A/N: I heard the carol, "The Cats Carol" on AccuHolidays a few weeks ago and thought that it would make a nice little story. So I procrastinated until this morning to write it. I hope that you all have a joyous … whatever holiday you celebrate. Happy New Years, too.
I do not own Cats (well, I do on DVD) nor do I own 'The Cats Carol' (written by Bruce Evans and performed by Meryn Cadell if any of you wish to hear it…)
Old Deuteronomy sat atop of the Vicarage Wall, looking out. Big, fat white snowflakes were falling quickly, yet gracefully; amusing the kittens and some of the mice below who attempted to catch the flakes on their tongues. The night sky was covered with dark, shady grey clouds, obscuring the sight of the stars and the moon – and making any chances to see Father Christmas and his reindeer fly across the sky reduced.
Tonight was Christmas Eve. The humans were busting around in there houses, adding the final touches to their tree, setting out a plate of milk and cookies for the jolly fat man who'd be leaving them glorious gifts – if they were nice – and extinguishing the fire in the fireplace to assure their children that the jolly fat man shan't burn his rump on the way down, before ushering them off to bed. Outside, however, there was a different celebration about to take place.
The Jellicle tribe was gathered outside; beneath the Vicarage Wall and under their Leader's warm, protective gaze. Mixed in with the groups of felines were multitudes of mice. They didn't run in fear from the cats – their enemy – but they danced about with them; as energetic as the tribe's kittens. Deuteronomy looked down beside him at the old mouse, the leader of the small tribe for rodents, who returned the gaze with a nod of his head. Old Deuteronomy turned back to the groups and raised his paws in the air; all noise and movement ceased.
"Friends," he said in his clear, deep voice, "We gather here tonight – on the Eve of Christmas – to celebrate. For many years the feud between us of the feline race and our guest of the rodent race has gone on – to us, they are food. But tonight, there is no feud. There is no need to fear. Tonight, we're family." A few kittens, who had never witnessed the celebration before cocked their heads to aside. "Years ago," Deuteronomy continued, "on this very night, a cat sat out upon a stoop. It was the worse blizzard of the year and she mewled and meowed to be allowed inside the house, but her cries were ignored. A small mouse walked by, freezing, seeming to be near death. The cat picked him up and told him to not be afraid – it was Christmas Eve after all – and all would be fine. She dug them a hole in the snow in which they curled up in.
"The cat froze to death." A few of the faces below fell at that; whether they heard the story before or not. It was always their least favorite part of the lore. "Father Christmas – a human who flies around every December the twenty-fourth by means of magical reindeer, knew that cat had died. He steered his sleigh down to pick her up, and when he did – he noticed the mouse curled up in his fur. She had kept him warm. Mouse woke up and he began to joyously cry for they were saved. Father Christmas told him of what happened; that she gave him her life – the greatest gift of all – and to not cry, for he isn't going to be alone. Once a year, on the same night as her death, a constellation of a cat shall shine in the sky to remind him that his friend was still there with him and her love is still among us.
"While we can not give our lives every year to one another, we have grown accustomed to giving small tokens of friendship," Deuteronomy finished, looking up at the sky in hopes that the clouds may break, so they may feast their eyes upon the constellation.
They seemed to have taken that as their cue. Jennyanydots and Jellylorum approached the mass of mice; one rolling a wheel of cheese while the other carried an armful of knitted blankets. They laid the gifts on the ground, giving a small bow, "Merry Christmas, friends."
At that, two mice approached, dragging a piece of fish that laid on paper. They bowed as them, saying, "Merry Christmas, friends," in their small, squeaky voices.
Deuteronomy sighed quietly, the sky was just as overcastted as before; they'd have to cut the celebration short. He went to say the closing speech when Mistoffelees stood up, taking his brother Quaxo along with him. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, watching as they went to the center of the group. They made eye contact and gave a nod, not needing words. They raised their paws to the sky, closing their eyes in profound concentration. Their white paws began to glow faintly, the clouds above starting to disperse. A mouse gave an excited cry as she pointed to the opening, "Look!"
There, outlined in the clouds, was the cat constellation. The gap created was just big enough to show it. A heavy silence fell over the group as they all turned their heads up to look at the sky. Deuteronomy felt as if a weight had been lifted off of him, no longer needing to worry about the course of the night; the sight of the stared figure always seemed to put the other in the right mood for the festivities. He felt that same, revered, warm sense that he felt every year when the cat was shown – it was gentle and meaningful, like a mother's hug.
The four paws stopped glowing as they wearily lowered their arms. The gap was left for a moment before the clouds began to reappear. Deuteronomy and the mouse elder both smiled in thanks as they sat back down. There was no need for signaling; the song started off by one as other started to join in.
"The cat wanted in to the warm, warm house, but no one would let the cat in. It was cold outside on Christmas Eve, she meowed and meowed by the door…."