Mysterious Ways
Meanwhile, in Macavity's lair...
HGP, I think I missed you before you left on holiday, but enjoy! I'll see you when you get back. Lover of Few Words, I suspect you're right, but poor Tugger's under a lot of stress right now! sfeather, you've got to love Alonzo! I just wish I could have given him a bigger part. Maybe in a future fic. the1andonlyofo, I hope so too! They could use a break.
Disclaimical: T.S. Eliot created these kitties, Andrew Lloyd Webber made them sing and dance. I just play with them, like so many toy mice. I came up with the hench-cats, but I have to be honest, they're assholes.
A big fish-pasty thank-you to CrazyIndigoChild for being my beta-reader! If you haven't seen it yet, go read her Munk/Misto mpreg fic, For What It's Worth. It's a fantastic twist on mpreg!
20. A Fiend in Feline Shape
"I don't understand," Demeter sighed. Mistoffelees heard her grunt with effort, then furiously scratch at something wooden, until she abandoned the effort with a huff. "There wasn't a door here before. But now there's something covering the doorway; I can't move it at all."
"It's all right," Mistoffelees said. "You'd best come back down before they hear you."
He carefully stepped around the collapsed remains of a bed frame, curling one arm around his belly and mindful not to trip over the junk littering the basement floor. A box of old spoons and forks, brittle with rust, had been upturned onto the ground and spilled into a pile of funny-looking toys, the kind human kittens liked to play with; wooden blocks painted garish colors, strange constructs that looked like miniature versions of Skimble's train, dirty and singed plush pollicles and other creatures he didn't recognize. Mistoffelees lightly kicked one of the wooden blocks and sent it skittering out of his way.
After Macavity's brief visit, he and Demeter had managed to sleep restlessly for a few hours, curled around one another on the nest of blankets. Now awake and marginally energized, they had begun exploring their prison, searching for a crack or a hole, anything they could use to escape.
Unfortunately, the basement walls were solid and seamless. The only exits were the entrance by the staircase, which now lay blocked, and the single, high window, which was too far to jump to. Demeter had earlier entertained the possibility of piling up the discarded furniture from the basement so they could climb to the window, but even though the abandoned bureaus and chairs were old, they were too heavy for the two cats to push around.
Demeter had decided to refocus her efforts on the staircase entrance, but she did not seem to be having much luck. Macavity had made sure there was no escape and in any case, the hench-cats sat between them and freedom.
Finally giving up, Demeter dejectedly bounded down the stairs to rejoin Mistoffelees. He was about to give up his own search; there was nothing to do but paw through human junk, and the prospect wasn't very appealing.
Stepping over a pile of yellowing books, Mistoffelees anchored his claws into the bed frame and stretched with a groan; his tail lashed out erratically, trying to ease the ache in his back.
Demeter quietly padded over to his side. "Does something hurt?"
"Not really," Mistoffelees murmured. "My back, but… it always hurts lately. The kittens are so heavy now."
Demeter stepped a little closer, pressing her hands to his back, and began to gently knead at him. He sighed in relief; she wasn't nearly as strong as Tugger, but the gentle massage was a help. A few moments later, he heard Demeter's soft laugh, and realized with a small flush of embarrassment that he'd started purring.
"Easy there," she said. "Or Tugger will get jealous."
"He knows I only have eyes for him," Mistoffelees said. He smiled, and then hissed as her hand pressed against a particularly sore spot on his lower back.
"As long as he feels the same," Demeter said softly. "I have to ask, what do you see in that cat? He makes me want to tear my fur out sometimes."
She had asked so gently that it was difficult to take offense. And truth be told, Mistoffelees had asked himself the same question often enough.
"There's a side to Tugger you don't know, not like I do," Mistoffelees said. "Hardly anyone does. Tugger likes to play around for attention, but when he's serious- he can make you feel like you're the only cat on earth. And I know it's not an act."
"Munkustrap is like that too," Demeter said. "Well, except for the attention part. But he does have a way of looking at me that makes it seem like no other queen matters. I suppose they get it from their father."
"And besides, I'm carrying his kittens. I have no choice but to find him incredibly charming." Mistoffelees glanced at her over his shoulder. "When we get out of here—because we will get out of here—you'll have to promise to continue disliking Tugger, else I might get jealous."
