*I hope you guys all had a wonderful Christmas. I got a huge amount of my favorite candy, so I quite happy with that *hearts* but I hope you all were happy with your gifts/family get-togethers/whatever you do to celebrate. Anyways, on with the chapter.

Cajolery

A young boy stood on the balcony too his room, looking at the view and scowling. A frown creased his brow, and the smoky wind ruffled his raven hair. His blue eyes were focused in the distance, on a blazing fire beyond the outskirts of the city.

"Loki?" a woman's voice asked behind him.

The young prince jumped, and he turned to see Frigga, his mother.

"Hello, Mother… Come look," he beckoned for her to join him at the balcony railing, watching the fire.

The queen curiously stepped forward and looked out. Her lips pursed slightly.

"What's going on?" Loki asked curiously.

Frigga hummed. "It appears there may have been an accident at one of the plantations… or a minor revolt by the slaves… they do it occasionally. Sometimes the Aesir slaves, but more often the nekos," she explained.

Loki quirked an eyebrow. "Why do they revolt?"

"They do not like their treatment," Frigga said simply.

"Are they treated badly?" Loki queried.

Frigga considered. "It depends on the plantation owner… but yes, for the most part, they are treated badly," she admitted. "But they are only enslaved after committing a crime, so serving on the plantation is their punishment." She glanced away from the distant fire and looked down at her younger son. "Do you think that is justifiable, Loki?"

Loki looked back out over the fire. It was so far away, it could not affect him except for the minor aroma of smoke. What happened to neko slaves on plantations so far away you could hardly see them made no difference in his life. What should he care if they were treated badly? "I suppose it justifies it," he said slowly. "If they are enslaved for doing wrong, then they are certainly supposed to be punished," he nodded. He looked carefully at the blaze, beyond his own little world. He mused about the idea for a moment. "But then, I've never met a neko," he shrugged dismissively. He looked back up at his mother. "So… Did you want to speak with me, Mother?"

Frigga nodded slowly. "You did not attend dinner tonight," she observed. "I wished to come ask you why."

Loki's face crinkled in disgust. "Because I don't like Thor anymore, that's why."

Frigga chuckled softly. "You don't like Thor anymore? What does that make, the fifth time this month?"

Loki huffed. "You know how he is, Mother. He was being obnoxiouser…" he paused. "I mean, more obnoxious, than usual," he corrected himself.

Frigga smiled. "Perhaps you should accept that that is simply the way Thor acts sometimes, Loki."

The boy sighed heavily. "Which is why I don't think I'll be attending dinner anymore. He always teases me. Says he's older, and he's going to be king someday, and he has more friends than me, and he's better with practice fighting, so he's better than me," Loki listed mutinously under his breath.

Frigga shook her head. "Loki, Thor may be better than you at some things, but never think that he is better than you," she chastised him gently. "You have your own skills and talents, don't you?"

Loki looked dubious. "Like…?"

Frigga sighed in mild exasperation with her son. "Have you not been studying sorcery? You have the gift of that. Your brother does not. And does Thor do any reading? No, you do. Thor may possess a sharper blade than you, but you seek to sharpen your mind," she reached forward and gently tapped her son's forehead with a fingertip.

Loki smiled faintly at his mother's praise. "I am… kind of hungry," he admitted finally.

"Then let us go, and we'll request you something from the kitchens," she led the way off the balcony.

Loki did not follow immediately. He threw a last glance to the flaming plantation so far off… the lives that went on there, and the slaves and their bad treatment, none of it had any effect on him. He nodded and turned away, not sparing another thought to the slaves on the plantation.

Leagues away from the young prince, two small figures stumbled down the dusty cobblestone path to the city. Noir Etoile's small hand gripped tightly to the even smaller one of Gris Fumar.

"Noir, how much further is it?" Gris asked hoarsely.

Noir shook her head. "I don't know, Gris… she just said to follow the path," she choked.

The smoke from the plantation fire was wafting through the air, making it difficult for the young nekos to find their way. But after what seemed like far too long, the two ambled into the outskirts of the city.

The two had never been to the city before. Their mother had. Their mother had told them a few times about living as a street thief in the big city. But her children were lost as to how to begin their own lives as such.

Groaning, they collapsed into an empty alleyway in between two grimy-looking hovels.

"Noir, what are we going to do?" Gris asked helplessly.

Noir sighed. "Gris, I… don't know… you keep asking like I'll know what we're supposed to do."

