*Hello, everybody! So, since I am now officially done with one of my other multi-chapter fics, I can put more focus on this story! *puts on cat ear headband excitedly* Okeydokey, my little lambs, here we are again! I know the last few chapters have been getting relatively slow… I'm attempting to pick up a little slack with this chapter, where there's some more going on. We're gonna get back to some action relatively soon, I promise!

Sorcery

Loki walked through the halls of the palace, taking careful steps. He didn't want to draw too much attention to himself right now. He didn't want to be stopped.

Thor's assertion of the idea that Noir or Marron would be thrown into the dungeons if they tried to come back had stuck with him. Maybe the girls had been kidnapped, and maybe Loki had no way to find Noir using magic. But maybe he could find her some other way. After all, he knew somewhere in his heart that Noir didn't want to be in the rebellion. If she had, in fact, been kidnapped, as he and Thor had theorized, then she would be trying to leave. But once Noir escaped, what was she to do? He had some hope that she would try to return to the palace, and to him. If that were the case, then she would have to try and find some way into the palace again, or find some way to tell Loki where she was. But there was no way for her to do either of those things. But Noir was determined. He was sure that she would try.

But such attempts may have very well have ended with her clapped in irons and thrown into a cell with any other nekos who actually did want the revolution to succeed.

And, of course, if that was the case, then Loki would find her out in the prison with the other nekos who had been captured. He was sure that the soldiers had captured a few nekos, assuming they were rebels. Maybe Noir had been, too.

And so he headed to the prisons. Not the royal high-security dungeons, of course. Those were only for the true criminals. But Odin had ordered that the nekos be thrown into the stockades where thieves and pickpockets to be sold into slavery were held. He smiled wryly. The very place he had been just days ago, worrying that Noir had been captured. And here he was again, thinking that she may have been thrown into a cell for punishment.

His steps quickened slightly as he got nearer to the stockades. There were guards milling about in pairs or groups, going in or out of the prison. All the activity made Loki's heart tighten. Yes, surely a number of people had been captured to cause so much hubbub in the prison.

As he walked up to the front doors of the prison, the four guards stationed there stood to attention.

"Prince Loki," the lead guard said curtly. "Can we help you?"

"I ask for entrance into the prison so I may see the rebels that have been captured," Loki answered shortly, feeling his stomach flip at the thought of referring to Noir as a rebel.

The men glanced at each other uncomfortably. "We have… been given direct orders from the king," the leader said slowly.

Loki narrowed his eyes, waiting for the rest of the response.

"…We are not to let you interact with any of the rebels," the guard finished.

Loki's heart dropped. His fist clenched, and he fought the urge to shove past the guards anyway. Instead, though, he just tightened his jaw and spun on his heel, not saying another word as he started to walk away, not particularly caring where he ended up. Noir might be in that prison. He might be able to get her out. But only if he could get in. And evidently that wasn't happening any time soon. Maybe Thor could get in. His steps slowed for a moment at the thought. Maybe Thor could—

He looked up. He had walked off into a side street down from the prison.

"Did you want to see the cat-fighters, too?" a voice asked somewhere off to his left.

Loki turned quickly. A young boy looked up at him perceptively, peeking out from an alleyway.

"I've been watching the cat-fighters get put in the prison all day," the boy declared. "But no one will let me get close. I think they're interesting looking, don't you? The cat-fighters, I mean."

Loki frowned and knelt down to the boy's eye level, trying to remember how his mother had always acted when talking to him when he was younger. Trying not to come off as intimidating or superior or condescending to the child. He wanted to be friendly for once, in the hopes this boy might be able to help him. He dropped to the boy's level and looked him in the eyes. "You've been watching them get brought into the prison all day?" he asked.

The boy nodded. "Ever since this morning, when I saw one up close. Mother said that cat-fighter was planning to kidnap someone or steal from someone, or to even kill someone, and—"

Loki forced a smile as the boy rambled on for a moment. "And then you saw her get taken to the prison?"

The boy nodded again excitedly. "That's the only time I've seen one up close. And then I came here and I've been watching the guards bring them in all day. But I can't get close. I think they're interesting looking, don't you?"

Loki nodded. "I do think so. Now, I know you haven't been able to see them up close, but did you see if any of them were girls with black hair and gray eyes, in a white dress?" he asked slowly.