"Don't worry," Demeter said with a weak smile. "I'll be sure to scratch and bite him so he never suspects."
Mistoffelees smiled and loosened his claws from the bed frame, slowly straightening up. It was nice to see Demeter smile too.
The cheery atmosphere quickly turned cold as the loud noise of wood scraping against wood came from the top of the stairs.
The scraping sound stopped and the stairs creaked lightly under the weight of a cat. Mistoffelees reached over to pull Demeter into his arms as they both stared at the staircase; they did not move from their spot behind the bed frame, as though it could somehow offer protection from Macavity.
As a cat bounded down into view, Mistoffelees relaxed. It was only Cheswick, the black-furred tom, and he was alone. Yesterday, he had brought them a few mice to eat and water to drink; now, he carried a large bowl, and glared wordlessly at the two huddled Jellicles as he stepped down the stairs.
They made no move to approach or address him as he set the bowl down close to their nest of blankets. Though Mistoffelees had a loathing for both hench-cats, he was somewhat more pleased to see that Cheswick seemed to be in charge of feeding them instead of the other tom, Bixbite. Mistoffelees did not like the way that one kept leering at Demeter.
Cheswick gave them both a long stare, as though waiting for them to make a move before he could leave. "You'd best eat up now," he said. "Boss will be in to chat with you soon."
"What does he want?" Mistoffelees asked. He was feeling a little braver in front of the solitary tom, but he still didn't step away from the scant protection offered by the bed frame.
Cheswick gave him another unreadable stare, then glanced down at Mistoffelees' stomach. "Not my place to say," the tom mumbled, and with that, he turned tail and bounded back up the stairs.
It was only after the awful scraping sound came and left again that Mistoffelees dared to uncurl his arms from Demeter, and both carefully stepped back towards their blankets nest.
Mistoffelees peered down at what Cheswick had brought them; it was an earthenware bowl, filled almost to the brim with dead fat mice and fresh fish. Fish was a bit of a luxury back at the junkyard and it was disconcerting to think that Macavity was intent on feeding them so well. They were clearly meant to be here a while.
Mistoffelees stared dolefully at the food. It did smell terribly good, and he was hungry. Yesterday, he had nibbled pitifully at one of the mice, his appetite lacking, and feeling as though he should be refusing any offered food out of principle, though he knew the kittens wouldn't benefit from his stubbornness. Demeter, for her part, had not eaten anything, though she also stared at the offerings.
"You need to eat something," Demeter quietly urged. "Please, for the kittens."
Mistoffelees nodded; it wouldn't do either of them any good to be stubborn. With Demeter's help he lowered himself to the blankets, absently rubbing at his side as one of the kittens kicked him. "Only if you eat something too."
Demeter obliged, curling up next to him and taking one of the mice. She picked at it, taking small bites, and Mistoffelees reached for one of the fish, trying hard not to greedily swallow it whole.
They ate quietly for a few moments. As Demeter carefully finished her mouse, she glared in the direction of the staircase.
"How are they doing that?" she asked. "How are they shutting us in here?"
Mistoffelees glanced at the staircase; he knew there was no door up there, and had a fairly good idea of what Macavity had done. He swallowed his mouthful of fish before answering, "Magic, I would guess."
Demeter gave him a long-suffering look; despite the rather obvious effects of his magic, Mistoffelees knew it was difficult for some of the Jellicles to think of it as more than just kittenish tricks.
"So, it's an illusion?"
"No, not at all," Mistoffelees said. "Macavity's magic is dead real, and dangerous. He made fire tear through these houses, I'm sure of it. It's just a case of—wait a moment."
He glanced around the junk on the basement floor and spotted something worthwhile; the wooden block he had kicked out of his way earlier, which now sat just out of reach. There were little symbols painted in blue on its side, something meant to amuse human kittens.
"Look at that toy," Mistoffelees said. He pointed to the block and made sure Demeter could see it. He held out his hand and splayed out his fingers, concentrating until he had a feel for the block in his mind. Giving it a little mental pull, the block skittered across the floor and floated up to rest in the palm of his hand.