"You're supposed to know," he said resentfully. "You're the older one. You're supposed to be the one who knows what to do."

Noir huffed and stood, going to the mouth of the alley and looking out. "Untrue, Gris," she muttered mutinously. "Just because you're younger doesn't mean you're not worth anything. Sometimes I need your help, too. Sometimes I'm supposed to be the leader. But sometimes the younger shouldn't just rely on the older. Sometimes I think the younger one should take a stand," she said over her shoulder at Gris.

Gris's face twisted into a frown, and he was obviously trying not to burst into tears.

Noir sighed and looked away. She didn't like making her little brother cry. But he couldn't just assume she would always know what to do, either. She looked up and around the street. Her eyes settled on the gigantic golden structure off in the distance. She knew it was the palace. She knew it was where the royal family lived… the ones who were responsible for the nekos' slavery, as Noir Soir had always said darkly under her breath.

Noir swallowed, looking at the distant intimidating building. The tips of her cat ears twitched. She'd like to tell those royals exactly what she thought of the nekos' enslavement. But she never would be able to. The palace, and the people whose lives went on there, were beyond her understanding, and beyond her recognition. She and the palace were separated by only a few short leagues of city. But that was still worlds apart.

"They've set fire to all the plantations," the queen's voice whispered in horror.

"No doubt they've now freed all the nekos enslaved there," Lady Sif added darkly. "Which means that those freed will join the rebellion… we'll soon have an army on our hands," she spat mutinously.

The king was already deploying guards to get to the plantations as fast as was physically possible, and to salvage what products from the plantations they could, as well as capture any nekos in the premises.

Loki listened to none of it, staring out the window at the fire. He recalled the last time he had watched a plantation burn. Now the fire was far greater… there was more than just one plantation burning. And he felt a tightness in his heart. Lives were probably being lost there right now. Like Noir's kin. Noir could have been on that plantation. He realized it wasn't just Noir… the nekos, including the enslaved ones on the plantations, were people. Noir wasn't the only neko. She wasn't the only one with a personality, and a smile, and a sense of humor. He was kidding himself if he thought the only one that mattered was Noir.

He swallowed back the bitter taste in his mouth and turned from the window, heading out into the halls. He had to find Noir and tell her he was truly willing to fight for the nekos' rights. The neko revolts and rebellions were not the way to do it, of course. But neither was Odin's simply ignoring the problem. Now… where was Noir? She had disappeared from the ballroom… maybe she had gone back to his chambers with Marron.

He pulled the green handkerchief out of his pocket. The tracing spell had, of course, faded off by now. The spell faded once the two objects were reunited, and Noir and Loki had been reunited at the ball. But he could still use this handkerchief.

He focused on the two handkerchiefs that Noir wore around her neck, eyes closed. He opened his eyes and nodded determinedly when he saw the green cloth in his hand glowing softly. It tugged him along, and he walked through the palace.

To his relief, he was being led back to his chambers. "Thank goodness," he muttered as he turned into the passage to his chambers, and the handkerchief glowed brighter. He stepped forward and turned the door handle, throwing it open.

"Noir? Marron?" he called as he stepped into the sitting room. "I'm back. Sorry about the commotion at the ball…" he trailed off, looking around. He did not see either girl.

He frowned and took a few more steps in. He did not see them anywhere. Puzzled, he looked down at the handkerchief in his hands. It still glowed brightly enough to tell him he was near his intended destination.

"Hello?" he called again, trying to pinpoint exactly where the two handkerchiefs were. The spell pulled him gently off to the right, and he followed the faint tug. He stopped in front of the open door to his dressing room. He stepped in nervously. No one was in this room. So why had the spell led him here?

And then he saw the two piles of neatly folded clothes in the corner… Noir and Marron's clothes. The clothes they had been wearing before they changed into the dresses he had provided for them. Loki stepped forward and saw the two tied-together green handkerchiefs atop the folded tunic, next to Noir's black leather boots. She had taken them off when she changed her clothes… and she hadn't made it back to his room to put it back on.

"Blast," he muttered apprehensively. Then where was his little neko?

Noir gasped as a hand grabbed her wrist and yanked it as she started to slow her stride discreetly.

"None of that," a voice hissed.

"Quit manhandling her," another voice hissed angrily.

"She's trying to slip away," the first voice sneered.

"Hmph."

