Just thought I should leave a little warning note atop this one, this story is essentially an exploration of a Silvaze fanchild and thus contains an OC. Don't worry if that isn't your thing, while I'll be writing more of her in the future she isn't going to become commonplace in this oneshot dump. I thought it wise to state this up front, just in case this story's contents confused people.

I suppose I'll also take this opportunity to thank you for reading this far! At this point, you've made it through 20 of my oneshots and almost 80,000 words. I really hope you've enjoyed reading and I can continue to make work you enjoy!

A cast iron kettle hung in the air, cloaked in a bubbling mint green aura. Its owner sat at a desk beneath it, scribbling away in preparation for an upcoming maths test but, unfortunately, was more distracted than she'd admit by her tea-brewing endeavour. It wasn't that the effort was overly strenuous and it wasn't that she hadn't practised, but maintaining a temperature low enough to prevent overflow was proving more difficult than she'd anticipated. She'd got stuck three sums into her workbook, a geometry question no different from those prior was somehow taking ten times their effort. As she cursed her inability she felt her pencil brittle in her grasp, paint melting as the wood turned to a husk. The feline sighed, gripping it by the graphite tip and blowing, but the damage was already done. The fingertips of her right glove were stained yellow and black. Her pencil was well beyond use.

She groaned, tossing it in her wastepaper basket, and reached to her pen-pot. There were no more pencils, only pens. Pens were no good for maths. She opened her drawers, only papers; no pencils. A low hiss slipped from her throat, she balled her fist only to flinch and quickly reopen it. The paint now marked her palm, cast black by the glowing green symbol behind it. She slumped back in her chair, a much louder hiss slipping her throat, and brought her left hand to her forehead.

That was when a meteor fell from her ceiling; her kettle crashed through the desk in front of her and she, in response, tumbled twice backwards over her chair and landed flat on her back. A hiss escaped her throat, despite being a cat she clearly had her father's reflexes; couldn't have just landed on her feet. Just as she thought of her father, his voice rang up the hall.

"Heather, what was that?! Is everything alright?!" His call was followed by the sounds of a psychic whir; he was undoubtedly racing toward her room.

"I'm fine, Dad! It's fine! Don't come in!" She dared to glance at the damage, the now dented iron mass and her demolished oak desk. Almost-tea had been sent in almost every direction. Was the floor broken too? Knowing her luck, probably.

Despite her demands, there was a gentle rap at her door; undoubtedly her father's knuckles. Heather released another sighing hiss, brushing off her skirt and clambering to her feet; making sure her ponytails were still in place. As cats went she was on the fluffier side, her pastel purple fur was rather untameable, and thus made maintaining a serious visage… difficult. She'd had her right ear pierced in an attempt to fix that, coupled with a shift from garish pinks and yellows to a more serious (gothic) style. Out with sundresses and dungarees, in with black skirts and shirts from her favourite metal bands.

"Purpur, are you sure you're okay? Can I come in?"

Fists balled and eyes shut tight, she spoke through gritted teeth, "Dad, I told you to stop calling me that, I'm not a kid anymore." Another hiss escaped her throat, Heather knew she had whined rather than demanded that change.

"Sorry Heather, I just… can I come in?" She heard the worry in his voice.

Heather turned away from the door, wandering over to inspect what remained of her desk. Her papers were ruined, the woodwork was smashed and water was freely leaking from her kettle.

Eyes closed, fists clenched and her ears lowered. "D-Do whatever you want."

The door unlatched behind her, footsteps padded across the carpeted floor behind her. "Oh dear, well at least you're alright. This shouldn't be too hard to fix!"

Cyan light flared, the kettle returned to the air and soon its puncture was turned inside out; the metal folded to reseal. Her papers too lifted skyward; water being separated and pooling within a separate psychic bubble. While he couldn't fix her desk he did his best, the broken board splintering back together and being set to lie atop its legs. With a point, her trinkets and kettle were piled on her bedside cabinet. The orb of tea was quickly disposed of, her window briefly opening to set it loose.

"We can get you a replacement desk in the morning, don't worry about it."

She felt his hand on her shoulder, Heather shrugged out another sigh but no hiss accompanied it. The feline finally turned to face her father, looking up at his stupid smiling face and ridiculous quills. Even though she was fourteen he still towered over her, the fluffy tips of her ears barely reached his chin. Cyan symbols were etched on his hands, not quite the same as her octagons but unmistakably similar. Moments like this reminded her that she had his brighter eyes, not her mother's amber ones as she liked to think.

