Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Above the door of a humble cottage in the woods, wind chimes dance together in the breeze. It is the first thing Aaron hears as he wakes that morning. He takes a deep breath, stretching his arms over his head, before squinting his eyes open. Pale morning sunlight filters through a crack in the curtains, giving the room a soft orange glow. Summer is growing old. Autumn will be here soon. It is the season Aaron does most of his foraging, in preparation for winter, which is his busiest time.

With a soft groan, Aaron rolls over and heaves himself out of bed. He shall not worry himself with that yet. There are still long, slow, warm evenings to be enjoyed. He potters through his usual morning routine; brewing hot water by the fire for tea, toasting thick slices of bread, adorning them with smears of jam and fresh fruit. Aaron carries his bounty out to the table at the back of his cottage so he can enjoy his breakfast with the background soundtrack of the forest. 

He bumps the back door open with his hip, hands occupied with teapot, plate, currently empty mug hooked over one of his fingers. There is a beetle crawling over his table. Aaron flicks his hand, and a gust of wind brushes it clear. The insect spirals down to the ground and is dropped unharmed. Aaron arranges the table and sits with a soft pleased sigh. He leads an uneventful, solitary life among these trees, but it is one of quiet contentment, and he asks for little more.

Taking a moment to appreciate his surroundings, Aaron leans back in his chair and sweeps his gaze across his yard. His cottage is in a large clearing. It is a small, humble building. A bedroom in the loft over an open kitchen and living space. A separate washroom attached at the back. Beside the cottage is a fenced off garden. Mostly Aaron grows herbs here, both for medicinal purposes and his cooking, but there is also a small vegetable patch. Behind the cottage is a cluster of fruit trees. To the other side of his house is a chicken coop. He only has three hens, for he has need of no more eggs than that. Mostly they have free reign of the yard and surrounding woods, but he closes them in at night or if he is venturing out for a considerable time. Aaron has wards that keep most predators away, but it is better to be safe than sorry. 

He flicks his hand in the direction of the chicken coop, undoing the catch. The door swings open. One of the girls cautiously eases her way out. It is not long before the other two follow. Wind whistles its way between the trees, rustling the leaves, ruffling Aaron’s hair. Sun rays caress along Aaron’s skin, already chasing the chill from the morning air. He cradles his steaming mug to his chest, closes his eyes, and relishes in it. Until one of his chickens clucks loudly in alarm.

Aaron’s eyes snap open. They move quickly to the source of the sound. The chickens are rushing back towards him, circling the table, expecting Aaron to protect them. A shadow moves in the tree line. A dark shape slinking forward. Aaron’s body tenses in anticipation. He pushes his chair back, sitting straighter. The dark shape solidifies as it gets closer and Aaron can finally see what it is. A cat.

The cat prowls into the sunlight, dark fur almost shining beneath it. The cat is black all over, but with big, bright emerald eyes. He pauses when he spots Aaron, hackles raising. For a moment Aaron thinks the cat will retreat. That he was targeting the hens, but upon seeing him will be spooked off. Aaron is wrong. The cat pulls back his lips, bares his teeth, and hisses viciously. Then he darts forward. 

“Hey!” Aaron jolts out of his seat, jumping to the defence of his chickens. It soon becomes apparent this valiant protective act is unnecessary. The cat does not even look towards the chickens, instead springing for Aaron’s feet with slashing claws. “What the fuck?”

Sharp pain shoots up Aaron’s shins. He instinctually jumps back, but the cat’s claws are caught in the material of his trousers, and he gets yanked along with a yowl of protest. Wrapping his legs around Aaron’s, he digs his claws into his calf. Aaron’s automatic response is to kick his leg out, sending the cat sailing off. Evidently all cats do not land on their feet, for this one lands sprawled on his side with a distressed mew. Despite the clawed up state of his leg, Aaron can’t help but find that sound pitiful. 

The ladies are clucking up a storm in the midst of all this action. They are all too happy to go when Aaron ushers them back towards their coop. He edges around the cat, but he hasn’t moved again. Aaron can see him more clearly now. His fur is tangled with brambles and burrs from the forest. He doesn’t look in poor health, nor does he bear any battle wounds to suggest he has been in a recent fight, but there is no collar adorning his throat. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Aaron asks. The cat hisses, rolling onto his stomach. He stays close to the earth, assessing Aaron with those eyes. Aaron has nothing to wave at the cat. He stomps his foot and hisses. “Get out of here.”

The cat raises his hackles. He backs up a few paces, tail swaying dangerously behind him. Aaron is not overly well versed in cat body language. He gets on with them as well as he gets on with any animal, but the most contact he really has is with Andrew’s cats, who he doesn’t see that often. Aaron is more partial to dogs. He’s been meaning to get one for company around the cottage. Perhaps a dog would also spare him random cat attacks. 

“What are you waiting for? Go!” Aaron stomps closer. The cat hisses, fur bristling all over his body. He backs up several more paces before sprinting for the tree line. Instead of running back the way he came, he clambers up a tree, hiding in the branches. Aaron walks closer and glares up at him with his hands on his hips. “You better stay the fuck away from my chickens or I won’t be as nice next time.”

Irritated, he returns to his breakfast. His toast has gotten cold. Aaron huffs. He drops into his seat and pulls his pyjama trouser leg up, frowning at the claw scratches and puncture marks on his leg. There’s blood smeared on his skin. Aaron rolls the material above his knee. He’ll clean up and tend to himself after he eats, but the relaxed air of his breakfast has been sullied. Slumping down in his seat, he glares at the tree the cat is in. He can only see the cat’s dropped tail, swaying from the branch. 

Once Aaron has cleared away his dishes, he cleans up his leg. The wounds are mostly superficial, though a couple of the punctures on his calf feel quite deep. There is a large cabinet in the cottage that is absolutely crammed with all kinds of healing remedies. Potions, salves, tonics, creams, powders, tinctures; anything it is in Aaron’s power to create. His main income tends to be from selling these as bulk orders to local shops, pharmacies, and doctor’s offices, though on the odd occasion people will make their own way to the witch in the woods seeking a cure to their ails. Usually these are people who cannot afford to pay for medicine, and will make trades with Aaron instead. 

Aaron takes down a salve and rubs it over his wounds. His skin cools, the sting immediately dissipating. By this afternoon, the cuts will have closed up. By the time he goes to bed tonight, the wounds will be healed entirely. Satisfied, Aaron gets dressed for the day. He will spend the morning tending to his garden. Then he will take a basket on a walk through the forest. He is not in dire need of anything, but there is an ingredient he is running low on he would like to gather more of. In the afternoon, he will spend a few hours making one or two remedies, then his evening is his to spend how he wishes. Cooking, cleaning, reading a book, soaking in a bath. The bath could be nice, actually. Sprinkle some ground plants in there, soak his scratched up leg. 

There is a wide brimmed hat hanging by the back door. Aaron pulls it on before he steps out. There is a stream not far from his house, and his plants grow better when they have water from it. Aaron collects his watering can and heads towards the distant sound of running water. As he passes through the tree line he hears a meek meow. Frowning, Aaron tips his hat back and looks up. The cat is still in the tree, pressed tight to the trunk. He waves one paw in the air at Aaron, before quickly placing it back on the branch. 

“Still here, huh? What? You stuck?” Aaron rolls his eyes. “You got yourself up there. You can get yourself down.”

