Munkustrap

At the cusp of daybreak, Munkustrap got his council together for a last-minute meeting. "I know now what we're dealing with. I didn't take Raithen's threats lightly before, but now I know he's willing to abduct or maim a kitten and that he must be stopped."

"He needs to die." Mungojerrie interjected, repeating himself from earlier that morning.

"Let me speak." Munkustrap ordered. "Yes, we need to be rid of Raithen, but it's not him we have to take care of first. Nebula's our biggest threat. You can all agree with me on that, can't you?"

"He's the one who's been doing all his dirty work." Plato said. "It's like the old wanker doesn't have gnads of his own."

As rude as the comment was, there was a smidge of wisdom in those words. "He is a coward. That's what gives us an edge. Jerrie, you told me yourself he's nothing but a manipulator."

"A manipulator that's waiting to kill you." Bemoaned Mungojerrie. "He's waiting until you wear out so he can snatch the tribe for himself. I know you're not so blind as to not see the shadow of his claws hanging over your neck."

"There are no claws. Only a shadow." Demeter spoke up. "But this isn't going to go away if we keep sitting on our arses. That's the whole point of this meeting." She looked at Munkustrap. "You have a plan, don't you?"

"You're not going to have another talk with him, are you?" Growled Alonzo, concerned for his comrade. Munkustrap gave no answer and Alonzo was so appalled that he couldn't speak. Even Demeter looked discontent. Mungojerrie, however, was not going to stay silent.

"My God, Munkustrap you're so obedient that you can't defy your own passiveness?" Instead of rebuffing the Bengal, Munkustrap lowered his gaze. "You just acknowledged he's willing to hurt a child. Your children. You put me on here to tell you what needs to be done, yet you don't listen. What's it going to take?"

"I'm not going to be remembered as the leader that started a war!" Bellowed the silver cat. "My father was murdered in cold blood. All it brought was turmoil and unrest for all of us. I can't bear to put that burden on any of you." Finally, Munkustrap felt like he and his council were all in the same room listening to one another; that he'd been heard. "I promised my father that when I become the leader, I would uphold everything the Jellicles stood for. Loyalty, dignity, humility... It's not in our blood that we tremble at every threat and immediately turn to violence. It's in us to do what's best for the tribe."

"Love," Demeter said after a moment of morose silence, "I understand how much you loved your father, we all do. We know he had his qualms for violence and so do you. Yes, it's a vile thing to contemplate, but sometimes rulers have to do vile things for the good of their subjects." Munkustrap's face fell when she said that. Even her? "Queen Elizabeth the First beheaded her cousin, Mary, because she plotted to murder her. I doubt she found any joy in ordering such a sentence, but it was for her people." Her ears twitched. "If Macavity had not died the same night as your father, we might all still be suffering his villainy."

"And if I kill Raithen, does that make me any better than him?" Munkustrap replied lowly. "My father haunts me every day and every night because I couldn't protect him. If I don't at least live by what he spent years teaching me, he'll never find peace."

"And if you do, neither will you." Mungojerrie spouted, earning looks from each of the cats around him. "Anyhow, we got far off topic. If we did kill Raithen, who knows what Nebula would do to retaliate? He's more psychotic than the loon that barks orders at him."

"We'll take care of him through Raithen." Munkustrap said, his more rational thoughts clouded by painful ones of his father.

"So you want to wait for him to come back and try and snatch one of your kits again?"

"Careful, Mungojerrie." Munkustrap snapped. "I don't want to take this lying down either; I will make him answer for this." He sounded more determined now, but noticed Jerrie's eyes fall when he added, "I'll find him, but I don't want violence. I don't want threats."

"Mate, it's been too long this has gone on and you're still not listening to me."

"What would you have me do? Gouge out his insides?" Chided Munkustrap. "I don't believe fear to be an effective motivator. I'm taking care of things my own way."

