The Beauty Underneath

Chapter 5 ~ Returns

"Pouncival, she doesn't want to see anyone."

Pouncival flinched. He had heard about Jemima's encounter with the Hidden Paw last night along with the rest of the tribe, he wanted to make sure she was still smiling, that she was actually safe. However, Skimbleshanks' glare was one of an overprotective father, which was enough to make Pouncival want to faint right there and then. He still needed to see her though so he attempted to argue once more.

"She'll see me! Please, just tell her that I'm here…"

"Pouncival, don't talk back to your elders."

It wasn't Skimbleshanks or Jennyanydots scalding him this time but Demeter. Her usual gentle exterior was replaced with a concerned one, as soon as she came into view everyone went silent, the atmosphere made him feel uneasy.

"Go, Pounce…" he turned to retort but was cut off with, "Now!"

He gave Jennyanydots a harsh look and sighed before nodding and storming off. The two elder cats looked at her suspiciously and Demeter returned their looks by walking directly into their den and straight to the entrance of Jemima's space. The two didn't stop her, there was no point in trying, she had the aura of a determined Mother, one that would not be swayed. She wrapped her knuckled on the door,

"Jemima, I'm coming in."

Demeter didn't wait for a reply and was greeted by her daughters tear stained face. The golden queen shut the door and then timidly faced the girl, Jemima tried to avoid eye contact by playing with her tail nervously. Demeter sighed and walked slowly to her before sitting on her bed and throwing her arms clumsily around the girl and crying into her shoulder.

"I wanted to protect you, I wanted to keep you away from him… Please understand, I always wanted to keep you Jemima, you were the only good thing to come out of mine and Macavity's…relationship… Anyway, please don't hate me. Oh, of course you hate me. I'm a despicable woman…"

It was odd, the golden queen probably should have been comforting her but Jemima felt the need to rock her gently and mumble, "Its okay, I'm fine." Demeter continued to cry and make pathetic little hiccupping noises. It angered the smaller queen however she repressed it and continued to comfort the woman.

"What did he say to you, Jemima?" Demeter managed to say, wiping her tears and looking at her shakily.

The younger queen paused. Her feelings towards the ginger tom were at the moment very mixed. She couldn't shake the look of sorrow in his eyes as she turned her back on him and left with the others, it hurt to think about it. Her eyebrows knitted together and she turned her head away from her biological Mother,

"I… He sang." She gave a dry chuckle, "He sang to me and showed me things…"

"What did he show you?" Demeter grabbed Jemima's forearms and when she didn't answer gave her a little shake, "Jemima, what did he show you?"

"It was nothing bad… In fact," she said tilting her head to the side slightly, "It was beautiful. He showed me things that I could have never imagined and it felt so real. Then he came through the mirror and… I didn't want to believe it."

Demeter looked down, her brow puckered as she tried to repress the thought of it. There were few that understood Macavity's way of thinking and even then they were usually very confused by the tom. He was completely mad… And that was the beauty of it. The enthralling and enchanting madness that could seem flawless was too rich… Too intoxicating for some to swallow.

"Its funny…" Jemima said, laughing dryly, "In some ways… I wish I was still there."

He had showed her everything. Stripped off all defenses, revealed a side to her that he hadn't shown anyone else, tried to be as gentle as possible… And she still left him.

The look in her eyes, though… Those damn eyes!

He couldn't shake her expression when she saw who he was. Macavity certainly wasn't stupid; he knew that she had most probably heard stories about him and the things he had done. But he saw her double take, he saw the longing in her eyes and her lips quiver as if dying for another taste.

He looked at the mirror he had previously stepped out of. Of course it was an illusion but as he tapped on the glass he verified, almost to himself, that it was solid. With a snigger, he looked at his reflection and run his finger down its cheek, his eyebrows raised in a musing manner. He knew she wanted to see him again, her face said it all when she left. However, he knew she wouldn't abandon her pride and come back to him. So instead, he would have to go get her.