"The queen has been shot!"

Maleek is already there with Seymour and Vincent, holding the queen's shoulders as they try to lift her to her feet. She cries n agony and pain, her makeup smearing and her blood permeating her dress. Roxas just stands there, the room . . . no, the world still spinning. His heart sinks.

With that angle of trajectory . . .

There's a whistle in the air.

Without thinking, Roxas shifts into his elven form, already the world settling down. He's in front of the Queen and whacks another arrow aimed for her head. The arrow whirls through the air and whizzes past Maleek's ear sticking to the back wall.

Immediately Roxas sends another dagger flying straight and a black shadow leaps off the architrave diving for the crowd. People scream and scatter as the assassin hops across two of heads of the guests before landing in the middle of a circle of guards.

The first guard she spins kicks and knocks him out instantly. As another guard tries to even pull his sword the assassin grabs him by the forearm and throws him over and to the ground.

He sees the purple of the cloak, the darkness of the shadows rippling off of her like smoke of a fire. The Faceless.

She leaps over the body, her leg jerking and sending a crest of daggers through the air, Roxas brings up his arms, blocking his face. The arrows ricochet off, the fabric of his sleeves ripping to reveal the enchanted vambraces given to Roxas by Zexion on his birthday.

"Get the Queen out of here!" Maleek screams.

Edge and Vincent take the Queen by her arms, while the rest of the Thirteen hurry the guests out of the garden.

Another guard grabs the assassin from behind and as two more run towards her, she kicks her legs to the side, nailing both in the chest before wrenching herself free and spin kicking the guard holding her. When all are down, she draws two serrated daggers sprints towards the direction of Roxas and Maleek.

"Roxas you get out of here too!"

"No!" Roxas snarls.

In a flash the Faceless Assassin is there, wielding two daggers, hurtling towards them from the air. Roxas brings up his arm against to block the blow. The impact sends him stepping back to his own surprise. No, it's no surprise. He's drunk. Even with his elven instincts in place, the world is still blurry around the edges, the sound louder in his ears than they should be.

The assassin continues to lash her arms out at Roxas, quick and precise like striking vipers. Roxas continuously blocks with his vambraces, sparks flying. She's fast; fast enough that he can't risk reaching down to grab his own daggers.

Thankfully as she's about to strike again, Maleek comes in from the side, kicking her away. The assassin rolls but she is on her feet in an instant, not dropping her weapons. She sprints towards them again and Maleek readies with his bare hands, his sword kept sheathed at his sides.

The two collide and Maleek blocks all of her attacks as she tries to strike. Roxas stare, rather dumbfounded, his hand aching to launch a blade straight into the assassin's heart, but something seems . . . off. And it's not just because of his intoxication.

Maleek has a reason for not drawing his blades. He usually draws them when he knew they were a threat. Isn't she one? She shot the queen. And then, when Maleek manages to disarm the assassin and she tries to retaliate by kicking out his feet, Roxas sees it. Her form is off. It's sloppy. She tries to throw punch after punch, but Maleek dodges with maddening ease. He moves with a steadied, practice, expert grace and she – she's almost below a level novice. Perhaps her shot at the queen was just laced with luck.

But why send someone who's so . . .?

"Roxas!"

Blinking, Roxas looks up in time to see the assassin hurtling towards him. Her foot meets its mark in his stomach, the pain reaching back to his spine. Roxas tumbles across the floor, sliding until he hits one of the many thick columns in the garden.

He opens his eyes to find the Faceless assassin thrusting her dagger towards him, Roxas ducks and rolls out of the way, kicking out her feet. The assassin moves with the fall, rolling along her side towards Roxas, then spinning herself up. Her foot nails him in the jaw.

Roxas grunts in pain, rolling along the floor and on his feet again. The Faceless assassin is there, and Roxas can't help but grin despite the blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. As the Faceless goes to punch him, Roxas ducks and kicks her in the right side. Then he elbows her in the left before and striking hard with an uppercut. The Faceless grunts in pain, but when Roxas grabs her by the neck, ready to pound her into the ground, her hand grips his forearm and suddenly he feels lighting shoot up his arm.

Roxas screams, and his grip immediately loosens, his muscles stiffening. He stumbles back, waiting for the shock, for the tingling, for the pounding in his head to stop, but once the lightning stops, he feels a punch left and right, then right and left. The air leaves his lungs as the Faceless rams her knew into his sternum, nausea clenching his stomach.

