*I would like to tell you all now… I had two people last chapter admit to walking away from their FF reading devices and scream into a pillow. That right there makes me so proud. I may or may not be a devious devil that derives pleasure from yanking viciously on your heartstrings… ahem, anyway.

On a totally different and utterly random note…. Just so everyone knows, waking up the day after Thanksgiving and having a piece of pumpkin pie for breakfast is the best feeling in the world. Pumpkin pie: the breakfast of champions. Or gods. ;)

Anyway, on with the story.

Misery

Loki paced his room, mind in complete turmoil as he replayed the scene over and over again in his head. He broke off from pacing and (not for the first time) picked up a book and flung it across the room in an attempt to take out his self-loathing on something else. It hit the wall and slid to the floor, joining another discarded book that had been chucked in anger.

He kicked the wall for good measure and continued pacing.

He was so stupid. He was such an oaf. What was bloody wrong with him? She had been right there…

The image was imprinted on the inside of his eyelids… every time he blinked, he saw Noir, only an inch away, looking at him… hopefully? Why hadn't he had the guts to just…?

He passed a table, and snatched the vase off of it, tossing it to the floor with a satisfying sound of crystal shattering.

What was he doing to himself? How was he going to be able to face Noir now? What was he going to say? He should have just done it… He should have just… made up his mind. Either he should have just left it with the hug; he shouldn't have leaned down to…

Or maybe he should have just… closed that last inch of distance between them. He found his heart was racing at the thought. He would have liked to have done it. So why hadn't he? Again, he mentally kicked and berated himself, thinking words of cowardice and idiocy.

He should have just kissed Noir. Not on the forehead, like he had ended up doing… he should have just…

He felt lost, and confused, and angry, and sad. And he kind of hated himself at the moment.

With another surge of anger, he shoved the table over with a loud clatter. Then he simply buried his face in his hands, wallowing in self-loathing.

There was a knock on the door, startling the dark prince out of his reverie. He looked up in surprise.

Expecting it to be Thor, he called out, "I do not wish for company right now."

Another knock sounded, slightly softer.

Bitterly, Loki crossed the room and yanked the door open, a 'go away!' on his lips. But the words died in his throat when he saw his mother standing before him, looking solemn. "Oh… h—hello."

"I'm overjoyed to see you, too," she said flatly, searching her younger son's face carefully.

Loki glanced away. "I'm sorry. I expected it to be Thor."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not Thor… why do you not wish for company?" Frigga questioned gently, already picking up on the chaotic energy surrounding Loki.

He sighed. "Nothing, mother. It's nothing. Did you need something?" he asked bitterly, the scene with Noir playing over again in his head.

Frigga shook her head. "I merely wanted to speak with you. May I come in?"

Loki winced, glancing backwards. Everything was a wreck… vases and glasses lying in fragments across the floor, and books haphazardly lying in disarray where they had fallen after hitting the wall, and tables overturned. "…I prefer you not," he said uncomfortably.

Frigga raised an eyebrow. "…Why?"

Nervously, Loki merely said. "I'd simply rather you not come in."

"Are you alone?" Frigga asked slowly.

Loki's face got hot. "Yes, I am," he muttered.

"Then there is no reason I should not come in," she dismissed, and she gestured for him to step aside and let her in.

Feeling dread, Loki stood aside and held the door open for his mother.

Frigga stepped into her son's room and surveyed the mess without a word. She simply let out a small sigh and picked her way to a couch, sitting down gracefully.

Loki did not join her, leaning back against the closed door as he waited for his mother to scold him for making a mess. Nothing was said for a long while. Loki grew impatient. "Well?" he asked irritably, glancing at his mother expectantly as he crossed his arms.

"Loki, I already am well aware that there is no point in trying to wheedle information out of you. You will deflect my questions and concerns no matter how I ask you what is wrong," Frigga said gently. "I must simply wait for you to tell me, in your own time."

Loki was silent for a moment, surprised. Then he let out a long breath, slightly relieved that his mother knew him so well. Slumped, he hung his head and dragged his feet over to the couch next to his mother. He took the seat next to her and gave her a sad look. "Mother… I've done something incredibly stupid," he said quietly.