The boy frowned, scratching his chin in thought. "Hmm. I don't know. Most of them were dressed in black. There were a few of them dressed in brown, and one was even dressed like an Aesir, in normal clothes…" he paused. "Cat-fighters don't wear dresses, do they?" he queried.

"Sometimes they do," Loki smiled faintly, feeling his heart twinge. "You didn't see one in a white dress, though, did you?"

The boy shrugged. "I'm not sure. I'd like to get a closer look."

Loki glanced back towards the prison down the street. "Would you?"

The boy nodded vigorously.

"…Young man," Loki said. "What is your name?"

"Saklauss," the boy provided promptly.

"Well, Saklauss," Loki smiled, the gears in his head turning and whirring as he was already developing a plan in his mind. "I am Prince Loki. And how would you like to help me? Because I assure you, Saklauss, I can get you a very up-close look at some of the nekos if you do a favor for me."

00000

Noir stared after Blanc leaving the room for a moment before turning her eyes back on the map of secret tunnels in and out of the palace. Blanc's words still rang in her head.

"I just… don't want to see you hurt by anyone. And Noir, I… Never mind. I know you don't care."

Implications of such words were endless. But Noir was frankly afraid of what it might mean. So she let her eyes wander over the map again, trying to formulate a plan. Notes accompanied each area of the map, along with a key. Labels and lines and arrows galore. So much information that could be used to either her advantage or the rebellion's.

Nervously, she glanced around the room and listened carefully for any footsteps. Nothing nearby. So she delicately wiggled the pin holding the map to the wall and let it fall into a small container holding other pins. And very carefully, she folded this map and tucked it into a pocket before deliberately strolling back to the door and walking out. If she ever found a way out of here, she would have a halfway decent plan for how to get back to Loki.

The thought made her pause. What had Marron possibly done after she escaped?

00000

Marron sat curled up in the corner of a cell in the prison, sniffling. She knew it hadn't been more than possibly a few hours, but it felt like she had been trapped here for longer than an eternity, watching other nekos get marched past to be put in their own cells. None of them looked familiar. She suspected that, like herself, all these nekos that were being captured were innocent.

Well, innocent was a relative term, she supposed, but these nekos all appeared to be common pickpockets and thieves, not the revolutionaries that hid out in the villa. But, as all of them found out rather quickly, insisting "innocence" got nowhere. The guards wanted to hear nothing of the nekos' "innocence."

"King's orders," they said over and over again at the pleas shouted at them through prison bars.

So Marron simply sat silently except for her sniffles, hoping desperately that sometime soon, she could get out. But this time there wasn't going to be a heroic rescue from Blanc and Noir and Prince Loki. Thor and Loki probably thought she and Noir had betrayed them to join the rebels, and Noir was still trapped… and Blanc was one of the rebels.

She buried her head in her knees, feeling hopeless.

There were outraged shouts down the hall, hissing and yelling and jeering. Marron frowned and lifted her head slightly, her brown ears flicking and swiveling as she listened carefully to the angry accusations.

"—just a child! You can't imprison-!"

"Monster! That's just a boy-!"

"—surely you don't think he's a blasted rebel-?!"

The voices moved closer, and Marron realized it was the prisoners within the cells shouting as someone walked down the hall. It seemed the imprisoned nekos were shouting as a new captive was led to their cell. Marron frowned and found herself sitting up a little straighter to see what in the nine realms it could be that had everyone so ferocious.

And then she saw…. A guard had a firm hand clasped on the shoulder of his charge, a very young neko with gray tail and ears and blue eyes. She felt her blood start to boil. They had captured a young boy, claiming he was a rebel, and were throwing him in prison? How could they?

The guard and convict walked rather slowly through the hall. The guard, a man with blond hair and hazel eyes, seemed to be cautiously peering into each cell in the hopes of finding something important. And the young boy didn't seem at all scared or worried about being handcuffed and being led through a prison. In fact, he looked rather intrigued, looking at each of the other prisoners with a kind of curious fascination.