"Oh," Demeter said, staring at the block.
"It's basic magic," Mistoffelees said, putting the block down on the blanket between them. "At least, I think it is. It was one of the first things I figured out to do and it almost helped us get away back in the junkyard. I imagine Macavity knows the same magic, only he's using it to put much bigger blocks in our way."
"Like… like what?" Demeter asked. She warily picked at the wooden block with her claw.
Mistoffelees shrugged lightly. "Probably a bureau, or something just as big. Something too heavy for us to move. Only Macavity can move it back and forth; so that means nothing gets in or out of here unless Macavity is there too."
Demeter gave another glare towards the staircase. "Can't you move whatever Macavity put there? Like you did with this block?"
"I… I don't think I can," Mistoffelees said. "Moving a little block is easy. But I've tried moving bigger objects before, and I can't do it. I think I can only move things I'd have the strength to move with my arms."
"You said you could make things appear and disappear, right?" Demeter asked. "Can you make us disappear from here? Reappear at the junkyard? Or just outside this house?"
Mistoffelees frowned; her insistence was beginning to make him uncomfortable. "I don't really know how… I've never done it with living things before. It wouldn't be safe-"
"What about fire?" Demeter interrupted. "Macavity can make fire. Can't you do that too? You could burn the bureau, or scare Macavity and his hench-cats, or-"
"Demeter! I don't know how. Everlasting Cat, I'm not like him!"
He hadn't meant to get so hysterical, but she was bringing up a point he had been trying to avoid: he was completely and utterly helpless against Macavity. His magic was crude and unpracticed, and maybe he should have been more serious about perfecting it. But he had nothing now to protect himself, and nothing to protect his kittens.
"I'm sorry," Demeter murmured. "I didn't mean—I'm sorry, Misto."
"Don't be-" He was interrupted from saying more as the large piece of furniture was loudly moved at the top of the stairs. Immediately, Demeter's arms went around him, pulling him close as though she was intending to protect him. Mistoffelees swallowed hard and tightly held on to Demeter's arms.
The stairs creaked heavily with the sound of multiple heavy steps, and Macavity himself soon appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He looked terribly casual as he looked down at them; Bixbite stood to his left, grinning boldly, while Cheswick stood on the other side, looking rather bored.
"You both look well," Macavity said. His manner was, once again, disgustingly kind. "Are you both comfortable? Have you eaten well? What about you?" He made a sweeping motion towards Mistoffelees. "I've been told expecting cats sometimes crave particular foods. Is there anything you would like me to bring you?"
Mistoffelees said nothing; Demeter's embrace tightened around him.
"Why the silent treatment?" Macavity asked. "Have I been unkind? All right; my dear Demeter, I did use a bit of force to bring you over here the other day. And for that, I apologize. But neither of you have been mistreated since, and everything can continue exactly in such a way. We can learn to live peacefully together."
Mistoffelees felt Demeter bristle against him. "One big happy family?" she spat. "Forget it."
Macavity took a few steps closer and crouched before them; Mistoffelees tensed, expecting Demeter's defiance to be met with violence, but there came no blow or strike.
"You may yet change your mind," Macavity said simply. "Now, on your feet, please."
They both hesitated, especially as the two hench-cats seemed to take it as their cue to circle around them. They made no move to pull the huddled duo to their feet, to Mistoffelees' relief, though he started as Macavity extended a hand out to him, intending to help him up. Mistoffelees pointedly ignored the offered help and hung on to Demeter's arm as she rose.
Macavity stood up as well, easily two heads taller than both of them. Once again he moved slowly and cautiously towards Mistoffelees and drew in a great breath.
"You smell so very good," Macavity said appreciatively. "Not just because of your special condition. I've been waiting a long time to smell magic like that in another cat."
Mistoffelees couldn't help it; at the mention of magic, his eyes widened.
Macavity caught the reaction. He smirked a bit, just enough to reveal one fang. "You did ask why I brought you here," he said. "Let me explain."
To Mistoffelees' surprise, Macavity turned away from him, addressing Demeter. "Do you remember your mother, Demeter?"
Demeter bared her fangs in a silent hiss. "As much as I can," she said evenly. "I was very young when you took her away."