Roxas falls to the ground, grunting and the world spinning at dizzying speeds. It doesn't help either when he has to swiftly roll to avoid the blade of a sword embedding into his long red cape. Roxas struggles for a moment, reducing to cutting off the cape with his dagger before another sword stick into the piece that was just connected to his shoulder.

Pushing himself up on his hands and knees, Roxas looks up and another kick to his face sends him tumbling like a pebble across water. He stops, banging his head against – something. He can't tell now.

Water and pebbles trickle down the side of his neck, then down across his cheek and down his neck. The fountain. He crashed into the fountain.

Gods, his world is spinning. It's like things are moving too fast for him to catch up. He can't get his eyes to focus, his motor control is shit and his head is pounding. Maleek is suddenly there, going head to head with the assassin in close combat. Maleek purposely takes steps forward as he throws punch after successful punch, herding the assassin back away from Roxas.

Hands are on Roxas' shoulder, and he only struggles once before a familiar voice whispers in his ear. "It's me!" Laguna says.

Relief makes Roxas' shoulders sag as Laguna lifts him, draping an arm around his strong column of a neck. The two of them look over to Maleek and the Faceless Assassin, Maleek dodging all of her moves easily. Roxas grunts in annoyance and disappointment in himself as he watches Maleek nail her left and right, left and right.

Maleek blocks her dagger and then rams his knee into her stomach. The assassin grunts and as she's doubled over, Maleek brings his elbow forward before slamming it into the back of her neck. She falls to the ground, slump.

Maleek, his face stern and serious, binds the assassin's wrists before approaching Laguna and Roxas. Kain and Cecil walking. "Hmm, not much a scene you left. I'm surprised." Kain says, referring to the garden staying in one piece. It would've been funny had Maleek at least chuckled. But there's nothing to laugh about.

"How's the Queen?" he asks.

"She'll live." Cecil affirms. "But we're still waiting on a full diagnostic from the doctors."

"Something isn't right." Maleek says. He turns to the assassin unconscious on the floor "She seemed too easy."

"I could see it." Roxas says, regretting the words instantly when Maleek looks to him and narrows his eyes. But he holds his tongue, knowing better than to chastise Roxas for not listening to him. How was he supposed to –?

Oh, wait – yes, he should've known. He even packed those daggers he used for this exact reason. It was the first basic lesson his father taught him. Be prepared for anything. He was ready, and yet he let himself go. His heart sinks.

He has now reached a level below: Disgrace, and Embarrassment.

For the first time, he let himself have fun, and in result, the Queen got shot and he's made an embarrassment of himself.

It's his fault the Queen got shot. He was supposed to protect her.

"But why would anyone –?" Roxas starts but Kain interjects.

"It was a distraction."

"What?" Maleek and Roxas say in unison.

"The Queen wasn't the only target tonight. I had heard there's supposed to be an assassination on Prince Kiros tonight as well."

Roxas' heart sinks and he can feel his skin grow numb. Everything seems to freeze.

"What?" he asks softly. So quietly he couldn't hear it over his already pounding blood.

"Because he is allied with the King of Valendia, and because he is the Prince of Galtea, home of the Galtean Alliance – a rebellion movement opening up to those who wish to go against Kerwon. I heard some Kerwonean soldier hired a Faceless assassin to try and end him tonight."

Everything is slipping away, and suddenly Kadaj's manor feels so far away. Roxas' hands feel far away, his mind, his control . . .

"Those bastards." Cecil spits. "They'll do anything to keep themselves ahead."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Did you get a look at his guards? Hulking males." Laguna waves off.

"I don't know. Kerwoneans aren't afraid to get down and dirt if it means they're ahead of the game, and the Faceless certainly don't leave a job unfinished –"

Every one of the restraints Roxas had locked in place after he'd rampaged through Gollund Mines snaps free.

A grunt of a male and the quick pace of footsteps echoes through the garden. Heads turn to find the Laguna doubled over holding his stomach.

The doors are open, letting in the cold breeze of the outside.

"Roxas!"


The assassin sprints through the streets, her boots pounding against the cobblestone.

Her feet are bounding across like a stallion. Her hood is over her head, her cowl covering her face. The chill of the winter night doesn't even phase her as she keeps her eyes on the manor. Her heart thunders as she hurtles across the streets.