Marron frowned. Why did that young boy look familiar? The eyes… the eyes… the little neko boy's blue eyes… Slowly, she stood and shuffled over to the bars of her cell, though she didn't shout at the pair like the other prisoners were doing. Her eyes fixed on the boy while the guard still inspected the prisoner in another cell. "Young Chatte Gris?" Marron called quietly. She didn't know his last name, obviously, but she did know he was a Gris.

The boy didn't respond as if his name had been called. He continued peering at the other nekos.

"Gris?" Marron repeated.

The guard suddenly looked up and around quickly. He leaned down to the boy and whispered to him, "Saklauss! I told you, you are Gris!"

"Wha…? Oh, yes; I forgot," the boy said, blue eyes lighting up as he looked around.

Marron frowned in confusion. What was wrong here? The boy wasn't a Gris? There was something most definitely wrong here… The guard's eyes suddenly met hers, and they widened.

"Marron!" the man whispered, letting go of the young neko boy and dashing to the cell Marron was contained in.

Frightened, Marron staggered back. "I—I—"

"Ooh! I know that one!" the gray neko boy ran over to the cell as well, peering in at Marron. "Remember me? I saw you this morning! In the market!"

"Saklauss, keep it down," the guard hissed urgently. "Of course she doesn't remember you; you're… disguised." His eyes turned back to Marron. "Marron, is Noir here, too? Were you both captured, or did she make it?"

Marron blinked blankly, utterly lost in confusion. Saklauss… the name was familiar… and why did this guard know her? Or… why did he think he knew her?

"Marron, look, we don't have much time," the guard pressed.

"You don't think she remembers me because I'm disguised?" the boy looked up at the guard with his nose wrinkled. "But Prince Loki, you're disguised, too," he said haughtily.

The guard looked down at the boy, then at himself, and then finally at Marron. "Ah. Sorry," he muttered. "It's Loki," he whispered. "Look, I'm going to get you out of here, alright? Just—is Noir here, too, or—"

"What's going on here?" a gruff voice demanded angrily.

All three Saklauss, Marron, and Loki looked up sharply to see a large guard walking down the hall toward the little gathering. "Aren't you supposed to be taking that prisoner to his cell?"

"Yes, sir; I was just speaking with this prisoner," Loki, still in the guise of a guard, said quickly as he jerked a thumb at Marron.

"Well, get a move on," the guard snapped.

Loki bit the inside of his lip, mind whirling. "…I just need to…" he started to say faintly, glancing worriedly at Marron again.

"Then do whatever you need to while I take the runt to his cell," the other guard scoffed, stepping forward to grab the still-neko Saklauss.

"No, you can't-!" Loki stepped in front of Saklauss quickly, preventing him from being dragged off to a cell.

"I can't take a prisoner to a cell?" the other man asked in disbelief.

"He's not a…" Loki started to spit through gritted teeth before his eyes flicked to Marron. "Marron, where's Noir?" he finally just asked desperately.

"She's not here," Marron responded quickly, knowing that the game was up. "I managed to escape, but—"

"What the bloody blazes is going on here, soldier?" the other guard snarled, reaching forward to grab Loki's shoulder.

But Loki jumped back, still pushing Saklauss behind him protectively. He wasn't going to let the young boy get hurt here just because he was curious. Loki had gotten them both into this mess. But now he had to get them out. He glared at the guard and threw an apologetic look to Marron; something bitterly sad and disappointed in their situation. And then he glared at the guard. "Don't speak that way to a prince of Asgard; and you cannot take this boy to a prison cell."

There was a shimmer of light, and then instead of a blonde guard and a gray neko kit, there was Prince Loki and a young Aesir boy.

The guard's mouth fell open, and then hardened into an angry leer. "Prince Loki, were you not told to not be permitted entrance?"

"I wasn't permitted entrance," Loki sneered back. "A guard and a prisoner were granted entry."

The guard shook his head like a dog trying to rid itself of water from its ears. "You are to leave at once and not come in to associate yourself with the rebels anymore!" He stomped his foot in some kind of finality and pointed his arm back down the hall as an order for Loki to start walking.

The prince scoffed lightly and shook his head in disbelief. "Fine," he spat. He glanced back to Marron and mouthed something to her without saying his words aloud.

Marron frowned and shook her head quickly to show her lack of comprehension.

Loki pursed his lips and mouthed the words again as he raised his eyebrows. Then he laid a hand on the young boy's shoulder. "Come on," he muttered. "Let's go now."

