Chat Noir's eyelids drooped and as much as he wanted to listen to all his Lady's words, it was rather difficult to concentrate when her claws were softly raking through the thin stripe of fur on his back.
"My pet, are you listening?"
"Of course, my Lady."
"Repeat what I just said."
He yawned, blinking sleepily. "You cannot accompany me to the portal leading to my Wilde Hunt because the winter solstice is too narrow a window. You'll be busy with other duties."
"Look at you. Cats do listen."
"Occasionally." Truthfully, he hadn't paid even the slightest bit of attention to her explanation of what exactly her other duties entailed. He didn't need her to see him off. Chat Noir left the Nightmare Court for his hunts all the time without so much as a by-your-leave. She allowed him this freedom, trusting that he would always find his way back to her side.
Although this would be his longest Hunt yet. By the time he came back, Trixx would likely be an adult, and it saddened him to miss their growth. For all that he mocked their pitiful hunting attempts, they were improving, and Chat loved their little chasing games. The fox spirit was the only being at Court whom he'd befriended, for it was closest to his nature – mischievous, wild, yet not needlessly cruel.
Not that his Lady was cruel, either, for all that she ruled Nightmare. No, his Lady loved all her subjects and, like a mother defending her cubs, was willing to tear her enemies to pieces. Chat Noir admired that ferocity, like he admired everything about her.
Once he became a full-fledged member of the Court and took his place as her Lord, this realm would become his to defend as well. What better way to demonstrate he was worthy of that responsibility than to cull the humans?
"Good pet," she crooned. "Don't think I've not noticed that you've stopped making your abominable puns."
Well. In her presence, anyway.
Still he happily writhed in both her praise and her lap. Once he was Lord and her equal, that was when they would revisit the topic of his genius wordplay. For now, he had too many rivals to be able to afford teasing her.
Though did any of his rivals get private audiences like this? No. Only him. Because Chat Noir was special. Iron Kissed and tamed by her hand, plucked from the wilderness of Underhill too savage for any Lord or Lady to claim as territory. Courtiers could snicker and taunt him for not having been born into Nightmare all they liked, but one day he would rule them all. He had learned their ways, and soon they would learn his.
Chat Noir was born to rule, he felt the truth of it deep in his bones. His Lady felt it, too, for why else would she task him with stealing a crown? It was like she was winking at him, an unspoken promise between them.
Oh, she was still talking. He lazily perked up one ear.
"…will meet you on the other side. The Changeling was moved to her place on the last summer solstice, to prepare for your arrival. Lean on her experience if the human world proves confusing but remember that she is not Iron Kissed like you. Changelings are not built for battle, even a plain human soldier can slay her. She will be able to aid you with the court, but only you can safely infiltrate their military command."
"Humans have a Court of their own?"
His Lady sighed. Chat Noir smiled prettily, evidently having just given away that he'd not listened at some point.
"Kings and Queens are the human equivalent of Lords and Ladies. Yes, they each have their own court filled with courtiers, balls and amusement."
"And politics," he said glumly.
Chat Noir hated politics, all those snide remarks and insults hidden under compliments. He knew they were mocking him, but rarely did he figure out what for, their conversations difficult to follow. Learning who was beholden to whom, where the secret alliances were, complex feuds spanning centuries – just contemplating the very notion of Nightmare Court politics made him long for a hunt.
He was a creature of simple needs, neatly dividing the world into allies and things he could eat. The notion of smiling and complimenting the dress of a creature he planned on devouring was absurd. Yes, he liked to play with his prey, too, but not over years and decades! That was just cruel. And would surely grow boring.
Yet it was what his Lady was asking of him. To infiltrate the humans and lead them to their own destruction. He supposed patience and cunning were skills she needed him to master if he was to become her Lord.
"And politics," she confirmed. "I know you do not like to play the games of whispers, but it will be vital for the success of your Hunt. Your position as prince will make it easier. People will be eager to please and impress you. But it is with others of your own rank you will have to be careful. While we aim to plunge the human kingdoms into war, we cannot let it happen before we are ready. Do not antagonize them nor show yourself weak."
"I understand, my Lady." His tail flicked with irritation that she thought it necessary to explain such basic concepts to him. This he understood instinctively. "Identify the predators among the prey and find a way to share the territory without killing or being killed. That comes later."
She gifted him with a smile and another scratch of his ear. "Clever kitten. Exactly. For now, your task will simply be to seamlessly blend into your role as Adrien Agreste and to gain insight into his world." His Lady grew very still. "Without being consumed by it."
"My Lady, I belong to Underhill. No stolen memories can overcome my love for you."
"I hope so." Her touch was featherlight now. "Chat Noir. Such a delightful surprise you turned out to be. Failing this mission would be a blow to Underhill but losing you shall be a blow to me."
"I won't fail," he growled, his heart beating as fast as a bird's wing. He tucked the high praise away, would surely revisit those words many times during his Hunt.
No, he would not fail her. Not ever.