The cat bleats in response. It’s not a sound Aaron has heard a cat make before, though he is not familiar with cats in distress. He decides to ignore the beast. Potentially it is playing him, looking to draw him closer so it can attack again. Aaron has no time for these games. He walks on towards the stream. Usually he would revel in the soft sounds of the forest; the breeze, the bird song, the trickling of the stream. It is all punctuated by the panicked yowling of that fucking cat this morning. 

The cat is still in the tree when Aaron gets back. He continues to cry out as Aaron waters his garden, cures any wilting leaves, pushes gentle magic into the soil to encourage growth. He drops into soft, pathetic mews by the time Aaron is done, sweat slick on the back of his neck, hands darkened with dirt. Aaron washes them off and rubs them dry on his dungarees. He crosses cautiously to the tree and looks up. The cat is trembling miserably, pressed right to the bark, nails clutching the branch. 

“Are you really stuck?” Aaron takes his hat off. The cat gives a tiny mew. Aaron sighs. He can move small objects with his magic, but he wouldn’t be strong enough to lift a cat down, especially if the cat starts squirming. Which it likely will. “If I come up and get you, are you going to attack me again?”

The cat meows in a way that sounds like a negative, but perhaps the midday sun is just getting to Aaron. Regardless, now that he has seen the cat seems to be stuck, there is no world in which he just leaves him up there. He is an animal, after all. Even if he did hurt Aaron this morning, that wasn’t a premeditated attack. He doesn’t know better. Perhaps he is just lost and spooked, or maybe humans have been unkind to him before. Either way, Aaron will get him down, even if it does mean getting scratched up in the process.

The ladder Aaron has is a simple wooden one that folds in the middle. It is not tall enough to reach the branch the cat is in, but if Aaron balances at the top of it, he should be able to stretch up. More precariously than he would prefer, but he does not have many other options. Height is not an area he is blessed in. He just has to get on with what he’s got.

“If you scratch me, I’m going to fall, and I will drop you,” Aaron calmly informs the cat. Big green eyes gaze down at him, whiskers vibrating as the cat trembles. Aaron sighs. He rocks the ladder side to side to check the stability of the legs. He starts to climb. 

He can just reach the branch from the top of the ladder. He tries to fit his hands in around the cat, but the cat is pressed so tightly to the tree that he makes this difficult. Aaron has to press his fingers into the cat’s side to pry him away from the bark enough that he can get a grip. The cat fucking growls at him, a sound he wasn’t even aware cats could make, then alternates between grumbling and crying as Aaron tries to get a solid hold on him. When he finally manages a grip that allows him to lift the cat away from the branch, the cat panics. His claws are embedded into the wood. Aaron wriggles him, trying to unhook them. When they come free the cat yowls and digs those claws into Aaron’s arms instead. He regrets not putting on something with sleeves before attempting this.

“Fuck you, you furry little cunt,” Aaron hisses, keeping his voice mild so he doesn’t startle the cat. The cat looks at him. All his fur is on edge, his ears flat against his head, his tail bristled. He is clearly terrified. Aaron feels a stab of guilt. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” 

Aaron gets the cat against his chest. The cat shifts from clutching his arm, instead clinging to his dungarees and pressing his small face against Aaron’s shoulder. This close, Aaron can feel how fiercely he is trembling. Any of his remaining anger fades away. He hugs the cat to him with one arm, using his other hand to balance against the tree as he climbs down the ladder. He’s a big cat. Even though his body is slim beneath his fur, Aaron’s arm strains with the weight of him. The cat seems in no hurry to let go of him. Aaron cautiously pets a hand down his back. The cat mews pitifully. 

“There. It’s okay. You’re down now.” He crouches down to let the cat jump to the ground. The cat continues to cling to him for a long moment, before finally detaching his claws. Aaron sets him softly on the grass. He looks up at Aaron with his big eyes, head dipped forward. Aaron knows he is projecting human emotion onto the cat, but the stance looks apologetic. He looks at the fresh claw marks on his arms. He sighs. “This has to stop.”

The cat dips his head lower.

“I know you were scared. It’s okay this time. Are you lost?”

The cat mews. Aaron reaches out slow, wary of being scratched again. The cat tilts his head back and looks at Aaron sideways, but doesn’t attack. Aaron gently feels his neck.

“Hm. Definitely no collar. Though I supposes not everyone collars their cats. Are you from the village?”

The cat looks at him. The cat says nothing, because he is a cat. Aaron clicks his tongue. 

“You hungry?”

At this, the cat meows brightly. He tries to follow Aaron into the cottage.

“Ah. Excuse me.” Aaron blocks the door with his foot. The cat grumbles as he is pushed back outside. “You wait there.” 

Aaron brings cold cuts of meat from the kitchen. The cat will not take them from him. He cuts them up and puts them in a bowl. The cat turns his head up.

“I don’t have any fish,” Aaron says. The cat turns his head away again. Aaron has a feeling cats aren’t actually supposed to drink milk. He thinks Andrew may have told him that once, but he doesn’t have much else to offer the cat, and he doesn’t know when it last ate. Better to get some calories in it. He pours a small amount of milk into a bowl. The cat laps eagerly at this. He looks up at Aaron when he’s done, a milky moustache and beard around his mouth. 

“You’ve made a mess,” Aaron says. The cat flicks his tongue out. Aaron laughs. He can admit it is sort of cute. He slowly extends a hand, gently trailing his finger between the cat’s ears. One of his ears twitches. “I suppose I can check the village next I’m in. See if anyone is missing a cat.” He cleans up the bowl. The cat walks around the outside of the cottage as Aaron moves inside, as if he is trying to catch glimpses of him through the windows. Aaron cleans his arm and puts the salve on his wounds. He grabs his basket and heads back outside. The cat is a novelty, but Aaron still has plans for his day. 

He’s surprised to find when he heads into the forest that the cat follows. His chickens have braved coming out again, but Aaron’s new feline friend does nothing more than look at them briefly before following in Aaron’s wake. He stays close to Aaron’s legs, padding along at his side. After an initial glance down at him, Aaron pays him little mind, thinking attention might scare him off. The company is pleasant, even without direct interaction. 

“Are you sure you want to come with me? I’m going to have to cross the stream today.”

The cat makes a soft, high mew sound, but doesn’t stop following Aaron.

“I think you’re too big to fit in my basket to carry, and there’s no bridge where I cross.”

The cat probably doesn’t understand Aaron anyway. He’s moreso just talking out loud to play out the conventions of a conversation. He often does this with his chickens. They continue on, Aaron humming or singing to himself as they go. He knows what he wants to gather today, and so he doesn’t waste time looking for anything on his way. The point of the stream he usually crosses has several big stones that he is able to step across when the rains have not been heavy and the flow of water is low enough for the stones surface to be dry. In the wetter seasons, Aaron cannot always access this crossing. Today, it is passable.

The cat paws at Aaron’s leg as he is readying himself to step across. He had been going to leave the cat on this side, but the cat stands on his back legs, front paws against Aaron’s thigh, as if asking to be lifted.

“You want up?”

The cat gives a long meow. After a moment of internal debate, Aaron leans down. The cat jumps up, catching his shoulder. Aaron wraps an arm around his back and stands, hoisting the cat up against him. The cat gives a low purr of satisfaction. 