"Thanks," His smile grew at her praise, ugh. She turned away arms folded, "I-I guess, but I could have cleaned it up myself."

That hand on her shoulder pulled her in for a hug. She kept her arms firmly crossed and forced herself to maintain a frown despite the tickling of his fluff. "I know you could but it's fine. I just wanted to save you the hassle, no matter how grown up you are I'm still going to do my best to help you."

"Dad, stop embarrassing me." At that, she felt him hug just a little tighter, practically forcing his fluff up her nose. Her eye shut, she could feel the heat on her face. "I should be cleaning up my own messes, solving my own problems n-not relying on you or anyone, n-not even mum!"

She'd tried to sound serious but, again, Heather knew she surely hadn't. Not only had a stutter snuck past her lips but her words had surely been muffled against his frame. If he couldn't take her seriously when she spoke clearly, what chance did she have now? Finally conceding, she leaned into him… but she wasn't going to return the hug.

"We both know what she'd say if she heard you say that." Heather could hear the teasing in her father's voice. He wasn't wrong, as much as she wished he were.

"I know, she'd call me stubborn." But if he was going to tease her then she could push back. She was an adult; she didn't have to stand for this. "But she'd call you naïve for babying me."

He snorted, "She's been calling me that long before you were here, it didn't stop me then and it won't stop me now." She felt his hand shift, rising to ruffle her unpierced ear. Before she could complain he'd released her from the hug, still beaming with that stupid grin. If anything it'd grown even stupider and far more embarrassing. "You're always going to be my little Purpur. Nothing you can do will ever change that."

Heather tried her hardest to force the red from her cheeks. She shot him the harshest glare she could muster, ears pinning back and tail stiffening. "You are the catalyst of my misery, the key to my hatred and root of…" Cheeks flared brighter as she searched out more words; she knew her glower was wavering. "All my ignominy." Unsatisfied with the effort, she turned from him, making sure to whip her tail. "I long for some great thaumaturgy to free me of your unabashed foolishness. You handle a future sorcerous and monarch as you might some plain infant, as though I am some hapless new-born still crawling on my hands and knees." That was better, Heather refolded her arms in an attempt to further emphasise her points. "Your assiduity shackles me five hundred magnitudes more than you could ever comprehend, binding me to a crag of discontent to be scoured by waves of embarrassment."

For some time there was quiet, a vacuum that rather surprised the feline. Heather had doubted he'd take her effort to heart, in truth she'd expected him to laugh her off again. She'd expected and they'd float off into the air, him having hugged her, and very nearly bump against the ceiling. There'd be groaning, she'd try to push away, but he'd continue to hug her and call her by that insipid name.

But, rather than a hug, his words broke the silence. "Well, perhaps you're right. You are growing up so, if it means that much to you, I'll stop calling you Purpur." Eyes widened, she looked over her shoulder to him. "Of course, as I said, that's what you'll always be to me; but if it really embarrasses you so much… then fine." She could see the sincerity in his eyes, as they locked with hers though his smile near tripled in size. "That doesn't mean I'm going to stop looking after you though, no matter how much that embarrasses you. You're still my little girl after all."

"I-I'm not a little girl, I'm an adult; a future monarch no less!" The young feline turned away again, feeling a smile creep onto her lips. For as embarrassing, foolish and goofy as he could be, Dad wasn't one for lying. If he said he wasn't going to call her Purpur, he meant it. Before she could really think two muttered words slipped past her lips, "T-Thank you."

That'd done it. The naïve oaf was upon her; arms wrapped around her and his chin crowning the top of her head. Before she could struggle they were in the air, approaching the ceiling. Heather couldn't see it, but she could imagine the stupid smile plastered on his face as he nuzzled and cooed. All her pushing and decrying did was alter their trajectory, soon blood was rushing to her head and the floor spanned out above them. Only his power could force such embarrassing hugs, he'd stopped doing them in public last year but the house was a different story.

"Dad s-stop that right now! You shouldn't even be in here; this is my room. You're going to leave boot prints on the ceiling. G-Get out! Get out! S-Stop hugging me, r-right now!" Heather swore she heard him laugh, or at the very least chuckle. "Ugh, you're so embarrassing!"