Her cloak trailing behind her, she's a phantom of the night. Pumping her arms at her sides she wills herself to be faster.

Kadaj's manor comes into view. Guards are all along the outside. She draws her swords without even caring about them seeing her.

One of them tries to stop her, but his leg is already slashed open, leaking blood before he even tells her to halt. The others are dismembered and lying in puddles of blood in seconds.

She's inside, and her she slips into the shadows, scanning her perimeter. While keeping to the shadows, her feet keep their speed, barely making a sound as her cloak shrouds her in darkness. She sheathes her swords to keep them from leaving a trail behind her.

She make her way up the stairs, quickly finding a set of doors leading to an outside balcony. Like a snake in the grass she's back outside in the cold, crawling across the bricks like a spider.

Because of her expulsion with the guards, she's on a time crunch. The giant windows of the hallway come into view and her eyes quickly scan the inside. There's no sign of the prince.

The assassin's heart jumps, her mind doing a quick scan of all other places she would go tonight. Nothing outside.

There's only one other place she can be.

The assassin looks up and finds the balcony to the prince's chambers. Quickly she climbs to the closest balcony and slips inside the doors, the warmth enough to make her skin sweat. She's in the hallway of the prince's chambers, just a left and a right and she'll be at the door.

With everyone gathered in the garden, silence is unneeded. The assassin sprints down the hallway, weaving her way towards the prince's chambers.

Two more guards are present at the doors, and just as they lay eyes on her, she disables them and renders them helpless in seconds. Blood drips from her swords.

Their howls of pain don't reach her. She can't hear anything over her pounding heart, like the beat of a heavy drum. Her swords are stained with blood, splattered on her clothes.

She rams her foot into the door, shattering the locks into pieces.

The assassin beholds the room.

The door to the balcony of the chamber is open. Its lace curtains billowing in the chilling breeze. Nothing is shattered, in fact it looks as if they were delicately opened.

And sitting in the chair . . .

Sitting there . . . there he was.

The assassin pulls her hood down.

"Why hello lovely." The assassin smiles crazily, voice laced with deadly calm.

The world slows to the beat of an ancient, ageless drum.

"No! No –!"

Deathly screams, splashing of blood and ripping flesh erupt from the chambers.


Maleek rushes through the streets with the rest of the Thriteen, trying their best to keep up with Roxas who is yards ahead. What started out as a fun night is going to end in bloodshed. All of the members of the Thirteen are sprinting as if the winds of time are pushing them forward towards Prince Kiros' chambers in Kadaj's manor.

Roxas had already left the garden, and The Thirteen had no choice but to follow after him. If it weren't for the red of his attire, Roxas would've been invisible in the darkness. With the red cape gone, Maleek can see the black mesh of lace, his golden hair gleaming in the moonlight.

Maleek's heart stopped when he heard it was a Faceless. His whole body practically stopped. If it weren't for Roxas sprinting off, Maleek would've just stayed frozen.

This is bad. They can't end Prince Kiros. They can't!

Maleek leads the pack as they follow Roxas, Cecil and Kain at his sides, Vincent bringing up the rear. Edge, Kuja, Seymour and Laguna stayed behind to guard and heal the queen and the guests.

Roxas is running faster than Maleek has ever seen him, even in his elven form. He doesn't look back, even when Maleek calls out to him. How does he know where to go? They only saw briefly the path leading to the manor from the garden. How does he –?

Suddenly Roxas takes a sharp right turn, Maleek almost skidding to a stop. Instead, he fixes his feet and keeps going forward. They pass the ally that Roxas turned down and he's already gone. There's nothing there.

Maleek swears, but only hopes that Roxas knew what he was doing and where he was going.

"Maleek?" Vincent questions.

"Let him go." Maleek orders, he and the pack keeps moving.

They keep on the straight path towards Kadaj's manor. The lights emanating from the window give a warm buttery glow. The black gates are cracked open, the bodies of guards lying in puddles of blood. Maleek's heart speeds up.

With his feet carrying him forward, Maleek shoves his way through the front doors, hitting the stairs, barely taking in his surroundings. The twins guard the doors, drawing their weapons and searching for any signs of the intruder.