“It’s your fault if I drop you,” he says. The cat stops purring. Aaron secures his hold, then stretches out a leg to one of the stones. Slowly, he shifts his weight across. He is well practised at this, but he is not usually carrying a cat. Aaron jumps to the next stone. The cat gives a surprised yowl in protest. “Shh. Almost there.”

He eases himself to the next stone, having to bend to keep his balance, then springs across to the grassy bank on the other side. The cat evidently does not like being jerked in this manner. Aaron peels him away from his chest and sets him back on the ground. 

“Not far now.” On this side of the river, there are some raspberry bushes. The fruit is not ripe yet, but some are already starting to take shape; small, green, and hard. It is not fruit Aaron is here for. He will collect that later in the autumn months, perhaps make jam from it. Today he is here for the leaves. He takes a pair of gloves out of the back pocket of his dungarees and starts to carefully pull leaves from the plant. The cat sits by his right foot and watches. “Raspberry leaves are best when they’re collected in spring, before the plant flowers, but I can still make use of them now. They have astringent and anti-oxidant qualities, so I can use them in lots of different things.”

The cat tilts his head. One of his ears twitches.

“That’s what I do. I make remedies. Magic medicine. Well, not all of them are actually magic. A lot of it is just knowing the qualities of different plants and how to best use them. I’d be exhausted if I was pumping magic into everything. Don’t tell, though. People come to me because they want to believe it’s all magic cures.”

Once Aaron is satisfied with the amount of leaves he has collected, he closes over the lid of his basket and peels his gloves off. 

“I mean, I can do magic healing. If people come to me directly, sometimes it is easier to skip the potions and use magic. It’s just also far more tiring for me, so I can’t help as many people that way.”

The cat meows in a way that Aaron perceives to be inquisitive. 

“Yeah. I like helping people. I don’t always love being around them, which is why I’m happy in my cottage away from the village, but I like that I can help. It’s nice to feel like I have a purpose.”

The cat dips his head. He gives a low grumble. Aaron does not know how to interpret that.

“Anyway. You don’t even know what I’m saying. Come on, back over the stream.”

Their return journey is uneventful. Aaron picks a few more plants on his way back to top up some of his stores, but he is largely satisfied with his raspberry leaf haul. He washes everything he collected when he gets back to the cottage and spreads them on trays near the window to dry. The cat jumps up on the windowsill above the sink and watches him. After some time, Aaron realises he does not seem capable of getting down again. 

“You’re a disaster. How come you have no issue getting up places? Stop climbing if you can’t jump down.” He lifts the cat, who has been mewing pathetically for the past ten minutes. “You’ve got so much shit stuck in your fur. Can you not clean this?” 

The cat just looks at him. Aaron sighs. He sits on his outdoor chair, propping the cat on his lap. When he doesn’t leap off, Aaron starts to work the burrs out of his fur. The cat shifts around for a moment before settling into place on his thighs and letting Aaron work. He methodically picks the brambles and branches from the cat’s fur, moving him as he needs, ignoring the cat’s grumbles. “This is probably a waste of time. You’re just going to pick up more in the forest again.”

Aaron sighs. He brushes off his hands. The cat looks up at him with a quiet purr. It’s a nice sound. He can understand why people like these animals. Aaron strokes the cat a few times before lifting him off his lap and setting him on the ground. 

“I have work to do now. Stay out of trouble.”

The cat tries to follow Aaron inside, but Aaron once more blocks the door with his foot. He nudges the cat back outside, ignoring the vocal protest. He has work to do. He doesn’t need a cat knocking over his vials or getting hairs in his potions. 

Aaron spends his afternoon grinding, mixing, boiling, and bottling. He cracks the window to let some air in and has to listen to the cat complain nonstop. Sometimes his girls give alarmed clucks in response, but the cats leave them alone. Aaron sighs. He turns up the music he is playing as background noise. He can still hear the cat. 

When his work is done for the day, Aaron tidies away his potion pots and utensils and replaces them with his cooking pots and utensils. He looks out the window. The cat has jumped back up on the windowsill and is staring in at him. Aaron frowns. The cat is unmoved. He watches Aaron as he chops vegetables on the counter, a pot coming to boil on the stove. He knows it is only a cat, but he can’t help but feel perceived as the cat watches him, as if he is being judged. The cat paws at the window pane.

“Stop that. Don’t get marks on the glass.”

The cat gives a very sassy sounding mreow in response. Aaron leans forward and knocks sharply on the glass, startling the cat, causing him to jump. His paws scramble for purchase as he almost topples off the window ledge. He bares his teeth and hisses at Aaron. 

“Are you stuck again?” Aaron frowns when the cat goes quiet. “I told you not to jump up if you can’t get down. You may just stay there.”

He adds the vegetables to the pot. His food stores are starting to flag. He will need to visit the village soon, but has enough to make a rich stew that will last a few days. He harvested his potatoes earlier in the week, has a good amount of them to bulk his stew out with. Aaron breathes in as the warm, homely scents of his cooking start to fill the room. He loves to cook. Similar motions to making his remedies but with less required precision. A lot of his magic is about measurement and details, but cooking is experimentation and art. Spending some time in the kitchen after he’s been working helps him decompress.

It is still warm outside, so Aaron takes his food to eat in the yard. The cat mews pitifully as he takes his seat. Aaron glances over his shoulder at him, but he told the cat to find his own way down, and so he won’t run to rescue him this time. If he keeps jumping up onto high places, he must know how to get down. The chickens run over to Aaron, slowing as they approach the table, pecking around his chair. He’s saved the waste from his chopped vegetables to give them as a treat when they go into their coop tonight. 

“Mreoooooow.”

Aaron ignores the cat. He blows on his spoonful of stew before putting it in his mouth, closing his eyes to savour the rich flavour. Good, he’s balanced the seasoning well. Aaron gets to his third mouthful before he finally gives in to the crying of the cat.

“Stay down this time,” he says, scooping the cat up and depositing him on the ground. When Aaron drops back into his chair, the cat tries to jump into his lap. “No. I’m eating. Not for you.”

The cat stares up at Aaron. He waves his paw in the air as if indicating he wants what is in Aaron’s bowl.

“No.”

The cat meows. He waves his paw more insistently. Aaron sighs.

“It’s mostly vegetables. Do cats eat vegetables?”

The cat nods. Quite distinctly. Aaron blinks hard, because he can’t have just seen that, but when he opens his eyes again the cat is still nodding.

“Uh. Okay. You can have some, I guess.”

Aaron gets the bowl to let the cat drink from earlier and scoops a smaller portion of stew into it. The cat has jumped up on the table by the time he gets back, but is on the far side from Aaron’s bowl. 

“You shouldn’t be up there.”

The cat’s tail swishes back and forth. Aaron frowns disapprovingly, but he puts the bowl in front of the cat. He sniffs, before shuffling forward and dipping his head to the bowl. After a hesitant lick, the cat lifts a piece of carrot between his teeth and starts to chew. Aaron returns to his own meal. He watches the cat as he eats. Sometimes the cat’s eyes flick up towards him, but mostly he is focused on his food. When he is done, he pushes the bowl back towards Aaron with his paw. He has eaten all the vegetables but carefully picked around any pieces of meat.

“Are cats not mainly carnivorous?” Aaron frowns into the bowl. “Why didn’t you eat the meat?”

