Recap: Rhydderch is pronounced Ru-therch. Don't worry, I say Rhydderch in my head too.

Previously, Caraid was taken away and his sister Khia was desperate to follow him. She made the mistake of telling Ru, and he locked her away to keep her safe. BUT...

A loser hides behind a mask of my disguise

And who I am today is worse than other times

-Message Man, Twenty One Pilots


He feels bad for what he's done, truly. To be honest, the list of things he feels bad about is a long one, but this latest act has him feeling truly guilty. She tried to confide in him, to farewell him. Indeed, that tiny scrap of fur trusted him, though she barely knew him, the tom that was very much in most ways his father's son. He was sure it was never meant to last, but it was a shame, to break it so soon

Rhydderch had had no choice.

But that look, in those green eyes... It plagues him all day. Khia must be lonely, in that cage, with only Tillamn's gentle breathy snores as a mockery of company. In the stuffy old house, the guilt only builds and builds, layers of it stacked upon boxes of human junk. He must escape- this is a thought that comes to him ironically, although he does not yet know it. Rhydderch has an easy time getting outside. There's not a guard in the house that doesn't know him, or fear him. This fear is entirely without merit; he could be worse. He could be, for instance, Skah. The two are void of any relations, and it shows in their temperment.

The guard by the door gives him a wide-eyed stare as he passes. It's the small silver one, who, for some reason, either idolises him or fears him immensely. Rhydderch cares for neither option, so he leaves without a word, escaping into the smog of the city. The garden before him is wild, a product of negiligence. Despite the masses of cats contained within the house, it's a popular destination for birds and mice alike. During the times the 'family business' struggles to make a profit guards are given hunting duty in the frontyard,, or even, if they're unlucky, beyond. It's a much less certain world out there, where Bayard's territory ends and everything else begins.

Out here is the only place on the property that counts as quiet, peaceful. Noises from the house can't permeate the brick and mortar, and the jaded road ahead is frequently deserted. It's a street surviving, mostly, without residents. Tillman's seems to be striving to make up for the distinct lack of life on Juno Street, in the house bursting at the seams with all the occupants it holds. Rhydderch is suddenly unsure of why he needed to come out here, when the barren cul-de-sac contrasts so sharply with his home, and serves to remind him how forlorn Khia must be. She's spent her life surronded by her peers, overwhelmed by them. Her isolation was his only option. She is an artist of escape, after all, and nothing but the cage would hold her.

Rhydderch heads back inside, swallowing his bitter melancholy sigh. He knows he's done the right thing, and by keeping Khia alive, he's keeping his head on his shoulders. He can't forget his promise to the wildcat, and he never knows if she'll come calling. It doesn't matter if his pseudo-daughter now hates him. Cariad can fend for himself. Rhydderch is certain it won't take much more than a stiff wind to bowl over the little she-cat.

"Rhydderch." His name is a coarse sound in his father's voice. Bayard has never called him Ru, or any affectionate hypocorism. The russet tom turns impatiently to face his father, who looks more and more grey by the day.

"Yes?" he asks. The short guard by the door sits and watches them, entranced. Or so he thinks; he can't be sure with that tom.

"You look terrible," Bayard comments, looking not amused but solemn. Rhydderch snorts at this, but doesn't deny it. He's sure he does; he's been sleepless these past few nights, wondering if they would take Khia away despite his order. He won't tell his father this- they communicate about strictly business, and rarely, if ever, about anything else.

"Is that all? I'm sure I have somewhere...else... to be." He's nothing but creative with his methods when it comes to escaping his father.

His father stares up at him, baleful. "Just letting you know we'll be focused on re-stocking after our latest trade. Numbers are down, of course, and it's not productive. There's some fresh prey for you too, in the Meat Room."

Ru used to love re-stocking. Now, he's not so sure anymore.

"Thanks," he mutters. He trots away, not feeling hungry at all. He goes to fetch some food anyway. The Meat Room is technically a cupboard, but it's cool in there; the kibble stays fresher for longer, and the prey doesn't spoil. They're often brought prey by strange cats, as payment. There's a plethora of things Bayard accepts as currency; foods, bedding, queens. Most things, really. That cat is a hoarder.

The tom noses open the door and peers inside, wondering what the menu has for him today. In the gloomy dark, he sees a few birds, which he guesses are starlings- they're common around here. There are mice, which are never in short supply, and a few grotesque rats. Kibble and pellets are heaped untidily in one corner, and more spills from torn boxes. Those in charge like to save the dry food for the queens and kits. Fresh food is a decadence predominantly reserved for cats of real importance, the ones in control. Ru picks a fat mouse and exits the Meat Room.

