All respected rights and characters belong to ABC/Kitsis/Horowitz.
"Most of us rather like our cats to have a streak of wickedness. I should not feel quite easy in the company of any cat that walked about the house with a saintly expression." ~ Beverly Nichols
"What is it that you want?"
"A book. A book from the vault that can only be entered by the lord of the castle. I made you that lord, didn't I?"
"Y-yes. And I shall fetch it for you in exchange for everything you have done for me. But… what would a cat want with a book?"
"Well," the cat sniffed, "I can talk can't I? Surely I could read."
"O-oh. My apologies Miss… um, what book?"
"The Magnum Opus. Black leather book, shiny silvery lettering. You can't miss it."
...
She woke with a start. She woke in a large soft bean bag in a corner of a rich mahogany-furnished room full of books and stationary. A fire dominated the back wall with a solitary high-backed chair and side table in front of it, a large elegant office set occupied the center of the room.
She rolled on her back, fur whispering softly against the gentle suede of the bed. Above and around her were shelves holding trophies, ribbons, and championship pictures for a cream-red feline with bright blue eyes. The feline looked familiar.
She sat up and shook her head, a bell tinkled gently from around her neck. What is this? This isn't my bed, my room… where am I?
She looked back up at the shelves and photos and read the name 'Eris' among each. She leaned up against the shelves on her paws for a closer look. Wait… that's me!
But my name isn't Eris… it's Ro-
"Eris?" A familiar brogue called from outside the room. Thud, tap, thud , tap.
Eris – no, Rosalind! My name is Rosalind! – leapt down from her perch and cautiously padded toward the door. It creaked open and revealed a hard-edged man with a cane who smiled down at her.
"Ah, good, up already. Come along, dearie, we'll get you breakfast then it is off to the shop." He said softly. Eris… Rosalind… Rosie, whatever, just stared at the man before her. I know you… you're him! My-
"Eris? Are you alright girl?" The man eased himself down to the cat's level. She saw him wince and lean heavily on the cane but he still reached out to pet her.
It's me! "Mrrow!" She shook herself again. Of course she can't talk here, that would be too convenient now wouldn't it? But where is here? Damn! I know this, c'mon! "Mrrrow!"
"Hungry? That is the point of breakfast," the man chuckled and hoisted himself up, "Come along now."
He limped away from the astonished cat into the kitchen. She shook herself again and followed him, the golden bell tinkling gently from the black-and-gold leather collar around her neck. The hell is this? A collar! Hell's teeth. She stopped halfway into the kitchen and shook again, trying to dislodge the thing. Eris – Rosie!- then tried to pry it off with her back paws.
"None of that Eris," her father, her master in another life, scolded gently, "I know it is new, but I won't have you wear that old ribbon anymore, especially when we go out to town." He placed a bowl of warm fresh shredded chicken and bits of cheddar cheese topped with gravy in front of her. Eris the cat looked at is skeptically and the man clicked his tongue at her in exasperation.
"What is wrong now, my dear? This is your favorite besides the salmon. I refuse to feed you that canned nonsense. Eat." He turned away to his own breakfast, a simple fare of oatmeal and fruit. I usually eat what you do, curmudgeon, and with a spoon like a person… Rosie looked at herself. This wasn't unusual for her, being what she was, but she couldn't talk and she felt stuck. Why? Whispers and images - memories? - whisked through her head. A basket carried to a large pink house, a gentle hand, feathered mouse toys, velvet-clad tables, people poking and prodding, the praise, the trophies… She was Eris, a flame-point Balinese and six-time show champion belonging to Mr. R. Gold.
No, I remember… she worked for the Dark One, Rumpelstiltskin. She hunted treasures and bounties, conned her way through the countryside, she sang and played the violin, and could do magic with ease much to her warden's pride. She was Rosalind, raised and groomed by the Dark One, the shapeshifter Puss in Boots. But there was no magic in the air…
"A curse, dearie, one to end all curses. It will take us to a land without magic and take away the happy endings of all the heroes." The Dark One giggled and flitted in front of the little girl sitting on the table.
"Why?"
"To find your brother," The giggly imp suddenly was gone and the solemn father who lost too much stood before her.
"Bae! I can't wait to meet him, I hope he likes me." The girl replied. The Dark One shuffled up to the girl and held her close.
"He will love you, little imp." He said, emphasized with a poke on her nose, "and I will find a way to ensure you stay with me through it all. She'll not take you from me."
That had been years ago, she was only eight at the time and eight years more had passed until that cloud came rumbling through. Rumpelstiltskin was in the dungeons of Queen Snow and King James and she was alone in the Dark Castle facing the curse…
Regina! He gave it to Regina! Her tail flipped as she ate her chow, now knowing and trying not to make her master think anything more was amiss. She let me remember, but I cannot change! I cannot talk! Just sit pretty like a spoiled show cat! And her master, her father, was the town monster and practically owned everything in it. He was a lawyer and pawnshop owner who only cared for his business deals and his cat as temperamental as he.