"So is Raithen." Snarled the Bengal. However, at Munkustrap's words, he began to think, "You want to go have a chat with him, fine. But get the facts... what made him hate your father so much? What made him hate you so much?" His words stung like the burning of hot oil. Munkustrap still couldn't bring himself to comprehend the idea that anyone besides Macavity would've wanted to do his father harm. Perhaps it was best to ask such questions instead of trying to appeal to him emotionally... how else could he finally understand? He wasn't getting anywhere on his own. It turns out not every cat had a heart. He wanted to think so, but Macavity had not had one, therefore there were indeed others like him. He should've trusted his gut the moment he felt unsure of them.

God, why couldn't this be simpler? Why did he have to overthink so much? He just wanted to be with his kittens, to have his father back, to not have this thrown at him when he wasn't prepared mentally or emotionally.

—

When Munkustrap arrived at the den where his shivering brother lied, Tugger was unresponsive yet again. Awake and breathing, but on another planet. Bombalurina had his head resting on her lap as she caressed and cradled his face, hoping to stroke a word out of him.

The grey tom knelt down beside them. "Is he okay?"

"He's still cold." Bombalurina answered sadly, stroking a lock of his mane. "I think it's safe to make a fire now, but I'd have to wait for Jenny... or even Mistoffelees."

"Just let him rest for now. I think the heater's enough." Munkustrap took another good look at his brother; he looked so vulnerable and desolate. His color was still so pale. "Tugger." He said to try and usher a response out of him. Although he got nothing, he went on, "I'm going to handle this... I'm gonna stop waiting for this to go away and do something... Something you'd probably be telling me to do right now." He smiled slightly, knowing it was true. "I should've done what you did a long time ago... I'm just not as brave as you." He said these words with meaning, but knew they fell on deaf ears. It had to be said either way. "I'm not going to let Raithen tear us apart."

As he spoke, he'd almost forgotten that Bombalurina was right there. It didn't matter as long as somebody heard him. "I want you to keep an eye on him." Munkustrap said.

"I'm not leaving his side." Declared the scarlet Somali. She brushed her fingers across the Maine Coon's forehead again, only earning a slight twitch in response. He turned over to his side and rested his head back onto the pillow. Even in a state of disillusion, Tugger didn't like to be held.

Munkustrap put his paw on his shoulder, "I love you, Tiger." He whispered to him, knowing he wouldn't get a reaction, but hoping he would comprehend it in some way. Any way. It was the truth, after all. Perhaps that was his own fatal flaw; his need to always be honest. Everyone else had it in them to play dirty, but not him, nor his father. Instead of going back to his own den or to leave the perimeters to find the bald cat himself, the Mau went to the central courtyard and looked at the podium. His father had been there, probably hearing the same sorts of things from his council, dealing with the same threats of usurpation... and now it was his.

For all these months, Munkustrap could never stomach looking at it. All it did was make him think of Old Deuteronomy. How he was gone. How he had no one to make proud or tell him how to ensure everything would be all right. Now everything was wrong. Inside, he felt something he didn't expect to feel as he stared down the podium.

The tom raked up whatever rocks and items he could from the snow-covered ground and chucked it at the mounted tire, pelting it with all of his rage. He snarled through his teeth, growling in his throat. He kept throwing whatever he could as if he had the power to destroy it, but nothing could even scratch it. Finally, he slipped in the snow and toppled onto his knees. His knees crumpled and he pulled on his fur, gritting his teeth to fight back a sob. He was done crying, yet he couldn't keep the tears away. It was all so much.

Why could nobody see how hard this was? Why did it have to be his burden? If he was acting like this now, what kind of leader would he be then? He was nothing. His father had no heir to be proud of. He pushed him for nothing. He died knowing his son couldn't take care of the tribe he'd raised, Munkustrap thought with a sore lump in his throat.

Arms folded around his chest from behind, the soft, gold-tinted ones of his wife as she shushed into his ear. There was nothing she could say to calm him this time.

"Everything's wrong." He whimpered. "I can't fix it." Demeter nuzzled her nose to his shoulder. "I'm not my father. I don't know what to do."

