Nikita curled on Erik's bed, miserably missing him.

Master had been sent on a boat somewhere to do important things for the kingdom.  Things he said others couldn't do.  Nikita had wanted to join him, but Master had said that Nikita had to stay and make sure everyone remembered him.  So every day, Nikita curled up at the foot of the throne during open court, not letting anyone sit on it.  And at the closed staff meetings that he wasn't allowed in, he sat by the door and watched them as they entered and left.

He didn't let them forget his existance either.  He listened to rulings at court, and when the proxy made a judgement he knew that Master wouldn't like, he growled deeply at the man until it was changed.

He knew everyone was shocked at him.  Harem children usually weren't this loyal.  Without a master present, most would just let things be.  But Nikita knew that his loyalty to Erik was the most important thing in his life.

He sighed, trying to get to sleep under the comforter.  There was residual warmth from Erik's frequent presence in the bed, but the lack of the concrete being sapped it and made it harder for Nikita to sleep.  Master had been gone for days and hadn't been heard from.  Nikita had tried the silent talk, but it was too far, or maybe water dampened it, or maybe because he was only half elf it didn't reach.  He didn't know.

Master would.

There was a knock on the door; a series of three quick ones followed by two slower ones and three more quick.  Nikita rose slowly, wondering what the Harem Master would want with him.

The man entered and Nikita bowed to him, face turned down appropriately so the master could pat his head.

"Nikita," he started, "Why are you still here?"

"I don't understand," he said flatly, voice easily returning to the soft tones he had used when first taken in by Erik.

"The Priss is dead by now," the master said, using the Harem's favorite nickname for the chaste and discriminating king.  "That's what they were all striving for, at least, and he hasn't been heard from.  I'm sure if he were alive he'd have made some contact by now.  It's time for you to come and retake your place in our halls."

"Master told Nikita to stay until his return.  Master has not returned or loosed Nikita from his duties.  Nikita will stay."

"Your loyalty is commendable," the master said patiently, "but of no use in this situation.  The object of your loyalty is no longer among the living."

"Master is not dead," Nikita said softly.  Surely if Master were hurt, or in trouble-- certainly if he were....  Nikita would know.

He hugged himself, hand covering the astral mark on his arm.  The indelable proof that he belonged to Erik.  Nothing could change that.  Certainly not something so petty as death.

But Master wasn't dead!

"I am sorry," he said.  "Master will return.  Nikita will continue his duties so Master will not be displeased with him."  He smiled, dropping his eyes demurely.

"Fine," the master said.  "If you want to wait until the official announcement that's your prerogative.  We'll expect you after that."

They would expect for nothing.  Master wasn't dead.

He wasn't.

Really.

Couldn't be.

Nikita had never said the words.  Master couldn't be dead.

He locked the door behind the retreating Harem Master and curled under the comforter again.  Crying miserably, he finally slept.
 
 

Nikita crawled out from under his blankets, eyes still mostly shut.  It didn't take him long to wake, as he was used to waking almost as early as his Master.  He looked at the newly empty bed sadly.  With Erik gone, he slept alone and didn't like it.  Master was warm and strong next to him, but gone.

He stretched slowly, warming up for his morning's exercises.  He liked the smoothness of the exercise and how it focussed his concentration.  It was part of how the Harem kept fit and part of how they were taught to keep their attention on a fixed point.

Master had admired the motion of the exercise and said it looked almost martial.

Master preened in the morning and did his own exercise.  Strength exercise, although he didn't need it.  Nikita could feel his Master's strength as if there were a physical manifestation of it.  It felt so safe to him, because he knew Erik would always use that strength to defend him and protect him.

After finishing the exercise, he bathed.  Keeping clean was another way to show everyone that Erik was still there.

He thought of the conversation with the Harem Master the previous night.  To prove that Erik was coming back.

The guard at the door when he left for breakfast leered at him.  Leered.  At the King's pet.  They at least knew enough not to do that when Master was there.

