Chapter Text
There were stars in the trees.
Mistoffelees found himself entranced at the sight of hundreds of little lights floating in every tree that lined the way up to the stately house of Lady Grizabella. Clearly, she had gone to great lengths hiring someone able to perform some level of magic to have decorated in such a way. Magical cats weren’t exactly common and those that possessed the skill were highly sought after. In fact, Mistoffelees had only heard of two such cats, the children of an earl if he remembered correctly, who had both been made immediate members of the queen’s inner circle. Even a cat from a low station who possessed magic could easily find themselves as entertainers to royalty or assistants to the upper class, depending on their skill, but none had been born in several years.
Truly, anyone with such skills would be considered a rare jewel.
“That woman… of course she would procure the court magicians for something as paltry as decor. My word, I certainly hope the rest of the atmosphere lives up! Particularly the refreshments…”
Both the younger cats giggled softly at their Uncle’s ever passionate love of fine cuisine.
“Now then, your mother has entrusted me with helping you through this grand ordeal, and I intend to do so! To that end,” the older man fixed them both with a look, “I must know what it is you both want.” The twinkle in their uncle’s eye reminded both Victoria and Mistoffelees so much of their late father. Though he had passed years and years ago when they were children, they still missed him everyday.
It was their father who had never failed to remind them of the importance of love. Many people found mates based on things like status, beauty, money, and skill; but love, their father had told them, was not based on any one thing in particular. No material could buy it, no special skill could create it, it could only exist and it was the greatest and most important thing to find in a mate. At least, that was what he had told them as children and that was what their mother had continued raising them to believe.
The siblings looked at each other, unsure if they should divulge this. Society cats had a tendency to scoff at love, prioritizing other things in regards to mating.
Surely, Uncle Bustopher would be more interested in finding the wealthiest partners or those with high ranking titles for them.
In the end, it was Victoria broke the silence.
“Love.”
Mistoffelees eyes widened. She had said it…
“I think i can safely speak for us both when i say, we wish to find mates who can be our best friend and… and love us as we love them.”
Mistoffelees braced himself for what kind of reaction this bold statement might provoke.
Uncle Bustopher only smiled.
“Excellent.”
~
The interior of the manor was incandescent. Lady Grizabella was known as one of the most fashionable cats in the ton, despite her age, and her tastes in decor showed it. The foyer was a sumptuous display of royal blues and golds, from the flowers and tapestries to the chandeliers and tablecloths. To Uncle Bustopher’s delight, there were tables filled with mouthwatering refreshments: chocolates, pastries, cuts of meat and cheese in every variety. Mistoffelees felt his own mouth water despite his stomach churning from nerves.
Two butlers stood by the entrance ready to collect their cloaks. As they entered, a stout cat took a card from their uncle and turned to the bustling room.
“Lord Bustopher Jones and his niece and nephew, Miss Victoria and Mister Mistoffelees,” he announced over the chatter. A number of faces turned their way and many lit up in recognition of the well known Bustopher Jones. Then, those same gazes zeroed in, scrutinizing the new faces he brought with him. Mistoffelees couldn’t help feeling a tad like prey…
This was it.
Uncle Bustopher led them into the room, greeting friends and acquaintances cheerfully as they passed on their way to the ballroom. Through two grand double French doors, was a positively gilded hall that sparkled with the light of four crystal chandeliers as well as more of the curious floating lights from outside. Laughter and chatter filled the space as guests mingled. Music floated down from a balcony above where a string sextet sat. Everything smelled of perfume and champagne. Mistoffelees had to consciously keep his face neutral as the sights and sounds flooded his mind.
“Now then let’s see,” their uncle began in hushed tones as they stood by the edge of the dance floor. Guests were already twirling about to the swells of beautiful music and Mistoffelees yearned to join in. In the face of all the potentially terrifying unknowns, dancing was something that could keep him grounded. He knew how to dance and dance well. “A good crop of newcomers this year,” their uncle continued, “over there is Pouncival, son of an earl, he’s just debuted this year and quite the dancer I’ve heard. Oh, and Electra, no title but very good family, also her first year, she’s a tad shy but very nice from what people tell.”
Mistoffelees eyes wandered over the groups of younger guests their uncle pointed to, trying to commit the names and faces to memory.
“Lord Bustopher! A pleasure to see you again,” a young man with black and gray hair and tabby striped ears approached them with a warm smile and kind golden eyes. “These must be the relatives I've been hearing about!”
“Mr. Munkustrap, a pleasure as always,” their uncle took both the other cat’s paws in a friendly shake. “Yes, yes, these are my niece, Miss Victoria,” Victoria smiled and curtseyed gracefully, “and my nephew, Mister Mistoffelees!” Mistoffelees let his body fold in an expertly executed bow. His etiquette instructor always praised how elegant he made the gesture look. “It’s their first season, very exciting business, wouldn’t you agree?” their uncle continued.