"Yes." Demeter said. "Yes, you do. Sometimes it has to be this way." She hugged him tighter. "No matter what you do, if it's to protect your tribe, your father would understand. He'll always love you." She spoke in such a soothing voice that shivers went down his arms. "He wouldn't want to see you like this." Demeter took his face and made him look at her so she could see his eyes. "He'd be so proud of you that you're trying. He'd know you're beating yourself up because you love your people as much as he did. You know your people love you and would do anything for you."

"I know. That's why I can't tell them to go out there and risk losing one of them. I have to handle this myself." He took a breath, abating his sob. "But I want to be a good tom. I can't let others think we solve our problems by killing them. My father got through life without killing anyone." And look where that led him a voice in his head suddenly knocked on his skull. He loved his father more than he could say... but he'd been passive too. Even with Macavity, as much as he tried to keep him away. No good deed goes unpunished. That's how the world worked. His own father was punished for keeping his son, who was pure evil, alive.

...Had he made a mistake keeping another certain someone alive as well? If anything, Old Deuteronomy wouldn't want Munkustrap making the same mistakes as he did. Demeter could see something changing in his eyes. Munkustrap finally, finally understood something.

Rum Tum Tugger

The leopard-spotted kitten sprung his feet from the branch he stood on to prop himself onto the one above him. His father had told him it was dangerous for a kitten this size to be up so high, but there was a bird up above just taunting him. He stretched his paws as high as he could over his head to reach for the other, not quite having the agility to just leap wherever he pleased yet. In his own world, he was a leopard leaning to hunt. To others, he was a kitten bound to crack his skull open one of these days.

The leopard cub prowled closer towards the great bird, chittering with his teeth as he neared his prey, eager to bring it home to show his father. He'll be so proud! It sat their preening, not knowing it was being watched intensely by a pair of jade-green eyes. Having its back turned was just the kit's incentive to come closer. With a few more steps and a small wiggle of his tush, he leapt forward and took the bird between his teeth. But with it, he went tumbling to the ground. Really, he wasn't as high up as his kitten-mind believed, but to him, he'd just survived a deathly fall.

The bird was still frantically fluttering its wings, but Rum Tum Tugger took his paw and held one down until it went still. He'd done it! When he trotted over to show Old Deuteronomy, he smiled and ruffled his fur. "Good boy." He chortled as the kit swished his tail, "You'll make a great hunter someday."

"I am a hunter!" Boasted the kitten, adding a very ferocious hiss for effect, one that made his father and older brother nearby chuckle.

"Right. Well, hunter, it's time for your bath."

Tugger flattened his ears. "But I already had a bath..."

Old Deuteronomy folded his arms. "And then you snuck off and went climbing again." The Maine Coon then pouted, but what could he do? He grimaced all through his second bath and was then sent off to bed, which he shared with Munkustrap. Later, when they were presumed to be asleep by their father, Tugger planted his paws onto Munkustrap. "Hey, big bro!" He beckoned in his young voice. The sleepy Mau just stretched his arms and grunted. "You wanna read me a story?" While most nights the notion would be tempting, the silver kit was exhausted.

"M-mm. I'm tired."

The kit frowned. "Aw..." He fell onto his stomach, flat as a pancake. "I'm bored."

"So go to sleep."

"I'm too bored to sleep!" How was that possible? It only made sense to a six-year-old. After a while of tossing and rolling, the kit found himself sleeping as well. He started to dream. His father was a great lion with silver fur and icy blue eyes—almost more like his brother. They did not live in a junkyard in the middle of the city, but in the savannah, with grass and sky going on for miles; something the kit could only imagine. His dreams were full of adventures, but sometimes danger. More often than not, the self-proclaimed leopard cub found himself being chased by creatures much larger than himself, being unable to run fast enough or climb high enough to escape; his claws and teeth didn't prove strong enough to scare them away. Tonight was one of those dreams. He was chased all the way to the top of the branches that kept going up and up. He tried to scream for his father or brother, but no sound came out of his throat. He might not have woken when he did had he not felt someone elbowing and nudging his chest.

