*Do I have an excuse for why it has taken me over two months to post a chapter? Yes. Yes I do. Though whether you will accept it as reasonable is questionable, but, alas, so it is. I'm sure my account stalkers have noticed that recently I've only updated Scarred for Life and Helikaraoke for like, weeks. That would be because I've recently gone through my first heartbreak with a real-life guy (because being heartbroken over fictional characters, I've found out, is not nearly as excruciating).

You know how I went to summer camp this last summer? Well, I met this really great and amazing guy there, and we were together for five months, roughly, and, actually, our banter and our relationship was a lot like Noir and Loki's is. When my boyfriend and I broke up, I had a hard time trying to find a way to keep writing Noir and Loki. So, yeah. Sorry, you guys, but personal problems. That's also why I haven't been messaging any of my friends on here… sorry, guys :P I was just totally thrown for a loop, and still feeling kinda rocky over it.

Note: please do not assume that this guy I was with was unworthy of me, a jerk, or in any way not good enough. He really was great, and he really did make me happy, and he didn't do anything wrong. Just to be clear, I didn't do anything wrong, either, but things happen. He is going through a really hard time personally right now, and feels he should be alone so he doesn't hurt me. So, no, he isn't a jerk, he isn't unworthy, and nobody needs to tell me that I will find someone better or that they're going to go kick his sorry A for hurting their favorite author. I'm getting through it, and I am finally back to writing Banditry. With all that said, I would like to add that I will be posting two chapters today to make up for my long absence. Thank you all for understanding, and don't worry about me. I'll be alright.

Brevity

Frigga smiled wryly, half-touched by the relentlessness with which Loki steadfastly wished to remain at Noir's side. He had been here for hours, and it was growing quite late; already dinner had passed, and by now everyone was usually in their chambers. The queen stood in the doorway, watching her younger son. "I am going to my chambers, Loki. Go to your room and get some rest when you grow too tired, my son."

"I will," Loki murmured. "I know."

With another soft sigh, Frigga gently stroked Loki's cheek and began walking tiredly out. "Good night."

"Good night," Loki absentmindedly called after her quietly. He heaved a deep breath and looked forlornly at the comatose neko.

He looked back at her hand, which he had been holding on and off self-consciously over the last few hours. The healers had been quite clear. Outside stimuli. Very specifically, they said holding her hand or talking to her. Anything with the four senses still available to her now. Touch, sound, taste, smell. Obviously sight wasn't an option when her eyes wouldn't open. Touch, sound, taste, smell. All the possibilities seemed terribly awkward for some reason.

Certainly, holding her hand was all fine and well. But he would still get looks from anyone who came in the room. And as for sound… talking to Noir when she was unconscious seemed redundant and hopelessly pointless. Smell? What was he supposed to do? Hold food under her nose and somehow hope she would wake up?

Taste?

Well, that just left his mind reeling with all the memories of near-kisses. No. Not like this. It would seem some kind of violation to kiss Noir in her… sleep. Even if it wasn't truly sleep. It was only more wrong.

And so he sat awkwardly on the edge of her bed, fingers only a few inches from hers but not touching them. Norns, this was just insanity. He slid his hand into hers again and whispered her name. "Noir," he breathed out. "Come on, Noir. Please just wake up for me. And for Marron, and Thor." He smiled wryly to himself. "But mostly, Noir, just please wake up for me." He squeezed her hand a bit. His quiet pleas and gentle squeeze elicited no response from her. "Helheim, I don't care who or what you wake up for," Loki muttered. "Just wake up, period. I don't care if you wake up for Blanc. Wake up for Odin for all I care. I'm just a selfish bastard that wants you to wake up for me," he continued, smiling even though it was utterly humorless. "Come on… open your eyes." No response. "Wake up," he repeated again, a bit more force in his voice when he said it.

He squeezed her hand harder with his own, and his other hand moved up to stroke her hair in the hopes of producing some kind of response. "Noir, do you remember the one time when I was at your hideout, staying the night for some rather poor reasons? I remember you and Marron were up long before Blanc and I got up, and you were one of the first things I saw when I woke up… you and your mischievous little smile, and you tossed an apple at me, and I missed catching it, and—" his voice broke slightly. He was rambling, and he knew full well. But he was talking to her.

Outside stimuli. Sound, touch, taste, smell. He shifted closer to her and began stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. And he continued rambling pointlessly, just for the sake of outside stimuli. Noise. Sound. One of her four available senses. And he continued running his hands through her hair, stroking her cheeks and tracing patterns on her hands.

She would wake up soon. She had to. He would will her awake if he had to.

00000

Loki still sat on the edge of Noir's bed even hours later, when his throat was dry and his eyelids drooped. He had started running out of things to say to the neko some time ago, so he had resorted to quiet humming to try and keep up making noise as outside stimulus. He shook himself and pinched himself every time he caught himself falling quiet and slouching, too tired to continue. He vaguely remembered how tired he had been after casting that blood purification spell earlier that afternoon. Even after he had napped, he must not have fully replaced all of his energy. His body was still tired from the exertions of that spell. But he couldn't sleep. He had to stay awake.