The guard escorted Loki and Saklauss both back down to the entrance to the prison as Marron's brow knit together.

Saklauss's voice floated back down the hall, still not frightened or disappointed, but merely questioning. "…Shall I be getting in trouble for this, Prince Loki? You said we wouldn't get caught…"

"Hush," Loki's voice said tiredly. "You won't get in trouble. No one's getting in trouble."

Marron was still trying to figure out what it was that Loki had mouthed to her. Three words, perhaps… What had he said? Instructions for her to do something? Consolation of some kind? Secret information? She bit her lip as she tried to figure out exactly what words Loki had mouthed to her.

Then she figured it out… what Loki had wanted her to know.

I'll get Thor.

00000

"Blanc, please."

"I already told you no!"

"But—"

"It's one thing to simply not tell Catalysseur and Soir that you want to escape. Actually helping you accomplish said escape is something else entirely, and I'm not willing to do it."

"You've never been as adventurous as me, have you?"

"I'm not as insane as you."

"I'll take that as a compliment, actually. Now back to business. You're trying to distract me, aren't you? I won't have it. Blanc, you have to help me."

Blanc groaned, pressing the heels of his gloved hands into his eyes as he resisted the temptation to give in to the pleading Noir. No, not pleading. Demanding. She'd cornered him in one of the empty rooms furnished only with unoccupied cots, and was insisting that he help her.

"Look, you just have to help me make a plan," Noir said in a hushed voice. "You know how things work around here better than I do, don't you? So all you have to do is help me make a route out of here and help me figure out which way I should go from here to the palace."

"You just want me to help you leave again!" Blanc hissed. "Just want to get to the bloody palace…"

"It's a better alternative than any you've come up with," Noir said pointedly, gesturing vaguely around the room. "Honestly, banding together scores of nekos and stuffing a house up to the rafters with them in the name of equality and freedom?"

"What other choice is there?" Blanc snapped. "Not all of us are the blasted prince's favorite, Noir! Not all of us have a 24/7 pass to the palace!"

Noir's face hardened. "I don't, either, actually. But I'd rather sneak around and have ambiguous safety than live uncomfortably in this shack and surely have no safety, ending up dying a martyr for no reason other than bombastic pride and refusal to be smart about our situation," Noir spat back.

Blanc growled and turned away. "You think somehow arguing with me is supposed to convince me to help you, Noir?"

"No. I think saying I forgive you is going to convince you, though," Noir clarified in a quiet and sure voice.

Blanc's head snapped back to look at her so fast he felt something between his neck and his shoulder pinch in pain. He ignored the twinge and stared at her. "You don't forgive me though, do you?" he asked hesitantly, half afraid of the answer. Really, he wanted to be forgiven by Noir. It kind of killed him to have her so angry. He missed the days where he was the quiet and reserved one in their little group of three, trying to hold Noir back from doing something stupid like going to slit the purse of a rich-looking man in green on horseback. But it seemed somehow like those days of mere push-and-pull of whims and more trivial arguments were gone, replaced by both of them being headstrong and stubborn on far more heavy matters. But he wanted her forgiveness.

Noir held her words back for a moment, a bit unsure. She'd so much rather be on good terms with Blanc again. They had been good friends for years, and their hostility now was alien and unexpected. But then, so had been his betrayals. Blanc wasn't the person she thought she knew, and she was now realizing it. It was a bit of a scary thought two ways; she could forgive him and let him back into her good graces, or she could hold him off. If she let him back in, she knew that she would be doing so with the knowledge that he had changed somewhere along the road, and he was an old friend who had betrayed her. But the thought of her keeping him away was just as scary, just as foreign. Though Blanc's attitude had changed ever since Loki had come into their lives, he had still been close to her and Marron both for a long time before the prince's acquaintance and friendship was made. Having him both close and distant at the same time was beginning to fray her nerves and wits. She wanted to be friends with him again. But she was afraid for good reason. She sighed and glanced away. "I'm thinking about forgiving you," she conceded. "But I haven't decided yet. And just for the record, helping me formulate a good plan is a definite way to helping me forgive you," she added significantly.

Blanc's frown turned into a glare. "You're trying to tempt me into helping you by offering forgiveness as compensation," he said flatly.

