A/N: Its better to read my other story, The Alliance, first before this one. This may be able to stand alone, but it will be somewhat confuzzling. Read it and tell me what you think! :)

My name is Harp Bell, and all my life I have been killing. I was part of The Alliance, an organization of nine assassins who kill in exchange for a slave. We were ranked in order of our strength—I was third. Winter, our leader, is first.

I first joined, I was neutral to the idea of death at my paws. I did not abhor it like Lady did, nor did I lust after it like Panther does so ostentatiously. When Winter gave me an assignment, I merely did it. But over time, to my own shame, I found myself hoping for another mission to kill, ever so slightly. Seeing a cat I barely know die at my paws brought a smile to my lips, and I felt a sense of satisfaction wash over me. Soon, I started going out by myself to find a victim to murder.

But I wasn't happy with my thoughts. Somewhere in the back of my mind I begged myself to stop doing this—it was wrong! But how could something so wrong feel so right? Ah, the addiction cliché. I promised myself to only kill when Winter ordered. No more, but no less.

Killing became my life. I was barely able to suppress my joy at being chosen for a mission, and the slaves I received. I did not torture my slaves without reason though, like the rest of The Alliance. I became the equitable one of the group: the one who did not love nor hate assassination.

Lady was the closest to a friend I had. I listened to her grievances of her other side, but I never tried to convince her to give in. In return, she didn't try to persuade me to stop killing; I probably wouldn't have succeeded.

My life became rather empty. The highlights of my life were probably when Winter ordered a group assassination, and I was actually challenged to fell a large group, sometimes up to ten cats. This happened more and more as groups attempted to join after the death of Scourge.