Chat Noir's claws traced the edges of the surface reflecting a stranger's face at him.
His Lady had warned him to not use the mirror needlessly, so that left the question of what was most vital for him to know. The answer was obvious – he needed to know about the one he'd be taking the crown from.
The prince's father.
Chat Noir knew little of family. He did not remember his own sire, but then, tomcats were not known for being devoted parents. Likely he had never even met him. Yet Chat remembered nothing of a mother nor littermates either. But he'd been young and wild and not self-aware yet.
His intellect was a gift from his Lady, given to him on the day he'd consented to being tamed. The subtle magic altered him more and more with each passing season, sharpening his mind. Already Chat Noir was certain that he would not be abandoning any pups of his.
He welcomed the changes for they brought him closer to being her equal.
Well, not all of them. There were drawbacks to the way his thoughts were splintering. Simple truths became multifaceted uncertainties. Once he had neatly divided the world into prey and predator, but then he'd come to realize that this was only in relation to himself. The creatures he swallowed in one gulp were fearsome predators to someone else.
He was proud of discovering these things, but sometimes this strange melancholy swept over him. What else was he certain of that just wasn't true? He loved his Lady, but sometimes he had this suspicion that he'd been happier before she caught him, when he'd still been running free under an open sky. It wasn't that he wished to be an unthinking beast again, but there was no melancholy in the wild, only the battle for survival.
Chat Noir did not much care for doubt or indecision. He banished the sensation from his mind whenever it arose. Chat Noir was his Lady's pet and would one day be her Lord. That about covered the ideal depth of his thoughts and he didn't want his world to get any more complex than that.
Though he did like the complexity of wordplay.
He really liked the way his mouth could make one noise and have two meanings. On one particularly magical day not long ago, Chat Noir had succeeded in a triple entendre. Truly, his intellect was growing by leaps and bounds.
And he would have to be smart to fool the humans. Smarter than ever before.
"Mirror, show me the prince's father."
Adrien's forehead hit the page and he jerked back up a mere heartbeat later. A steely blue gaze rested on him and the king raised an eyebrow.
"Am I boring you, my son?"
"No, father." He rubbed his forehead and subtly peered at the open book in front of him. The ink hadn't smeared, thank the Gods. "I just didn't get much sleep last night. The arithmetic problems you gave me are difficult."
"And you stayed up to solve them?"
He fidgeted. Adrien loved the way the numbers fit together, the way they could move back and forth between the sides of an equation until they turned into another formula entirely. But these formulas were vexing him. "Well, I tried."
"You didn't succeed?"
His shoulder slumped. "No."
"Would you like another set of problems, then? Easier ones?"
The prince's head snapped up. "No!" Yes, they vexed him, but some novel way of looking at them would come to him eventually. And then the math would reveal its elegance.
King Gabriel's lips curved into a rare smile. "Then I'm proud of you, Adrien. Take as much time as you need. It's only failure if you let it be the last try."
Chat Noir blinked, tilting his head.
Humans were curious-looking creatures. All that pink skin and no scales or fur or anything at all to harden them against attacks and elements. Chat Noir had his own weak spots like that, much more than he'd have liked, but they had it all over. What a fragile existence.
Well, they did have a mane on top of their head, so he supposed that was something.
But still. They looked so soft his heart seized with the urge to protect the man who'd been giving his son a gentle lesson. Ridiculous. He didn't stop to marvel at cute critters, he ate them.
So what had he learned from the vision?
Well, the prince liked math. Whatever that was.
"Mirror, mirror, on the wall," he murmured, and then frowned. The mirror was in his hand, not on the wall, why would he say that? Chat shook his head, pinpricks of a foreign mind falling off him.
If he was to be convincing as Prince Adrien, then he needed to be able to mimic his preferences.
"Show me math."
The Glamor was an innate ability of all fae, and Chat Noir was no exception. He sometimes used it to meld with the shadows to play a prank on Trixx, but never had he worn one for any length of time. This one had been strengthened by his Lady, to make it as convincing as any Changeling's.
It was an ill fit.
He placed another unsteady step in front of him, wobbling. Chat Noir had mastered walking on two legs, he had, but without the aid of his tail to keep him balanced, it was a ludicrously hard ordeal. The prince's body was stiff and inflexible, not at all lending itself to his fluid grace. It just wouldn't bend right.
Chat Noir toppled over, deciding then and there that he hated humans and their stupid, weak, fragile, rigid, no-good bodies.
Trixx howled with laughter and Chat hissed at them.
"This is not funny!"
"It's a little funny."
"Share your secrets, shapeshifter. How can you bear this?"
"Hm, there's some things you're doing wrong. Let me think of how to explain it." The young fox mimed a thinking pose, then snapped their fingers. "Oh yes, that's right. Everything. You're doing everything wrong."
"I know what you're doing and while I do appreciate the dramatic irony, will you not rise above such petty impulses? Don't you want to be better than me? Prove yourself the superior fae? Here's your o-purr-tunity."
