Author's note: this a favourite section of mine from the How to Train Your Dragon FanFiction I'm writing. It will be up for a short while, just for a Beta audition I'm doing for a fellow FanFiction author. Then, it will be taken down until the entire story is complete. Any interested readers out there, drop me a review or Private Message with your comments; I'd love to read them. Please enjoy my writing. Now, on with the show ( ^ω^ )

— "Hoe-hoe oh," Dagur cheerfully threatened. Bending down, he grabbed a fistful of red hair and held up the unconscious RhudinBlaze for Nightingale to see. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." He quickly unsheathed his sword and held its edge, very close, to RhudinBlaze's helplessly exposed neck.

— Watching Dagur make his threat, to end her dearest friend's life, Nightingale reluctantly slid her enraged pursuit to a halt. She stood before him, snarling angrily at his dirty trick.

— "That's better," he appreciated, smiling maliciously at her recognition, as to who was in charge around here. "You wouldn't want anything to happen to her - would you," he asked threateningly, as the sun gleamed on its sharp edge, deathly close to slicing RhudinBlaze's skin.

— Nightingale glared angrily into Dagur's twisted eyes, as she assessed their situation. Taking a quick glance around, at the slowly approaching Berserkers surrounding her and RhudinBlaze, she found herself trapped. Glaring back at his threat, still in play, she felt powerless to save her, unharmed.

— Feeling helpless, she unwillingly sat on her haunches, folded in her wings and bowed her head to him, disgusted that she was forced to submit a gesture of her faith to him.

— "Good," Dagur sneered, lowering his blade slightly. "Oh, and one more thing," he added, glaring wickedly at her, as he stood to point his sword more profoundly at her. "If you disobey my orders, dragon," moving only her eyes, she and Dagur became locked in a death glare, "I will personally - make sure you have a front row seat - to your rider's slow - and painful execution." Nightingale snarled at him. "Before your own of course."

— Nightingale was unfazed by his smiling threat. She continued glaring at him, as he chortled, amused by his sheer genius of evil. He then turned to his commanding officer. "Vorg," he commanded sharply, as he sheathed his sword back onto his belt.

— "Yes chief," replied a very muscular Viking, clad in robust armour. His horned helmet covered most of his face, only exposing his main facial features. He stepped forward to Dagur's side and awaited his orders.

— "Take our bargaining chip to the dungeons," Dagur commanded, lifting RhudinBlaze by her hair, off to him. Vorg then took their hostage in tow and threw her over his shoulder. Nightingale angrily glared at him, appalled at the way they were treating RhudinBlaze.

— "Oh, and before you go Vorg," Dagur added, before he proceeded to the dungeons, "make sure to give her the - royal - treatment."

— "Yes sir," Vorg replied, smiling suspiciously vile, before he headed out of sight to the holding cells. All Nightingale could do was stay behind and helplessly watch with worry at the nearly lifeless RhudinBlaze bob out of sight, as she was carried away from her.

— "As for you dragon," Dagur continued, turning back to face Nightingale. "If you step out of line," he approached her, "I will guarantee - that you will never - see her again - and she will never - see you again."

— Nightingale snarled angrily at his remark, as he continued to smile deviously. "Feisty," he complimented, smirking, "I like that. Take her down!" He commanded his surrounding fleet, taking a few steps away from the crossfire.

— On his order, his men quickly charged at her, swinging long chains of lassos or bolas around their heads. Nightingale quickly stood, ready to ward them off, but they were too fast. Once close enough they halted and tossed them at Nightingale. Two lassos, looped around her neck from either side, choking her, as they pulled them tight; the bolas quickly and tightly wrapped around her wings, rendering her flightless; one chain was tossed around each of her legs (4 chains in total) and was pulled tight around them.

— Nightingale had now officially become their prisoner.

— Dagur chuckled with ravenous delight, as he approached his second captive. "You're mine now dragon," he decreed, eyeing her maliciously. Nightingale snarled at him angrily, as he crouched down to eye level. "I have big plans for you my sweet," he revealed, as he stroked the top of her head.

— Eyeing his hand, Nightingale snapped at him, nearly biting his entire right arm off.

— Alas, Dagur escaped his amputation. He shot back up to his feet, alarmed. He then examined his arm to make sure he really hasn't lost it.

— "You'll pay for that dragon," he promised, enraged, eyeing Nightingale maliciously. "Looks like our new addition to the armada needs a lesson in obedience." Dagur declared, addressing the rest of his fleet loudly.

— They rallied in agreement.

— "To the arena!" Dagur announced, turning on his heel. He struck the air above his head and lead the way.

— His fleet tried to follow, as Dagur's arm dropped back to his side, but when they tugged on Nightingale's restraints, it pulled them back, halting their stride. Hearing the kerfuffle behind him, which angered him (nearly everything does), he stopped and slowly turned around.

— "Why - is no one - following?" He asked. Looking back at the others, onto the scene he was supposed to lead, Dagur's anger rose a couple notches with spoiled displeasure.

— "It's the dragon sir," one of his soldiers informed, grasping a lasso around Nightingale's neck.

— "She won't budge," said another, holding a chain around her hind leg.

— This did not please Dagur in the slightest.

— Grabbing the hilt of his blade, he unsheathed it and marched back. "YOU'RE ALL MUTTONHEADS! INCOMPETENT MUTTONHEADS," Dagur yelled, swinging his blade at his soldiers, threatening to end their lives. "If the dragon won't move - YOU MAKE IT MOVE!" he growled with rage, before he approached Nightingale. "You think you're something special don't you dragon?" Nightingale eyed him angrily. "Think you're smart, huh?" She glared at him fiercely, not fazing. Dagur was ready to burst at the seams from her refusal. "DO AS I COMMAND DRAGON!" He demanded.