The cat shakes his head. Aaron bristles with unease. That is either a coincidence, or this cat is eerily intelligent. 

“No, you don’t eat meat?”

The cat tilts his head to the side, as if considering. Then he nods. Aaron points at him.

“That’s creepy as fuck.”

The cat mreooows in a disapproving tone. Aaron could convince himself he’s just projecting if not for the head movements. He’s heard stories of familiars before. The word is frequently thrown around by witches. Animals they have trained, or enhanced magically. Sometimes assistants, often just companions. It is an affectionate term commonly used nowadays, but as with so many things do, familiars have their history. Stories of special creatures who sought witches out, drawn by their magic, and formed strong connections. Aaron has never truly believed in these kinds of tales, but he’s also never been faced with an animal that responds to him the way this cat does.

He knows Neil fondly refers to his and Andrew’s cats as their familiars. Andrew has never echoed this sentiment, but he has never vocally disagreed either. Aaron cannot say with complete certainty that Andrew’s cats have never acted like this, as he does not spend large amounts of time with them, but they never have in any of the interactions Aaron has had with them.

“Are you a magic cat?” The words come out in a whisper. Aaron thinks this is from embarrassment. Even thinking such things is making him feel flush. The cat sits up straighter. He yowls. He nods his head enthusiastically. “Huh. Shit. Are you- uh. Did you come here for me?”

The cat quiets, but shakes his head. Right. Of course not. As if Aaron would summon a familiar. He’s not powerful enough for his magical energy to exude beyond his cottage, and he’s not interesting enough to be the kind of witch that has a familiar. He is just made for his quiet life where he keeps to himself and helps people without really getting involved.

“Right. Well. That’s okay. Good, even, because I’m really more of a dog person, so it wouldn’t have been the best match if you were.” Aaron stands. He lifts the two bowls. The cat waves a paw in the air, then pats his own chest. “You’re someone else’s familiar then. There’s a few witches round these parts. I’m sure it won’t be hard to find your way home.”

Aaron takes the bowls into the kitchen. He watches the cat out the window as he starts to wash up his dinner dishes. The cat has gotten down off the table by jumping on the chair, and is attempting to push that chair towards the cottage. He’s big enough that he seems to have the strength to do this, but the legs keep catching on the uneven ground. Aaron knocks his knuckles against the glass. 

“Stop that!”

The cat jolts in surprise. He hisses, back curving up, before pushing his body against the chair with such force that it starts to topple. The cat paws hard at the leg, bringing the chair back to earth. He looks at Aaron as if he should be helping. Aaron shakes his head. He’ll have to go move the chair back later.

Aaron is finishing up his dishes when the cat gets the chair close enough to use it as a step to reach the window. Ah. Clever little shit. This way he’ll be able to use it as a way to get down, since he doesn’t seem to want to jump down. Aaron wonders if his paws hurt, or his legs, something that is making him nervous about the landing. The cat settles himself on the windowsill, staring in at Aaron as he dries off his hands.

“Do you have an owner?” He realises that if the cat can somehow comprehend what he’s saying, he might be able to narrow down who he might belong to. The cat shakes his head. Aaron frowns. “But you’re lost.”

The cat nods confirmation. He lifts his paw to his chest again. Aaron does not know what that means. He sighs. Most likely the cat doesn’t understand him at all. Perhaps he’s just acting out old tricks someone taught him.

Aaron checks on his drying plants. He turns them over on his trays. From his cabinet, he gets a jar of salts with herbs mixed through it. A handful of this in the bath water will ease the tired ache of his muscles from an active day and encourage the healing of the cat claw scratches on his skin. As Aaron is filling his bath, he hears the cat yowling loudly outside. When he checks, the cat is still on the window, no evident reason for his distress. 

“Stop that. It’s annoying.”

The cat paws at the window. Aaron has it open a small crack to let fresh air in. The cat is trying to get a paw in and push it wider. 

“No. You’re not coming in here. I was good enough to feed you.”

Big green eyes lock on Aaron imploringly. Aaron flicks his fingers, nudging the cat with his power. Not enough to knock him off the windowsill, but enough to make him start. He growls at Aaron. Aaron closes the window. He comes very close to flipping the cat off, but reminds himself that he is, in fact, a cat. Aaron is many things, but he does not need to be someone who has a grudge against a cat. 

In the bath he can still hear muffled verbal protest, as well as claws scratching at the back door. It really sullies the relaxing atmosphere. Aaron slides down in the water until his ears are submerged, muffling and sounds of the world. He closes his eyes and sighs softly, feeling the ache in his muscles literally wash away. For as long as he is under the water, there is peace. 

The cat is still complaining by the time Aaron has gotten out of the bath, dried off, and redressed. 

“Can you stop that noise?” Aaron yanks the door open, glaring down at the cat. The cat immediately tries to spring past him into the house. Aaron stops him with his foot and nudges him back out. “No.”

The cat yowls in displeasure. He tries his luck again. Aaron blocks him. The cat looks up at him imploringly. 

“You can’t come in here.”

The cat meows and tilts his head, as if inquiring why not. 

“I have a lot of delicate things I don’t want you to knock over.”

The cat shakes his head.

“I don’t care if you think you won’t, I don’t want a cat in my house.”

The cat makes some truly pitiful sounds. His ears press flat against his head. His stare bores into Aaron, causing a strange stirring of guilt. Pushing that down, Aaron steps out and closes the cottage door behind him. He mixes the scraps from dinner in with the chicken’s food. The girls have already put themselves into the coop for the night, so Aaron closes the door and leaves them to settle. He pooters around the garden, doing small tasks. The cat pads after him, sticking close to his left ankle. He puts the chair back at the table, tucking it in. He strengthens the protective wards around his garden. He collects all the tools he used while gardening and puts them in the small wooden shed at the edge of his gardening patch. As he closes it up, the cat presses between his legs, rubbing against his calves, purring.

“I know you’re just trying to bribe your way into the house. It won’t work.”

*

It does work. As it turns out, enough imploring gazes and sad cat noises will get to Aaron. He caves, but with the condition that the cat be treated for fleas before he’s allowed into Aaron’s house. This is not as common a remedy as Aaron’s human ones, but he’s quick to whip it up. A mixture of rosemary, lavender, and lemon, boosted with a hint of magic. The cat hisses when Aaron starts to spray him with the mixture.

“Hey. You want in the house, this is the exchange. I am not dealing with fleas or ticks because of you, alright?”

The cat huffs, but he sits still and allows Aaron to thoroughly squirt him with the mixture, even rolling onto his back when it is time to have his underside done. Aaron gets clear confirmation that, yes, the cat is indeed male.

“Suppose I’d better give you a name if you’re going to be hanging around for a bit. Hm. How about Shadow?”

The cat grumbles disapprovingly. He shakes his head.

“What? You’re going to be picky about this? You’re a black cat. Shadow makes sense.”

Not-Shadow the cat hisses.

“Midnight? No? Jet? Obsidian? What, it’s a black rock. It repels negative energy. Fine, fuck, Cat it is then. I give up.”

Aaron has been spraying the cat in the garden to spare his floors. The cat puffs up his fur, shaking out the excess liquid of the spray, before running away from him. For a moment, Aaron thinks he is just going to leave. He is surprised to find himself disappointed. The disappointment is short-lived. The cat looks back and meows. He has not gone far, just to the edge of Aaron’s garden. As Aaron stands to follow, the cat starts dragging his claws through the dirt. 