Noir couldn't meet his eyes, glancing away from him and instead looking at the frayed hems of her fingerless black gloves. She opened her mouth to make some kind of argument against his observation. "I'm not— it's not that I—I don't want—" finally she just shook her head and scoffed. "Alright, maybe I am," she said slowly. "Maybe I am trying to tempt you with forgiveness."

Blanc smirked. "Why, Noir, when did you start selling emotional comfort in return for getting your way? That's borderline prostitution, you little seductive coquette," he teased.

Noirs eyes flashed, and she opened her mouth to make some kind of offended protest as she blushed, but Blanc cut her off.

"I'm just kidding," he assured her. "But at the same time," he added with a more sober expression as his smile fell away. "It is kind of unfair of you to manipulate me like that."

Noir had no answer to that other than a shrug and a mumbled, "I know, but it's the only thing I could think of to convince you to help."

Blanc sighed, looking down at the ground. "Mmh." He thought over his options carefully. "Fine. Seducing accomplished; I'll help you."

Noir's ears flicked in surprise, and her tail twitched in excitement, swinging side to side imperceptibly for just a moment. "Truly and honestly?" she asked suspiciously.

Blanc nodded, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a sardonic smile. "Truly and honestly." He held up his right hand in some semblance of swearing an oath. "I promise I'll help you, Chatte Noir Etoile."

Noir felt her heart drop slightly at his use of her incorrect last name. "Voleuse," she murmured quietly, feeling like she let a solemn secret slip out of her lips.

"Hmm?" Blanc asked, raising an eyebrow as he took a step closer.

"Voleuse, not Etoile," she said in an even quieter voice. "I… changed it. A few days ago."

Blanc quirked an eyebrow. "Alright. Chatte Noir Voleuse then. I'll… I'll actually help. Only because I want your forgiveness."

Noir nodded wordlessly, feeling a lump in her throat. "Right."

"Why'd you change your name from Star to Thief?" Blanc asked, sounding slightly baffled.

Noir forced a smile. "Nothing, Blanc. Don't worry about it. Let's just…" She drew the folded up map from her pocket. "Let's get started."

Blanc chewed his bottom lip for a moment before taking the paper from Noir's hand, making sure to have his fingers brush hers just briefly. "Yes, let's. Sooner you escape, the sooner I can get back to focusing on the rebellion," he said under his breath, not meaning a word of it.

Noir smiled crookedly, knowing he didn't really mean it. "Agreed."

They sank down onto one of the empty cots and laid the map out on the mattress and started planning Noir's departure.

Note from LoquaciousQuibbler: You know what's weird? I vaguely recall being on my laptop last night and working on this chapter, but I could hardly remember what I was typing… then I woke up this morning and opened this document, and I had a freaking half-chapter written.

Me: Huh. I actually wrote quite a bit last night…. *reads through the half-written chapter* Hmm. *types a little longer* Hey, look at that; another half-chapter! *reads through one more time* Yeah, I think that works. Let's post it.

I'm telling you, half of my writing happens when I'm half-asleep… it just happens sometimes lol.

So, there were a few of you wondering if Saklauss, the little boy last chapter, was going to make another appearance (Fun Fact: Saklauss is Old Norse for "innocent" or "guiltless."). And, yes, he did! Lol Loki using him as an excuse to sneak into the prison, looking for Noir but finding Marron… and "he'll get Thor." Ooh, boy, you think Thor can do something?!

And then Noir and Blanc… you know, for a while, ever since about… Chapter seven-ish, I thought Blanc would be a bad guy and remain a bad guy, never to repair his friendship with Noir. But, huh, for some reason, since about last chapter… I've felt this strange kind of inclination to make him somewhat good again. Think it'll last? I dunno yet ;) But at least for now he and Noir are set on relatively good terms, Blanc even agreeing to help Noir escape for the sake of getting her forgiveness.

So then. We have actually made it to 200 reviews, as I had hoped! :D Ermergersh you guys have no freaking idea how awesome I think that is! *runs in happy circles until I trip over my cat and faceplant on the carpet* Stupid cat… :P

In any case, let's keep it going, shall we? Tell me what you thought of this chapter, and I shall see you in the next one! ;)

Please favorite, follow, and review.