"Just a little longer, it feels like its been months since I last cuddled you." He'd kicked off the ceiling; they were slowly approaching the floor.

Regardless of that Heather continued to battle, wriggling away from him nuzzles. "Y-You hugged me less than ten minutes ago!"

"That one was too short, it hardly counts." She could feel her fur growing messier and messier, pricking as her agitation grew. "I miss when my little girl would return my hugs."

"Your little girl isn't little anymore! I-I'm an adult, I'll do whatever I want!"

"I already told you, no matter how old and mature you get you're always going to be my little girl." Eyes rolled, she over exaggerated a hiss, but she knew it was only reinforcing his words; drawing out her childish anger. "Although, as you are such an adult, I suppose I can trust you with a little errand? If you agree to do it I'll set us down now."

It was an especially embarrassing combination, first an attempt to crumple her ego followed by such an obvious attempt to bolster it. She felt her flush grow even redder, "F-Fine! I'd rather suffer a thousand lonely deaths than endure five more minutes of this." That was too much, again it sounded like she was trying too hard.

As feet finally met the ground he gave one last nuzzle, again brushing that unpierced ear much to Heather's chagrin. She quickly pulled away, arms refolding as she turned to face him. "Well, this will be far easier than that. We've got an important guest coming for dinner, I was going to collect her from the harbour myself but I'm sure she'd love to see you first."

"We're having a visitor here rather than in the castle?" Her brow furrowed

He ran his fingers through his chest fur, giving the words some thought. "Knowing her, she'd probably want to stay here with us rather than in a guest room. Odds are she'll refuse a room and sleep on the couch too."

It was rather unusual for guests to stay in the house rather than the palace. Usually, people came from the other dimension in groups too; only one woman coming was rather strange. Aunt Amy, Uncle Sonic and their brats had stayed for a week no more than ten days ago. The Rabbit had family visited a week before that, alongside the heads of the Chaotix detective agency. Who else was there? She recalled a bat and echidna family, she cursed herself for forgetting their names, but she doubted it.

Curiosity had been piqued though she attempted to bury that, standing fully to attention and taking the task with the utmost seriousness. "Who is it I am to escorting?"

"It's…" The hedgehog paused as if some idea had struck him. "Well, I suppose it was always meant to be a surprise; I shouldn't change that now. Even if you don't remember her, she'll surely remember you so don't worry about missing them. I'll be surprised if she doesn't recognise you, not much has changed." He realised his mistake before she could begin to frown, quickly following that up with, "I-I mean, you've grown a lot since back then and changed in some amazing ways Heather but some things are, well, rather permanent."

Dad raised his hand; a cyan-blue pillar of light entered Heather's vision. She sighed, matching the effort; a mint hue was unleashed, a wave of warmth coming with it. He wasn't wrong, between her markings and eyes it was obvious who her father was and cats weren't exactly common on the island, let alone those with the royal mark on their forehead. She noted the wrinkle of concern on his brow.

"It's fine dad." Heather internally rolled her eyes trying to maintain her serious expression. While it was a basic and pitiful errand, she couldn't help feeling a twinge of pride. It was a small step, but clearly an important one toward being treated like the adult she was. Eyes closed, she put on her clearest voice. "While it's hardly a task befitting of my status, I shall do as you have requested. I'll see to it that this visitor arrives without delay."

Immediately his hand was back on her head, now quite reaching her ears but ruffling the thick fur on her head. Eyes quickly opened, she struggled to bat the hand away. "I'll leave you to it then."

"Yes, now… get out of my room." She reached up to smooth out the damage he'd done but quickly remembered the melted paint on her palm, likely newly melted by their brief light show. Heather balled her fists, "Ugh, you're so embarrassing!"

Finally, she heard footsteps; he said something to the effect of "Stay safe" as the door closed behind him. Alone again, at last. She quickly removed her gloves and sought out a clean pair; taking up a comb she quickly flattened her fluff and retied her ponytail. While she didn't know who she'd be meeting, it was only right that she appeared proper; both for them and the populous at large. Well, as proper as her fur would allow. She drew a jacket from her closet, a simple (hoodless) coat with a fake breast pocket. It was more an accessory piece than for warmth; it wasn't as though she felt the cold after all.

