A/N: Once again, I have no idea what I'm doing. This just kind of happened. I'm sorry if you hate Jemima, but I love her, so literally any inspiration I have includes her in some way or another. I left this with a really open ending- make of it what you will. I doubt I'll add anything unless somebody asks me too. Again, sorry for the sporadic uploads. I have commitment issues.
Jemima watched from the shadows of the pipes, the moon's music seeming to circle round her tiny form. The melody was etched in all the cats' minds- they only heard it once a year, and it was easily forgotten as the months wore on, but at the first note it was clear as day in their heads once more. The moon's song was as much a part of their identity as the telltale black-and-white, the not-too-big, and the urge to dance that all kittens were born with. It was a part of them; the notes and rhythm flowed in their bloodstream.
And this was probably the most beautiful accompanist to the song that Jemima would ever see in her nine lives. She understood from the moment that Victoria stepped into the moonlight, even at her young age, that she would forever remember the way the white cat moved. Her movements were light as air, gentle yet commanding, an ethereal balance between strength and fragility. She was captivating, and it sent spiders crawling down Jemima's body. The performance was otherworldly.
Just a tail-length in front of her at the mouth of the pipe, Quaxo rested on his haunches, his mouth open in awe just like every other cat in the yard, his eyes sparkling with the magic of the dance. His tail, probably unknowingly, danced in languid tune with the music, his paws tapping gently as his sister curled herself into her final pose. She held it for not more than a second, and then Quaxo bolted upright.
And just like that, the magic was broken. He bounded out of the pipe, gave her an affectionate rub, and then the siblings were up and dancing as he excitedly told the tale of the Ball that the kittens knew by heart. Jemima watched them, their electric energy drawing a smile to her face.
The pair had been the talk of the Yard when they were born. Such talented kittens, and so beautiful too, everyone had said. It was no secret that they were both exceptional dancers; they had been since they could walk. Quaxo had taken a shine to it right away, and by watching Victoria followed and had clearly almost surpassed her older brother's skills. Now, watching them together, Jemima felt as if everyone was witnessing the same thing as her- the pair had finally grown up. Victoria had never looked so beautiful. Her white fur practically glowed, perhaps from the gentle moonlight, or perhaps from the elation that the performance had given her. Beside her, Quaxo could not look more proud as he danced with his younger sister, the dark litheness of his body contrasting her elegant bright one. Eyes beaming, he took her hand one last time before he let her disappear into the crowd.
Jemima's eyes followed the white queen as she made her way through the sea of colourful fur, and then she stepped out of the pipe's shadows, giving her friend a smile. A look of relief immediately took over Victoria's face, and she bounded over to Jemima. The two nuzzled and hugged, ignoring Munkustrap as he began his speech. Jemima could feel Victoria trembling and she held her close, whispering meaningless praise.
Vicky had gone through a lot in the months leading up to the Ball. There had been times where Jemima had wanted to kill her, had wanted to scream and yell and suck out the poison that the white cat seemed to bring with her. At times she felt that they were a million miles apart and that when she looked at her she wasn't really there. But she was here now, and Jemima had to forgive everything that had happened between them. She had to forgive Vicky's vanity and her fragility. She had to forgive, because she loved her.
No matter what how mean the white queen could be and no matter how much Jemima retaliated with awful words, they were best friends and Jemima loved her.
She squeezed Victoria closer, opening her eyes briefly as she breathed in her scent. Across the Yard and over Vicky's shoulder, she could see Quaxo standing in the shadows, watching her with a reverent smile.
Jemima swallowed and began to withdraw from their embrace, motioning to Victoria to pay attention to Munkustrap but with her eyes still on the black cat. Everyone had loved both siblings since their birth.
And as Quaxo made eye contact with her, she felt her heart skip a beat, her mouth open slightly as if to catch any scent of him that might have traversed the Yard, and it seemed she was no different.