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“Aelwyn. I wish to discuss with you something of utmost importance.”
“Yeah?” Aelwyn replies, not looking away from where she’s been sorting through and cataloguing books on a shelf. It’s been a painfully long process, one she’s been trying to work her way through for months. God, she grumbles to herself. Why the fuck do a bunch of pirates have so many books? “What about?”
“This,” the voice says, and the sound of a sullen meow causes Aelwyn to freeze.
Her head snaps to the side. Standing there, her fiery wings folded against her back, is Ayda, carrying one of Aelwyn’s cats. Immediately, Aelwyn lunges forward, snatching poor Hector out of Ayda’s grasp. “Don’t hold him like that!”
For a moment, Ayda blinks, wide-eyed. “Is there a proper method for holding a cat?”
“Obviously,” Aelwyn scoffs. She hoists Hector up in her arms, softening momentarily as the big softie nuzzles into her chest. She can feel and hear him purring, a steady vibration. It relaxes her. “You’re not supposed to hold them under their arms,” she explains, redirecting her focus to Ayda. Lifting the cat slightly, Aelwyn continues. “You can cradle them, or support them by the chest and the hips — like this.”
Ayda’s expression smooths out slightly. She nods. “I see. Thank you for demonstrating, Aelwyn.”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” she mutters. Shrugging it off, Aelwyn asks, “So. You wanted to discuss something with me? Is this about Hector, or…?”
“Hector?” As Aelwyn lifts the cat in her arms, Ayda’s eyes glint. “Ah, right. Your cat. Well, I suppose this does concern Hector, but I would say this has more to do with all your cats as a whole.”
“Meaning?” Aelwyn can’t help the barbs that prick her voice. She is fiercely protective of all her cats, thank you very much. They are all her wonderful fur-babies, and she snaps to attention like an overzealous mother whenever someone even remotely talks bad about any of them. It’s one of those things where only she can insult her own cats, because they’re hers, the same way that only Aelwyn has the privilege to bully Adaine because she’s her younger sister.
Her ferocity must show in both her face and her voice because Ayda seems to pause, taking a moment to think things through. “While I understand your attachment to your cats,” she finally says, “they have begun to pose a problem.”
“Such as?”
“The copious amount of vomiting they do.” As Aelwyn scoffs, rolling her eyes, Ayda’s voice hardens. “If it were just on the floor, or on any solid furniture— well, that would be of no issue at all. Such things can be cleaned up. But— Aelwyn, just now, I watched as Hector jumped onto a table and threw up into one of our patrons’ open book.”
“Hector jumped?” Aelwyn murmurs, momentarily surprised. With a smile, she cuddles the cat closer to her chest. “Oh, you’re getting exercise. You’re still agile!”
“Aelwyn!”
“The vomiting, yes,” Aelwyn sighs. “I get it, Ayda. And listen, I said I would clean up any and all messes my cats create. I still stand by that.”
Ayda looks frustrated. “But these messes would not occur at all if your cats were not here.”
It may be sound logic — no cats means no messes, no hairballs or half-digested food or puke to clean up. And perhaps an environment like Compass Points isn’t meant for ten cats to inhabit, as much as Aelwyn enjoys it when her kitties come along with her to work. She knows Ayda has been vexed by her cats’ tendencies to chase her around, always batting their claws at her feathered wings, or trying to pounce on her taloned legs. But all the same, Ayda’s a bird, and the cats are cats, and anyway, she got one of the pirates visiting the library — some ship bard — to speak with her cats and tell them to knock it off.
All the same, though… these cats are hers. Aelwyn doesn’t like the thought of leaving them to their own devices all day in Mordred, especially when so many of them are emotionally attached to her after she rescued them from their years spent stuck in a cold, dark shelter.
There’s a reason why she installed a cat flap in the door that leads to Mordred Manor. She wants to give them the option to come find her if they want to nuzzle against her ankles and meow for a scratch behind the ears.
“I’ll clean up any messes that happen,” Aelwyn reaffirms again. Except Ayda still stares at her with a firm look in her eyes, and Aelwyn bites back a hiss. “And I’ll come up with a ward, okay? Something that’ll protect the books, so if there is another mess, they won’t get damaged. Is that satisfactory?”
At that, Ayda finally relaxes. “Yes. And Aelwyn?”
“What?”
“Thank you.”