They hit the stop of the stairs and a bloodcurdling scream makes Maleek's skin crawl. They turn down the familiar hallway, gasps and curses erupting from the group when they behold the wooden doors. The guards that were assigned to watch the prince lay on the floor with their throats cut from ear to ear, their internal organs spilling out onto the stone.

The door to the prince's chambers . . . it's been forced open.

Maleek prays for speed in his step as he crosses the threshold and –

Maleek beholds the room.

There is blood everywhere.

It's splattered across the walls, like someone had exploded and it's smeared along the floor like the body was dragged to and fro.

And at the center of the room . . .

At the center of the room . . .

Roxas.

Gods – it's Roxas. But at the same time, it isn't. How did he . . .?

He is entirely covered in blood. It covers his face, his arms, his legs. The blades of his weapons have lost their shine in turn for the rustic coating. There is nothing mortal or, real – nothing of this world. That black fire burns through all thought and feeling until all remains is his rage and his prey.

Maleek stands at the center of the doorway, gazing at Roxas, and the Faceless Assassin's broken body before him. It's empty, artfully mutilated, so cut up that a thick puddle of blood turns the floor back and tainting the tips of her auburn hair. Daggers were driven through her wrists and ankles, deep cuts along her legs, one eyes gouged out and her chest cavity open to see the side of her heart.

Gods above . . .

Prince Kiros' guards are also dead, their bodies chopped up into bits. People file in behind him, and they fan out around Maleek.

No one approaches Roxas, and Maleek can feel his knees quaking – in fear. Roxas just, stares at the Faceless Assassin, his shoulders haunched forward, his arms limp at his side, holding bloodied blades, his nostrils flaring and heaving through his teeth.

Maleek's eyes flick to the assassin, looking past the shredded skin, white bones protruding from places. He . . . he recognizes this assassin. Her alabaster skin, burnt-blue eyes and flaming auburn red hair was just hints, but it wasn't until Maleek beheld her face, or at least the remains of her face. His face paints the picture of her soft, smooth features and angelic smile, and Maleek can match her chipped daggers with the rips in Roxas' cloak. A stream of blood bubbles from her mouth.

Kairi.

She was the one who was sent to eliminate Prince Kiros. Maleek still remembers their first encounter. Her face is contorted to looking like she's in the middle of a death scream, her iron teeth out with its tips dipped in blood as well.

That scream, that horrible scream that iced his blood – that was Kairi.

But where is the prince . . . ?

Roxas doesn't even look at them, his hair covers whatever exposure of his face, his breathing still loud. Strands of his hair waft ad flick at his breath.

Maleek takes a step closer to Roxas, murmuring his name, "Roxas . . .?"

Vincent is at Maleek's side, carefully approaching the assassin. Maleek almost wants to run out of the room as Roxas slowly turns his head to face him. By the gods . . .

His eyes – by the gods his eyes! The ring of gold is a living flame inside the turquoise. And his pupils have shrunk to the size of pinpricks of blackness. Blood drips down the side of his face, gathering at his chin. He's still breathing heavy. His eyes are just . . . wild; as wild as the fire.

"Roxas," Maleek says carefully. Roxas' eyes flick to him quickly, and Maleek carefully takes a deep breath, feeling the air thicken with uneasiness. They're treating Roxas like a predator, and Maleek worries he's about to launch.

Maleek knew where Roxas is. He's in that dark place where nothing exists but an icy, endless rage that wipes away everything. Maleek gets dangerously close and extends out a hand. Roxas jerks his head towards the captain, causing everyone to flinch.

"Where is Kiros, Roxas?" Farkas asks softly. "Where is the prince?" As if Maleek's voice has broken the chain that was binding him the darkness, Roxas' eyes blink, and they blink again.

A loud bang comes from the back of the room. Heads turn and Roxas turns towards it, his blades still clutched in his hands as if he expects them to dissipate into dust if he lets go.

A large armoire is set along one wall and there's another bang that echoes from. Roxas' throat constricts. Vincent attempt to step over to it, but Maleek stops him, his eyes attentively on Roxas.

The door bursts open and the prince stumbles out of it, gripping the door to steady himself. He's still dressed in the attire he wore at the party, but he holds his head as he regains balance. He groans and shakes his head, and when he turns toward the crowd, he gasps and screams, covering his mouth with his hands in shock and horror.

