9 There's No Stars Up In The Sky

The moon shone brightly in the eastern sky as the Deadly Nadder arose high above the island that had once been the only home she had ever known. It was never a place in which the dragon had felt safe however, because Dragon Island was more akin to a prison than a home for the many hundreds of dragons that dwell there. Ruled by an overlord that demanded a constant tribute of food, she could do nothing but hunt and sleep, but never truly rest. That was until the night of her capture several months ago, when she was caught in a Viking net while raiding a small village to the northwest, and then thrown into a stone cell that was attached to an arena covered by an iron cage. In the other cells around her were imprisoned several more dragons that had been captured during previous raids on the village; these others simply sat in their cells having long ago accepted their fate, while the young Nadder exhausted herself in a desperate attempt to escape her prison by continually throwing her body against the metal covered granite door. Soon after, having failed completely, she resigned herself to her fate and fell into a shallow and restless sleep.

Life for the captive dragons could only be described as hard, and she never knew when each day began if she would be left to fret in her cell, or be taken into the arena where young Vikings would fight with her. If the dragon was defeated, she would be forced back into her cell, but if she should ever come close to gaining an advantage over her adversaries, a huge one legged man with a metal hook for a hand would intervene and Take her advantage away. If she was fortunate, she would be given some food after the fight, although it was never very good food; just a few fish heads or the rotting guts of some animal from which the Vikings had already taken the best parts. Afterwards she would be left alone in the dark to recover for a few days and await the next time of battle, but then one strange day, events took a very different path and each dragon's life would change forever.

The young Nadder was pursuing a small group of Vikings through a maze that had been set up in the arena outside her cell. It had been a good day for the blue dragon; the sun was high and felt good as it warmed her back while she hunted her clumsy prey. She had been able to get off several shots at the fleeing and screaming Viking children, and began to feel confident that this was well and truly going to be her day; then just as she was about to finish off the two that had fallen, one of the smallest had jumped up and hit her hard on the side of the head with a shield attached to an axe, sending her falling back in a daze and she soon ended up back in her cell.

A few days later she found herself in the arena once more; again the Vikings were scattered and on the run from her sharp claws and snapping beak. Looking around the ring she dodged an axe that was spinning toward her head; she picked out one of the smallest Vikings and rushed at him, but to her great surprise he didn't turn and run as expected and so he soon disappeared into her blind spot just below her chin. The dragon's heart beat rapidly because she knew that she only had a few seconds to sniff out her prey before the others could regroup and drive her off again, but before she could manage to pinpoint his odour and strike, she felt a soft yet firm rubbing on the side of her jaw. The dragon began to feel a little woozy but then the hand that pet her moved under her chin causing the huge dragon to drop down on the ground with a loud thump; she began to purr like a cat by a warm fire.

Two more days passed while she sat in her cell and listened to the sound of a mighty battle that was taking place in the arena; two powerful dragons and many roaring Vikings fought as she continued to cower in the dark while wondering what fate held for her future, but later that night the door to her cell began to open with a long slow creak. The silhouette of a small figure stood in the warm glow of the torchlight and the wary dragon tensed herself with fear. Instead of shouting at her, the figure spoke in soft and soothing tones before two distinct aromas filled her nostrils. The first and strongest was the smell of something she had desired ever since her capture and it made her drool in anticipation; it was the welcoming aroma of a whole, large and fresh fish and the second and much weaker smell, was the one she had detected when her chin had been rubbed a few days ago causing her to pass out. The tiny figure moved closer and offered her the fish; she opened her mouth and took it with gratitude and delight.

The next day came with the anticipation of better things to come after the four large beasts and one very small one had spent the entire night with the doors of their individual cells open to the much larger prison arena, where a warm fire blazed and a small Viking moved from dragon to dragon petting them softly and providing them with regular treats of fresh fish until their bellies were full and they all nodded off to sleep, more content than any of them had ever been before.

Early in the morning the dragon had awoken to find the boy gone and the door closed, but he soon returned and opened the prison door wide. As he came back inside, all the dragons could see that the other small Vikings were standing out in the arena behind him, but for the first time ever they were all unarmed. The boy who had given them fish the night before greeted them once again before he lead the Monstrous Nightmare outside and took him to one of the young Vikings, who placed his hand gently on its snout. The Nadder was finding it hard to believe; not only had Fish Boy changed her view of Vikings, but it was apparent that he had also managed to change the Vikings as well, and although she was unsure of what awaited her, the dragon stepped out into the sunlight and was approached by a small blonde girl.

The dragon recognised this girl as the one who had struck her with the shield covered axe some time ago, but this time she was speaking softly and rubbing the dragons cheek just as the Fish Boy had done; this must be his doing and if the girl continued to act in this way, the big blue Nadder decided to give her another chance.

The Chief was right; of course he was. Stoick had been sailing the open seas around Berk since long before Astrid was born, and if he ever said it would be a rough night, then the time had come to lock the doors and windows and then nail 'em down for good measure. Astrid and her dragon had been in the air for a little over an hour and the headwind they were fighting against was now only marginally slower than the inhaled breath of the giant dragon they had fought earlier in the day; so at least they were still flying forward, but only just. Astrid now figured that it would take longer than the two to three hours to reach Berk than she had told her Chief, but there was no chance at all that she would ever consider giving up and going back. It wasn't her pride that made her feel this way, and it wasn't because someone very annoying (named Snotlout) might make an awful comment about how weak girls were.