“Oh indeed, I remember mine,” Munkustrap said with a grin. “Well, I would be remiss if I didn't contribute to your enjoyment of your first ball,” Munkustrap said genially, “Miss Victoria, would you allow me to escort you to the floor for your first dance of the evening?”
Victoria’s rosy cheeks grew pinker as she looked to her uncle for permission. He gave a hearty nod and the young woman took the arm of their new acquaintance.
“Munkustrap is certainly a catch; son of a duke who happens to be the closest advisor to the queen; a fine fellow overall, respectful, protective, generous. It's his third season out, though he seems to be taking his time in selecting his partner. I suspect he might be waiting on someone in particular,” Bustoher’s eyes shot to the far corner of the room. Mistoffelees followed his uncle's gaze to a black and white haired young man with mismatched black and white ears and beautiful gray eyes. He seemed to be watching Munkustrap intently on the dance floor despite having two young ladies talking him up by the drink table. “Regardless, he’ll be a good friend to have.”
“I see,” Mistoffelees said, nodding and keeping an eye on the black and white cat who’s frown seemed to grow deeper as Munkustrap took to the floor with Victoria. Uncle Bustopher took notice.
“Mm, Alonzo is a dear but a horrible flirt sometimes. Hard to deal with those, they can’t see what’s right in front of them sometimes. And goodness knows, he’d be a fool to lose Munkustrap… Come, now, let’s see if the punch is any good, hm?”
Mistoffelees watched as his sister spun gracefully with her partner as his uncle led him to the other side of the room. His twin was certainly attracting eyes and whispers from everyone. Surely the next day town would be abuzz with talk of the beautiful white haired girl who had stolen the show at Lady Grizabella’s ball. Mistoffelees, meanwhile, couldn’t help yearning for a partner of his own next so that he could join the floor as soon as possible. He might not have had the striking looks of his sister, but he knew he could attract plenty of attention if he just got the chance to dance.
“Ah, Mungojerrie! You’re not going to try and spike that punch again are you?” Bustopher exclaimed jovially as they made their way toward the beverages. A young man, maybe a year older than Mistoffelees with calico colored hair and ears, stood before them with a girl who appeared to be his sister from their similar looks.
“Who me? Never!” the young man replied, shaking Bustopher’s hand. The sly grin on his face said that he had been very likely doing exactly what Bustopher was accusing him of.
“Mistoffelees, I'd like you to meet Mister Mungojerrie and his sister, Miss Rumpleteazer. Two of the most notorious members of the ton, to be sure,” his uncle said with a pointed look at the two. “My nephew, Mister Mistoffelees.”
The three exchanged pleasantries and Mistoffelees found himself being roped into not one, but two dances, as Rumpleteazer felt that her brother shouldn’t be allowed all the fun. Pleased by this turn of events, Mistoffelees found himself being led to the floor by the older male first just as everyone was taking positions for a waltz.
“So, notorious?” Mistoffelees questioned lightly. His partner gave him a pleasant smile in return.
“Ah, never mind that. Your uncle wouldn’t have let me near you if I weren't a gentleman. What’s a joke or two here and there, though?” Mungojerrie winked as he spun Mistoffelees in an elegant circle.
They were excellent partners for dancing; the calico was several inches taller and graceful yet strong. He had no difficulty lifting Mistoffelees or dipping him nearly to the floor and he seemed quick to pick up on his partner’s movements when they strayed from the basic form of the waltz. To that end, the young black cat found himself sinking into the movements easily and putting just the slightest embellishment into his dancing. He didn’t stray far from the baseline steps but if he added an extra twirl or two, or extended a leg or an arm in a graceful line just to show that he could… well, he was trying to make an impression was he not?
The gavotte he danced with Rumpleteazer was similarly enjoyable. The female calico was an equally talented partner and had no such qualms about showing off which Mistoffelees answered with gusto. He matched her step for step as the fast paced music pushed the dancers along the floor.
It was thrilling. He had never danced outside of his lessons with Victoria before and he liked it. Where fear had once sat in his heart before, now elation took place.
As the set ended, Mistoffelees bowed deeply to Rumpleteazer who returned it with a bright smile.
“You’re an excellent dancer! Save one for me at the next ball, will you?” she said, winking boldly before gliding off towards a group of other young women. A slender cat with sleek brown hair and pale blue eyes, a tall redhead with a fluffy tail like Victoria’s, and a shorter brown and golden haired woman with deep green eyes hold the arm of the redhead. They all eyed Mistoffelees with interest as Rumpleteazer joined them, giggling and whispering in their ears.
Indeed, as the black cat returned to his uncle, who was deep in conversation with an older ginger tabby, Mistoffelees noticed many eyes on him now.
Perhaps his impression had been a good one after all.
~
If anyone told Mistoffelees two hours ago that he would be the most sought after dance partner of the night, he would have laughed and pinched himself.