"Wha – by the gods –!" Even with his dark skin, Maleek can tell he grows pale. Kiros almost looks as if he's going to vomit. His eyes gleam as he beholds his guards.

Roxas shifts on his feet, and suddenly his eyes are wide, his eyebrows furrowed. Prince Kiros' eyes go to Roxas, and his fear only grows.

There's a loud clang as Roxas drops his swords. He takes a step towards the prince, his feet sloshing in the puddle of blood. But the prince takes a step away from Roxas.

He's afraid . . .

Roxas begins to tremble. His hands start shaking as he takes another step towards the prince.

"Roxas . . ." the prince breathes.

At the sound of the prince's voice, Roxas drops to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. Suddenly, the room spins and Roxas finally feels his stomach clench and twist. Bracing himself on his hands, Roxas back arcs like a cat and he vomits all over the floor.

Spitting bile and saliva, Roxas looks to the prince and slowly shakes his head, but his wildness is still in his eyes. "I'm sorry." is all he can say. "I'm so sorry."

The prince's eyes flick from Roxas to Kairi's deformed body. Then a flicker of understanding swims across the deep brown and he kneels before the assassin. His hands take Roxas' face as he wipes his mouth, and the prince merely stares at him.

"I never wanted you to see –" Roxas whimpers. He would've finished but his voice gives out, and he only shakes his head. He's acting like he wasn't himself – which, possibly he wasn't.

The prince only pets the assassin's head. And then all together, Roxas collapses into the prince's arms, sobs wrecking his body. Tears of relief and joy that the prince is alive.

As Maleek and the guards file in and escort Roxas and Kiros out of the room, Maleek's stomach twists as he takes one last look at Kairi's broken body along the floor.


Roxas is still shaking even as he curls up next to the fire to the music room of Kadaj's manor. After he had seen Maleek's expression of sheer horror, after hearing Krios' voice and seeing he was alive, Roxas just – collapsed. The adrenaline that fueled his epic sprint for the manor just dropped and suddenly Roxas could feel everything.

He could feel the ache in his arms from the fighting; he could feel the blood that had covered him completely; he could feel the scratches and cuts and bruises inflicted upon him by Kairi, and he feels his heart racing as if it was about to jump out of his chest.

And when he saw Kiros, and the fear in the prince's eyes, Roxas almost shattered thinking he had lost another friend, but the prince merely held him while Roxas cried pathetically. His tears were just relief that had overwhelmed him since the beginning.

It's a miracle that Kiros is still bothering to speak with him. Apart from seeing the carnage that Roxas had left in the room, when Roxas had arrived, he practically scared the color off of Kiros only seconds before he grabbed the prince and forcibly shoved him into the armoire without much explanation. And that was just a minute before Kairi burst through Kiros' chamber doors.

After he had heard of the assassination attempt on Kiros' life, the world just slowed and blurred, and the next thing Roxas knew, he was sprinting through the streets and up to the manor. Thankfully he still had the sense to sneak around the side to avoid the guards, and followed Kiros' scent. He climbed up the freezing, slippery stones up to the balcony. Then he surprisingly ever so gently opened the prince's balcony doors and sipped inside.

He had scared Kiros as he was in the midst of removing his jewelry, and when he was about to ask what Roxas was doing there, one look of Roxas cold, dead eyes had rendered the prince frozen by fear. Roxas simply grabbed Kiros and ordered him to stay hidden and not make a sound. His voice was calm and sounded like gravel, the voice of a demon, not a young man. Roxas then simply sat in one of the chairs by the fire and waited.

And when Kairi showed up . . .

Roxas only greeted her with calm words, and a wicked smile. Kairi didn't expect to see him, and Roxas took full advantage of her surprise. He first flicked his wrist and a dagger immediately found its home in Kairi's eye, erupting a scream from the Faceless assassin. She had barely finished when Roxas launched himself. He pulled her dagger free from Kairi's eye, not even caring at the eyeball lodged hallway up the blade.

Roxas only had a few blades on his belt, but it was all he needed. After thoroughly hacking and slashing at Kairi, accompanied by blows of his fist and knees, when he got the Faceless assassin on the floor, he pinned her there with his daggers.

Roxas practically dissected the Faceless Assassin, cracking open her chest cavity like a nutshell, plucking her nails off like petals to a flower and stabbing daggers into her limbs like she was a living pincushion.