I started going on walks for indefinite periods of time, but never too long in case Winter called. During these walks, I observed the life of other cats. I watched the world go by in a detached manner, as if I were on the outside looking in. I never interacted with these cats I watched lived their normal, un-bloodthirsty lives. One day, I found myself drawn into the life of a particular tom…

~~~Evening, Twolegplace

When I found him on the ground at first I did nothing but watch. He was bleeding badly, and unconscious. I thought a monster had hit him, but the scrapes on his body were in the shapes of a cat's claws. A very vicious one at that, but nowhere as terrifying as a member of The Alliance could have been.

He was a dusky grey tom, and very plain. His scent was unlike anything I've ever encountered; it had a fresh, piney smell and that of the natural wild, instead of the streets around here. I suspected he is a clan cat.

I stopped and sniffed him once more, and on a whim, I took him by his scruff and dragged him into the shelter of an alley. That way, no monsters could hit him. He moaned a bit, but did not awake. I washed the dirt and grime out of his wounds and spat out the grit. Soon, he stopped bleeding.

A few moments later, I came back with a rat. I placed it in front of him and watched him while I waited him to wake. It did not take long, and soon he was opening his eyes. His eyes were the color of the pine trees I saw at the edge of the forest which I dare not venture into. It matched his scent completely.

"Who are you?" he mumbled. He tried standing up, but winced at a wound on his shoulder.

"My name does not matter," I meowed sharply. I pushed the rat towards him.

"Eat," I commanded.

He did so, but after one bite he coughed in disgust, "Blech! Rat!"

"Eat it now!" I hissed. He looked towards me in fear and quickly ate the rest of the rat.

As he finished, I stood up to leave. He looked up from grooming his paws and meowed, "Wait! Don't leave!"

I stared back at him coolly, waiting for a reason.

He stuttered, "Um… I mean, uh, I don't even know your name."

"It doesn't matter," I turned away.

"Wait!"

I turned back again, annoyance twitching my tail.

"My name is Pineheart."

He gazed at me, hoping that I would give my name as well.

"My name is Harp Bell," I finally said.

"That's a beautiful name."

I looked at him in surprise and he grinned.

"Thank you," I replied after a few heartbeats. He nodded, and stood up, testing his weight on his injured leg. Once more I turned away to leave, but I found him wobbling slowly after me.

"Why are you following me?" I snapped, whipping around.

Pineheart yelped in shock and fell back onto his rump. I failed to stifle a giggle—me, having to hold back laughter? It was unprecedented! I saw so many other cats laugh, but I never had an urge to. Perhaps a few times smiles twitched at my lips when I indulged in the murder of a group of cats, but at a clan cat falling back on his rump? How could I feel entertained by such… ridiculous actions? The way the tiny giggle burst out of my lips was foreign, like entering a strange new world. It was not necessarily a bad experience.

I touched my lips, shocked. When I looked back at Pineheart, he was gazing at me evenly, understandingly, glad but sad at the same time.

"You don't laugh often do you?" He asked me in a sad tone, smiling softly.

I only stared at him, appalled. He only gave me that strange grin of his.

"That's too bad, because it sounds beautiful as well."

I blushed beneath my light fur, and for a moment, I was afraid he was going to realize. I only nodded briskly and meowed, "Thank you, again."

"No problem," He said.

I stood there staring at him for a bit longer, then turned away, "Follow if you must, but I am not going anywhere you would want to be."

"And where would that be? I don't really have anywhere else to go."

I glared at him through narrowed eyes; would it be alright to tell him? I decided there was no harm in it. If he failed to please, he would die at my claws. But somewhere, in the back of my head, I doubted if I would be able to unsheathe my claws against this cat.

"The Alliance."

He stared at me with waiting eyes.

"I am an assassin."

Pineheart's eyes widened a little bit in surprise, but he said nothing.

"I live with eight others; I am the third strongest. Winter is my leader, and I will follow her until my death. We gained power from our ancestors that walk the skies, The Hidden."

"You mean like Starclan?"

"Starclan?" I asked, scowling. Winter had explained slightly on that subject, and spoke of her distaste for the forest cats and their ancestors, for they had no power except to whisper in cat's dreams.

"Yes, they are our warrior ancestors, and they—"

"I know," I interrupted, a bit cross.

"You do?"

"Yes," I meowed, a hint of a snarl edging my voice. Pineheart looked a bit taken back.

I sighed and to change the topic, I asked, "What were you doing in the Twolegplace, all beaten?"

"Er…" Pineheart looked away, "I was banished."

"Why?"

Pineheart sighed, eyes clouding with grief and shame. He shuddered, as if the very thought terrified him.

"Well?" I asked, not as sympathetic as I should have been.

"Have you ever done something you couldn't control, like it was a very part of your being?"

I was about to say no, but then, I thought about the numerous cats that had fallen at my claws, and my need for blood to flow around me.

"Maybe."

"Then you'd understand."

His gaze was so haunted I didn't press for an answer. Instead, I started once more in the direction of the camp, with him trailing behind. He looked at the floor, emotions playing in his eyes that I cannot decipher.

I turned my thoughts to Winter. What would she say at my bringing of not only a stranger, but a clan cat into our home? I do not expect a pleasant response. Why am I letting him following me then?

Finally, we arrived. I heard murmurs around me as I brought Pineheart through the dark alley. He looked around nervously and yelped as Bronze nipped him on the tail. Cackles ensued.

"What is the meaning of this?" Winter snarled. She stood on her tower of boxes, her silver white fur silhouetted by the moon shining behind her. I could not see her expression, but I imagine it was not a smile.

"How dare you bring a cat into our territory, one that stinks of the forest and clans!" Winter's voice rose to a screech, and the rest of The Alliance howled in agreement.

"He is my prisoner." My voice rang clearly in the space, and I felt Pineheart's stare rest on me. I shook of the guilt that layered onto my shoulders. He is just another cat…

"Oh, really?" Winter's voice was heavy with doubt, but she knew I can't do anything about it.

Pineheart was pushed forward and in front of Winter's tower, and I turned away, refusing to meet his eyes. I could see him glancing at me, his eyes pleading.

Winter glared down at him, assessing him. He was a pitiful sight, as any cat would be, encountering Winter for the first time. His entire frame quivered, down to every single whisker. He was pressed flat onto the floor, as if begging for freedom. Which Winter would never grant.

The small white-she cat leapt down from her throne and stood over Pineheart.

"Your name?"

"P-Pineheart."

Pineheart stared fearfully at Winter. Suddenly Winter lashed out and caught Pineheart on the temple with her claws, and he gasped in pain as blood welled up from the scratch.

"Look at him," Winter jeered, "Look at his pathetic state. Do all clan cats look like this, unable to catch their own prey?"

Howls sounded around us, but I did not join in.

Winter shoved him over, exposing his belly. She growled, "You can barely stand up. I wonder how you even catch prey, when the tiniest mouse would be able to fell you by twitching its whiskers."

Pineheart hissed, a bold move to hide his fear, and Winter let him scramble out from under her paws. He started scampering towards me, but the others mistook this as an attempt for freedom and snaked in front of me, surrounding him. He glanced at me for help that I could not offer.

Winter turned and flicked her tail and hissed, "Get him out of my sight. I don't want to smell his filthy pelt again. Do whatever to him, but do not let him free."

She stared at me for a few more moments, and I held her gaze without quivering. I saw Bronze confront Pineheart, and start playing with him by snapping and scratching at him. When I looked back at Winter, she was inside of her den, watching me amusedly, seeing what I would do.

I shoved Bronze and Wood away from Pineheart bodily, and growled, "He is my prisoner. Only I can do what I want with him."

Zael cackled, sneering, "You have feelings for your little prisoner, don't you?"

I kept my voice steady, despite the anger I felt, "Believe what you want, but you have no rights to my prisoner, because I rank higher than you."

"Is that so?" Basilisk snickered. He was the only one other than Winter who ranked higher than me, and I feared this would happen.

"What if I wanted to kill him?" Basilisk murmured, reaching behind me and touching Pineheart's whiskers playfully. He jerked away, hiding behind me.

I said nothing, for I had no reply. I saw Zael's eyes glimmer with excitement, hoping that Basilisk would use his power over me. For a long while, the tom said nothing, keeping both of us in suspense.

"You can keep him," the grey tom said. Though he had no reason to respect my choice, he did. Basilisk looked at me curiously, trying to assess my reaction to his words. I stared emotionlessly back, trying to suppress my relief.

Zael harrumphed and skulked back into his den. The rest of the cats dissipated slowly, giving me strange looks I brushed off. I saw Lady looking at me gratefully, but for what, I would not know. Panther spat and leapt outside, presumably looking for another victim.

I felt Winter's eyes on me the whole time.

She was no fool, and neither was I. We both knew what was going on, and I knew Pineheart won't be safe anymore.

And so, for the first time, I disobeyed Winter.