Noir let her gaze drop to the ground. She recognized both voices. Both were male voices. The second one, the one that had said to stop manhandling her, was Blanc Lune… her friend and partner-in-crime. Her heart sank. She had known he was a rebel ever since the first revolt… but still. Hearing his voice coming from under a black hood as his hand wrapped around Marron's upper arm, tugging her along, was something different from simply knowing something in her mind.

"Let me trade you places, sir," Blanc said after a moment of silence.

The first voice grunted, and the hold on Noir's wrist was released. The two black-cloaked figures traded places, and now a new hand wrapped around Noir's wrist.

"How could you do this?" Noir hissed immediately.

"Do what?" he asked coolly.

"Blanc!" Noir said desperately. "This is insane! You just broke into the palace, made a scene, and for what? To make a statement for your little rebellion?"

"No. To create a distraction to further our little rebellion," Blanc snapped. "And I don't see why you're not overjoyed at the idea of getting our rightful place—"

"We're not getting our rightful place this way, you imbecile!" Noir snapped. "This only creates trouble!"

Blanc's grip on her wrist tightened to the point of it actually hurting. "You don't get it, Noir… You don't see it like I do… you will soon."

Noir shook her head in disgust. "Where are you taking us?"

"You'll see." That wasn't Blanc who had spoken. It was the other figure, who was leading Marron along.

Noir swallowed. "Who are you? Are you… Chatte Rouge Soleil?"

"No. I changed my last name. I am now Chatte Rouge Catalysseur; leader of the neko rebellion," he said smoothly.

Noir's brow furrowed. He called himself Catalysseur. Catalyst. Something or someone that precipitated an event or a change. She had known him before as Chatte Rouge Soleil… back when she lived on the plantation with her mother and brother. According to her mother, Rouge was the one that had helped with setting up the children's escape… the one who had gotten ahold of the dagger to kill the watchman in order to provide said escape.

And now… he was the leader of the neko revolution.

Blanc suddenly stiffened, and he tugged the green handkerchief tied around Noir's wrist. "Did you get this from him?" he growled.

Self-consciously, she tried to pull her hand out of Blanc's grasp. "What do you care?"

"He can trace us if you have this," he spat, and tore the cloth from Noir's wrist and tossed it off to the side, fluttering in the wind before settling on the dirty cobblestones.

Noir's mouth dropped open in shock. "Blanc, you-!"

"Quiet," Rouge ordered. "We're getting close."

A few minutes later, the group of around twenty nekos stopped in front of a dilapidated villa on the outskirts of the richer district, only a street or two away from where the grand houses turned to small shacks and hovels.

Rouge let go of Marron, shoving her over to another black-cloaked figure for guarding, and then he stepped up to the scarred wooden door and knocked in a rhythmic fashion. A moment passed, and then it was opened.

"Catalysseur, sir," a male voice said respectfully, swinging the door wide enough for the nekos to enter.

Catalysseur entered first, and the other black-cloaked figures followed. Noir and Marron, along with their respective escorts, entered last.

The interior of the villa was dark, lit only by a couple of scant lanterns and candles, barely penetrating the darkness. And it was crowded by the number of nekos.

"Chatte Rouge Catalysseur is back!" someone called triumphantly. The nekos who had gone to the palace then began to mingle with those who had already been in the room.

A couple people let out 'welcome back's and ''good's, but most were quiet.

"Why is everyone so gloomy?" Catalysseur asked smoothly, lowering his hood. The other nekos seemed to take this as permission to let down their cowls, too, and so they lowered their hoods.

"The others aren't back from the plantations, sir," someone piped up.

Rouge nodded his head.

Noir stared. She did know the rebel leader… from so long ago… in a previous life. He was older now, of course. His dusky red-brown hair was the same, but shorter now. He had neatened up his moustache. Noir recalled him as the gruff man who worked at the plantation… he and her mother had been friends, but Noir herself had never interacted with him much. And now here he was again, changed. But then, she realized, she had changed drastically, too.

"They'll be back soon," Rouge said confidently. "Soir won't let us down."

Noir's gray eyes flashed at that declaration. Had he just said… Soir?

"What happened at the palace?" someone called.

"It went well enough," someone else shrugged from the crowd. "We got what we went for, and distracted the king for what we hope was long enough… the plantations were already going up in flame by the time we left, but if the others aren't back, then we still don't have anything to celebrate."

"Sure we do," Blanc called. "We got these two, at least," he nodded to Marron and Noir, who froze nervously.

"Who are they, anyway?" a brown female neko asked curiously.