Satisfied with her appearance, Heather took to the hall. The scent of herbs immediately struck her, forming an obscuring barrier, but beneath it was the scent of salmon. It wasn't being cooked yet, the smell was too weak for that, but her mother's sense of taste had rushed to the forefront. Despite the fish's taunting, she managed to round her way down the stairs and to the front door; collecting her key from the hook and quickly slipping on her shoes. All was ready, all was set, it was a simple task but it was a taste of proper responsibility! She pulled open the door and stepped outside…

Bright yellow eyes collided with a regal, amber, set. She'd departed just as Mum arrived, the older purple feline was dressed in her usual robes; what'd once been a ponytail had recently grown into a lengthy braid.

Quickly, Heather returned to her full attention; hands clasped in front of her. "G-Good evening mum, I hope work was… productive?"

A small smile crossed the monarch's face, Heather tried her hardest not to mirror it. She had to look serious; no she had to be serious! "Good evening Heather, it was dull but yes, productive. I hope you aren't going far? By that smell, dinner can't be too far off."

"No, just to the harbour. Dad trusted me to collect our guest, but he hasn't told me who they are." She was thankful her stutter hadn't persisted. Deep down, she knew her attempts to elevate the task only made it more infantile, but success here would surely grant her further independence. That meant it was the first step on the path of making her proud. "Regardless of the difficulty his naivety has caused, I'll locate her and return post-haste."

"I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding her, she'll likely shout the moment she spots you." As Blaze went to pass Heather stepped outside, holding the door open. "She's never quiet, even eight years later I doubt that much has changed."

Again Heather thought back, eight whole years? So she'd only been six when this person left. To the young feline, that time was a mess of pink dresses and tea parties, wanting to be the stereotypical pretty princess more than anything. Now it was starting to get to her. Heather's eyes finally averted from hers, "I wish he'd just told me."

"You're so stubborn, your father wants it to be a surprise for a reason. I won't deprive you of it." It wasn't a serious chide of course, but Heather couldn't help feeling she'd made a misstep. "To be honest, I'm surprised you've forgotten her. You sobbed for weeks when she set out."

"I-I did?"

"Well, when you see her I'm sure it'll all come back." That small smile remained, though Mum's eyes departed from Heather. "Remembering someone you've forgotten is… an experience. I suppose, with that in mind, I can stand for you two to be a little late to dinner." Mum took another step over the threshold; gently nodding as she passed. "I'm off to surprise your father. Have fun."

For once, the clear interlude to her parents' flirting didn't faze Heather. She was dumbfounded, her mouth agape a single word snuck past her lips, "O-Okay." She quickly rectified this though, restoring her attentive posture and furrowing her brow. "I'll see to it that we're back in time for dinner, I'll take no longer than twenty minutes; there and back."

Her claims weren't met with a response; by the time she'd recovered her mother was well on her way toward the kitchen. The young feline closed the door, slouching against it and heaving a sigh. On one hand, she'd been called stubborn again and she doubted her Mother was much impressed by her immature display. On the other, Mum seemed particularly happy for this reunion and furthermore, apparently, it was someone she'd known as a child? How old were they?

Heather managed to push away from the door, beginning the trek down the path and away from their family home. She glanced to her right; the Sol castle itself wasn't far from here. They stayed in their separate house for practical reasons more than anything, the building was archaic and upgrading it had proven difficult; the water refused to heat, oftentimes leaving it cold. That wasn't a problem for Heather, nor her Mother of course, and when they did stay there Dad simply demanded more hugs but providing them bedding meant powering an entire wing; a wing full of empty rooms. Additionally, three people sat taking breakfast at a table made for fifty was a frankly bizarre sight to behold; with her parents' powers and the lack of threats, the royal guard had all but been disbanded. Naturally, those were the reasons Mum gave rather than Dad. Instead, he'd say something mushy, something about enjoying the domesticity of their little home or how he just wanted his little Purpur to have a regular childhood before she had to worry about those things. Ugh. The central chambers saw use for politics, when important guests came it saw further use still, but beyond that, the building had become somewhat of a tourist draw.

Thoughts of her future reign in the castle carried her all the way there. On occasion she received glances, elder folks would remove their hats and younger kids would stare, tugging at their parent's sleeves or having their heads turned by their parents. She gave affirmative nods and waves but didn't want to risk stopping and missing this mystery guest. The harbour itself was relatively quiet, save for a trio of elderly koalas lugging crab-crates onto dry land. Empty sailing vessels of various shapes, purposes and sizes were anchored within the harbour, protect from the (rather mild) waves.