~~~Night, Camp

"Get up."

"Hrmm?" Pineheart mumbled. I swatted him, as gently as I could, over the ear. He grunted and opened his eyes, looking at me questioningly.

I murmured into his ear, "This has to be done very convincingly."

"What?"

Leaving him with the cryptic message, I leaped at Pineheart, using my shoulder to push him out of my den. He yowled and rolled into the opposite cardboard box, which happened to be right next to Panther's den. Great, more commotion.

Panther growled, stalking out of his den, glaring at Pineheart, then at me, "What are you doing, Harp Bell?"

"Reprimanding a slave," I said coolly.

Other cats began to crawl out of their dens, watching our exchange. Winter… I felt her eyes on me again, watching me, calculating…

"Well, do it somewhere else, some of us are trying to get some sleep," the silver tom hissed, tail lashing angrily.

Perfect.

I hissed in annoyance, and grabbed Pineheart by the scruff. He yowled in surprise, struggling. His wriggles were annoying, but faint and tired. As I shouldered my way out of crowd, I heard Wood mutter, "Wonder what he did to piss her off?"

~~~Midnight, Beside the forest

I dumped Pineheart on the floor unceremoniously, and watched him scamper up, shaking his pelt. He turned his head to lick the small wound I created on his scruff by being "convincing".

"Well…Thanks, Harp Bell," he purred, after he finished washing. My name sounded smooth on his tongue, as if he had rehearsed it so many times before. It didn't sound like Panther growling at me, or Winter giving me orders. They spoke my name as a stranger. Even though I knew Pineheart for barely a day, it seemed as if he knew me better than anyone.

He waited for a response from me, but I only stared at him. After a few heartbeats, I spoke.

"Why were you banished?" I could not keep the curiosity from leaking into my voice. I sounded like a kit begging for answers.

Pineheart sighed quietly, his eyes turning to the ground. He shuffled his paws nervously, glancing up at me. He murmured, "You probably won't like it."

"I don't like a lot of things. One more won't make a difference."

"I'm Shadowclan," This made no difference to me, for I was not familiar with any of the clans, "And I was a great warrior. I did everything I should have done: hunt, feed my elders, patrol…"

His voice trailed off, his eyes swimming with memories, and I waited patiently for him to continue.

"One day, I was on a solitary hunting patrol. It was going fine, until I came to the Riverclan border. There was a cat, sitting on the edge of the border, just staring at the sky. She was so beautiful."

Something about his words made my heart quiver. With pain?

"At first, I reacted the right way, by being hostile, but she was just so calm, and cold. But… beneath all that, she was sad. I started talking to her, and she started talking to me. Her name was Songfeather. I started going on more hunting patrols, alone, to the same place. Songfeather.

"I later discovered she was a loner's kit. Her mother died giving birth to her, and was only taken in because Riverclan couldn't deny a kit in need. She was discriminated in the clan, and had no friends.

"Later, she carried my kits, but when it was discovered that we were together, I was banished, and she was killed."

His story ended abruptly. His voice turned brittle as he spat the last sentence. I stared at him, with an emotion that I cannot place. Grief? Pity? ….or maybe… Envy?

No. No. No. I cannot be jealous of a dead cat. For winning a clan cat's love. I am not jealous.

If so, then what is this clenching pain in my chest? As if someone has taken something that I wanted, that only I should have? Is this what envy feels like?

"You know, you remind me of her."

I looked up, unable to conceal surprise. Pineheart gazed at me affectionately, as if I were Songfeather. I felt joy bubble up in my chest, threatening to make me float into the sky. This was so much different than the happiness I felt at assassination, so much different. It was… warm. And fuzzy.

I felt as if I could be with him forever. Stare into his eyes forever. Breathe in his scent. This emotion… was it… could it be…?

"Well, you two are pretty cozy."

Winter.

No.

Not now.

NO!

Pineheart collapsed onto the floor, blood bubbling out of his neck.

I felt the red blood splatter onto my fur, still warm.

I saw Winter.

Coated in blood.

His blood.

"No…"

Winter smiled sweetly.

"I have a new assignment for you, Harp Bell."

And all I could say was…

"Yes, Winter."

A/N: My computer is a mess. When I'm feeling responsible (which is almost never) I decide to pack up all my old files and pack it in a huge folder called "Old_Stuff". Then, more stuff builds around it, and all of it goes into another folder called "Older_Stuff". I was looking through three "Old_Stuff"s when I came across this story. I had only half finished it when I gave up/got distracted by something else of lesser importance. So, I decided to finish it and I got it ready just in time for Christmas. :)