This is just a oneshot of the declaration in Roiben's POV. Warning: written at two in the morning!!

For people waiting for Dreams of a Dark Knight, I'm sorry x.x I'm trying to work on it, I really am, but I kinda just hit a wall =[

Disclaimer: Although sometimes I wish I were, I am not Holly Black, and these characters belong to her. Duh. =P

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Roiben's eyes widened with fear as he watched Kaye drunkenly fall to her knees before him. He had long since leaned of the volatile nature of Kaye's emotions and decisions while she was drunk. He just knew she was going to do something that they would both come to regret.

He also knew that he had to stop her. He quickly opened his mouth to protest, but the gesture had come too late.

"I, Kaye Fierch, do declare myself to you. I…I love you," she said. "I want you to give me a quest. I want to prove that I love you"

Roiben froze, stunned. How had Kaye come to learn of declarations? And how should he proceed? He doubted she knew how he wished she could be his, had dreamt of her sitting beside him, had longed for her to stay with him forever. And now she was offering it to him. That one, small quest was all that he had to give. It really could be that easy.

'But what of Kaye?' he argued with himself. He knew that he loved her, and her could no longer deny that the feeling was somewhat t mutual. But was this really what she wanted? Could she handle life in the Unseelie Court? And more importantly, could her bear to witness her live it?

'No.' His hand reflexively tightened on the arm of his throne. He would not let Kaye live this life. He would not let her suffer to be with him. No matter how much it hurt to do it, he would not allow it.

Mere seconds had passed while Roiben argued with himself, but he had made his decision. "To allow this, I would have to have a heart of stone," he whispered, treasuring each uttered word. He knew there wouldn't be many more. "You will not become a subject to this court."

Kaye just shook her head, stubborn as always. "I want to make a declaration. I don't know the formal words, but that's what I want."

"No." He tried to make the word sound final, but quickly found he could not. "I will not allow it."

There was a pause. For a fleeting moment, Roiben allowed himself to believe the declaration could be forgotten. But his hope was in vain, as Ruddles was quick to speak up.

"I have recorded it. It has been spoken. You must not dishonor her request," he almost sneered. His hope banished, Roiben solemnly nodded and started into nothing with grave eyes.

This was it then. The last decision. But what quest could he give her without being cruel?

'But I'm being cruel anyway, aren't I?' he contradicted himself. All he could do was make it quick and final, something he knew she wouldn't spend too much time on. It would be better if she forgot him as it was.

Slowly, Roiben stood and walked to look down on Kaye. He had made his decision. 'The last decision,' he reminded himself once more. He flinched as that thought resonated through him, echoing and stinging his heart.

"Kaye Fierch, this is the quest that I grant," he said. "Bring me a faery that can tell an untruth and you shall sit beside me as my consort."

Laughter rang from the crowd, but Roiben barely heard it. The world seemed to slow as he watched Kaye fall, leaped from the dais to catch her in his arms.

He looked down at her, anger and a new determination sparking up in him. "I promise that if I find who put this idea in your head, they will pay for it with their own," he said.

His last words to her. That last promise. He would see that it was not made in vain.

He watched in a slight daze as Kaye's eyes slid shut, as Ruddles carried her away and the crowd slowly calmed. Feeling slightly numb, he walked to his throne and slid down into it. And as it hit him, as he realized that he would never see his fair Kaye again, he started to sob quietly.

Those last words rang in his ears in a never ending chorus. And as he cried, he made a vow to keep that promise. Even if he died trying.

And somewhere in the dark, worn recesses of his heart, part of him hoped that he would.

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