Something nudged the Authoress's shoulder, and she cracked open an eye. A pair of emerald-green eyes stared back. They were surrounded by dark silver fur and a mane of white hair. It was Rodimus Silverfox, the Shonari.
Instantly awake, the Authoress raised her head. "What is it?"
"We're about to have company," Rodimus's mate, Magnus Redfox, a.k.a. Ultra Magnus,
rumbled from behind.
Red mist was swirling around the bed, and the walls had vanished.
"Not again!" the Authoress groaned. Then something occurred to her. "If blue mist brought Autobots, red means Decepticons, right?"
"That's right." Rodimus settled on the Authoress's right.
"Here they come." Magnus settled on her left.
A moment later, two versions of Megatron, three variations of Starscream, one Galvatron, and a dozen other Decepticons stood around the bed. None of them looked happy.
"What do you want?" the Authoress asked.
"Revenge!" both Megatrons chorused. "Revenge for how you tortured us!"
"Been there, done that," she said, bored. "All fanfic authors torment you in one way or another ever time they write a story. You can't go after them all. We authors have the power to do anything under the sun to you. Messing with us only invites worse torture later. So quit while you're ahead."
The two Shonari nodded their agreement. Rodimus gestured for the Decepticons to leave, and Galvatron shoved the cannon on his arm in the foxbot's face.
"Don't presume to order Galvatron around, fleshbot!" the insane Decepticon screeched, and the others winced.
"I'm tired of being laser bait!" Starscream complained, indicating the numerous shot wounds on his red and white body. "I want to be the victor for once! I'm sick of being cannon fodder for your precious Autobots and your sickening Shonari pets! I'm not leaving until I get my vengeance!"
He lifted his arms and aimed his laser guns at the Authoress. The two Megatrons and Galvatron aimed their arm-mounted fusion and plasma cannons at her. The other Decepticons pulled out guns, aiming at the Authoress and the two Shonari, who were tensed for trouble. As she stared down the business ends of nearly two dozen assorted laser, fusion, and plasma weapons, the Authoress realized this may be the end of her.
All eyes turned to a patch of blue mist as two of the Authoress's more formidable creations arrived: Rodimus Ilrienh, the Cold One, god of Winter, and his mate, Magnus Ithallion, the North Wind. Frigid air swirled around the duo. The two Shonari cuddled closer to their mistress, sharing body heat. They fluffed out their body fur to cover more of her body as her two creations approached.
Rodimus Ilrienh resembled an ice statue. His skin was white, the color of snow. Pale ice-blue eyes stared out of an incredibly handsome, chiseled face, beneath eyebrows of pale silver, the same color as his hair and eyelashes. He wore a long silk robe lined with white fox fur, knee-high boots of walrus hide and lined with sealskin, a long cloak made from the full pelt of an ice bear (a creature resembling a six-legged polar bear with poison fangs and three eyes), and a circlet of pale crystal on his brow. His knee-length silver hair hung loose down his back. He had a body temperature of absolute zero, and tended to make the temperature of the air around him plunge. No one but his mate could safely touch him. Anyone else would instantly freeze, their blood turned to ice, their muscles as hard as steel, every part of their body containing liquid bursting as the fluids froze and expanded. They would die in less than a second.
Magnus Ithallion was a head taller than his mate, the physical incarnation of the frigid North Wind, the Ice Wind, which brought winter's chill to the lands. His skin was pale blue, his hair a strange translucent shade of midnight blue. His eyes were the palest gray, with darker gray pupils. He was dressed in a robe of reindeer hides trimmed with ermine, knee-high fur-lined boots, and a cloak of silk lined with fox. His body was as cold as the deity's, which is why only he could touch the god of Winter's exposed skin and not freeze to death.
The Decepticons shrank back as the two neared. They'd been prepared to take on a helpless human storywriter, not her most dangerous creation and most loyal servant. Created characters were loyal to their creators as a rule, but Rodimus Ilrienh was the most loyal to his creatress. Tangling with the two Shonari was bad enough, but they only had their natural weapons: their teeth and claws; but tangling with an enraged deity whose loyalty was absolute and had the power to wipe them out of existence with a wave of his hand was incredibly foolhardy. The Authoress had created several deities, but the Cold One, so titled because of his frigid body and equally frigid attitude, was the most dangerous of them all.
"Tangling with the mistress means tangling with me, and I sincerely doubt you want to mess with me," the deity growled, eyes flashing with barely-suppressed rage. His rage meant a full-blown blizzard and temperatures mirroring his body temperature, or lack thereof. "Leave while you still can."
Whimpering, the Decepticons turned and fled into the scarlet mist. Magnus sent a blast of arctic air after them to make sure they kept running. The crimson mist vanished with them, leaving only the blue.
Turning on his heel, Rodimus Ilrienh faced the Authoress. Pale ice-blue eyes met dark blue. After a moment, the deity bowed deeply.
"Mistress," he murmured.
"I'd rather be your friend," she told him.
He nodded, and a smile touched his lips. "Then we shall be friends, My Lady. If you ever need us, call and we will come."
He smiled again, gave her a half-bow, and vanished into the mist, his mate following a moment later. Only the two Shonari were left.
"Go back to sleep now," Magnus crooned. "We will watch over you until the morning comes."
"Thank you. Both of you."
She hugged them both, then settled down, pillowing her head on Magnus's soft side, with Rodimus curled up against her back, using the warmth of his body to disperse the last of the Cold One's chill. As before, she fell asleep to the soothing sound of their purring, knowing that all would be well in the morning.