Aaron stops once he is standing over the cat. He watches him scratch a word into the dirt.

“Kevin.” Aaron reads the rough, messily marked word. “Your name is Kevin?”

The cat, Kevin, nods.

“That’s a stupid name for a cat.” 

Kevin hisses. He bats at Aaron’s foot, but keeps his claws retracted. 

“Well, it is. Who the hell calls a cat Kevin?”

Kevin stares up at him, and even though there is very little ability to express emotion on a cat’s face, Aaron thinks he looks pissed off. He sighs.

“Alright, Kevin. Come on then.” Aaron bends down and picks Kevin up. Kevin jostles, but leans into Aaron’s chest when he’s lifted. “I don’t have a litter box, though. You better not shit in the house.”

Kevin meows. Aaron hopes that is in agreement. He carries Kevin into the cottage, rubbing off his paws with a cloth before he sets him on the ground.

“Please try not to knock anything down.”

Kevin stands by the door and looks around the cottage. Aaron watches him for a moment, then decides to give him some space. He takes off his shoes by the door and fills the kettle with hot water. Aaron is not fully pleased with the fact of a cat being inside his house. He really hopes Kevin doesn’t make a mess. After his initial period of looking around, Kevin dares to walk further into the room. Most of the space is dominated by the kitchen and huge fireplace Aaron works from. He doesn’t have a traditional cauldron as some witches might, as he’s often making several things at once, so the centre of the room is dominated by a series of pots and a small cauldron. However, there is a couch along the far wall. The last evening rays of sun are falling across it. Kevin jumps up and lies in the patch of sunlight, the orange catching in his fur and making him appear to glow. After Aaron pours himself a cup of peppermint tea, he sits beside Kevin. Kevin’s eyes flick up to him. Aaron holds out his hand. When Kevin doesn’t respond, he gently pets his fur.

This cat is not Aaron’s, and he has no desire for him to be, but he supposes the company is alright while he is here.

Chapter Text

Aaron stirs to something tickling his nose. He jolts awake with a hard sneeze. He can feel Kevin start beside him, hear his low grumbling of displeasure. Aaron glares his eyes open into slits.

“If your stupid tail wasn’t up my nose, I wouldn’t be sneezing.” He bats Kevin’s tail away. Kevin is sprawled out on the pillow beside Aaron. He was not there when Aaron went to sleep last night. Aaron doesn’t even know how he got up to his bedroom. He didn’t think cats could climb ladders. “I told you you’re not allowed up here.”

Kevin gives a lazy sounding meow, not even bothering to lift his head from the pillow. He curls his tail towards himself and closes his eyes.

“No,” Aaron says firmly. He throws the blankets off and grabs Kevin. Kevin hisses, lashing out at Aaron. Aaron drops him onto the bed with a hiss of his own when Kevin’s claw makes impact with his wrist. At first Aaron only feels the force of it. The solid thump of Kevin’s paw colliding with him, surprisingly powerful. The shock of that is short lived, and soon the sharp sting follows as fresh blood swells to the surface, rising swiftly from the shallow skin of his wrist. “Fuck.”

For a moment, Aaron’s senses are overrun with pain. His face scrunches up as he presses his palm against the wound, trying to slow the flow of blood. His palm slides, skin already slick. Aaron huffs as he opens his eyes. Kevin has pressed himself as flat down to the bed as he can get. His ears are plastered to his skull, his tail wrapped tightly to his side, his pupils expanded. Even as unfamiliar with cat body language as Aaron is, he knows what fear looks like. 

“Did I hurt you when I lifted you? I didn’t mean to.”

Kevin’s ears twitch, but don’t rise up. He gives a small shake to his head. He waves a paw with claws retracted towards Aaron’s wrist. 

“Did I just scare you by lifting you too fast? Is that why you lashed out? I don’t want to scare you, Kevin, but I did ask you to stay out of my bedroom.”

Kevin utters a miserable, lamenting yowl. Aaron sighs. This is what his life has come to. Not even a week and the cat is already invading his bed. He goes to run his wrist under water until the worst of the bleeding has eased up. Aaron is planning on going into town today. He doesn’t know if any of his magic will be requested. He doesn’t want to waste energy on himself just in case. He can always heal himself when he gets back if he’s feeling up to it. For now, he cleans off the cuts, applies some salve, and puts a dressing over the wound so he doesn’t irritate it by catching it against his clothes.

Kevin is skulking in the loft, body language still deflated. He stays close to the wall, emitting another sorrowful sound when Aaron comes out of the washroom.

“Don’t be such a drama queen. I’m the one bleeding and you’re acting hard done by.”

Kevin chitters, a sound Aaron was unaware cats could make. Kevin makes a lot of sounds Aaron was unaware cats could make. Cats actually have a great deal more to say than just meow. Aaron looks up at him. He wonders if Kevin is stuck, remembering the tree and how Kevin was afraid to jump down from the windowsill. He sighs. He climbs up the ladder and sits across from Kevin. He offers out his fingers. Kevin stares at him in a way that feels sorrowful. Aaron rubs his fingers together, making the universal pspsps cat summoning noise. Kevin inches forward. He touches Aaron’s knuckle with his nose. He gives his finger a tiny lick with his sandpaper tongue. Aaron scratches him lightly between the ears. Kevin puts his front paws on Aaron’s thigh, pushing up, looking into his eyes. Aaron sighs. He runs his finger over Kevin’s head. 

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.”

Kevin makes a low sound, stretching his neck out towards Aaron. Aaron leans closer. Kevin bumps his forehead clumsily to his cheek. Aaron leans briefly against Kevin’s head, before moving back.

“Do you need help getting down?”

Kevin gives a small nod. Slowly, he walks his way onto Aaron’s lap. 

“Can I lift you?”

Kevin leans his head against Aaron’s chest. Aaron takes that as a yes. He hugs Kevin to him as he climbs down the ladder one handed, crouching to spill him onto the floor. 

“But really, stay the fuck out of my room, or next time I’m leaving you up there.”

*

Sunlight dapples through the leafy canopy of the forest path as they make their way towards the village. Aaron is trailing a cart behind him. Kevin is sitting on it. Vials and jars of remedies rattle as Aaron pulls the cart along. He could get a horse. He has enough room to build a stable near the cottage, and if he puts his focus to earning the money, he could afford a horse. With a horse it would be much easier for Aaron to make the journey into the village during the winter months, but he thinks of the extra care required, the food and equipment, the time. He likes making the journey on foot. Perhaps as he gets older he’ll consider a horse, or if he ever has help.

Not that Aaron thinks that is a possibility. At this stage in his life, he is giving up on the idea of love. He supposes he is still young enough, in the grand scheme, but he also knows everyone who lives in the local area, and does not wish for a shared future with any of them. There had been a short relationship with the town doctor, but it had not worked out in the end. Katelyn saw their livelihoods as extremely compatible. She wanted to expand the doctor’s office so Aaron could offer his remedies and magical cures on site. Aaron had considered it. He adored Katelyn, and he wanted them to work out. He wanted so badly, but when he imagined being trapped in the centre of the village for the rest of his life, seeing the same faces day in and day out, deprived of the freedom he had on his own, he couldn’t go through with it. Katelyn saw his reluctance as a response to their relationship, when it had always just been to that lifestyle. They had drifted apart after that. 

