"Oh, Silver! No!"

Seth felt a slim, deft hand reach out with spectacular swiftness and snatch him by the neck, lifting him up a few feet. His first instinct was to fight back. He had claws now, whereas his attacker only had a set of closely trimmed fingernails.

Stop! commanded the inner Natasha. Her delicate features would have been contorted into a rare scowl, had she not existed solely in his mind at this point in time. She may have even hit him, again. Seth had not known that clerics were trained to subdue the more energetic of the wounded. Not many people did.

"Bad," Eirika chastised, slapping his ears sharply. "Bad cat."

Seth griped, relaxing his tensed muscles as Miss Clara got away. Damn!

Eirika heaved a breath; he could feel the air against his ears. She cradled him closely, staring uneasily at the door.

"Sister, I think you should go back to your room," Ephraim advised softly. Eirika nodded and excused herself. Seth waited for her to release her hold on him, but she did not. Instead, she carried him all the way back, stroking his neck rhythmically.

Eirika seemed highly unnerved, Seth thought, nervous himself. He couldn't shake a sense of impending disaster; he should have been faster, he should have fought harder, he should have still been a man.

The Princess closed the door to her chambers behind her before setting Seth down, effectively trapping him. She sighed mysteriously, and ran her fingers through her long teal hair, pacing back and forth.

"Silver, who could have done such a thing?" Eirika uttered, truly grieved. She turned to glance at Seth's sword, propped up against the wall. "The sword of L'Arina is ho—"

Seth saw him first, swathed in black, a mere shape of indefinite gender. He yowled a warning, but as Eirika whipped around to face her enemy, he became her killer. The double knives slashed across her ribcage and her neck, lightning quick. The assassin sidestepped the pressured blood as it escaped violently from her veins. Enraged and horrified, Seth forgot his circumstance and charged at the black shape and leapt, clawing at his body and up to his face.

"Damn cat!" the assassin hissed, shooting out a hand to grab Seth by the neck to pry him off his mask. The cloth fell free and if he had not been blinded by fury, Seth would have recognized the countenance. The assassin put another hand on his head and broke Seth's neck, tossing him harmlessly on the floor. Lune stood silent in the corner, arms at her sides. The figure in black passed her by, unseeing, to strike the King unawares . . .

..0..

Eirika shot straight up in her bed, gasping for breath. Beside her, her husband stirred, blinking awake. She held her hand to her breast, frantically recovering her breath.

"Eirika . . .?" Seth mumbled, momentarily disoriented. He rolled over to face her, concerned. "Are you alright . . .?"

"Oh, I had the most vivid dream—you were a cat and there was a killer and you were trying to stop him and you were going insane and there was this witch and we were both murdered in cold blood and Ephraim was next and—"

"Hush, hush," Seth cut her off, sitting up to comfort her. He cupped her face in one hand and stroked her hair with the other, like a child. "It's alright, it was just a nightmare. It's alright. I'm here."

Eirika took a deep breath and nodded in the dark, settling down. Her heart beat slower and softer. Seth leaned closer and kissed her brow.

"I'm here," he repeated, pulling her back down onto the pillow. "Not a cat. Not dead. Hopefully not insane. Hush."

Eirika rested her head against his chest, drawing closer. Of course, just a dream. No cat, no witch, no killer. But . . . something tugged at the corner of her mind, relentlessly.

"Seth?"

"Yes?"

"Wouldn't that make a great story?"

". . . Eirika."

"Right, right, I know. Hush."

"Good night, Eirika. I love you."

END

..0..

. . . no, not really.

I just like messing with you. However, now seems an opportune time to say: reviewing in this story, asking for an update is fine. That's flattering. Threatening me unless I update is not. And trashing my other stories in order to get me to update is downright insulting. So don't do that, I beg of you. I am a very busy lady and a disagreeable bitch at heart. Writing this is supposed to be a relaxing break for me, not a hassle.

Thank you.