

Those who can guess from this chapter who the ten Elements might be get 'smiley faces'!