"—perhaps she'll recover, with the new intake of blood."

"It's a possibility," someone agreed. "Not a certainty, though."

"Certainly not. But she has a slim chance now."

"Aye."

Loki was shaken from his numb sleepiness by the voices drawing closer to the room, but he didn't have time to move before two women walked inside. Immediately, they halted, blinking in surprise at the sight of Loki sitting on the edge of their patient's bed, holding her hand. Loki opened his mouth slightly, but he didn't speak.

The elder of the two healers was the first to react. Her bewildered look slid away with a small smile. "…Prince Loki. We did not know you were still here. We thought you had left when Queen Frigga left. I apologize."

Slowly, Loki shook his head. "No… I've been sitting with… her…" he croaked faintly, tipping his head towards Noir.

"Of course," the second woman nodded a little uncertainly. "If we had known you were still here, we would have brought you something—are you not hungry or thirsty? We could bring you something."

Loki licked his lips slightly. "Food. Yes, that would be a good idea," he conceded. "I've gotten hungry. Yes, I would like some food if you please." He paused, and another idea came. "And—bring me an invigoration potion?"

"An invigoration potion?" the second healer asked in surprise.

Loki nodded surely, feeling even more conviction.

"But shouldn't you—"

The elder healer cut her off with a look, nodded to the younger, and she scurried off to order some food be brought up from the kitchens. The older healer turned back to Loki and smiled almost-sadly.

"So you've insisted on staying with the neko until she wakes?" she asked as she moved towards Noir's unconscious form.

Loki didn't answer, wary of saying something wrong.

"It's alright," the healer murmured. "I've known many people who are determined to stay with their friends, family, or loved ones until they are healed. It's a fear of something important or critical happening in your absence, isn't it?"

Loki glanced downward and nodded. "Yes. I… want to be here when she wakes."

Another nod of understanding. She was now standing on the other side of the bed, her fingers on the side of Noir's neck and her eyebrows drawn in concentration as she counted Noir's heartbeats and breaths before inspecting the tube in Noir's arm, where the steady drip of liquid still entered her body. "Most do. Most do want to be there when they wake up. From anesthesia, from a coma, from a fainting spell. Want to be there to comfort and say they'll be just fine."

Loki nodded again, eager. She understood what it was.

"You will need sleep at some point, you know," The healer warned. "I can let you stay here for however long you want, and we will be forced to follow your orders of invigoration potion as long as you want to keep yourself awake, but you will eventually need to sleep. The invigoration potion, designed to help keep someone awake, will lose its effectiveness after a few doses. You'll grow too tired to stay awake. I can already see your exhaustion. We heard you did a blood purification spell. That must have drained you greatly."

Loki shrugged indifferently.

"You'll need to rest soon, my prince."

"I don't care."

"Very well. Small doses of invigoration potion every four hours until she wakes, if you are so desperate to wear yourself to the bone."

"I am."

"I see. She'll be back shortly with the first dose, and I'll let the others know you've decided to take this treatment."

Loki said nothing more, and sat in silence until she left.

00000

Blanc stared out at the streets from the rooftop, where he had set out a stained and tattered blanket for himself now that the rain had finally stopped. The villa was overly packed, and there wasn't enough room for many of the nekos. Some had had to resort to finding elsewhere—old hideouts and abandoned hovels. Blanc had elected to sleep on the roof rather than go back to the hideout where he, Noir, and Marron had once stayed. He didn't want to think about that time when they had been a little group of three ragtag thieves, playful, not-quite-carefree, but undeniably happy as friends. None of it would happen again.

How long had it been? Six hours? More? Less?

Too long. It had been too long. It had been more than three hours. Three hours was the maximum amount of time Noir could have lived without medical attention. And she would have only had perhaps a half hour to forty-five minutes to find help before the devil's honey pushed her into a coma. Then she would have been unconscious, bleeding out from the bloodbath. That was how the nekos had designed their weapons—let the enemy fall unconscious, and then die without the ability to find help. So that was how Noir would have died… unconscious, slumped over in some alley against some building, alone in a dreamless slumber that would soon become eternal. No friends to comfort her there. No one that loved her. Blanc pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, rocking back and forth.

What was he doing here? Why was he still here? The only reason he had wanted to be part of the rebellion was so that he, Noir, and Marron could be free—be truly carefree, truly happy. He had been sure that it would all come true without any hiccups… that he would be able to join the rebellion, participate in a few skirmishes, and then the king of Asgard would do something… step down, perhaps… he hadn't been sure. He had never given it proper thought. He had just thought that Noir and marron would be just as happy with this idea as he was. He hadn't thought they would be angry with him… why had they been so angry with him? Why had everything gone wrong?

Why had he been left alone?

He lifted his head and looked out over the city, brushing away the wetness from his eyes. Even here, among the nekos who wanted the same things as him, he was alone. Did he even want to be here? Was it worth it now that even the hopes of being happy with his friends were gone now?

