A/N This is in recognition of Keefe Sencen Appreciation Day!!! Therefore, this chapter is dedicated to the one and only Keefe Sencen. (This doesn't count as the dedication chapter for the predictions of the last chapter. But please go make a prediction! What do you think Fitz's plan is?)

Keefe awoke in the darkness to someone struggling in the bed next to him. He yawned, opening his eyes. Tangled in the blankets with tears pouring from her eyes was Sophie, still beautiful as ever. Of course, seeing her distressed didn't make him happy. With concern written across his brow, Keefe sat up using his elbows to push himself away from the comfortable mattress. 

Sophie was clenching a pillow to her chest and whimpering, obviously having a nightmare. Keefe's heart sunk in his chest to see Sophie so upset. When he had offered for her to sleep in his room after she had come to him, complaining that her room was stuffy and uncomfortable, she had told him that they were to stay on opposite sides of the bed and he wasn't to touch her under any circumstances. She had declared the latter rule after he had suggested snuggling with a suggestively raised eyebrow.

Keefe decided the rules didn't apply if she was crying in a nightmare. So, he slowly inched over to her and his breath caught in his throat at the state she was in. Then he did something he had wanted to do for forever: comfort her. Sophie was always a fortress, keeping all of her stress and worries to herself. Keefe wanted to help. He untangled the sheets from her arms and legs and then relaid them on top of her. He pried the pillow from her fingers, and then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. Sophie subconsciously wrapped her arms around Keefe as well.

He held her tight, his lips pressed to her temple. Him on his side, Sophie on her back. She slowly stopped whimpering, but the tears were still flowing from her tightly shut eyes. Keefe raised one arm and began to brush the wet hair away from her face. Then Keefe surprised himself as he was never really a "romantic." He kissed her tears away.

Sophie's skin burned under Keefe's lips, and he couldn't stop himself from pulling her into an even tighter hug. He turned her towards him and kissed the tip of her nose. Unfortunately, looking at her now peaceful, maybe even content, sleeping face reminded him that Sophie was in love Fitz. A thought that hurt him more than the sight of Sophie in a nightmare. 

Keefe stiffly pulled away from Sophie and unhooked her arms from around his neck. He lightly pushed her to where she had been sleeping before her nightmare. He grabbed the pillow she had been strangling and held it the way she had, understanding why she was trying to use it as a comfort in her dream. He kept his eyes closed and tried to forget what had happened how strongly he had loved her in the few moments before.

He felt his lips droop into a frown, and then he felt lips on his own. His eyes fluttered open to see Sophie's closed. Sophie was kissing him. He kissed her back wrapping his arms around her once again. He felt absolutely buoyant. The girl he loved more than anyone else in the entire world had kissed him, him!

When she pulled away, Keefe was still marvelling at her beauty, but to his defence, she was staring at him as well. "Like what you see, Foster?" He whispered quietly, a genuine smile dancing across his lips. The same lips she had kissed seconds before.

For a moment Sophie didn't answer and Keefe was worried he had said something wrong, but then she buried her face in his chest and muttered, "Too much, Keefe."

Although the answer made him beyond happy he was confused as to why she was hiding her face. He held her shoulders and gently pulled her away from him. Tears were cascading like waterfalls down her cheeks once more. "My dream, Keefe," she whispered, not meeting his eyes.

"What happened Sophie?" Keefe asked, he used her real name. 

Sophie gulped, looked down, and began to play with her hands. Keefe put both of his hands on hers and enveloped them in his warmth.

"Please tell me what happened, Sophie, I want to help."

"Foster," she all but whispered, "I like Foster." Then she was quiet for a moment. "Only you call me Foster."

Keefe wiped her tears away with his thumbs and waited for her to continue.

"You died," Sophie said so quietly he almost didn't hear her. "They killed you, in front of me. It was horrible and I- all I could think about was how much I didn't want them to hurt you, I just, I love you too much."

 The words hit Keefe like a truck, but he didn't hesitate before whispering back, "I love you, too. More than anything Soph- Foster," Keefe finished, remembering her request, then he kissed her again. "I'm not going anywhere. They'll never hurt me, or you." Then, "Foster, how often do you get nightmares?"

"They aren't usually that bad."

"How often?" Keefe pushed.

"I don't know... I guess every night." Keefe sucked in a sharp breath and pulled Sophie even closer. He didn't know what to say, but then Sophie spoke again. "I came in here because I felt uneasy all day. I knew I wouldn't sleep good, and well, I could just tell you would comfort me. You always do." She said the last part looking into his eyes.

"I will, forever, Foster."

Logan awoke in the sunlight to someone moving nearby him. "Prince Logan, it's past ten Sir, your father is waiting for you." A servant stood in Logan's room and it took quite a bit of pushing for Logan to convince him to leave the room with the promise he would meet his father.

He was always slow in the mornings, but today he was even slower. He just couldn't get a dream he had dreamt the night before out of his mind. Why did he feel so connected to the girl on his Selection list, Willow Lark. Why did they call each other different names? The dreams obviously came from somewhere, there was no way his brain had made it all up itself. Logan was going to get to the bottom of it and he knew that Willow Lark was either very dangerous as his dad had written on her application, or she was in trouble and he was the only one who could help.

He also couldn't shake the feeling that they were meant to be. A thought that put a bounce in his step as he walked through the palace.