Fine Queeny, if this is how you are going to play, I'll show you just how much more of a nuisance I can be…
The ride in the horseless carriage – a car you dummy, her fake memories supplied – was short and uneventful. Her fake memories told her that cats hate cars, and for good reason, but Eris was conditioned to ride in it calmly alongside her father. At least that didn't change much… still his baby, still at his service.
She followed him into a small shop adorned with gold lettering, the bell tinkling overhead as they entered. She looked around the dusty pawn shop and recognized almost everything that adorned the walls and glass cases. The puppets, the clock, the instruments… my violin!
Eris jumped onto the counter in front of the instruments on the wall and meowed at them. My violin! Rosie cheered; Eris chirped her pleasure even if she didn't know why.
"Come now, Eris." Rumpelst – Mr. Gold – said, beckoning her toward the back of the shop with his cane. Eris chirped her acquiescence, Yes sir, Rosie obeyed. Before she could leap down from the counter the bell chimed over the door again. Mr. Gold's expression darkened as he faced their visitor.
"Madame Mayor, to what do I owe the displeasure of your presence today?" He greeted the dark-haired woman before him. She momentarily seemed taken aback before a mask of gloating came over her face.
"Just dropping in on my favorite citizens today. I am allowed, as your mayor." Regina, the mayor – Gods, really? – replied with venomous honey. "No need to be hostile." The hateful woman turned toward the cat, who sat currently slit-eyed and fur on end.
"And this must be your little champion; she is usually hiding in the back." Regina continued. The victorious knowing glint in her eye told Rosie that she knew she was awake and couldn't do anything about it. Wench!
"Don't touch her." Mr. Gold warned. But when had Regina ever heeded the warnings of her former mentor? Regina had already reached out to pet Eris, but hell if Rosie was going to allow that.
Eris reared and hissed, swatting at the Evil Queen's hand violently. She hit home and Regina cried out as four angry lines sprouted against her ivory hand.
"You need to put a leash on your cat!"
"I told you not to touch her." He replied calmly with a smug half-smile.
Regina glared at the cat, a promise of retribution, before she spun around on her fancy high-heels and marched out of the shop.
These next 28 years weren't going to be so bad after all.
Bring it on.
Rosie made sure Eris lived up to her namesake. She couldn't command the stars or conjure golden apples that drove people nuts but a few disemboweled "presents" left on the front porch of the Mayor's house, constantly under Regina's feet in the shop or the occasional chases by Pongo through her pristine yard, and some chewed cables or shredded documents eased Rosie's boredom throughout the years with the added bonus of Regina's mindless fury.
Then there was the water main incident where the sealants of the pipes had been mysteriously worn away and flooded the streets. Regina burst into the half-soaked shop wanting to blame the cat (oh, she knew who was responsible) only for Mr. Gold to round on her about his damaged properties due to her incompetence to properly maintain the town facilities, and about his poor drenched and traumatized show champion huddled in the back, definitely not snickering with glee.
And the fish incident; don't know how the straps holding the door down on the local fish delivery truck snapped and subsequently left hundreds of fish to spill into the streets.
The horse incident, the stoplight incident, the flyer incident and others… and she wasn't the only one who could enjoy them. Rosie had found that her Uncle Jefferson was awake too and would often visit him. Once he realized she was awake, but trapped in her feline form, he seemed relieved and happy for some kind of knowing company. She remembered when he disappeared; she was babysitting Grace (too old to be babysat really, but she enjoyed the tea parties) and when Rumpelstiltskin came to collect her, he had to tell Grace the news and sent her to live with her aunts.
Dove was around too, but he didn't remember her. Luckily he too was still in service to their mutual master as his jack-of-all-trades strongman again. He didn't seem to mind pampering Mr. Gold's prized cat.
Now? Things are changing; after the first (and last) visit Storybrooke got from a couple of strangers the Mayor decided she wanted a child. Eris was lazily sunning herself by the window when the vapid harpy came strolling through the door, half-proud and half-desperate, and asked her father for a baby. Both of us were so relieved she meant adoption…
Henry was a pleasant kid and he only seemed to enjoy the presence of the pampered pet as he got older. No friends, stuck in therapy, his 'mom' was always busy and no one else seemed to pay him much attention. Mr. Gold allowed Henry to stick around Eris only because he was the only person, other than himself, Dove, and Jefferson, whom the cat didn't spit and hiss at.
Then Miss Blanchard gave him the book.
Not long after, Henry disappeared and came back with his biological mother.
Emma.
A/N: Yes, I made Gold a cat-person.
Beta mode. This was started some time ago and I had to take a break for real-life type things; it may take a while as I battle through my block. Reviews are welcomed.
I have a ficlet series also in the works that highlight moments of Rosalind's childhood and infamy as PiB, and her shenanigans during the initial curse.
Rosie/Eris will be used interchangeably. Father/Master/Warden will be used interchangeably (I am my pets' parent and therefore use 'father/mother' instead of 'owner').