"Not exactly a first," Frigga observed mildly, but gave him a soft, encouraging smile.

Loki shrugged. "And I regret what I've done now."

"That is a first," Frigga raised her eyebrows in mock shock.

Loki smiled a little bit, but sadness still dominated his mood. "I don't know what to do to remedy it," he continued.

A few moments of contemplative silence. Frigga continued to wait. She knew Loki would eventually come out with whatever it was that was distressing him. He was a bit like a stray cat; he had to come to you. He would lash out angrily if you tried to come to him… but if you waited long enough, he would come to you and allow you to be close to him.

Loki was thinking very carefully about how to tell his mother his problem. If he told her that he had met a lady that he had feelings for, she would, of course, want to meet her… which was out of the question. But he desperately wanted to tell someone about his feelings at the moment, and his mother was the only person he felt like he could do so with. He was between a rock and a hard place.

Very slowly, he said, "Mother… I've met… someone." He waited for his mother's reaction. She gave none. "And… I… have deep feelings for her. I…" Loki trailed off, reluctant to say it, but unable to think of any other way to say it without using the 'L' word. "I may be falling for her," he breathed.

Frigga still said nothing, but inside, she was exploding with pride and joy. She had begun to wonder when Loki would ever find anyone to be close to. Thor she had never worried about; he had friends, and had no trouble with talking to anyone (either ladies or lords)… but Loki was a bit of an outcast. She knew of no friends that he had. If Loki had finally found one person that had reached his heart, and stolen it, then she had hope that he might one day open up, and be happy.

"But I've done something stupid," Loki muttered as he glanced away from his mother's shining eyes. He felt such disgust for himself that he would probably be screaming profanities at himself if his mother wasn't in the room.

Frigga's heart sank slightly. She had almost forgotten about the fact that Loki was so distraught. She had been distracted by the thought of Loki falling for someone. "Loki, what has happened?" she asked quietly, speaking for the first time since he had begun opening up.

Loki buried his face in his hands. "I had the chance to let her know how I feel… and I didn't take it. And… I think… I think now she believes that I feel nothing for her."

The queen frowned slightly in worry. "Will you get another chance?"

Loki pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes and mumbled. "I don't know. Probably, yes… but I fear I've ruined any chance of our relationship going well."

Silence for a few moments.

"She was thanking me for everything I've done for her… and I told her she was welcome, and gave her a hug… and then…" Loki saw in his mind's eye as the scene played over again. "I was about to kiss her, but then I pulled away, gave her a kiss on the forehead, and left," he confessed miserably. "So now she'll think I consider her only a friend. No doubt I've harmed her feelings. I can't face her now. What am I to do?" he choked out.

Frigga felt pity for her son. She pulled him to her and wrapped him in an embrace, gently stroking his hair. "All will be well, Loki," she assured him. "You will find a way to ameliorate your relationship.

Loki allowed his mother to comfort him as he simply stewed in his emotions. He did not cry, but he felt like maybe he should. Still, he did not. His mother merely held him to her, like she had when he was younger, and Thor had bullied him. But those days were gone, and Loki's problems were much more complicated.

A few minutes later, Loki lay across the couch with his head in his mother's lap while she continued to softly stroke his face and hair.

"What should I do, Mother?" Loki asked helplessly, his eyes closed.

"You should explain yourself. Explain what you were feeling when you made the choice to not kiss her," Frigga suggested.

Loki let out a quiet scoff. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I felt afraid. I can't tell her that."

"Why were you afraid?" Frigga asked softly.

Loki sighed, thinking over the question. He felt afraid because Noir was a neko, and he was a prince of Asgard. He felt afraid because them even talking was forbidden, let alone… whatever it was that Loki and Noir had now. And a kiss—or anything more—was simply unthinkable. "You wouldn't understand," he murmured. "You don't know her."

"Who is she?" Frigga asked, finally sighing and letting the question slip out.

Loki didn't answer. "You don't know her."

"Will she be coming to the ball in two days' time? I should like to meet her. Perhaps you can ameliorate your relationship with her there. It would be appropriate," Frigga advised.

But Loki was still hung up on the first bit the queen had said. He opened his eyes and looked up at her, frowning. "What ball?"

