Hey Keeper fans! This is my second KotLC story…if you haven't read the first one plssss check it out! This isn't a sequel, but it's always nice to have more views…Please tell me what you think of this story! It started out as a request for a one shot by sokeefe4life but turned into a longer fic…I hope y'all like it.

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KEEFE

Wind ruffling my hair. Sea breeze flooding my senses. The soft pink and yellow and orange of the sunset.

I should have drawn a sunset for Sophie. Or maybe not. Maybe it would have seemed too symbolic. Foreshadowing what I was going to do.

Sunset. On Sophie. On Foster-Keefe. On the perfect life Sophie was supposed to have.

On me.

I stepped a fraction closer to the cliff and looked up at the gold-rimmed clouds. I wanted one last image of beauty to take with me. The sunset would do.

But when I closed my eyes to breathe in the salty air one last time, the beautiful picture that slipped into my mind was Foster. Hair spilling down her back, still messy from a fight. Her favorite red tunic—the one with the pockets. Face smudged with dirt and blood. The glint of determination in her eyes.

I wanted to stay with her.

But I couldn't.

It was better for everyone this way. My mother wouldn't use me to hurt Sophie, or the other way around. I would be safe. I could watch over Foster from somewhere I could protect her better.

I'd failed her enough already.

"Foster," I breathed, hoping the wind would carry my words to the beautiful girl on the other side of Havenfield. "I'm so sorry."

Then I jumped.

—

SOPHIE

KEEFE! KEEFE! KEEFE!

Silveny's frantic transmissions filled my head and I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to tame the headache.

HELP! KEEFE HELP! KEEFE HELP! KEEFE HELP!

Yes, I transmitted back. Keefe helped me feed Wynn and Luna today. Remember?

NO! Silveny shouted. HELP! KEEFE! HELP! KEEFE!

I felt my face pale. Not Keefe help. Help Keefe.

Silveny, I transmitted. Do you know where he is?

KEEFE! WATER! BIG WATER! HELP KEEFE!

The ocean.

I sprinted across Havenfield's pastures toward the cliffs, hoping against hope that I wasn't too late. I raced down the trail toward the beach and ignored the burning in my legs. I had to get to Keefe.

"Keefe!" I shouted, my voice drowned in the rushing waves ten feet below. "KEEFE!"

Then I saw it.

A blond head bobbing in the water. Close to the cliffs. Moving in the rhythm of the waves, which meant he wasn't trying to swim. He was already unconscious—or he wanted to drown.

Either way, it was not going to happen.

I steeled myself, took a deep breath, and launched myself off the cliff.

The water was thick and suffocating, even blocking out the sound of the waves somewhere ahead. It was strangely peaceful. The water seemed clear, though most humans—and elves—shouldn't have been to see underwater. It must have been my alicorn eyes.

I caught sight of Keefe's limp form and swam toward him with redoubled speed. Something long, thin, and rather slimy tangled around my face—probably seaweed—and obscured my vision. I reached blindly for Keefe and was relieved when my hand closed around the sleeve of his tunic.

I kicked frantically, batting the seaweed away as I dragged Keefe to the surface. A particularly powerful wave slammed us onto the sand seconds after my head broke the water.

I lay there gasping for a moment, then became suddenly aware of Keefe's weight on my chest. I shoved him off of me and took his pulse. It was faint but steady. But when I passed my fingers over his parted lips, I didn't feel the warm air that should have been there.

Panicking, I straddled Keefe's torso and placed both hands on his chest, compressing rapidly. After thirty, I leaned over and pinched his nose as I breathed into his mouth.

After about a minute, Keefe gasped and immediately dissolve into a coughing fit. I scrambled off him, suddenly blushing.

"Foster?" Keefe croaked, his voice raspy from the water.

I slapped him across the face—gently. "What were you thinking?"

He sat up, wincing as he put weight on his shoulder. "I thought it would be safer. If I…wasn't around anymore."

I crossed my arms. "You didn't even want to say goodbye?"

"You would have stopped me." He traced his fingers through the sand. "You would have protected me."

"What if it was me, Keefe? What if I had decided the world would be better off without me?"

He offered a strained grin. "Not the whole world. Just a few of you."

I glared at him. His face lit up. "There! There she is! The Feisty Foster is back!"

I tried to maintain my expression, but I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. Keefe shot me a satisfied smirk.

"So…" he mumbled, "are we good?"

I punched him in the arm. "Not until you learn to take care of yourself."

"I'm Lord Hunkyhair! I take care of myself all the time!"

He pulled me to my feet and we bickered all the way back to Havenfield.

—

"Sophie!" Edaline sighed with relief as I opened the door. Her hands were full with a fresh batch of mallowmelt. "Can you help get the verminion under control? Grady's—"

She stopped when she saw Keefe behind me, a smile pulling at her lips. I blushed.

"Keefe!" Edaline squealed. "Do you want to help Sophie and Grady? They could use you—the verminion's getting pretty aggressive…"

"No thanks," Keefe said with an apologetic smile. "I'm not interested in dying today."

"You were ten minutes ago," I muttered. He shushed me and I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, he's not that vicious," Edaline assured him. "He's been better since Grady tried giving him mallowmelt."

"Ohhhhh." Keefe drew out the word as if realizing what she was talking about. "I'm sure your verminion's a sweetheart. Grady, on the other hand…"

He and Edaline laughed. I managed a smile, but it wasn't entirely real. Keefe had been interested in dying earlier today. He'd tried to kill himself. But suddenly he was back to joking and laughing and the mischievous prankster he'd always been, and part of me wondered if he was faking it to hide the scared, broken boy underneath.

I grabbed Keefe's wrist before he could sneak a slice of mallowmelt and pulled him away. He gave a small whine and made a pouty face, but I shook my head and shut the door with a rather evil grin.

"Here's how this is going to work," I told him sternly. "We're going to wrestle the verminion for a little bit, you are going to stay on Grady's good side—"

"Grady doesn't have a good side—"

"—and then we're going to go to my room and you and I will have a very long, very serious talk."

He bit his lip. "Do I have to call him Lord Ruewen?"

"Yes."

I led him out to the pastures, where Grady was struggling to wrangle a very stubborn, very angry verminion back into its enclosure.

"Hey, Soph!" he shouted. "Want to…" He narrowed his eyes at Keefe. "What is That Boy doing here?"

"We're enslaving him," I called back. "He can clean up all the droppings and feed Verdi and I'll never have to do it again."

Keefe pulled a face. "I think I might try to kill myself again."

I elbowed him so Grady wouldn't hear, but the verminion roared angrily, diverting his attention.

"Um," said a small voice from behind us. "Is this a bad time?"

I turned and saw Dex, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. His strawberry blond hair was tousled as if someone had intentionally ruffled it.

"I came over because the triplets wanted mallowmelt," he confessed, "and they threatened me with very gruesome forms of torture if I didn't get them Edaline's, and I was on my way over to beg her to save me, and I noticed this, and I thought maybe I could earn a favor and take home some mallowmelt?"

Keefe dissolved into laughter. I cracked a smile. Dex's younger siblings could almost—almost—rival Keefe in pranking.

"Yes," I said. "You can absolutely have some mallowmelt if you help us get Hamsterzilla back into his cage."

Dex glanced between the verminion and the direction he had come, as if deciding whether facing Hamsterzilla or the triplets was worse.

"Yeah, I'll take Hamsterzilla," he decided. "What do I have to do?"