"Of course," Macavity said. There was no hint of regret in his voice; it left Mistoffelees feeling cold. "Did you ever wonder why I chose her?"
"Because you're a bastard, and she happened to be in your path?"
From the corner of his eye, Mistoffelees saw one of the toms, Bixbite, smirk and raise his paws behind Demeter, as though he was waiting for her to lunge as an excuse to grab her. But Demeter remained poised, staring back at Macavity.
"No, nothing so thoughtless and random," Macavity said. "She had a scent, a quality about her. She was a bit of a sensitive, did you know that? She could feel other cats' hearts in her own. Always seemed to know everything a few minutes before others did. She always seemed to know when I was around. That's a gift. A magical gift."
"My… my mother wasn't magical," Demeter said, genuinely confused.
"No, she wasn't," Macavity sighed. "That was my mistake; magical cats are so rare, and I'd never met another one. Any special skill seemed like it could be magic, and your mother's skills were certainly special. I wonder, Demeter, did she pass that on to you? Can you feel certain things better than others? Can you see in the dark a little clearer than the other Jellicles?"
She could do exactly that, Mistoffelees knew. He'd seen her. Not at the level of Coricopat or Tantomile, who made an effort to hone their gifts, but Demeter definitely had the skill. But now, laid bare in front of Macavity, she only shook her head dejectedly.
"No? Well, it's a skill, certainly," Macavity shrugged. "But it isn't magic. It was unfortunate that I didn't know that at the time."
"So if you thought she was magical, why did you take her?" Demeter asked. Her voice shook; she was fighting back tears. Mistoffelees hardly blamed her; he'd never known the queen, but still wanted to cry for her fate.
"Are you not listening?" Macavity said, an edge to his voice. "Magical cats are dreadfully rare. The world needs more of us; and if I couldn't find many others like me, then I would need to create some."
"You… you wanted her to… to…"
"To give me heirs, as only a magical queen could. But unfortunately, she was useless to me. I couldn't risk having kittens with a queen who wasn't magical."
Demeter gave a light sob. "You killed her just because of that? Because she wasn't magical?"
Macavity shrugged airily. "I gave her a choice. I would have let her stay and work for me. Other toms in my employ would have loved to claim her as a mate; she was quite beautiful, you know. But she chose to fight me, and there was nothing to be done about that."
Mistoffelees had begun to tremble, fighting the urge to vomit the little food he'd recently eaten. He had been told by the other Jellicles of Macavity's penchant for casual cruelty, but to hear it from the mouth of the Hidden Paw himself, and so flippantly, was horrifying. Though he had only so far addressed Demeter, Mistoffelees did not need him to elaborate on his plan; he could easily guess at Macavity's intentions
"After she was gone, I didn't give up my search," Macavity continued. "It was a difficult few years, but every so often, fortune smiles."
"It won't work," Mistoffelees suddenly said. Macavity whirled towards him, as though he'd forgotten about the small tom. "I know what you want with me, but it won't work."
Macavity gave a low rumbling chuckle. "You are a clever little one, aren't you? Tell me, what do you think I want?"
He felt a little less bold now with Macavity's attention on him, but still Mistoffelees tried to stand as tall and still as possible. "You want me to bear your kittens."
"Clever indeed," Macavity smirked. "What I wanted was a queen, but if you are powerful enough to make this happen-" He raised a thick paw over Mistoffelees' stomach, making him shudder, though the paw did not make contact. "-It makes no difference to me that you're a tom. I will take you as my mate and you will give me heirs who are just like us."
"But it won't work," Mistoffelees said. He covered his heavy stomach with his hands, not caring this time if the hench-cats found it ridiculous. "This only happened by… by accident. I didn't make it happen, and I don't know how to control it."
"Oh yes you do," Macavity purred. "Little toms don't make kittens appear in their bellies by accident. I can smell the magic in you; you can make this happen. And you will find a way."
"No, I won't."
"Yes, you will. I will give you the same choice I've given others; you can choose to be happy and comfortable here with me, or you can choose to resist me. All the same, I will get what I want."
"You won't," Mistoffelees said breathlessly. He was trembling again, but with anger this time. "I don't know how to give you kittens! And even if I did, I wouldn't do it for you!"