He almost stood up… Blanc almost convinced himself to sneak away, and leave the villa behind. He might even take the map that Catalysseur and Soir needed so badly, just to spite them and make sure that their plans wouldn't work.

He almost convinced himself to be brave and do something more. Almost. But not quite.

Blanc wrapped his cloak tighter around himself and lay down on his little blanket, closing his eyes and saying a small prayer to the Norns that Noir was safe, wherever she had gone. A prayer that, even if he wasn't there to share in it, she was happy, carefree, and free.

00000

In the hours of late morning the next day, two nekos sat together in the corner of a room.

"Do we adjust the plans?" Soir asked tersely.

Catalysseur merely shook his head, looking utterly worn, not looking like the imposing and commanding figure he had looked like in front of the partygoers at the ball at the palace. He hadn't gotten enough sleep, and he was worried about his followers. "There is nothing more we can do… we didn't lose any food, but we're still suffering from a shortage of supplies. All we can do is train for the next two weeks, and make a plan to invade the palace in a sneak attack."

Soir nodded slowly. "So… the plan remains the same. Two weeks is when we make our move."

"Right."

"Are you doing alright, Rouge?" Soir asked softly, frowning up at her leader.

Catalysseur nodded and looked levelly at his second-in-command. "And you? Have you recovered from yesterday?"

Soir's gray eyes flicked away quickly, not wanting him to see the flash of pain there. Noir Etoile… her child, her daughter. It kept replaying in her head, how the dagger had managed to pierce her flesh so easily. In Soir's mind, there had almost been some kind of denial, as if the dagger would recognize that a mother was not supposed to stab her daughter, and so it wouldn't allow it to happen. But the dagger had stabbed her, and the blade had been stained with blood. Chatte Noir Soir had killed her daughter in the name of freedom. In the name of freedom, and in the name of what was right. That was all she could keep telling herself in comfort.

"You did the right thing, Noir," Catalysseur murmured.

Soir swallowed the lump in her throat. "I know. I know it was the right thing to do."

Catalysseur's hand lightly squeezed Soir's shoulder, and then he walked away, calling, "All we must do is keep training our warriors. That is our initiative for the next several days. Nobody makes a move on the palace until I say otherwise."

00000

Three days… three days since the attack on the neko rebels, and three days since Noir had appeared on Loki's balcony, and three days since the king and queen had found out about their sons' friendship with a pair of nekos.

Nothing had changed. It felt as if the entire kingdom were waiting silently in eager anticipation of something to come. The Aesir citizens waited for some news for the king on the state of the neko rebellion. The king waited for something to give, some kind of news on the nekos and their location, or for them to make their move. The nekos were waiting with bated breath for the day when they could lay siege to the palace, in the meantime quietly preparing. And within the palace, Loki, Marron, Thor, and Frigga waited upon the waking of Chatte Noir Voleuse.

Thor and Marron visited for about an hour each day, but Marron couldn't stand the stillness and silence from her friend, and could never stay longer than about an hour. Thor would give Marron a quick hug whenever her eyes started to fill with tears, and then they would retreat to her room.

Frigga kept some kind of silent vigil outside in the hall, where she could hear Loki's faint voice speaking in hushed tones to his unconscious friend, reading books or merely talking. The queen learned quickly not to listen too closely unless she felt like crying. When Loki wasn't reading to Noir or making idle chatter about trivialities like the weather out today or recalling to her some memory he had of their spending time together, he would slip into whispered pleas for her to wake. Frigga brought her own books to read to pass the time, and she would attempt to immerse herself in that instead of tuning in to the sound of Loki whispering "Noir, Chatte Noir Voleuse, please, love, wake up, my little thief."

And Loki still wouldn't go to his room to sleep, instead insisting that the potions the healers were giving him gave him enough energy, and he could stay at Noir's side a while longer. The dark circles under his eyes and the constant slouch in his posture and the scratchiness in his voice said otherwise, but Frigga knew pointing this out was a moot point.

The queen was not surprised when, on the afternoon of the third day, she found Loki lying asleep next to Noir.

Frigga sighed and shook her head as she looked at the two figures, both unconscious, on the small bed. She had known that Loki would fall asleep at some point, but she had hoped that Loki might have the sense to go back to his own room by the time his exhaustion had gotten so bad that he couldn't stay awake anymore, even with the aid of invigoration potions. But then again, Loki had no sense when it came to Noir, did he? When Frigga had last spoken to him, he had been barely coherent, anyway. His voice had been hoarse, his eyes drifting shut, his voice slurred, and the words he spoke only made half-sense. Yes, it had only been a matter of time before Loki had fallen asleep.

She wondered if she should wake him and make him go to his chambers for rest, but reconsidered. If she woke him, he might only insist on staying awake again. No… Loki needed the rest. She would let him sleep for a while, and he might feel better when he woke.

Note from LoquaciousQuibbler: Just another kinda pointless chapter, but things are going to get rolling again next chapter, so stay tuned, for I shall try and post it a little later today!

One funny thing, though.

The neko rebels: putting the "villa" in "evil lair" and "villains" since 2015.

That is all. Continue with your day.

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