Roxas then proceeded to pry Kairi for answers, and every time she refused or cursed at Roxas, (which was a lot) Roxas then ripped off each and every one of her nails. He only got one hand done before the Faceless assassin confessed.

Now Roxas has a name and a location. And when he finds the soldier responsible for the attempt on Kiros' life, that person will be his to take apart. Slowly. He had barely begun the fun when he was doing away with Kairi.

But it wasn't enough. Roxas wasn't ready to let the bloodshed end. He wanted to rip out Kairi's throat with his teeth. And he would've had the she hadn't died so quickly.

Kairi was good, those god-damned daggers sure have a reach. Roxas looks to his now bandaged side, the area where Kairi swiped him. Even he didn't know the full extent of his injuries until the healers removed his clothes. Thankfully, that was only nick that Kairi had managed to inflict. Every other part of Roxas was untouched.

Only now does Roxas realize the torture that he had probably put Kiros through as well. The armoire he had stuffed the prince in was right there while Roxas performed his own execution. He had heard every scream, every curse and every begging word that Kairi unleashed to Roxas; only to have splashing blood, ripping flesh and gurgled screams in return.

What had terrified Roxas the most was that familiar feeling of when he had rampaged through the Gollund Mines. It was the exact same feeling. He could only see the assassin and the prince, he could only hear his pounding heart. Everything else was blurred and meshed together in smears of color. And when Maleek and the prince spoke to him, it all just – cleared away like fog.

He had failed. He never wanted anyone to see that darkest part of him. He was sure he had secured everything in place after what he had done to the miners and guards alike in Gollund Mines, but after hearing what was about to happen to Kiros . . .

The door shut loudly and Roxas jumps in his seat, his arms shaking. He only calms slightly when he sees it to be Kiros, carrying a blanket. Roxas doesn't look at him even as Kiros wraps the blanket around him like Roxas is a child. "There you are, Luminos."

Roxas relaxes slightly at the name. Kiros sits next to him, now dressed in cotton night clothes. Roxas doubts Kiros will be able to sleep tonight, and even if he does, Roxas might not.

After Maleek and a couple of guards led him out, they wanted to bring the two men to somewhere safe; why that's still in the manor, Roxas doesn't know why. But he was able to draw enough sense that he had mumbled the music room. Being surrounded by music, it gave Roxas a little bit of comfort.

No on protested, and Roxas and the prince held hands the whole walk there. Roxas didn't want to let go of him, he doesn't even think he wants to leave the manor again if threats continue on.

He hopes that Tifa heard, in detail, about what Roxas had done to Kairi. He hopes his mother hears and knows to stay the hell away from him and the prince.

Kairi was one of the last few members if not the only member of the Faceless. After Roxas nearly massacred the entirety of the Faceless Assassins, Kairi and her twin Namine were most likely the only ones to have made it out alive. And there's Sora too, but he wasn't properly trained as the others.

He had managed to wash the blood off, having spent over two hours in the tub, taking three baths just to ensure he washed every ounce of Kairi's blood off his skin. Then Kiros had brought him some fresh cotton clothes.

Roxas wraps the blanket tighter around himself, hugging his knees to his chest. The heat of fire doesn't seem to be reaching him at all. For a moment, Roxas darkly jokes about how his frozen heart is probably leeching away the heat. Perhaps he had spent so long without warmth that he now possesses a heart of ice.

Kiros shifts next to him, tucking his legs underneath himself. Roxas knew he wanted to talk about what happened, another reason why Roxas is even more upset. He never wanted anyone to see that side of him again. That part of it, it belonged in the dark. So it was right at home in Gollund Mines.

A hand touches his shoulder, and Roxas cringes again. "Luminos," the prince speaks.

Roxas almost wants to scream.

"Are you all right?" the prince asks in Galtea.

"I don't know." Roxas whimpers.

"I'm sorry to bring this up, but I wish to ask –" Roxas bites his lip hard enough to make it bleed. "– even if I didn't see much, to hear what you had done . . ."

"I'm sorry about that. I wasn't thinking." Roxas says. "I was bent on protecting you and, making her pay that I didn't even take into consideration –"

"Luminos," the prince's hand rubs Roxas' shoulder. Each time he says that name, Roxas wants to just cry and burrow into the prince's warmth. "I owe you my life. And that's all that I understand."