Heather found a space and took a seat, feet dangling above the water's edge. She'd promised to return within twenty minutes, not that Mum had taken it seriously, but that might've been well outside of her hands. Pending the tides and their visitor's vessel, they could be hours late. The wind was gentle against her fur, the sky a muted orange but it couldn't be long till the sun dro-

A sudden splash pulled Heather from her thoughts; the shock sent her skirting backwards and forced a cry from her throat. Before even thinking to rise, she scanned behind her, fortunately, the fishermen were out of sight and earshot. She was prepared to reprimand herself for letting such a simple thing surprise her when she remembered; the ocean's surface was over five metres beneath her. Heather sat up straight and found that a rather peculiar device had sprouted from the water. It was …a pipe? A pipe coated in rush, a bend near its end, was turning on its axis to look left and right but facing the direction of the sea. The young feline pressed her hands to her shoes, unleashing her symbol's warmth to dry them, and curiously eyed the pipe just in time for it to fully turn to her. There was a glass lens on its end, nothing but darkness within. For a moment, she was locked in a stare-off with the pipe.

It plunged back into the depths without warning, sending forth a geyser of water in its wake. At that Heather clambered to her feet, ignoring the lingering moistness of her shoes to peer down at the water. As quickly as it had appeared, the pipe had vanished without a trace. Nothing but the blue sea, gentle waves rolling on its surface. Brows were nit into a sharp frown as she scanned for any movement, any sign of a machine or a creature. She got more than a sign.

There was an explosion of water, despite jumping back Heather found herself now fully soaked. A hulking metal mass coated in orange rust and long worn blue paint had emerged on the surface, jostling in the wake it had caused. Just as she thought she understood its entirety Heather heard a sound like this hiss of a thousand bottles of lemonade being unscrewed, the giant metal hull cracked like an egg and the rusted shards began to tumble into the sea. In a matter of moments a proper shipping vessel was revealed, a large sailing ship that (judging by its patchwork) had seen more than its lifetime of use. Everything from sheet metal to driftwood had been used to fill gaps in the hull, a large green sail hung from a mast at the boat's centre but at its rear end was an engine that looked much too large for the boat to maintain buoyancy.

"Alright mates, we're back at last! Unload the cargo, I'm off to see my Niece!" That voice, its twang was so familiar. It, the green colour of the sail and what remained of the original boat… the three were very familiar to Heather in a way she couldn't quite place. The ship was much too tall for Heather to see its deck but she could hear the pounding of footsteps and grumbles of sailors atop it.

She walked along the length of the ship, looking for anything else familiar. A worn patch of the original wood stood out, up high and near the bow of the ship. There was an engraving on it of some sort, assumedly the ship's name? It was too high to read, especially in its current state. Heather clenched her fists, mint green energy flared around her person and began to dry her clothes but that was merely a by-product. Soon she was airborne, hovering eye to eye with that faint inscription. What did it say? The Royal Raccoo-

"Strewth! You finally learned how to fly?! Well, it took ya long enough."

Before Heather could turn to the voice on the deck a great weight smacked into her, eyes closed and energy focused as she attempted to slow her tumble to the ground. She, mostly, succeeded; a psychic barrier on her back prevented too much damage, but the weight that had struck her remained. Eyes groggily opened, sat on the young feline's chest was a fully grown raccoon; brown and orange fur in patches all over her face and bright blue eyes smiling down at her. She'd changed a lot but, almost immediately, Heather recognised the older woman's face.

Aunty Marine. Memories of those 'princess tea parties' came flooding back, wearing stupidly billowy pink dresses and strutting around the castle grounds. Whenever Mum and Dad were busy with work, Aunty Marine would take over babysitting. She'd let the young princess do things she, probably, shouldn't; stay up late watching pirate movies, eat ice cream for breakfast and, most irresponsible of all, play princess with the royal treasures. Marine, who would tell her stories of pirates and princesses on the fly, talking for hours on end with next to no prompting but always capturing the young feline's attention. Of all the things she'd shunned in growing more mature, Marine was the linchpin.