"Friends of mine," Blanc said shortly. "New recruits."

Noir and Marron stared at Blanc. "What?" they asked flatly.

Blanc looked at them. "You'll be joining the rebellion now that you're here."

The girls exchanged bewildered and outraged looks.

Blanc was then slapped by Marron, and then shoved roughly by Noir.

"We never agreed to this!" Marron protested shrilly. "No one asked you to kidnap us from where we were!"

Blanc shot them dirty looks, rubbing his cheek where Marron had slapped him, and now leaning against the wall he had stumbled back against when Noir pushed him. By now the other nekos were watching interestedly, like spectators at a show; amused and yet detached from the action taking place.

"What gives you the right to bring us here and just tell us we're joining the rebellion?" Noir snapped. "We didn't want-!"

"Oh, you'll want to," Blanc cut in. "Believe me. Just wait. You're joining, both of you."

"What exactly is the backstory with you three?" someone asked from the crowd, sounding mildly entertained. "Just for a little background to make this more enjoyable."

The three young nekos glanced around darkly.

Catalysseur now stepped in. "Blanc, you led me to believe that these two would be quite willing to join the rebellion… isn't that part of the whole reason we retrieved them from the palace?"

Blanc growled. "They'll join willingly… just wait."

"Can we talk to Blanc alone?" Noir snapped, and Marron nodded vigorously.

Someone in the crowd snickered. "I've got a feeling if we let the girls alone with the little rat, then we may have the trouble of having to hide his body once they're done with him…"

There was a knock on the door; the same not-quite-regular beat on the wood startling everyone.

Someone moved to open the door and threw it open. "Soir," someone called. "About bloody time."

A group of nekos in black cloaks, as well as nekos in slaves' tunics of burlap poured through the door.

"We've got new recruits," the woman leading the mass announced, and Noir stopped dead at the voice. "The plantations have been burned to a crisp, and we only lost two of our own. On the other hand, we've brought new recruits as well," the woman said breezily. "The guards were just arriving from the palace when we left… so I take it the other mission went well?"

Catalysseur nodded in the affirmative. "It did. Their little get-together became pandemonium in a matter of seconds, and we made our little statement to the king… and then we managed to get our two recruits from there as well."

Soir let out a hum of acknowledgment, obviously not particularly impressed. "You mean Blanc's little friends he's been going on and on about? I'd like to meet them."

Blanc let out a low chuckle and said under his breath, "Oh, Soir, if only you knew just how much you want to meet them…" He then raised his voice. "They're over here, Soir."

The woman turned to the corner the young nekos stood in. "Ah, good."

Noir Voleuse stared. Noir Soir… her mother. Was… here. Right here in front of her. A rebel… but most importantly, alive. As she drew closer to inspect her and Marron, she felt her heart tighten in her chest. She hadn't seen her mother since that night she escaped the plantation with Gris. She had always assumed she had died either in the skirmish and blaze that followed, or had died from the usual slave starvation, overwork, or vicious beatings. But… she hadn't.

Soir drew closer to inspect them, squinting her gray eyes to see them through the darkness. And then she froze. "…E—Et—Etoile…?"

Noir couldn't speak, staring and lost for words. And then suddenly a pair of hands gripped hers, and she was pulled into a crushing embrace by her long-lost mother. And for the moment, the daughter had absolutely not one thought of the rebellion, or the kidnapping, or even of Loki.

Note from LoquaciousQuibbler: Oh, gods, everyone get nervous! Noir is distracted from Loki for two seconds! Be afraid; be very afraid… nah just kidding :P But seriously.

And just so you know… they are calling her Etoile because she has not yet told them that she has changed her last name. Don't worry; I haven't forgotten or anything. She just hasn't told them yet.

And the beginning of this chapter… what did you think of it? I just wanted to have a little moment of their thoughts when they were younger, thinking that something was too far-off, too above you, or too below you to even really exist… like Loki's just like… well, the nekos and their lives don't affect me… so I guess it's okay. And Noir looking at the palace… she's really rather close to it, but they're worlds apart. It's like us, walking through Hollywood. We're only a mile or two away from some famous celebrity, yet still worlds apart. So yeah.

Argh and Loki looking for Noir… but she left her kerchief of his handkerchiefs in his room… and then Blanc threw away her other one *runs around in a circle in a panic* WHAT ARE WE GONNA DOOOOOO?!

Well, darlings, we'll see. ;)

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