Purple eyes blinked in surprise.
It was not an expression Chat was used to seeing from the fox. "What?"
"Nothing. It's nothing."
Chat Noir scowled. "I've no patience for games right now, Trixx. This is my Wilde Hunt and the solstice nears. I need to have mastered this body by the time the portal opens."
Three of their nine tales curled into Trixx's lap and they absently brushed their claws through them. "I cannot help but notice that you've gained some eloquence since last I saw you."
"…pocket dimension. Time dilation. You know how it is."
"Right. Is that where you learned what dramatic irony and time dilation are, Chat? I like my men young, dumb and hung and you are starting to not fit the bill. It'd be a tragic shame for me to lose my lust for you. Try growling something about prey under your breath for me?"
"I am most indebted to you for revealing to me this most marvelous method of circumventing your amorous intentions."
They threw a small ball of fox fire at him and Chat Noir's infuriatingly slow body did nothing to dodge in time, producing more of a sad twitch than the intended leap.
"Trixx," he whined pitifully and tried to make his eyes do the thing with his pupils that made even his Lady melt. Sometimes. She did not melt per se, but it earned him the occasional pat on the head. "Help me."
"Oh, fine, fine. Some fearsome nightmare you are. Your new body has instincts, too. Use them instead of relying on your old ones. I promise you those hips were made for walking on two legs. It's not hard, tail or not."
Chat nodded and pushed himself to sit.
Yes, his new body had instincts, too, and he was very aware of them. Uncomfortably so. It made him want to prowl around on four paws out of sheer spite. Trixx was not wrong to notice the change in his speech, for even Chat Noir caught the prince sneaking into his vocabulary. And maybe that was a good thing, would add to his authenticity in the role he was to assume.
But his Lady's warning rang in his mind.
For just the briefest moment, assuming this form had felt like coming home. Chat Noir had recoiled, promptly forcing himself into a crouch. He was a fae, not a human, and he would do well to resist the memories so eager to take over his will.
"So are you going to tell me what this Wilde Hunt of yours is about?"
"No. You know I can't."
The fox pushed forward their bottom lip in a pout. "And you know I can keep a secret, Chat. Who would I even tell? You're my closest friend in all the Nightmare Court. My only friend."
Trixx had an uncanny gift for disguises, so much so that their animal form didn't even smell fae. They survived his Lady's harsh borderlands only through trickery, not daring to venture anywhere near where the more powerful fae lived.
How would the young fox fare without him? Chat was forever pulling them out of trouble. It was like Trixx delighted in running headlong into danger just so Chat would have no choice but to give chase.
Chat's voice soft when he answered. "And you are mine."
"But you still won't tell me what you'll be up to in the human world?"
"I can't. Our Lady forbade–"
Trixx sighed softly. "Well. Can't disobey our Lady, can we? I'm going to miss you terribly. It will be so boring here without you." Their ears perked up. "I guess I'll have to sneak out during the solstice and track you down."
Chat sat up, alarmed. "Trixx, don't. Humans are dangerous."
The fox spirit only smiled, showing teeth. "So am I."
"Show me the prince's home, mirror."
The ocean raging against a cliffside, ceaselessly beating its waves against the unyielding stone. Towers rose like a crown at the very edge, one half defended by the sea's fury, the other overseeing a sprawling coastal city. To the east, the cliffs sloped gently, allowing ships to dock at the shore where fishermen peddled their catches. The wares brought by the large trade vessels from faraway lands were carried deeper into the capital, to be sold at its central market square or offered to a more selective clientele at court.
Adrien smiled at his kingdom and his people, breathing deeply of the air carrying a hint of salt.
Chat blinked slowly, the tip of his tongue darting out to catch the lingering scent of fish.
His Lady's nightmare realm was a thing of beauty. Stars glittered above all hours of the day, illuminating thorns and the skeleton forests Chat liked to hunt in. It was easy for him to blend in with the shadows of his home.
But the human world was bright, so bright that standing in it would surely hurt his eyes. It should have repulsed him. A horizon of nothing but water? Horrible.
Yet the more he glimpsed of it, the more eager he grew for his Wilde Hunt. He would conquer this new challenge, as he'd conquered his territory. All beasts, no matter how ferocious, knew to stay away from the slice of Underhill that Chat had carved out for himself.
The scent of Adrien's home stirred something inside of him. It called to him, his body quivering with anticipation of getting to breathe its full splendor. The human's senses were dull, but Chat would be able to appreciate all the subtle flavors the prince was missing. Like catching a glimpse of a wonderful treasure behind fogged glass.
On the night of the solstice, the dark sky ripped open, and the Lord of Misfortune watched from his perch.
Scarcely a few days after the anniversary of his disappearance, Prince Adrien was found and freed over a hundred miles from the capital. The realm rejoiced when they heard the news. The king, however, without even meeting his miraculously returned son, started screaming that whatever had been found was a lying imposter.
It took three of his knights to wrestle the iron sword out of his grip.