Any pretense of kindness or gentleness was now gone from Macavity's manner; like a shadow over the moon, a look of intense cruelty passed over the cat's features. He wrapped one long-fingered, sharp paw around Mistoffelees' neck and squeezed just hard enough to make him whimper. At his side, Demeter also whimpered.
"If you fight me, I will overpower you," Macavity hissed. He dragged Mistoffelees closer to him, so close that the smell of cold smoke was all about them. Close to losing his balance, Mistoffelees grasped Macavity's thick arm with trembling paws. "I will drag you to me every night and mate with you until you gain control of your magic and give me kits. If you could do it for one of those common, classless cats back in your filthy junkyard, you can do the same for me."
Macavity's grip was unyielding and Mistoffelees couldn't fight the rising panic. He wanted to struggle, but it hurt to do so, and as much as he was loath to admit it, Macavity was right; there wasn't much he could do to fight Macavity's power. His breath hitched and tears of panic began to leave trails on his cheeks.
"Aw, cries just like a queen," Bixbite snorted. "I bet he screamed like one too, when he made them kits."
There came a snarl and the sounds of struggling; Mistoffelees couldn't see, but he had a fairly good idea that Demeter had tried to attack Bixbite for his remark. He worried about the tom hurting her, but one quick, warning glare from Macavity made the struggling cease.
Mercifully, the grip on Mistoffelees' throat eased somewhat. Macavity still stared coldly at him. "I'm not unnecessarily cruel. I'm giving you both a choice."
"What about my kittens?" Mistoffelees asked, his voice strained from the tight hold. "What's going to happen to them?"
"These ones? With a belly that size, you must be ready to drop them any day now. Once they're born, we'll see which ones inherited their…" Macavity grinned darkly. "…mother's special talents. I will happily raise those as my own. The rest will be fairly useless to me."
"No!" Mistoffelees rasped. He'd meant to scream it, but the word caught in his throat. It was suddenly difficult to breathe, and it had nothing to do with Macavity's grasp around his neck.
"You monster!" Demeter cried. One of the toms grunted with effort; she had begun to struggle again. "They're innocent kittens! Even you wouldn't be so depraved as to kill newborns!"
"Don't worry, Demeter," Macavity said, casting her a bored look. "We'll find you a mate, and you'll be taken care of as well."
Mistoffelees gasped as Macavity suddenly released his neck; he fell hard onto his knees, yelping as the contact jarred his back and legs. Desperately gulping for breath, he nearly flinched away at the feel of hands on his arms, but realized it was only Demeter, not one of the wretched hench-cats.
"Get some rest," Macavity said. He was as airy and pleasant as before. "If you need anything—some food, more blankets—please call out and you'll have whatever you need. I'll come back after you've had some time to think about my request."
Cheswick and Bixbite strolled back to their master's side, evidently unconcerned with any threat the two Jellicles may have posed. Bixbite gave them both a smirk before following Macavity up the stairs; it was clear that he intended to be part of whatever plan Macavity had in mind for Demeter.
"Bastards," Demeter hissed, after the furniture had been magically pushed back into place, blocking the entrance to the basement. "Misto? Breathe, it's okay."
"He's going to kill my kittens," Mistoffelees whimpered. He should have ached from collapsing onto the floor, but Macavity's threat had left him numb all over.
"No!" Demeter cried, tightening her hold around the small tom. "No he won't. We're going to get out of here before they're born. And even if we don't, I won't let him touch you or the kittens. I'll scratch him until he stops scratching back. I promise."
Mistoffelees nodded shakily. Whatever little hope he may have felt had long since faded. Macavity's deeds were no tales meant to frighten unruly young kittens; he was capable of awful things, and had already made others suffer for his whims. It sickened him to admit it, but Macavity was right: one way or another, he would get what he wanted.
One way or another, he would have to submit to Macavity's desires. One way or another, he knew, he would end up carrying Macavity's kittens.
He shuddered against Demeter, feeling sick again, and stared at the single window as rain began to patter violently against the glass.
Poor Misto. You just knew he wasn't going to like Macavity's plans, once he heard them.
Thank you all for reading!