Aaron had isolated badly the winter after they broke up. He exhausted himself encouraging his harvest to be rich, foraged the forest for the many edible plants he knew he could find, and built up stores so that he would not need to travel to the village. For months, he hunkered down alone, just him and his work and his chickens. He thought Andrew might be the first person to land at his door, but it had been Katelyn, bringing freshly baked goods after the winter festival.

“You didn’t come this year.” Her cheeks and nose were flushed from the cold. She had trekked through the snow, and it dusted her boots and cloak. “Is that because of me?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me, and it was your community first.”

“Aaron.” Katelyn sighed. She invited herself in. Aaron made tea as she cut cake, and the sound of conversation after so long of silence was jarring, but not unwelcome. They had not rekindled their relationship, but from the ashes had dug out the remaining tinder to build a new one as friends, reinforced with their history. Despite this, Aaron has never felt much up for risking his heart again. Better his quiet, peaceful life go undisturbed. He may not have all types of happiness, but he has plenty, and who is he to be so selfish as to ask for more?

Kevin yowls in protest when the cart wheel catches on a stone in the path before bumping over it. The vials clink and clatter together. Aaron looks back.

“You can walk if you don’t like it.”

Kevin stares back with his usual unwavering cat gaze. Aaron rolls his eyes. He keeps walking. The village is over an hour away on foot. A pleasant journey in the warmer months, but not so much when the colder weather comes in. Aaron tries to limit his visits then, and usually someone will bring him what he needs when they come to collect a batch of remedies. It is a small price for his peace and privacy. 

Aaron stops at Katelyn’s clinic first, so he can drop off some of the medicine to clear his cart. She spots him while he is arranging what is for her and comes out to greet him.

“Aaron,” she starts, voice bright, before she sees Kevin and lets out a squeal. The sound startles Kevin. “You got a cat!”

As Katelyn moves towards them, Kevin jolts off the cart and hides behind Aaron’s legs 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. You’re just so cute!”

“Kevin, be nice,” Aaron says. 

“His name is Kevin?” Katelyn looks delighted by this. “Whatever made you pick that name?”

“I didn’t. He told me. He’s not my cat. I was actually wondering if he’s gone missing from anyone in town.”

“He told you?”

“Yes. He’s very smart. He wrote it out in the dirt. I think he might be a familiar. Has anyone local lost one?”

“Hm. Not that I know of. No one has mentioned a missing cat, and he doesn’t look familiar. Ha! Familiar.” Katelyn has crouched down, her hand extended. Kevin slowly pokes his head around the side of Aaron’s leg and gives her fingers a sniff. Hesitantly, he steps close enough for Katelyn to scritch his head. “He is so adorable though. Look how fluffy, and what pretty green eyes. Are you going to keep him if you can’t find who owns him?”

“I don’t know.” Aaron’s response is non-committal. He has never wanted a cat. Andrew is the cat person between them. It is not that Aaron doesn’t like them, he has just never envisioned a cat in his life. 

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be easy to rehome if you can’t.”

Kevin emits a displeased mrow and tilts his head to look up at Aaron. Aaron frowns down at him. 

"Do you want to stay with Aaron, Kevin?”

Kevin’s flat stare returns to Katelyn. He does not shake or nod his head, though he does purr when she scratches under his chin. Aaron starts unloading remedies from his cart, taking them into the clinic as Katelyn fawns over Kevin. She is still cooing at him when Aaron comes out again.

“Sorry, I’ll help you with those now. He’s just hard to resist. Aren’t you, cutie?” Katelyn gives Kevin one last pet before she stands, rubbing her hands together to brush off the cat hairs. Her and Aaron catch up as they take the rest of his shipment into the clinic.

“How have you been?”

“Fine. You?”

“Good, good. Summer is quieter. Your allergy tincture worked great. Nothing but high praise. Are you doing okay out in the woods? You need anything?”

“Nah. I’ll pick a few things up today, but I’m alright.”

“What’s this?” Katelyn notices the bandage on Aaron’s wrist as he is setting down containers. They all have handwritten labels tied around them with a piece of twine, Aaron taking care to write as clearly as he could manage, so Katelyn will know what they’re all for and how to use them. Most of the containers make it back to him, so he can wash them out and reuse them. This is why the tags are detachable rather than labels that adhere to the bottles. 

“Hm? Ah, Kevin scratched me this morning.”

“Gosh, is it bad?” Katelyn takes his hand, turning it over and gently easing the edge of the gauze up so she can have a look.

“It’s okay. Stings. Wasn’t sure if anyone would want magic today, so I wanted to preserve my energy. I’ll heal it later.”

Katelyn gives a quiet hum. 

“I think I lifted him too fast. Startled him.” Aaron doesn’t know why he’s defending Kevin, but he’s not a bad cat, overall. He mostly just follows Aaron around. He’s quite talkative, which can be annoying sometimes, but Aaron’s getting used to his presence. 

“Maybe he’s not a pet cat then.”

“I don’t know. Like I said, I thought he might be someone’s familiar.” They head outside with some empty returned containers to store in Aaron’s cart. Kevin’s ears are flat, and he’s gazing up at Aaron with big eyes. Aaron wonders if he overheard their conversation. He gives Kevin a quick pet on the head. Kevin butts up against his hand, then presses himself between Aaron’s legs, rubbing up against them. 

“He seems to like you.”

“Mm. Sometimes.”

“Oh! By the way, Andrew left a letter for you.”

“Andrew left a letter here?”

“Well, Neil dropped it off, but I assume it’s from Andrew.” Katelyn runs back inside to retrieve the letter before delivering it to Aaron. He looks between her and the envelope, brow furrowed, before he opens it. It reads:

Something came up. Rain check on this month’s visit. A.

“He can’t make it to our usual visit, but he’s been completely vague on the details. Typical Andrew.” Aaron sighs. He carefully folds the note up and tucks it into one of his pockets. Katelyn gives his arm a soft squeeze of reassurance. 

“I have an appointment this afternoon so I can’t talk long now, but would you like to get dinner at the tavern before you head back?”

Aaron looks down at Kevin. He won’t be able to bring him into the tavern, and he’s worried if he leaves Kevin alone outside he might run off, but… Kevin’s not really his cat. He could run off at any moment anyway. This is just a fact.

“Sure.” 

Katelyn hugs Aaron, and he leans into her for a moment. She smells sharp and clean.  

“I’ll see you then.”

He heads for the general store next, to leave off the rest of his remedies. People can buy them there if the clinic is closed, though only Katelyn gets access to the strongest ones. Dylan helps Aaron carry them in and arrange them on the shelf, pausing to look at Kevin before they start. Aaron explains he’s trying to find his owner, but like Katelyn, Dylan has never seen him before. 

“Almost as cute as you,” he says, causing Aaron to flush. 

“Shut up.”

Kevin grumbles when Dylan comes near the cart, but falls quiet when Aaron scolds him. They are well compensated for their delivery, two crates of groceries and a handful of coins given in return. There’s jars of preserves, fresh milk and cuts of meat that Aaron enchants to stay cold until he gets home, dry ingredients for cooking with, and a couple of bars of chocolate. 