He enters Tillman's room feeling a little better- there, Khia, I haven't forgotten you, see? "Spots?" he calls, though he expects no response. Ru pads over to the cage, and he blinks. The little door swings open, and it is so surprisingly empty. He thought he had her. He thought he'd saved her from that uncertain world. Rhydderch has fallen a little short, once again. The mouse drops to his paws. The silver-tongued tom is without words; the guilt in his stomach metamorphoses into a horrible remorse, a biting kind of grief. He searches the rest of the room in a hurry; he cannot swallow, for there is a lump in his throat.

He ends up at the window, where the curtain twitches fitfully in a faint breeze. It's wide enough for one small kitten to wriggle though, if she so desires. And Ru knows it's what she most wants, now- an escape, an out, a way to save her brother. Why didn't he tell her she'd only die trying?

I'm leaving, and you can't stop me! How right she'd been.

He shakes his head to clear it. She's only a kitten. She has such short legs. She can't be far away at all. Immediately Ru leaps from the windowsill. He has one place to visit before he ventures out again. Khia mentioned Sablefrost in such a spiteful, resenting tone. Rhydderch kept sagely silent on the matter of her parentage, and there's only one other soul in the house that knows that name.

It doesn't take long to reach the bathroom; dodging piles of junk, he trots, fuming silently. He reaches her cage and stares into it, but he can't see her in the blackness. Ru hisses her name. He said it so softly once, when he caught her heart. And them he locked her up.

"Arrah!"

She takes her time appearing, but she comes to him anyway. Her green eyes are narrowed. "Yeah?" she snaps back. There was a time when he called her sweetheart, and she called him my love. He ruined it, because that's his job.

"She came to see you, and now she's gone. What did you tell her?"

"What she deserved to hear. Everyone needs to know who their parents are." They stare each other down. Does she hate him now? How could she not?

"Just because yours are a mystery," he growls. He never knew his mother, and he doesn't really care. Heritage. It's nothing, really.

"Family is important," Arrah insists, venom in his breath. "They've gone to find theirs. You're a fool if you get in their way."

"They?" he asks, but he sees it now; Khia could never escape on her own. That cage cannot be opened from the inside. Etch is one third of a trio, Khia half of a whole. Broken pieces belong together.

"Our daughter is brave," she says, and he knows their children are the only thing she will ever share with him, "unlike you."

"It's dangerous out there," Ru snarls. She ought to know that. Arrah came from the streets, dirty and ragged, and afraid. At least she knows she's safe here, where her meals come at regular intervals. He will ask nothing more from her, because Ru has a long list of things he feels bad about.

"They're smart. You sent out sons out there; isn't it dangerous for them too?" She was never this fierce, when she lived uncaged. It leaves him speechless for a moment; this trapped creature, in her rage and fear, is a kaleidescope of beauty painted pale in her helplessness. And though there's a fine line of bars between them, Ru's a little nervous. His charm has never done much against angry queens.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks. "It's futile. I've got no control over Bayard or his clients. It was all I could do to convince them that one tiny kitten was going to do nothing for their cause, but look over there, there's a strapping young tom."

Arrah doesn't care. She still blames him, still hates him. He sees it, in her narrow peridot eyes. Rhydderch is not in control; he just acts as though he owns the world. He sighs heavily. "They're gone," he tells her, wearily. "I'm going to look for Khia and Etch, they can't have gone far. I'll talk to you later."

"Yes, leave me. Again," she hisses at him, unfurling before his eyes and retreating into the darkness like smoke.

"Wait," he calls, regretting his choice as soon as he voices it. She pauses in her smooth sinuous movement, glaring at him expectantly. "I'll...I'll go bargain for their release. Okay? I'll find something for them to do around here."

"Just make sure they don't end up like you," she snaps, her scathing farewell. Ru leaves her, again.

He shoves the window open wider with his shoulder. If he's going to track them, he'd better start at the source. He's not much of a hunter, but he's already discovered Khia and Etch didn't leave alone. In Tillan's stale, hollow room, there is a third scent he doesn't recognise- and it leads straight out the window. Rhydderch has decided to find his daughter and his charge first, return them, and then he will grovel at Miss' feet until she releases his sons. He figures she can't say no to him. Which cat can?

He leaps into the garden, overcrowded and untamed as it is. It's a jungle, for small eyes. Ru considers leaping the fence, but the scent trail leads him straight to a hole between wooden panels. He slips through, sucking in a breath. Rhydderch is no spring chicken. It's confusing when one scent- Etch's- deviates from the others. He can almost imagine his daughter wandering off, daydreaming. Chasing a moth, maybe, before Khia reined her back in with a scowl.