A sob escapes Roxas' lips. He doesn't even realize he's crying until he feels the warmth of his tears on his cheeks.

More sobs breach past his chapped lips. Roxas covers his mouth and begins to choke on air, huffing and breathing and gasping. He cocoons himself, bringing his legs up and his knees touching his chin. The darkness of his mind churns and it throws forth the images that he had forced himself to try and forget. Kiros remains silent. The fire crackles. In the quiet, people, places, words echo in his mind.

Then, the couch groans as the cushion compresses, and he feels Kiros' warm hands dig through the blanket to grasp Roxas'. Roxas looks up and through his tears he sees the prince's soft face.

The prince squeezes Roxas' hand. "You are my greatest friend, Luminos. And after what you did for me today, I am – jubilant to see just how far your love and care for me goes. I never would thought that Kingdom Heart's Assassin would ever safe my life."

Roxas chokes on a laugh, using his free hand to wipe his tears. He smiles slightly.

"You probably shouldn't be so grateful." Roxas says. "Not after what I made you hear, what you saw, and most of all – there is no way in hell I'm letting you out of my sight now."

Kiros smiles and chuckles. "I would enjoy your company, Luminos."

They would have to stay here until the Queen is healed, and Roxas heart sinks. It feels as if he's been avoiding the issue up until now, ignoring the fact by distraction. And now, sitting here with the prince and only the crackling of the fire, Roxas almost screams when he beholds the truth.

He failed to protect the Queen. The Queen is injured because of him. And the baby . . .

Roxas' heart nearly stops.

Gods – oh, gods, Sephiroth will never forgive him if the child . . .

Roxas viscously shakes his head, his body starting to quiver as if he's been caught in a snowstorm. He can't accept that truth. Not yet.

Kiros manages to grab a couple more blanket and orders pillows and a tray of light food to be delivered. Kiros sets pillows all around Roxas, the assassin tiredly giggling. Bundled down in his cushioned nest, Roxas nestles down farther, wrapping himself around the pillow as he closes his eyes. Roxas tells Kiros talk about anything everything else until the prince falls asleep.

While the prince sleeps soundly now, curled into his covers with his braided hair fanning around his head, Roxas sits on the ledge of the bay window adjacent to the bed. Even when dressed in cotton night clothes, he blends in with even the slightest shadows. He spins a dagger slowly between his fingers, his sparkling eyes watching the prince and checking the surrounding sections of the room.

He's been this way for at least four hours, but it seems shortened with his beating heart. He shifted at every sound, he eyed down every shadow, and constantly kept opening and closing the windows to check for someone climbing the walls. He had to make it brief as he didn't want the chill reaching the prince.

As soon as the clock strikes four, he will retire to bed with the prince. Strictly for the reason being that Kiros' bed looks much more comfortable than the wooden seat by the window. Even the fire has given up for the night.

Roxas turns his head towards the window, disappointed at seeing how much of the Greylands has become exposed once more since the snow has melted.

In the silence of the room, Roxas has pretty much thought of every scenario that things could go from here, should the Queen not recover from the arrow. Roxas clenches the hilt of his dagger in his palm, gritting his teeth.

At least Kadaj was content enough with letting Rydia and The Thirteen stay in his home despite the circumstances. Roxas feels bad even for vomiting on the carpet, but at least his head stopped spinning immediately after. While he can't really say his night was ruined by the assassination attempt on Kiros, it certainly did dampen the fun.

No doubt Maleek will make him pay for not only getting drunk, but getting drunk on the job, and failing to protect the Queen. Even if he decides to go easy on Roxas, Sephiroth might not. Gods, to think about what punishment he'll give Roxas . . . the assassin shivers at the thought. His eyes almost water.

He can't take another whipping. Not anymore. He surely won't survive it. Kiros might be able to speak up for him, but it won't be enough. He protected Kiros, but failed to protect the Queen. And with no reports on her condition, Roxas' nerves are practically shot. He needs to know. But at the same time, he doesn't.

The clock tucked in the corner chimes, and Roxas jerks his head, ready to throw his dagger. The clock reads four in the morning.

Roxas sighs and shifts from the window. Roxas tucks away his weapons into the drawer of the nightstand, then carefully climbs into bed to make sure not to disturb Kiros. Quickly, the assassin is asleep.

It is over.