Heloooo! I couldn't wait until Wednesday to post this so you guys are getting a new story early. Though it's not about How To Train Your Dragon. Sorry! I'll try and get another 'Dagur's Secret' chapter up tomorrow but I can't promise anything. Otherwise, I'm going to try my hardest to get one Dagur's Secret chapter post each week and one Lost Island fanfiction posted each week and then sometimes a little extra chapter or one shot story.

Anyway this fanfiction is about the book series Fallen which I would REALLY recommend you read it- especially before reading this fanfic otherwise some things might not make much sense;) It's set in 1775 when Luce lives on that Island with Daniel. In the books you never find out how Daniel got there or how, this time, they fell in love so I thought I'd write my own story to fill in the unknown gaps. I'm also going to, after this has finished, maybe start writing a few more stories like this one- maybe a bit more on Helston (1854) or London (1613) or I've been wondering a lot about Milan (Italy 1918) I think that story would be quite cute- Luce and Daniel falling for each other so slowly and delicately. Anyway I should really just turn you guys over to the story…

Lost Island- 1775

Chapter 1- Mystery Island

The waves lash up my feet- tickling my toes gently. I lie back in the soft, cosy sand and stare up at the glistening moon. The word heaven floats across my mind. The stars sew together with crystal threads to make the constellations; like paintings on a misty black canvas. Not a cloud is in sight as I lay there- peaceful. Yet alone. What would I give to have something? Someone: Someone who wasn't my father. I sigh and close my eyes; letting the grace of sleep indulge my heart.

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It's not the rain that wakes me up. It's the screams. I jerk upwards out of my trance like sleep only to lay eyes on the ship: Burning in golden embers. It's being thrust continually on the hidden rocks that lurk beneath the tormenting shallows surrounding our Island. Even the best sailors get caught up in the Islands strong booby traps.

I shiver as the screams radiate from nearly a mile out to see. Flames engulf the ship even in the thick and fast falling rain: Gunpowder. It has to be the culprit. One crash against them rocks- one split in the barrels and there's no escape. I know just by looking at the sunset coloured flames that lick around the boat and the evil roaring waves that there will be no survivors.

"LUCINDA!" My father's voice whips through the howling wind so it's barely audible by the time it reaches me. I turn to see his dripping wet shadow looming from the misty darkness. "What are you doing out here!?" He yells upon reaching me. His loving brown eyes fall upon the smouldering ship and he casts his eyes downward; the fire dancing in them like a curse. "There's nothing we can do Lucinda! If we go out there we'll be carried away by the storm! It's best to leave them be!" I nod reluctantly as a flash of bright blue lightning illuminates his face and let him drag me back to our hut like cottage just up the shore. The screams and light smell of smouldering wood and charcoal lying in my wake.

I shiver but not from the icy sheets falling from the dark sky. It would only have been a few hours ago I'd fallen asleep. I must have known it was to calm: To gentle. I should have sensed the storm brewing in the air. But what good my sensing would have done remains a mystery. I wouldn't have known the ship was advancing. I was blind. I sniff and my father drapes his arm around my sodden and exposed shoulders to comfort me. We reach the hut, just up the beach, and stumble inside its warmth and soothing chocolate smell, slamming the old door shut behind us.

He pulls me into him and holds me tight. "We can't help them without putting ourselves in danger Luce." I nod numbly. Ships have been wrecked before on those rocks before- just not often. And you can't usually hear the screams; I grit my teeth to stop myself from shuddering at the thought.

I pray before going to sleep that night. I pray for a miracle: For the sailors' lives to be spared. Glancing out my tiny window the inky black sky contrasts against the blinding yellow of fire. The brightness turning black as it ascends into the air in dark gray plumes of darkness, and misery. Carrying the dreams and lives of many to another place far beyond the stars to a world of hope.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I kick aside the charcoal painted wood that had once been part of a graceful ship- swimming through the sea with her head held high. Anger swarms around my heart. Why? Why would this happen? What's the point? I can only try not to think of the men aboard that ship- the families that have now lost a father, a son. My feat graze the warm morning sand and I climb on a low and smooth rock to get a better look at the beach- now a village for the wreaks of a dead ship.

That's when I see him.

His blond wavy hair catches my eye as it falls across his lightly tanned face. His clothes are ripped and scorched in places and he's dripping wet but his beauty is what catches my hazel eyes. He stirs but his eyes don't open. His lean strong body lies in a twisted position upon the drying sand. Long raven coloured eyelashes bend from his eye lids.

I slide from the rock and touch his face gently with my hands. Beads of sweat run down from his face. "PAPA!" I yell- further down the beach my Father lifts his head up; his eyes catch mine and he races towards me. I turn back to the boy. He stirs again; pressing his face into the open palm of my hand. "Shhh," I whisper. "You're gonna be fine. I promise."

My father's loud foot falls announce his presence. I turn up to look at him as he kneels beside me. "Unbelievable." He mutters under his breath. "How do you survive a storm like that?"

He pushes me gently aside and, with his pocket knife, tears off the boys wrecked shirt. The boy winces as the shirt yanks at a burn sketched across his chest but his eyes don't open. "Is he sleeping?" I ask my Father gently as he tosses the shirt aside.

"No, I think he's just unconscious." My father runs his doctor trained hands along each of the boy's ribs. He stops short when the boy sucks in a sharp breath and stiffens; his eye lids flittering slightly. "Three broken ribs. Numerous burns. Not fatal so far." He mutters again under his breath; shaking his head softly.

I bite my lip- fatal- I feel like I've known the boy my whole life. A familiar pull seems to radiate from his skin. I shift closer to him. His lips are so pale.

Father moves down the boys golden tanned body that seems to emit the glow of a fire in the morning sun light. Gently, he undoes the boy's cotton trousers and slides them down revealing a long deep gash down the side of his left leg that's slowly oozing blood. I shudder at the sight.

"We'll get him to the hut- I'll tend to the poor lad there." I nod. "Can you help me carry him?" He asks me. I can only nod again. I take his feet and Father grasps the boy's shoulders. He groans again however he does not awaken. His lips part slightly as if he were whispering a name: Luce. I frown why would he be saying my name? Then I shake my head- it would just have been a trick of the wind. I help Father carry him up the dumping ground of a beach, through the edge of the forest and into the hut. He is so light for his form it's unreal.

We place him on father's rickety bed and he jogs out of our hut to grab his old doctor's supplies. I stroke the boy's cheek and whisper small encouragements as he whines fretfully in his unconscious sleep. His eye lids flutter for a moment then they open.

His vibrant violet gaze locks on my own hazel orbs.