“To keep you sweet,” Dylan says as he slips them in. Aaron shoots him an annoyed look, but his ears darken. He has fruit, vegetables, and eggs at home, but Dylan supplies him with mostly anything else he could need, though he will stop at the bakery for fresh bread. “Did something happen?”

He takes Aaron’s arm in his grasp, fingers warm, ghosting over the bandage.

“The cat just scratched me. He was startled. It’s fine.”

“Well, it was nice to see you again, Aaron. Good luck with the cat.”

Kevin is sniffing around the crates Aaron has loaded into his cart. He gives Aaron what seems to be a disapproving side eye when he comes out of the store, but before the door closes, Kevin suddenly springs forward.

“No,” Aaron yells, but Kevin is too fast. He slips in, narrowly avoiding being caught in the door. Aaron rushes in after him. “Sorry, he got in before I could grab him.”

Kevin has situated himself below a table and is meowing loudly. Aaron scoops him up, annoyed enough he forgets about this morning. Thankfully Kevin doesn’t scratch him again, but he does stretch out his arm, pawing at the air insistently in the direction of a pineapple. He gets even more vocal as Aaron tries to carry him away. 

“Do you want this?” Dylan lifts the pineapple. Kevin looks at him and babbles meows. Laughing, Dylan holds out the pineapple to Aaron. “Can cats eat pineapple?"

“I don’t fucking know, he’s a weird cat.”

Kevin is purring contentedly now that Aaron has the pineapple in his hand, nuzzling his cheek to Aaron’s chest. He pauses when Dylan reaches out to pet his head, but picks it up again once he’s no longer touching him. 

“Enjoy your pineapple, little man.” 

“I’m not that little.”

“I- I was talking to the cat.”

“I know.” Aaron smirks, leaving Dylan flushed this time. He takes Kevin back outside and puts the pineapple in the cart. “Pineapple, really?”

Kevin purrs persistently. Setting him down, Aaron continues to the bakery. Miles is outside, washing the windows. It is not often Miles is at the bakery. His partner is the baker, but Miles’ parents own the ranch on the edge of the village. It is where Aaron got his chickens from. Usually Miles is helping out there. He drops his sponge into the bucket and dries his hands off on his trousers when he sees Aaron. Like everyone else, his attention is quickly drawn to Kevin, who he fusses over.

“Who is this sweet baby?”

“This is Kevin. He just showed up in my yard. I’m trying to find who he belongs to, but nobody recognises him.”

“Kevin? Aw man, I love when animals have human names. I've never seen him before, but he’s precious.”

Aaron sighs. He gently pets Kevin’s back as Miles ruffles the fur of his cheeks. Kevin grumbles at the attention. 

“Starting to think you didn’t come from the village.”

Kevin mrows in agreement. 

“Aw, I’m sorry you’re lost, Kevin. That must be so scary. Good thing you have Aaron to look after you.” Miles grins as Kevin gives a quiet chirp. “Are you gonna keep him?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Hm. We have the dog, but we could likely take him as well, if you decide not to.”

Kevin starts his yowling protest. Aaron also feels himself tense up, displeased someone is already making plans to take Kevin when he didn’t even say for sure that he’s not keeping him. Hm. Maybe subconsciously he does want to keep this new company around if he has nowhere else to go.

“I’ll think about it.”

Kevin’s back arches. He hisses at Aaron.

“Woah. I don’t think he likes that.”

“He just loves to complain.” Aaron pushes open the door and steps into the bakery, Miles trailing behind. It is his partner Finn who notices the bandage on Aaron’s wrist this time. Aaron brushes it off with the usual explanation. Miles chats at him as he browses the bakery selection, catching him up with village news from the past couple of weeks. Aaron gets fresh bread and some pastries. Finn boxes them up for him. 

“Thanks,” Aaron mouths to Finn as Miles continues talking. Finn gives him a brief smile in return. 

“Leah says there was someone new passing through a few weeks ago. Dressed in city clothes. He asked her about the tavern, but then he never showed up. That’s a shame. It’s been a while since there’s been new guests in town.”

“Where did he go if he didn’t stay?” There are no other taverns within walking distance from the village. 

“Don’t know. No one else saw him. Leah says he was tall, dark, and very handsome. Maybe he would have caught your eye.” Miles grins. Aaron rolls his eyes. He grabs his box of baked goods from the counter. 

“Unlikely.” He heads towards the door, cutting the conversation off, giving a nod to Finn as he goes. Miles follows him out to fuss over Kevin, who tugs his head away, sniffing at the box when Aaron sets it in the cart. 

“Later,” he says.

“Wait!” Miles runs into the building before returning, croissant in hand. “Can cats eat bread?”

“I don’t know, but Kevin is weird. He doesn’t eat what I think he should.”

Miles tries to offer Kevin the croissant. Kevin will take small bites of food from Aaron’s hand now, but he is not having this at all. He swipes a paw at the croissant, catching his claws in it and pulling it free from Miles. Aaron frowns as flaky pastry gets all over his cart. Kevin nibbles the point of the crescent, purring contentedly.

“Glad you like it,” Miles says, smiling brightly despite Kevin’s attitude. 

“Hey, Miles, you wouldn’t have any brushes at the ranch that would do for a cat? Kevin had a lot of brambles tangled in his fur. I’ve got all the branches out, but there’s some matting I couldn’t shift with my fingers.”

“Sure, we should have something. I’ll come with you. We can have a proper catch up.” Miles leans into the bakery. “Finn, I’m going with Aaron to get something from the ranch, I’ll be back in a bit. ‘Kay, love you!” 

Aaron would have been happy to call up himself and deal with Miles’ parents, but at least this will pass some time before he meets Katelyn. The steady purring continues as Kevin eats his way through the croissant, and Miles’ version of a proper catch up is his extended conversation while Aaron contributes little and rarely. It is not as though he deviates from his usual routine enough to have news beyond Keivn’s appearance.

“What about you?” Miles has been chattering away about his and Finn’s wedding plans. They’re getting married in the middle of autumn, and Aaron has not only been invited, but Miles has been low-key pressuring him into coming all year. Aaron had given in quite easy. He doesn’t love to be in the centre of people all the time, but he usually joins in with village festivals or celebrations to maintain rapport. Despite this, Miles asks every single time he visits if he’s still coming, wary of the answer. 

“What about me?”

“Is that something you would want?” 

Aaron tries to think which possible part of the wedding plans Miles could be asking his opinion on. When he doesn’t answer, Miles clarifies: “To get married.”

Aaron is silent a beat too long. He swallows. He looks away. 

“Not really.”

“Huh. You’re pretty independent, I guess. I don’t know that I’d be able to live alone like you do. I love having my people nearby.”

“It’s fine. I like the quiet.”

“Being with the right person can feel like your quiet, though. Like even when the world is buzzing, they steady everything.”

“I don’t need anyone else.” Aaron’s words are sharper than he intends. His face is hot. He wishes Miles would drop this. Miles must realise his misstep, for he falls quiet. For a few moments, the only sound between them is their feet falling against the ground, the turning of Aaron’s cart wheels. He glances back. Big green eyes gaze up at him, pastry flakes sticking to the fur around his mouth.

“Of course you don’t,” Miles finally says, voice soft. “It’s like I said. You’re so independent.”