Nikita's heart sank.  Was he thought so surely gone after only a few days?

He wanted to show them all that they underestimated the one who was the best of them.

He wanted these brainless, magic-less pretenders to see the level of nothing that they truly were.

He wanted his Master back.

He wanted to curl up under his Master's arms and let the words he hadn't said pour forth like a waterfall.

He told the guard to make sure no one entered that wasn't allowed, and the man grunted and said he'd do that for Nikita himself - as long as he could enter - but not for a room.

Nikita bit him, giving him the same order he had the previous one.  He wondered briefly where that man was and if he was able to deal with his new job with the compulsion to be a good guard.  He hoped so.

The King's Table wasn't set when Nikita arrived in the dining room.  The servant sneered at him to eat off the floor if he was so hungry.  Nikita glared at him, baring fangs.  Blanching slightly, the servant set a quick place and went for food.

The food was clean.  It was almost funny that none of the chefs had been ordered to try and poison the food while Erik was gone.  Except that it showed too clearly how much of a target Erik was and Nikita wasn't.  Anyone trying to hurt Nikita would find the Harem knocking on his door with guards of their own, trained to loyalty from birth as the children had been.

Breakfast was quick.  Master always took his time and had stories to tell Nikita about the Human realm or about Elves or one of the other races.  Without that, there was nothing to keep Nikita there, so he didn't dawdle.

He had to get to the throne room early, to keep his presence remembered.
 

Nikita lounged against the throne, eyes slowly closing.  The problems being brought to the proxy king were so simple that the guard he had just bitten could have solved them correctly with little thought.  Certainly there was no need for him to keep up with the situation when the hardest problem brought in so far was whether a calf just born to a newly sold cow belonged to the new owner or the old.

He was just starting to drift into a light sleep when he was startled back to waking by loud voices.  A low cast demon, one of the court servants, was being dragged in by two guards.  Nikita smiled slightly, recognizing his blood slave as one of them.

The servant had fangs that were splayed, but he wasn't a vampire so there was no threat of bondage to them.  He was bloody and both clothes and skin were torn.  He also appeared to have been crying.  Nikita could see tear tracks down his cheeks.  He didn't struggle with the guards.  He just sat quietly.

The noise had come from the other newcomer to the court.  It was a high born female demon.  She looked to be in almost perfect condition - hair still in all its combs - except the long tear down her arm that dripped blood on the floor.  She was red - redder - with anger, and her horns looked like they were dripping venom, as some demons did when angry.

"Quiet!" the proxy screeched in his soprano bird's voice.  "What is the meaning of this?"

"He attacked me!" the woman roared in what might normally be a quite pleasant bass. She leveled a finger at the quiet servant.

He looked up at her in shock.  "No, I was defending-" he started, only to be cut off by the proxy's order of execution.  Nikita growled warningly, but that made no difference.

"The thought," the proxy said, ignoring Nikita's warning, "That a puny thing like that would dream of taking on a high demon is disgusting."  He sneered at the now shivering servant.

Nikita growled louder, trying to get the attention of someone else who could argue the sentence.

"You deserve nothing less for your presumption.  How you could even think to touch someone so obviously far above you-"

"Was his right if he was attacked!" Nikita bellowed.  Everyone turned to look at him.  He had risen and dropped his fangs, letting the full measure of his beauty and deadliness become apparent to the whole court.  "All are allowed to defend themselves."  Adding a mental level to his words, he continued.  "Let that servant go."

To the surprise of all, one of the guards listened to him.  The servant looked at him in awe and dropped to his knees.

He barely spared the man a glance, turning and baring his fangs at the equally awed woman.  "Do not burden the court with your nonsense.  This is not the King's justice."  In the silence that followed, he sat lightly in Erik's throne.  He knew his Master would
understand and approve.  And this way, he almost felt closer to him.  "Proceed to the next case."  He stared hard at the proxy.

The man gave him a strange smile before returning to his work.