This was written for The Shoppe forum's Old Kingdom Trilogy Rarefics Challenge. This fic is about Mogget's (in cat form) experience with a fellow cat. It kind of shows that dark side of him.
Mogget flicked out his pink tongue to give his chest fur a quick cleaning. He was sure to muffle the ring of the miniature Saraneth around his neck. There was an intruder in the house- well, a passerby. They had displayed no hostile intentions, and Mogget had let them in, so they were more like a guest. He was beginning to regret he had even let his guest in, though. A ravenous, filthy creature had plunged its flea bitten head into a bowl of cream. The bowl of cream was supposed to have been for Mogget, but for some reason Mogget had felt obligated to comply with the unfortunate animal's plea for "a little bit of cream." Perhaps it was because Mogget was feeling the pressures of curiosity.
It was a cat. In some ways, one of his own kind. He wasn't always a cat-he wasn't really a cat, anyway. He didn't mind being alone, except when he did. This was one of the times his captivity was
driving him insane. He liked the company after so long, even if they were flea bitten.
Mystery was playing another large role. It was awfully ponderous. How did a single cat manage to make it to the Abhorsen's house? Where in the Old Kingdom were they from? He gauged she had had a long way to travel to arrive, judging by her appetite. In addition, her pelt was caked with dirt, clumped by mud, and matted by burrs. As she breathed, Mogget could see a few ribs under her thin skin. It may have just been dirt, but Mogget was under the impression she was black. He had only heard her talk twice; once to quickly thank him and then to ask him for the cream. Her voice was high, like most females; her mews had that music quality that was currently overlaid by exhaustion. Her awful etiquette and slyness made Mogget think she was a street cat.
Disdainful, he thought as the cream sloshed down the front of her fur to become crusty and dry.
"Now that you seem to be settled in, I implore you tell me where you are from," Mogget mewed matter-of-factly, speaking in the language of cats. Every cat was born knowing it, so it seemed, but Mogget was one cat that did not appreciate the series of meows, purrs, and hisses. English was the norm for him.
The cat jerked her head up from the dish, her yellow eyes widened in surprise. She tilted her head, acknowledging him and her foreign surroundings. Then she found her voice and stated, "Belisaere."
"No." Mogget swept his tail along the back of the rug in which they were on. He realized with a twinge of apprehension that they were in the Abhorsen's study. He had been resting there before she showed up. The weary cat probably wouldn't notice anything... different about it. He hoped. "Belisaere is much too far for any cat to travel. Perhaps you are from one of the neighboring villages?"
"I am from Belisaere. I came from there," the cat reiterated.
"I see..." Mogget murmured in irritation. He casually rose from his feet and sniffed the air. He was already aware she carried no trace of magic; just the musky taint of being outdoors too long and without a proper washing. The air had not changed. "I see. What is your name?" "I don't have one," the cat promptly responded. "I had no one to name me."
"I ssee…" Mogget hissed a third time. "Well, you need a name. We'll call you Muffins."
"Muffins?" The newly dubbed Muffins raised her voice a fraction, then lowered it to say, "That's-that's not a good name!"
"Aren't you familiar with Muffins?" Mogget asked mildly.
"Of course," Muffins retorted. "The baker makes them. But why as a name?"
"Because I said so," Mogget meowed forcefully. "Because you're a cat, and Muffins is a name just right for a cat."
"And what's your name?"
"Mogget."
"And is that just right for a cat?"
"Well…" Mogget's nose twitched. He didn't like his cat status much. He tried to avoid proclaiming he was a cat whenever possible. "It suits me."
"I don't see why I have to have a name that sounds like a silly food."
"Because cats have silly names!" Mogget pressed.
"That means your name is silly," Muffins announced, thoroughly ashamed that her name was both a people's food and silly. "Mogget. What a silly name." She bent down to lick up more cream.
Mogget ruffled his pelt. He had barely met this cat, and she was already treating him like a servant who disturbed to be lectured. And she had picked the worst thing to lecture her about. "I will not be degraded to this level." He said. Muffins tilted her head curiously. "I have been degraded to this level. I have fallen to the bottom of the chain, and will always live with this humiliation and shame. But I will never fall to the level of a common cat."