Having caught herself staring, still very much beneath the racoon, Heather attempted to compose herself. "G-Good evening Aunty Marine. I-I…" She bit back a snarl, cursing her stutter. "I hope you're well?"

"Aww, mate, knock it off with the formal stuff. By the looks of you I'd thought you'd changed, are you still playin' Princess even now? Hardly look like it though," Did she have to be so loud? When was she going to get off, at least there was no one around. Suddenly a hand was on her forehead, thumb rubbing her jewel before she reached up to ruffle more fur. "Where's all the pink gone? You'd have died for that colour last I saw ya, everthin' had to be pink no matter what. I see you've takin' on a couple of the pirate aesthetics though, earrings are lookin' rippa mate. Surprised your mum let you get that so soon, still, I can…"

The princess' head was spinning, when she was a child Marine's mannerism and endless capacity to speak had been compelling but now she could hardly stomach it. Would she ever stop? Were they going to stay like this until the sunset? She felt her cheeks flare in embarrassment.

"…You've gotten real big haven't ya? When I was last about you were hardly at my waist but now-

An opportunity! The exhausted feline cut in, "D-Do you think you're still taller than me?"

"Oh, that's a good question mate! Let's find out then, hurry up and get up!" Immediately the raccoon was on her feet, a hand extended to Heather.

She opted to take it, dusting herself off having risen. Now that she'd remembered the Raccoon she couldn't help noticing some changes. For one, her dual pigtails had now morphed into a singular boomerang-shaped ponytail. For another, a dark green long-coat and waders had replaced her green sundress. She was tall too, a few inches taller than Heather herself and maybe a couple more than Mum.

"Nah, you're still a shorty. Might beat me someday but you'll never beat ya Dad, how is that lanky dork anyway? Suppose we should set off and see 'em eh?"

Her blush hadn't yet faded but she managed to stand at attention, "Judging by your description, yes. He's as frighteningly foolish as he's always been."

"Aww, that's no way to talk about 'im. Sure he's a big doofus, but he's our big doofus. What, is he still callin' you his lil' Purpur." Heather's fur spiked, "Judgin' by the look of you, you wouldn't like that."

"He promised to stop just today actually," She relinquished, "Though, admittedly, he acted like I was a child afterwards…"

"Well, of course, he did mate, he's your Dad." The raccoon's smile reminded her of his, "Look. I know to you it probably seems like our ages are close, but when I first met your mother she was fourteen while I was seven. Those ages made a world of difference so, even now, I'm sure she won't think of me the same way as she does other adults. I'm like her little leech, and no matter how she tries to flick me away or embrace me; that's what I'll always be to her."

She blinked, "I'm… not sure I follow?"

"Look, your Dad's always gonna think of you as his little girl, so will your Mum for certain, but that doesn't mean you can't grow up. Bein' a kid in their eyes doesn't make you a kid forever mate."

"I guess that's true."

"Adulthood is what you make it, it can be all frilly and pink or, well, more like ya current self." Marine jabbed a thumb to the centre of her chest, "Look to me for inspiration, embrace the ocean! Go sailing, have a crew and sing shanties for years at a time. Bonza!" That didn't sound like proper adulthood, not at all, "Speaking of my crew though, I've got so many stories to share mate! One time we were…"

As anticipated, the raccoon continued to ramble for much of their journey back; her loudness drawing far more sets of eyes than the appearance of royalty. The young heiress found it easy yet difficult to listen. On one hand Heather felt a tinge of excitement and a wave of familiarity, the stories she told matched those she'd made up as a child; high adventure and excitement. But on the other, it was all told in such a childish way. They were the exact brand on nonsense she'd been rejecting.

In short, the sailor had set off on her own accord; bored with the normalcy of the island community following the final defeat of the Eggman family. She'd sailed from island to island, living off the land and bartering the treasures she discovered. The raccoon had been shipwrecked no fewer than twelve times over the eight years, much of her crew had abandoned her during the voyage and, for a length of time she referred to as eons, she'd fought on and off with her greatest rival; a giant squid or octopus, she'd never been quite sure.

It was only as they neared the house, the castle in view, her voice took on a quieter tone. "That old place looks dreary as ever, to be honest, I'm glad you parents moved out of it. All the suits of armour, the precious tapestries and all; just way too much fun to be had, way too easy to get into trouble." Her wide grin quickly returned, "Then again, that's the fun of it. Gardon chasin' after me, tryin' to make me sit still, how is the old fart?"