Frigga smiled. "Someone has certainly been listening closely, haven't they?"

Loki pulled a face. "What ball?" he repeated.

"Your father is holding a ball. It has been planned for a number of weeks now, Loki. Your father was considering postponing it due to the realm's sudden difficulties with the nekos, but he decided that he would continue with the celebration as planned."

Loki blinked. "Ah. I had forgotten."

"I gathered as much," Frigga laughed lightly. "So will your lady be going to the ball?"

Loki didn't answer, thinking very carefully about the question.

Two figures sat in shadow in a very dimly-lit room. The only light came from two dancing flames in candelabra that held three candles. The middle candle had burned out, the faint smoke twisting as it curled into the air between the two figures as they stared across the otherwise empty table at each other. The only window in the room was covered by heavy black curtains, obscuring the night sky and stifling the faint evening breeze.

"You're saying Chatte Noir Soir's daughter is not only alive, but you know where she is?"

"I think so."

"You think so…?"

"Unless they were caught, then yes, I do."

"And you want her to join the revolution."

"Yes. And Chatte Marron Arable, too. She's with Chatte Noir Etoile in the palace. They would be assets… and I don't want them in the line of fire when… things get messy."

"Yes… Does Chatte Noir Soir know that her daughter still lives?"

"No. And Etoile doesn't know that I know where her mother is. She probably thinks she's either still enslaved or dead."

"Right… I'm sure Soir would be rather distraught to know that, one, you knew where her daughter was… and two, that she was in the line of fire during the chaos that will soon occur."

"I know. Which is why we need to get both Etoile and Arable to our side. They've been a little… deluded by the charms of the younger prince of Asgard. But they can still help, once they hear about the true cause. And Etoile will definitely join us once she learns of her mother. And Arable will follow, of course."

"…And when, Chatte Blanc Lune, do you plan on bringing them here?"

Blanc toyed with the frayed hems of his white fingerless gloves and looked up to meet the umber eyes of the large neko that sat across the long, empty table from him. The neko had dark red-brown hair; the same color as his ears and tail. He was clothed in a completely black outfit, tight, which accentuated his muscular form. He was broad, and his presence was one of authority and intimidation.

This was the neko rebel leader: Chatte Rouge Catalysseur.

Blanc took a deep breath. "I have a plan…"

Noir and Marron had agreed to not speak of their experiences alone with their respective princes of Asgard. It hadn't really been an agreement; more like… a silent understanding. After a few attempts to get the other to talk, they had both realized that no information was going to be spilled.

So in silence, they finished their dinner and readied themselves for bed.

"Do you think we'll see Prince Thor and Prince Loki tomorrow?" Marron asked as she snuggled herself into her warm blankets. She had never slept in such agreeable accommodations and sighed when her head hit the feather pillow.

Noir, who was across the room attending to the lamp, shrugged. "I would think so. Prince Loki said he'd come at least twice a day, and Prince Thor said he'd be back tomorrow." She doused the lamp and edged through the darkness to the bunk bed before nimbly swinging up and snuggling into her own blankets.

"Do you think Prince Loki will really manage to get things sorted out with the revolution? Do you think he can convince his father to revoke the decree?"

Noir sighed. "I don't know. I hope so." But she could hardly think of the neko revolution or the decree. All she could think of was Loki's hand gently touching her cheek, and running down her hair, and burying her face in his shoulder… And the unnamable emotion in his eyes when he was only an inch away from her… and the feeling of his shaky breath on her lips as he pulled away from her before their lips met.

Why? She couldn't fathom it. She had thought… she had thought… that maybe her metaphoric lock picking skills had finally paid off. That maybe Loki returned the feelings she felt for him. But then that moment of conflict in his eyes, and he let out a shaky breath and had pulled away. And then Noir's heart felt like it had just been dropped onto the floor. She decided she must have done something wrong. There had to be something wrong with her, and that was why… why she had been left alone so abruptly.

She shuddered and curled into a ball under her covers, hating herself for whatever she had or hadn't done, for whatever she was or wasn't. Whatever it was about her that Loki didn't approve of, she hated.

Such were her thoughts as she fell asleep, drifting into a dreamland.

