Chapter Text
In times of distress among the Darkners, entertainment and laughter were welcome solaces. They provided a necessary distraction from the soul-crushing heartache of abandonment by the Lightners, and Seam was keenly aware of the importance of their role as court mage in maintaining high morale. Alongside their dearest jester companion Jevil, the two performed the grandest spectacles of magic and foolery ever witnessed by the inhabitants of the Dark World: bursting waterfalls of white-hot firecrackers shimmering in an array of colors, elaborate kaleidoscopes of spades, hearts, clubs, and diamonds materializing and dissipating as homage to each king, and unmatched acrobatic feats performed by the small, nimble jester with the accompaniment of the magician’s elemental magic. But performing with such energy can take its toll on the body, especially when that body is made of cotton and thread.
One afternoon, as Seam and Jevil bowed to receive the applause of the vast sea of Darkners tightly packed in the Great Hall, the jester happily glanced over at his partner and realized that Seam wasn’t their usual self. Their breathing was labored, and their body appeared feeble and even somehow misshapen, and great stress manifested itself in the clenched teeth and furrowed brow of the obviously fatigued mage. Jevil hurriedly seized the magician’s hand and steered them away to the elevator. They rode down to the basement, which housed Jevil’s sleeping quarters, as well as a myriad of other objects used for the kings’ entertainment, including four tall bronze cages for housing circus animals. In all honesty, despite being meant to house the quarters and dressing rooms of such skilled entertainers, it almost seemed better fit to be a prison.
Once the two reached Jevil’s dressing room, the jester inquisitively rhymed, “What great fun this performance was today, today. But methinks you might have something different to say, hm?”
“Huh? Oh,” Seam chuckled while trying to straighten themself out, “It’s nothing, Jevil, I’m fine. It’s just a little bit of overexertion, that’s all.” It was apparent to the jester that his companion was understating the issue. Floating around the mage, Jevil observed the unusually loose way the purple fur-textured fabric hung about Seam’s body and the frayed stitches around their joints. A pungent musty scent permeated the air around the magician. Jevil took off his gloves and lightly rubbed the worn threading of the cat’s shoulder with his fingertip, making the cotton feline jolt for a split second out of surprise. “Well, it seems, seems that Seam’s seams need re-sewing,” Jevil said with a cock of the head and a knowing gaze. The corners of his mouth twitched upward as he spoke, “I may act the part of the fool, but I’m not foolish, foolish.”
Seam leaned against the vanity and sighed deeply. “I know, my dear Jevil...I apologize for not being fully honest, but the truth is I’m somewhat ashamed to admit my dilemma. You see, I’ve been investing all of my energy into our performances, but I’m afraid I have been neglecting my own health a bit in the process,” Seam chuckled awkwardly, “ I haven’t gotten around to replacing my cotton, and the old fibers are starting to decay and mold.” A twinge of anxiety struck Jevil as he postulated what this meant for his beloved partner and only friend. His thoughts were racing miles a minute, and he felt his stomach constrict into a knot. Decaying?
“W-what’s going to happen to you, Seam?” Seam recognized the worry in Jevil’s eyes and the way his body was quivering, then placed a loving paw on the jester’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, my dear. If a court mage like myself can’t muster the power to fix my own fibers, then perhaps that’s how it’s supposed to be,” Seam said. While the tone was that of a joke, there was an underlying hint of dejection in the way they spoke. Jevil pondered this hard in silence for a bit. His face contorted and scrunched as he mulled over the implications of Seam’s words. Overcome with emotion, he leaped into Seam’s arms and buried his face in the thick fur of his partner’s neck, hugging them firmly, yet gently enough not to displace any of the already unevenly distributed cotton. He didn’t care about the musty smell of the mold growing in the old cotton, and it didn’t bother him when the matted fur tickled his face. Seam’s eyes lit up with surprise at first, and then they returned the affection. After remaining this way for a beat, the mage broke it off and rose, grabbing their supplies.
“Well, I’d best be heading back to the fields. I know you don’t mind the chaos of this castle, but I think I’m better suited for a quieter environment. I’ll see you soon, my dear Jevil.”
“Wait, Seam!” Jevil yelled as Seam approached the door. The mage stopped in their tracks and slowly turned back to face their partner with a loving yet fatigued expression.
“Yes, my companion?” After a moment of silence, Jevil answered with uncharacteristic seriousness, “Could I come by the shop later?”
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Seam quipped and then smiled delicately, “Of course you can.” After a gentle nuzzle against Jevil’s cheek, Seam exited the room with a click of the door shutting behind them. Staring at the closed door, Jevil decided he was going to stop at nothing to help Seam get well.
* * *
Situated deep in the violet fields of the Dark World, a lone structure with an entrance composed of leather and seams protruded from the blackness. Here, Seam lived peacefully away from the bustling liveliness of Card Castle. Of course, as the court mage, they had been offered sleeping quarters inside the castle, but this was much more comfortable for an introvert like Seam. The only sounds were the ticking of an old grandfather clock and the mild breeze blowing through the rouge leaves of the saplings outside. In the living room, Seam dozed within the comfort of an old corduroy recliner until suddenly, a shuffling noise caused them to stir. The room was dark, and everything seemed to be still, yet the shuffling continued. Perplexed, the cotton feline rose and inspected the room for the source of the noise. Nothing. Suddenly, they jumped two feet in the air as they felt gloved hands quickly reach from behind and cover their button eyes.
“Guess who? Uee hee hEE!” Jevil cackled from behind, “What’s wrong? You look flushed, flushed!”
“Jevil, I know I said you could come to visit, but you can’t sneak up on me like that.”