— He brought his sword up high over his head and swung it down across hers. His sharp blade sliced through her protective scales and left a large gash in its place. Her wound reached from the base of her right ear plate, all the way down to the inner corner of her left eye. Luckily, he hadn't blinded her, but nearly.

— Hiding her pain, Nightingale bravely faced the attacking Dagur, as blood trickled down her face and dripped onto the ground. She glared at him, wanting to rip him to shreds.

— "That was your first lesson," Dagur warned, pointing his dripping, dragon-blood stained weapon at her. "Disobey me again and don't think I'll think twice about ending your life, dragon."

— Aware of the inevitability, Nightingale accepted her fate and bravely submitted to her demise. She laid down before him, closed her eyes and waited for the end.

— Watching her behaviour, confused silence filled the air, tensing the situation.

— "Is a dragon supposed to do that when you threaten to kill it, sir?" Asked a curious soldier, gripping a foreleg restraint.

— "Of course not you idiot," Dagur jeered, glancing a glare at him. However, without showing it, he too was confused by her reaction to his threat.

— Taking paces around her, he thought about as to why she would admit defeat without a fight. Looking her over, his corrupt brain slowly brought the answer into view. "You don't care what I do to you," he asked Nightingale. "Do you?" She opened her eyes slightly, looked over at Dagur, uncaring, before closing them again and stirring minutely in response. "Clever. Very clever," he admitted, nodding his head, as he returned to her head and faced her; hands now behind his back. "You understand that I need you more and without you, I can't have my way," she stirred again. "Well, in that case," he concluded, turning his back to her, about to walk away with an evil smirk on his face, "I guess that means," he stopped. He looked over his sholder back at Nightingale, vilely grinning, "you don't care that I'm going to kill your little friend. Do you?"

— Hearing his new threat, Nightingale snapped her eyes open, with her pupils constricted into slits, surging with rage. She shot up, growling, roaring and snapping at Dagur repeatedly, trying to bring her claws up to lash him. She wanted to tackle him, tare him limb from limb, but couldn't. The chains wrapped around her neck and legs, were tightened by the strong haul of Dagur's men gripping them. His men pulled against the strong forward motion Nightingale created, until the bindings were taught with the strength to hold her back.

— "Hoe-hoe oh," Dagur chuckled, smiling. "Looks like I've touched a nerve there. Haven't I boys?"

— His fleet chuckled along with him, while Nightingale struggled against their hold. Every tackle she tried, the lassos around her neck tightened further, until she could hardly breath. The lack of air in her lungs made it near impossible for her to keep up the pursuit; she became sluggish and unfocused. Pretty soon, she was too exhausted to continue and ended up collapsing to her side, right at Dagur's feet, gasping for air.

— His surrounding men, holding Nightingale's tethers, eased the tension wrapped around her legs and neck. Pleased that she had finally ended her pointlessness of trying to attack, Dagur approached, until he could peer down into her weak eyes. "Do you get it now, dragon," he asked, maliciously grinning. He lifted his right leg and stepped on her neck. He applied heavy pressure until she winced and he peered down into her defeated eyes. "I - own - you!" Nightingale swallowed her dry tongue, desperately wishing for water.

— Dagur then took his foot off her and took a few steps back; an evil glint in his eyes. "Loosen the chains around her neck!" He commanded his fleet.

— Two of his spare soldiers hurried over and tended to the two lassos choking Nightingale. Quickly pulling on the loose chains, passing through the slips, it didn't take long before Nightingale's airway expanded and she could drink in all the air she needed.

— "Excellent," Dagur complimented. "Back to your posts." He ordered, eyeing his prize. "Now - do as I command, dragon." Nightingale slowly regained her focus, as she looked up at Dagur with tired eyes. "Get up." She slowly shifted all her weight onto her feet and stood, regaining her stature. "Sit." Nightingale sat on her haunches. Dagur was pleased by her newly found obedience. "Roar." Nightingale stood, took in a deep breath and bellowed the loudest cry she could into the sky. Dagur chuckled in utter joy. "Now - fire at that muttonhead," he pointed to the Viking on her left, holding a lasso to her neck; he looked nervous, almost scared. She turned to the person and opened her mouth. Welling up in the back of her throat, was the embers of her plasma bolt and a second later, she fired it at the innocent soldier.

— One moment later, a little girl's shriek could be heard bouncing into the air. Just ahead, beyond the smoking remnants of her attack, Dagur's soldier stood blackened with soot and upturned dirt, smoking from the heat and traumatized by the attack. Admiring that Nightingale was completely at his hand, he couldn't help himself, but smile an evil grin, as she closed her mouth, extinguishing the plasma and looked back at him.

— "So we have an understanding?" he asked her, as their eyes met. "Do as I say - and your rider lives." Nightingale glared at him angrily, through tired eyes. "Got it?" Hesitating slightly, she took a knee on her fore claws, lowered her head and bowed her understanding to him. "Perfect." Dagur cheered, enjoying the moment. He felt that the world was his oyster now, as Nightingale rose. "Hiccup won't know what hit him."

— Rubbing his hands together, relishing the moment, he addressed his fleet. "Let's move on out boys," he turned on his heel and took the lead, as the fleet rallied with him, succeeding to follow in his wake this time. Nightingale kept close, following directly behind him. "Time to train our new - secret - weapon."

Author's after note: I'm unsure when it will be taken down at the moment. It may be as early as tomorrow night or as late as mid February. (Underline + Italicized = Emphasis)