Noir was shaken awake in the middle of the night, and she could hear frantic whispering.

"Get up! Etoile, hurry!" she heard her mother urging her.

Noir sat up and blinked her wide gray eyes. "M-mother, what's going on?"

"You and your brother are leaving," her mother hissed before moving on to the next bed, which held her brother Chatte Gris Fumar. He was woken in the same manner his older sister had been, and then their mother put a hand on each of their shoulders.

"You are leaving," she said in a hushed voice. "We have worked together, and you will be able to go. Follow me," she ordered, and then turned and beckoned for her children to follow her out of the small slaves' quarters. Noir threw a confused look to Gris and trailed after her mother. Gris was right behind her.

The two children caught up to her quickly.

"Mother, what's going-?" Gris started to ask, but he was cut off by his mother.

"Gris, don't ask questions. Keep quiet," she whispered.

A minute later, she pulled them to stand against a wall of another building,, hidden in shadow. "Just wait," she breathed nearly inaudibly.

The three watched as a man came into view, walking with a lantern. The children glanced up to their mother in the dark. This was nothing new; it was just the hourly perimeter check of the plantation. The two neko children knew by now that they were supposed to be inside whenever these perimeter checks were in progress; they didn't want to be whipped. They had learned that lesson long ago. So why was their mother taking them outside now, when the plantation watchman was on his rounds?

Suddenly, a dark figure dashed out from the building the mother and children were leaned against, and there was a cry of anger. There was a dull thud, and suddenly the watchman fell to the ground.

"Soir, now!" the figure that had run out of the building demanded.

The children's hands were grabbed by their mother, and she dragged them along as she dashed off, ushering them under the barbed fence of the plantation. "Etoile, Gris, go! I'll follow and explain in a moment!"

The young gray neko went first, followed by his sister. Their mother followed quickly and seized their hands, dashing away again.

"Mother, where are we going?!" Noir asked fearfully, knowing that the watchman had been killed somehow, but not understanding how or why.

Her mother drew to a stop at the edge of a dusty cobblestone road. "Here… I have to leave you here," she said breathlessly. "You will have to follow this road. It will take you to the city. Wait a few minutes… You won't be the only ones," she added.

"Mother," Noir breathed. "What is going on?"

Chatte Noir Soir leaned down and met her daughter's eyes, the eyes that she had inherited from her mother. "You two… listen carefully. The adults have been working together and planning for some time. Chatte Rouge Soleil managed to get his hands on a dagger… and he killed the watchman so that the children could escape the plantation. There should be more coming… at least three or four, depending on how quickly the warden realizes what happened—"

She was cut off by the sound of shouting and clanging in the distance, back at the plantation. Her eyes widened.

"Gods, they've already… I've got to get back," she muttered. "Wait here for five minutes, and if no one else shows up, then go. As fast as you can, to the city."

"What do we do when we get there?" Gris piped up, his voice high-pitched in fright.

"You can make it," Soir assured her children, then brushed her lips to both their cheeks in turn. "I love you. Perhaps I'll see you again someday… But don't come looking for me. Don't squander the sacrifice we have made today for you." She turned and sprinted away.

"Mother!" Gris started to step after his mother, but Noir grabbed his shoulder.

"Gris, weren't you listening?!" the young girl demanded. "She said to stay here for five minutes, and then leave."

"Noir, what's going on?" Gris asked in a whisper.

"I… I suppose they're trying to save us from their fate as plantation slaves," Noir murmured. "And… she said more would be coming, right? We're supposed to wait for five minutes."

"But I don't want to leave our mother behind," Gris said fearfully, his voice becoming wobbly as tears started to fill his stormy eyes.

"She said we'll be alright," Noir said, though inside, she felt horribly unsure. But she had to be strong for her little brother.

The night was suddenly rent with a terrified scream, coming from the plantation. It sounded like a child. Then what sounded like adults shouting in outrage.

Gris's hand gripped his older sister's tighter. The two stood, rooted to the spot, paralyzed with fear. Suddenly, they saw a light… and then it grew. They could see that the plantation was now aflame. Buildings were quickly being consumed by the voracious fire. Noir and Gris stared in horror.