“I can do anything.”
“Well, that doesn’t always mean you should,” Seam responded while trying to regain their composure. They huffed, but then softened when they noticed that Jevil was hauling a large bag with his tail.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Oh, just a little something, something for you, Seam.” Jevil moved from behind the purple mage and turned the bag upside down, dumping all of its contents on the carpeted floor: a small sewing kit, some lemons, salt, and bags upon bags of fresh cotton. Jevil smiled a beaming, toothy grin.
“Since you’ve been feeling down, down, I decided to step up, up. And I’m going to help Seam no matter what it takes!” Seam smiled gently and thanked Jevil for going to such lengths to help a tired and tattered friend; however, there was something about the pile they didn’t wholly understand.
“I really appreciate your help, Jevil. But I’m a little confused; what are the lemons and salt for?”
“Oh, they’re for the bath!”
“The WHAT?”
Jevil quickly scooped up the ingredients and ran to the bathroom before Seam could ask any more questions, but the mage was hot on his trail. “If you think you’re going to get me in the water then I’m going to have to disappoint you,” Seam puffed indignantly.
“Oh come now, Seam. What’s the point of having a bathtub if you don’t bathe, bathe? Besides, it will get rid of the moldy mold.” Seam was silent, squinting as their mouth formed into a reluctant pout.
“What’s the matter, kitty cat?” Jevil taunted while filling the bath with mildly hot water and squeezing the lemons in at a rapid pace, “Got your own tongue?” He teasingly stuck his own tongue out, and Seam exuded a reluctant groan.
“Fine, but on one condition.”
“And what, oh what could that be, Seam?”
“You have to join me!” Seam playfully scooped up the startled jester and tossed him still fully-clothed into the water before carefully joining him.
Jevil giggled with delight at the prank, “Uee hee hee, you got me! But see? It’s not so bad in here.” He turned to sit on Seam’s lap as he collected some warm water into a small pool in his cupped hands, watching it shrink as the fabric of his gloves absorbed the droplets. Seam stared contently intrigued as their small companion did this and breathed in the vapors, as well as the fresh scent of the lemon juice as it mixed with the salt water. Their own fluffy fabric also began soaking up the water and the magician relaxed as the lemons and salt worked its own magic on the mold, killing it rapidly. Jevil decided to accelerate the process by continuing to scoop water into his small hands, then slowly pouring it on Seam’s fluffy head. Despite having been so averse to the idea at first, Seam decided they wouldn’t mind staying here forever with their companion.
Soon after though, Jevil stood up and jumped out, his soaking footwear squelching as it hit the ground. Then, the jester extended his hand to assist Seam out of the tub, whose sopping fabric bulged and heavily dripped water as they stood. “Time to dry off,” Jevil excitedly suggested, “And I think this will do the trick!” He summoned his magic carousel, surrounding himself and his partner as it spun at such a swift pace that it whisked all the water away in a whirlwind of air. When it completed, Seam stared blankly at Jevil, who was shaking uncontrollably, clearly trying to contain a fit of laughter.
“What’s wrong?” Seam asked in great confusion, then turned to glance at themself in the mirror. They practically jumped out of their own fabric when they realized their fur was fluffed to the point that if it were white, they could have been mistaken for a snowball. Jevil couldn’t contain himself, and in seconds he was on the floor bawling with laughter. Even Seam couldn’t help but contain a small chuckle as they straightened their fur out as best as they could. When Jevil recovered, he stood up and grabbed Seam’s hand, pulling them hurriedly into the living room and urging them to sit down.
Jevil went over to the spot on the floor where the cotton and sewing supplies lay and picked them up. Carrying them over to the spot where Seam sat, Jevil plopped down next to the cat and with an unnervingly serious yet tender expression. Their eyes locked and Jevil softly whispered, “Do you trust me?” Seam then realized that Jevil had removed the gloves and was holding something sharp in his fingers: a seam ripper. The mage froze for a second at the sight of it, but of course they trusted Jevil; in fact, there was no one they would trust more in the world.
Seam nodded and sat patiently as their jester companion stood behind them and carefully slid the sharp, bladed side of the forked tool under one of the stitches holding the black patchwork to Seam’s head. RiiIIP. The stitch was cut open, and Jevil continued doing this for three of the sides, leaving one edge intact. He pulled upon the makeshift flap and looked inside at the old cotton, which was shriveled and withering. With the utmost caution, he started replacing each withered piece with a new handful of fresh cotton, careful not to remove too much at a time. Then, when Seam’s head was comfortably packed with new fibers, Jevil pulled a needle out of the sewing kit, threaded it, and sewed the patch closed with remarkable precision and attention.
The jester then proceeded to perform this same task with each tattered patch of Seam’s body; their limbs, paws, chest, and tail were all filled with new soft, breathable cotton and then each seam was restitched tightly with stronger thread. During this process, Seam sat as motionless as possible and while it felt slightly uncomfortable, the resulting relief was absolutely worth the discomfort and their energy grew with each pull of the thread. After the process was complete, Seam felt completely reinvigorated and back to their old self. They stretched deeply and sighed with relief before embracing Jevil tightly in their warm, fuzzy grip.
“Thank you. So much,” Seam whispered, holding Jevil close. Jevil's heartbeat crescendoed inside his chest. Heat crept up his face, all the way to the tips of his ears. He returned the hug, squeezing tightly and feeling the soft furs of Seam’s neck brush against his cheek as he buried his face in the cat’s shoulder. He then pulled back to gaze at his now much more animated partner’s face, and with a wide, toothy smile on his lips, he spoke, “No need to thank me, me. For you, Seam, I will do anything.”