And yet, here he was on his fifth dance of the evening with the elegant brown haired friend of Rumpleteazer, Cassandra. She was quiet, a bit intimidating as she stood taller than him by an inch or two, but a graceful dancer with a calming demeanor. He was having a wonderful time dancing, but the room was growing warmer and warmer as it was filled with more moving bodies. It had become a tad stifling.
As the song came to a finish, Mistoffelees found himself approached by yet another. Pouncival, that was the name Uncle Bustopher had given earlier. Feeling a tad overwhelmbed, he gave an apologetic smile, he diverted the young man and excused himself, dodging guests left and right. He just needed a moment, a breath of fresh air.
The balcony door lay ahead, a cool night breeze wafting in.
Perfect.
Slipping outside, he let the air caress him, inhaling the sweet scent of jasmine blooming over the terrace. The expansive gardens lay below him, trees and flowers and a charming gazebo lit in the light of the half moon. A hedge maze sat beyond the beds of blooming roses, dark and shadowed.
The dark walk.
The place that could ruin anyone’s reputation if they were caught there without a chaperone.
“Feeling alright, Mister Mistoffelees?” He felt his tail twitch.
The gray tabby, Munkustrap, had come out onto the terrace to join him, leaning against the stone railing a few feet away.
They were alone.
Oh, Everlasting Cat, they were alone out here!
As if sensing his panic, Munkustrap raised both hands placatingly.
“It’s alright! We’re still in perfect view of the room, no need to worry.”
“Are you certain? Because I- I…”
“Can you see your chaperone from here?” Mistofelees glanced through the open doors and, yes, there was Uncle Bustopher sipping his drink with a rosy flush on his cheeks.
“Yes,” Mistoffelees replied, sighing a little.
“Then it's alright. And besides, I’m a man of honor. I’ll not be luring you down to the gardens anytime soon. Though something tells me you’re too smart to be tricked,” the older cat joked.
“Well, I’m glad I give such an impression,” he replied, smirking. “Can’t have everyone here thinking i’m some naive kitten from the country…”
“Oh certainly not, you and your sister have become the talk of the ball. And your uncle spoke very highly of you both before your arrival. In truth, I think everyone’s been a bit curious. I’m sure you’ll have callers galore tomorrow.” Mistoffelees felt somewhat pleased by this information, though he hoped the curiosity would fade soon so they could feel less like they were being inspected by others.
“Oh yes, I'm certain Victoria has amassed plenty of prospects,” he said drily.
Munkustrap laughed. “You as well! Surely you are out here from sore feet, you’ve been dancing so much. Everyone wants a turn with you, from what I’ve observed. You must be exhausted!”
“Ah, not quite,” Mistoffelees admitted shyly.
“Oh? Is something the matter? If anyone has acted out of line, I can see to it they are removed,” Munkustrap offered, his posture shifting to one of protectiveness.
“No! Not at all, just…” He paused. “It’s all a tad overwhelming, I suppose? Thrilling but…”
“A lot,” the older man provided. Mistoffelees found himself smiling at the understanding in Munkustrap’s golden eyes.
“I debuted two years ago at the same time as my younger brother. He was the lively one, the talk of the town, the life of every party. It was easy for him to attract anyone and everyone. For me, such things came less naturally. I, too, required many visits to the balcony at balls for a moment of peace,” he said, tipping his head in acknowledgment.
A pleasant pause rested between the two, underscored by the music from inside. The fresh air tickled Mistoffelees’ nose and the crickets sang. He could feel his energy returning.
“So, you have a brother?”
“Ah, yes. One year younger. He’s been off touring the continent this past year,” Munkustrap provided. “Are you the older sibling as well?”
“By a few minutes,” Minstoffelees teased.
“I see! Perhaps you’ll meet Coricopat and Tantomile at some point. Another set of twins in our bunch, though as the famed magicians of the ton, they tend to keep to themselves. Lots of people would like to get close to them.”
“Ah, are they the ones who made the lights for this evenin?” Mistoffelees questioned, excited by the prospect of ever meeting two magical cats.
“Indeed, they’re distant cousins of Lady Grizabella who is quite close to Her Majesty. They’re here somewhere tonight, though i suspect they’re choosing whether they want to be seen or not.” Mistoffelees felt even more intrigued by Munkustrap’s choice of words. He almost suggested that these two cats could become invisible. “They tend to prefer promenades, much less raucous.”
As if speaking the word had summoned it, a chorus of squeals and giggles erupted from the gaggle of cats by the doorway. Munkustrap turned, his golden eyes growing wide.
“Oh no, you’ve got to be joking. He’s supposed to be in France for another week!”
“Who? What is it?” Mistoffelees was growing evermore confused as Munkustrap’s demeanor shifted from shocked to annoyed. The giggles and chatterings grew louder. Munkustrap faced him with what Mistoffelees could only describe as a look of exasperation.
“My brother,” he replied in a weary voice. “Tugger.”