Noir slowly took a step back, taking her brother with her. "We have to go now, Gris," she said, sounding stricken.

"But—"

"There's no one else coming, Gris," she hissed. "There's no one…" She glanced to her little brother. She could see the dancing flames reflected in his tear-filled eyes. "We have to go!" the black-haired girl repeated, squeezing her eyes shut to prevent her own tears.

The siblings turned and started to run down the cobblestone road. Their steps faltered as they heard another scream rend the air from behind them. Gris turned back, but Noir shook her head vigorously. "Gris, this is the only way… the only way we stand a chance," she whimpered. "This is what Mother wanted."

Gris looked up at his sister imploringly. "Will we see our mother again?" he asked doubtfully.

Noir pinched her thin lips together. "I don't know."

"Noir!" someone was shaking her awake, and the black neko opened her eyes, sitting up abruptly.

"W-what—where-?!" she asked frantically. It took her a moment to take stock of the situation. Sheets were tangled around her ankles, and the room was lit by a single lamp, held by Marron.

Noir let out a shuddering breath, realizing she had been dreaming of the last time she had seen her mother, and the fateful day she had been forced into the life of a bandit. She blinked a few times, and wiped her cheeks. They were wet with tears. Noir closed her eyes. "Oh, gods…" she muttered.

"Noir, are you alright?" Marron asked worriedly. She crawled up onto Noir's bed, holding the lamp carefully.

"Bad dream," she whispered.

"You've never had them before," Marron said in a hushed voice. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I was just dreaming about my mother and Gris," Noir murmured. "Go back to sleep."

"No," Marron protested. "I don't want you to be afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Noir shook her head. "It wasn't a scary dream."

"Then I don't want you to be sad," Marron rephrased.

Noir smiled softly. "Marron… I'm fine. It's just not the best memory I have, and reliving it was a bit of a shock. I haven't dreamed about that for a long time."

Marron simply nodded. Then she patted the bed, indicating that Noir should lie down. With a wry smile, Noir did so. Marron then carefully dropped the lamp to the ground, still lit, and lay next to her friend. She gave her a comforting hug, then simply settled herself next to Noir. Noir smiled at Marron, then closed her eyes to pretend to sleep again. After a couple minutes, Marron's breath slowed, and Noir knew she was asleep.

The black neko opened her eyes again and slid to the edge of the bed. She dropped to the floor and put her feet in her boots. She grabbed her black cloak, lit an extra lamp, and went to the door, praying she wouldn't end up as a repeat of Marron's little escapade. But she knew, as long as she could find her way to Loki's room, she would be fine. She just hoped she could find her way to Loki's room. It was the middle of the night.

But she simply had to see him.

Note from LoquaciousQuibbler: What is it with me, anyway? Smeg it, LQ, you just can't quit with ending with leaving people on the edge of their seats, can you? *sigh* Ah, well. I know, I know, you guys are gonna yell at me to update quickly…

So, anyways, this chapter. Not my favorite so far… Note to self: don't do chapters where there is no Loki/Noir interaction… well, there will be plenty in the next chapter. In any case, I liked some parts of this chapter… D'aww Loki and Frigga moments for the win! :)D Poor Loki. All… helpless and pitiable. And I thought it was kinda funny to compare him to a stray cat… but, well, it's a little accurate, I think. Poor Frigga has no idea what Loki is having to go through right now… well, a general idea. But she does not yet have any idea that it is a neko her son has been falling for. ;)

And did I totally just hint that there will be a ball soon? …Perhaps. More on that later.

And then perhaps some foreshadowing with Blanc and the rebel leader…

And a flashback/dream sequence of Noir, her brother, and her mother… kind of sad. Can't imagine what it would have been like when they got to the city and had to start making their living. And now… she wishes to seek Loki out.

What shall happen? *adopts television announcer voice* Tune in next time to find out!

To everyone: The Night Whisperer has now dubbed the ThorxMarron pairing… Evidently we are calling them Thorron now. XD Made me laugh that she took it upon herself to name them. I don't mind though, my friend. ;)

Please favorite, follow, and review. Perhaps this will be the first time I ever get one hundred reviews on a story…? ;)