"Tugger, Tugger! You're kicking me!" Whined the kit, who had been deaf to his brother's mewling but obnoxiously aware of his restless dreaming. Had he known it had been a bad dream, he would've been nicer about it, but it's not like Tugger would've told him anyway. He was glad it was only a dream, but he found himself wanting to nestle his tiny face into the back of his brother's neck. He felt safe close to him. If the kitten could have seen into the future the nightmares he would suffer, these would have been nothing more than silly dreams to him. Never had he believed they would become so vivid...

—

Not in a jungle, nor the junkyard. Some place made of cold stones that he couldn't make out. It was so dark that he couldn't see his paw in front of his face. The walls he used as a means of navigation were so cold that they burned when he touched them. It didn't matter where he was, but he wanted to find someone. Anyone.

I have to be in the Underground. Thought the Maine Coon, certain he'd simply wandered down to the subways without remembering. It was easy to find his way out of there. "Tugger." A voice was there with him. Not just any voice; his brother's. It echoed a hundred times through the tunnel until Tugger at last turned in the right direction to see him at the end of the narrow path. He felt light-headed from relief.

"Bro, thank God!" He exclaimed. "Where the hell are we?"

"I thought you'd recognize the place our father died when you saw it."

At that, Tugger felt every bone in his body turn to ice as he shuddered. Not only at his brother's words, but how coldly he'd said it. "W—What... Bro... what are you—"

"I can't bring a monster like you home with me." And now the pieces of his frozen bones shattered. Tugger's expression and character broke in that instant. He was left shocked, appalled, unable to reply before Munkustrap could say, "I watched you kill Macavity. You tried to kill Raithen. You've been a killer since the day you were born. Like them."

All words escaped the Maine Coon, who could truly sink into the depths of the ocean with everything he'd heard his dear brother say. His best friend. A sentence was lodged in his throat, but Tugger felt himself choke on them. "Wha... No..." He'd never heard himself so broken before. "I... Macavity killed our father. I was angry." He was shaking all over.

"Dad wouldn't have wanted that even then! Not even after he's dead you can't stop ignoring him."

"No!" Tugger shook his head. "I didn't..." His eyes watered. "...I didn't want him to hurt you." Munkustrap only glared at him. If looks alone could kill... As much as he annoyed him in their lives, Tugger had never seen such reproach in his eyes. It was when his brother turned to walk away that every ounce of composure in him broke and he spilt, "Brother, wait! Don't leave!"

"I can't have you near my kittens. How do I know you won't hurt them too?"

The very idea itself horrified the maned tom, almost rendering him speechless. "No... You know I'd never—" His lip quivered and at once Tugger felt like he couldn't breathe. "Munkustrap. Please, don't leave me here! You're all I have!"

"We're not brothers. Dad was right about you... You're just another disappointment."

"Munkustrap!" He pleaded more desperately than ever before in his life. There was no reply but the soft sound of retreating footsteps. He hurried to follow but couldn't keep up with his brother. When it became dark again, he recognized the voice of the second tom to approach him down there. One whose company was disfavored by any cat in the United Kingdom. Not even Hell wanted him; his soul was left wandering in the endless planes of oblivion, haunting those he desired.

"We have so much in common, I said. Do you believe me now? You can join me you know. It gets so lonely down here—"

"No!" Heart pounding, he jerked awake, finding himself in the cold morning light wrapped underneath a blanket he did not remember having. He was shivering all over both from the dream and his thawing body. Tugger turned his head around in search of his brother, who was nowhere to be found.

"Tugger," he turned and saw Bombalurina there beside him, her face creased with concern, "it's okay." She ran her paw down his arm. "You were dreaming. It was only a dream." Tugger still looked so lost. He was not underground... Munkustrap still loved him... Macavity is gone. A dream, like she said. "Do you want to talk about it?" Although it was the last thing he wanted, his body was still so fatigued and heavy. His eyes wanted nothing more but to close again. The Maine Coon responded by forcing himself to roll over into a warmer, more snug position.

He closed his eyes and hoped he wouldn't dream this time.