Surprisingly, Rhydderch is able to follow the trail. It leads him down Juno Street, takes a left, takes a right. It's a little difficult when it crosses paths with Miss' crew, through sidestreets and alleys. Ru is still hopeful when it starts to rain. Even when the water drips from his whiskers and slicks his fur to his sides, he knows he'll find them. When the delicate scents he's been following run from the pavements and splash into gutters, he resorts to shouting.

"Khia! Etch! Unknown third party!"

Scrawny street cats growl at him from their shelters, and he feels a little afraid for the she-cats. They weren't meant for such a torrid life. And they weren;t meant entirely for cages, either, but that's the only option Ru can give them.

Nothing answers his calls but surly snarls. And he loses his hope. He ends up standing before the warehouse housing the revolutionists; this is the one thing he can do now for Arrah. The guard on duty lets him enter without a word. Rhydderch is infamous, in certain crowds. Inaide, it's a large building. Metal stairs, ever an enemy, lead up to a second floor. On the first floor are stacked boxes and burlap sacks, where a few cats sleep. Along one wall are a series of metal grates. Maybe they were drains once, but they've been blocked off and lined with whatever was available. They now house the kittens, judging from the young voices the echo within them. He's not sure why they've been locked away again, when all of Miss' hopes ride on this youth army. Perhaps he doesn't trust them, which is already a strategical error.

From experience, Ru knows Miss and Emory have claimed the second floor for themselves. He passes yet another guard on his way up, and wonders at all this surveillance. Why would anyone harm their only hope? He dislikes these stairs even more than the wooden ones, for he must use his claws to gain purchase, and it has tiny holes that punctuate its surface; it cuts into his paws.

"Hello?" he calls catiously, reaching the top of the stairs. Light streams in through a large, cracked window, and illuminates the dancing dust in the air.

"You ought to stop right there if you value you intestines staying right where they are," someone growls. Never one to idly ignore gruesome threats, Rhydderch halts, a little unsteadily, dripping water onto the floor. In front of him stands a tall black tom with dark eyes. He has his scars, like any common street brawler. Rhydderch knos Miss has always been fond of the rabble, but to bring one up to where she nests?

"Oh, please, Achilleus, it's just Ru," Miss calls, purring as she hops down from her nest of shredded burlap sacks, newspapers and boxes. It's not exactly silk and feathers, but it's all they can find around here, save for some old and torn towels. Emory follows.

"Rhydderch," he greets. "How can we help you?" Achilleus looks disgruntled but backs away to stand by the grey she-cat's shoulder.

"Well, this is awkward," Ru starts, "but I believer there has been a slight mix-up." He puts a self-depreciating smile on his face, trying to look embarassed and contrite. This is the best route, he's decided. He will look likeable and a little foolish, and they will give his sons back with a laugh. "You have two toms with you- Ruari and Brine. They weren't meant to go with you. They're my young prodigies, you see."

Miss opens her mouth to speak, but at a glance from Emory she shuts it again. "We apoligise for any and all confusion, Ru. But you see, we've already paid for them. And of course, we need them so dearly."

He lets his heart sink. There is no hope at all now- none for Khia and Etch, who face an uncertain future on the streets, and none for Ruari and Brine, who will die, slaughtered ingloriously by PureClan.

"There's a beautiful young she-cat, who will miss them, very much. If there's anything I can do...replacements, perhaps..."

"Oh, no," Miss says. "Replacements won't do at all...too much hassle, you know."

"Please," he says, and Achilleus' cold eyes fill with disgust.

Miss smiles at him. She'd be pretty, if not for the scar that runs from her eye to her mouth, her dissected ears, pink ribbons of skin running through her silver fur. "But I didn't say there wasn't anything you could do."

"Oh," Rhydderch says, and he lets himself, he dares... "A favour then?"

"Of sorts," Miss replies. "We could use that silver tongue of yours, Ru. It could come in handy."

He'd never wanted any part in her war. He wanted to stand neutral, impassive on the sidelines as Miss drove her legions to their deaths. Then he'd say it was a good fight, a rousing attempt, ill-fated though it was. And then he'd go back to Bayard, because PureClan was good for business. Rhydderch is not a fighter, but his voice is molten gold and honey.

He thinks of Arrah, the sweetness she no longer shows him. If he let her, she'd be here bargaining for her children's lives. With her own, most likely. He can't set her free, anymore than she can love him after what he's done to her.

Ru says yes in a voice that drips with gold.


dear lord I hate typing these out twice. but it's ru and I love ru so there you go. and finally, an arrah/ru scene. Rurrah is still real. I wrote the one of my drabbles, sink, about them, it's the cutest. not like the verb sink, an actual sink. with water and plumbing. Still no internet, but the next chapter has been written and it'll be up in a week or two. I have to decide if I hate it or not first. Favourite line? I know what mine is, and I will defintely be scavenging it for another project.

Any mistakes are mine. Wrote it twice and still couldn't get it right huh