The true reason she could never give up was Hiccup; that boy had saved her several times over the last few days, and now it was her turn to save him. The very first way he had saved her was from herself; ever since that very first day of dragon battle training, Astrid had been changing into the type of person that she did not want to be; jealous and obsessed. She had begun to hate everyone and everything and the only reason that she felt this way was because none of the others in the arena would think and act as she believed they should; the whole place was filled with flirting, fear and infighting and Astrid believed that the king of all this trouble was Hiccup.

The other four had their problems too; Fishlegs trouble was fear but he always kept his mind on the enemy. Ruff and Tuff on the other hand showed very little sign of fear but unlike Fishlegs, their efforts were directed more towards defeating each other and not the dragons. Snotlout, although brave and strong, had his mind on something else altogether, but the one in Astrids who embodied everything that was wrong in the arena, was Hiccup. He may have been the son of Stoick, but he was nothing like the Chief and he spent all his time doing everything except what he should.

If there was a place to be, he wasn't in it. And if courage was needed, he'd never show any, but on the very top of her list of reasons to hate Hiccup was his infuriating ability to combine everyone else's flaws; he could get in the way, flirt with Astrid and upset the fight all at the same time. It almost seemed that he was not on their side at all, but then... one late afternoon when the final test was over, Hiccup had shown her... no... he had forced her to see the dragons in a completely different light; he had kidnapped her while riding on a Night Fury and her life would never be the same again.

Later he had saved her in a more literal way when he had kept both Astrid and her dragon from disappearing down the throat of the giant dragon, and he followed that up by saving her again as she fell back to earth but if this were not enough, he had capped it all by saving the entire tribe and all the dragons at the same time.

"IT'S NOT FAIR!"

She declared her opinion to the world in a loud voice as the rain obscured both her vision and her tears; why was Hiccup now fighting for his life when he was the one who had defeated the beast? How could it be that the only one to see the truth, was the only one still suffering?

"It's just not fair" she repeated dropping her chin to her chest.

Thoughts of Hiccup were driving her forward; the thought of him lying back there in the cave, the memory of seeing him for the first time in his father's arms with his left leg just... gone. Thoughts about everything he had done for the tribe; thoughts about everything he had done for her. No; she would not fail. It was not as simple as 'Succeed or die trying' for if she died then Hiccup died and He...Must...Not...Die. It was as simple as that; he must not die.

The muscles that powered her wings ached and burned, but the dragons would not stop. For she had sensed something and it was something very important; the girl on her back had screamed but not at the dragon, she had screamed at the night and she had screamed with passion. It was a mystery to the blue dragon why they had left the island, with its warm fire and good friends all around, but the girl had wanted to go; and if she wanted to go, then the dragon wanted to take her and would not let her down. It was only recently that these two had become friends after they had fought against each other several times in the arena, and it was the boy... the boy with the fish who had made it all possible.

On that first wonderful morning the dragon had noticed, without knowing how or why, that Fish Boy had done something to the girl that had calmed her and now instead of throwing axes, she was scratching the dragons neck and making soft sounds too her. Fish Boy must have done something to the other Vikings as well, for none of them wanted to fight, except of course for the two that looked alike, but they only fought with each other. After spending some time with the other dragons, Fish Boy came back with something in his hand and let the dragons smell it; there was the distinct aroma of Viking sweat on the long coiled fibres of the rope. He walked back along the Nadder while lightly touching her neck so she could sense where he was and then he threaded the rope under her wings and threw it over her body, tying it underneath at the base of her neck; he then used the rope to pull himself up onto her back.

It was a new sensation for the dragon to carry a rider, but she soon got use to it as he urged her forward for a few steps. The dragon kept walking until she felt a light pull on the rope fastened around her and so she stopped alongside the girl who climbed on her back behind the fish giver, who urged her on once more. As she walked, she felt a pulling on one side of the rope and so she circled around that way and received a grateful pat on the back for her effort. The turn she had made brought her around to face the open door of the arena and she felt her riders urging her on to walk faster as she passed through the opening. On the outside now for the first time since her capture, she broke into a brisk trot and then to a run, all the time being urged on by her new friends. Unable and unwilling to stay earthbound any more, she spread her wings to their full width and soared up into the sky; a warm feeling of delight filled the dragon as she threw off her memories of the dark prison, and enjoyed her freedom once more. She could hear the two riders cheer with joy as she beat her wings and continued to climb.

Hi everybody, Moon here; some of you may know me as Marty's cat but the truth is that he is my 'can opener' (and a lazy one at that – did you know that he only feeds me twice a day? Disgusting)
I've been looking into this whole FanFiction thing and I've noticed a few things; the most obvious is that you people can write about anything you like – and you do.

You can make Hiccup and Astrid high school kids, Toothless a human, Harry Potter a girl, anything you like, so why can't I find a story where the hero is a cat? (and I don't mean like in Lion King)
Here are a few ideas for you all:
How to train your Kitty (naturally)
Mad Manx
Catman and Robin (obviously)
Deep Space Feline
Catflap SG1 (indeed)
iCaty
Cattlestar Galactica
Kill Dog Vol. 1
Buffy: The Vampire Rat Slayer
Ouran High School Cat Club (it could work)

Get onto it people!