Heather bit back a sigh at the older woman's foolishness, a half-hearted attempt to maintain her composure in the face of such childishness. "He's well enough, perturbed to be relinquishing more of his duties but he still leads most of my lessons."

"Oh, right, I forgot he must be getting on. Well, he was already grey so I doubt much will have changed. I'll drop in and surprise him, I'm sure he'll have missed me." Before they could reach the front door, Heather felt a hand on her shoulder. Immediately Marine was much too close to the young girl's ear, half whispering. "Oi, I've got a wager for you mate."

Her left ear flickered, "A wager?"

A cunning had washed over bright blue eyes, "When I go in there Silver will surely give me a hug, talking about how he'd missed me, but when he finally releases Blaze will notice how grubby I am and give me a proper earful. I'll give you half my venture's fortune if I'm wrong."

"But… why would you risk that?"

"Just to prove to ya that they'll treat me like I always have, just like you'll always be your daddy's lil' Purpur." At that, Heather could no longer hold her peace.

She stomped her way forward and quickly unlocked the door, holding it open for Marine to enter; glower plain on her face. Heather could stand the childish stories and even the raccoon's ignorance of personal space, but the fluttering in her chest as she heard those words in that nostalgic tone was far too much.

"I am Heather, heir to the throne of Sol and-

"How long has it been since I last kissed you?" Suddenly, Heather's frown was overwhelmed by redness, her fists balled and her eyes closed tight. She knew what was happening; she knew it far too well.

"It was when you arrived, couldn't be more than twenty minutes ago..." Purrs were reverberating up the hall; she could picture it in her mind's eye, bodies so close as they idly waltzed around the kitchen.

"Such a long time…" Heather shuddered; that sentence was undoubtedly paused for a kiss. They were in the living room, they knew a guest was coming, how could they be schmaltzy at a time like this! "I missed you today."

"I missed you more." Heather felt her fur spike, a glance to Marine found the raccoon chuckling; hand plastered over her mouth.

"Oh? Do you really think so?" Why did Mum have to entertain this? She'd been the inspiring guardian of their entire nation since birth, fighting robots and monsters with class, composure, style and dignity. Stern, serious and without scruples… that was, unless Dad was present. If the public knew of their cutesiness they'd surely coup. "I suppose I'll just have to show you the truth then... always forgetting, so naïve." Undoubtedly, lip-lock had resumed. It was always like this in the evening; just before dinner they'd reunite with a kiss and a hug but tonight's sounded especially sappy and gross.

Heather felt her stomach turn; even knowing a guest was coming, they'd were kissing and hugging and being awful. Dad truly brought out the worst in Mum, drawing her in to kiss and cuddle Her eyes closed, head pressed against the door, how long would they keep going? How long until they started to wonder where she was?

Before she could consider it, a firm hand had grasped her own; she was being dragged along the hall. No matter how she dug her heels, Marine's strength seemed to dwarf her own. "Oi, mates! We're here! Did you not hear us come in!? Hello!"

The kitchen door was kicked in, Heather dared to open her eyes and found her parents exactly as he'd anticipated. A purple tail had wrapped around the hedgehog's waist, hands marked with psychic symbols clasped behind the feline's neck. Their foreheads had only just parted but, already, Dad was beaming his usual, stupid, smile.

Released from mum's grasp he shot over, arms binding not only Marine but Heather in a tight hug. "Marine! Its been so long!"

"Aww, big softy! I missed you too Silver, have you got even fluffier? Just don't remember it ticklin' this much," Heather struggled to fold her arms, casting her eyes to the wall. "Could use some warmth to complete the cuddle, think you can handle that Blaze? Don't think lil' Purpur can handle it on her own."

"You're not five minutes back and you've already trampled dirt throughout the house," Things were going exactly as Marine said, "After all these years, I knew I shouldn't have expected any better but, really Marine?"

Marine just laughed, Heather felt the raccoon's arms wrap tighter around her. "Get in here, I'll deal with the mess later; I promise, I promise."

Heather could practically hear her mother roll her eyes, "I highly doubt that."

Despite her reprimand, the Queen quickly joined the huddle; Heather felt a warm hand between her shoulder blades. Trapped, the kitten eventually conceded to the hug; certain a long and embarrassing evening awaited her.