"You are a common cat." Muffins said, confused.
Mogget felt his claws unsheathe. "I am not a common cat."
"You're not?" Muffins wondered aloud. "You mean, not a cat…?" Her weak mind was reeling. She could recall the faintest bits and pieces of past events; events that didn't make sense either. She had gradually forgotten them because her fur ball brain couldn't comprehend it. Now it was all slinking back to leave her utterly baffled. "That doesn't make sense."
Mogget was pleased to see that she, like any normal animal, was so feeble minded. It would keep her from interfering too much. He figured enlightening her would improve his image and offer her consolidation; much like the bowl of cream. "You know about magic? It's real. It's magic."
"Oh," Muffins said dazedly. Now the past horrors of Belisaere and her journey were recollected. It would all make sense if it was magic. "Oh."
"I'm not a cat," Mogget meowed proudly. "I'm not a cat."
In shock and exhaustion, Muffins passed out.
OOOOO
She remembered very well where she should be; a damp corner of a dark alley. But she didn't seem to be there… no, she wasn't there. She was somewhere else; she was…
Mogget's. Of course.
She remained limp and numb as things flooded back, especially Mogget's words: "I'm not a cat."
Then what was he?
Magic. Of course.
Magic. That could explain everything.
"I'm leaving." Muffins raised her voice from her place on the rug. Looking around the dim room, she couldn't find Mogget. Where could he be? "I'm leaving. Hello?"
"What?" Mogget suddenly appeared around the partially opened door. Muffins almost recoiled. But this is a good cat. He shared his cream with you.
"I-I hope you don't mind. I want to leave," Muffins stated.
To her surprise, Mogget flung back his head and let out an eerie, caterwauling laugh. "Leave," he gasped when he recovered. "Leave? And go where?"
"Anywhere," Muffins shrugged. "Anywhere is better than where I've been."
"You'll be killed," Mogget meowed, biting back a remark about how much he wouldn't care.
"How?" Muffins pondered. "There are people to help. Good people, actually. Like the one that took me here."
Mogget stared at her, dumbfounded. Someone had taken her here? He thought he had just stumbled upon it on her own. But- if someone had brought her here, the Abhorsen's House could be at risk. Or…
"…Sabriel" He grumbled. Didn't she have better things to do? Even with a lull in the Dead's activity; even though she knew of Mogget's boredom, didn't she have better things to do? "Alright, you may go. See if I care, anyway," he mumbled.
Muffins jumped to her feet. He noted that she had washed her pelt, and it was a dark coal black. She was recovered from her unconsciousness; even rejuvenated. That's how fur balled minds work.
"Goodbye. And thank you," Muffins said cheerfully. She padded up to him. She jerked her head out awkwardly to give him a lick behind the ear. "You sure look like a cat, Mogget."
"Goodbye," Mogget said tersely. "Just go straight out and to your right. The door should be open."
Without another word Muffins meandered out the door, to the right, and out the main door; which was open a crack. Mogget didn't go to check if she had made it beyond the stepping stones. A common cat couldn't survive out there alone for long, anyway.
OOOOO
"Mogget!" Sabriel called as she stepped inside the Abhorsen's House.
"Coming, mistress!" Mogget yowled. He flew down the steps to see the Abhorsen with great reluctance, but with a burning question. "How was your trip? I suppose you met no… fur balls along the way?"
"None. But I did encounter a cat," Sabriel said airily.
Mogget pricked his ears. "Really?"
"She was adorable, and all alone," Sabriel explained. She cracked a smile. "Wasn't she?"
Mogget curled back his lips in a snarl. "Very funny, Abhorsen."
"Oh, Mogget," Sabriel chuckled. She reached forward to stroke his fur. Seething a little, Mogget complied. "I knew you were getting lonely. Wasn't it interesting, at least?"
"We were both very unhappy. I think we both wanted her to leave," Mogget said haughtily.
Sabriel laughed. "Fur ball brains think alike."
That… did not turn out like I was expecting. I didn't have time to rewrite due to lack of a muse and plenty of other things to do. I'm a little disappointed, but it's better than nothing! What did you think? Reviews are always adored.