 *

Aaron is too early to the tavern, even with taking his time back from the ranch. He considered calling by Fionn’s place down by the lake to pick up some fish for Kevin, but when he ran the idea by him, Kevin had complained loudly and shook his head. No fish or meat then. Aaron sits on one of the benches in town, glad for a break off his feet. Kevin springs up beside him. He looks around the streets, tail swishing. Slowly, Aaron reaches up to scratch him behind the ears.

Over the past week, he has learned the ways Kevin likes to be pet, and the many, many ways he does not. Light scritches over his head and behind his ears are acceptable. Kevin gives a low brrrt of a purr, looking up at Aaron. Despite everyone’s words, Aaron doesn’t really think he is a cute cat. Cute doesn’t feel like the correct word. When he is not getting stuck up trees or on windowsills, there is an elegance to him, and his green eyes are a gorgeous contrast to the shadow bulk of his body. 

“I think you’re more a pretty boy than cute,” Aaron says thoughtfully. Kevin’s purr peters off for a moment, before stirring to life again. He paws at Aaron’s arm. Aaron stops petting him. They sit in silence for a while, Aaron tipping his head back and closing his eyes, listening to the background noises of the village, quiet in the late afternoon. 

“Not falling asleep on me, I hope.” The sound of Katelyn's voice prompts Aaron to open his eyes. He gives her a sleepy smile. 

“There you are.” 

“Hungry?”

“Starving”

Aaron tucks his cart around the side of the tavern, trusting that no one will touch it. He clears a space in it that Kevin can lie down in.

“You have to stay out here until we’re done, okay? No cats allowed.” It is apparent that Kevin is displeased by this, and he is not shy about making that known. Aaron frowns, voice growing firm. “No, Kevin. There are some places cats can’t go. That’s just how it is.”

Kevin hisses, fur bristled, but he doesn’t follow as Aaron goes inside. Despite telling himself he won’t, Aaron steals one last glance back at him before he enters the tavern. Part of him wonders if Kevin will still be waiting for him when he comes out, or if, now free and on his own in the village, he might just slip off somewhere. Aaron hopes not. 

He and Katelyn catch up with Leah at the bar. The tavern is her parents’ business, but she’s been working the bar and helping with the general running of things for as long as Aaron has been here. They only move to a table when their meals are ready. It is a real treat to have food cooked by someone else for once, and now that they have gotten past the awkwardness of the break up, Katelyn’s company is as easy as ever. Conversation flows without effort, and there is no discomfort when the silence lingers. It is during one of these lulls that the caterwauling can be heard from outside. 

“Someone’s cat is really going at it,” Leah says, crossing to the window to look out for the source of the noise.

“That’s mine.” Aaron sighs. “Or, well, he’s not mine, but he’s with me.”

“Did you steal a cat?”

“What? No. I found him. Or, he came to me, really. I brought him in with me to see if anyone had lost him, but no one recognises him.”

“He all black?”

“Yeah. Do you know him?”

“No, but he’s trying to upend the mop bucket I left out to dry.”

“He probably wants to use it to jump up on the window. He’s scared of heights, I think? Or falling? He can get up places but isn’t good at getting down.” Aaron crosses to the window. He knocks the glass with his knuckles. Kevin jolts. He looks up. He yowls. Aaron shakes his head. He points back to the cart. Kevin bares his teeth. After a brief stare off, he slumps back towards the cart. 

“Woah. Did he just do what you told him?”

“He does sometimes. He’s super smart, just stubborn. I think he might be magic.”

“Might be able to sell him off to a witch if he is.”

“Mm. I don’t know.” Aaron feels worse about that thought than just giving Kevin to someone, which he has already been doubting. 

“I think you want to keep him,” Katelyn sing-songs, squeezing Aaron’s shoulders as she props her chin on his head to look out the window. She waves when Kevin turns to look back, tail swishing unhappily. 

“No. I don't know. I don’t want to get attached in case he belongs to someone else. I’ll wait and see. If no one shows up in a few weeks, maybe I’ll consider it.”

*

Aaron brings some leftovers out for Kevin as an apology. Leah’s served them in a small bowl for him. Kevin turns his head up at this offering, and he won’t look near Aaron at all when he comes out. Katelyn coos over him. When she holds her hand out, Kevin bares his teeth. Aaron lifts his hand, holding Kevin’s head in place with his magic.

“Don’t you dare.” 

Kevin casts him a brief side eye. He flicks his tongue out to give Katelyn’s knuckles soft kitten licks, which delights her.

“Oooh! So cute. If you do end up staying with Aaron, you’ll have to come visit me again, won’t you? We can have dinner at mine next time. You can come inside there.”

Kevin purrs at this, bumping his head against Katelyn’s hand. Scooping him into her arms, Katelyn gives him a brief cuddle. Kevin glances at Aaron again, and Aaron swears the way he suddenly starts nuzzling under Katelyn’s chin, rubbing his cheek over her chest, purring obnoxiously loud is all just to goad him. Stupid cat. Katelyn hugs Aaron and kisses his cheek sweetly afterwards.

“Look after yourself,” she says.

“You too.” 

There's a few beats where they just look at each other. This happens sometimes between them, these frozen moments. Aaron can’t speak for Katelyn, but he is envisioning the life they could have had. Where after a nice dinner they would go home together. Settle into their shared night time routine. Slip into bed, pressed close and warm, only to wake and spend another day with lives entangled tomorrow. Maybe he should have just gone along with Katelyn’s plans. Perhaps it would not be so bad to live here, if it were in good company, but it is too late now. Bittersweetness blossoms in Aaron’s chest. How lucky he is to still have Katelyn in his life. How much he grieves what could have been.

“Have a good night, Kate.”

“Safe home.”

Kevin has been silent during this exchange, eyes flicking between them. When Katelyn’s back turns, he looks at Aaron. Aaron glares at him, feeling exposed, as if someone has seen him in a moment of emotional vulnerability he didn’t want observed. He’s only a cat, but the way Kevin stares still makes him feel very perceived.

“What are you staring at?” 

Kevin meows.

“You were very badly behaved today. You won’t be coming into the village with me again.”

A much feistier meow. 

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up and eat your dinner before I take it away.”

Kevin turns his nose up, but once they’re on the road and Aaron’s focus is on pulling the cart, he hears him chewing. Aaron ducks his chin, his small smile hidden from Kevin’s intense gaze.

*

Aaron sighs as he sinks onto the couch. Kevin puffs up, annoyed Aaron is invading his space, as if this is not Aaron’s house. Aaron pays him little mind. The paper in his hand is creased with the original fold lines and some additional crinkles from being shoved in Aaron’s pocket. He opens it and reads the short message again. 

“I wonder what Andrew’s up to,” he says quietly. Kevin makes a soft sound, tilting his head. Aaron finally looks at him. “Andrew’s my brother. My twin. Usually we try to meet up at least once a month.”

Suddenly, all of Kevin’s hair goes on edge as if he has been shot through with lightning. He hisses viciously, clawing the letter from Aaron’s hands, near spitting in his rage. Surprise causes Aaron to jolt at first, his heartbeat racing, the outburst so unexpected. When he calms down, rage swiftly rushes in.

“No.” Aaron has never taken such a sharp, firm tone with Kevin, even when he scratched him. “Don’t do that.”

It is Kevin’s turn to freeze, wide eyes gazing up at Aaron. Aaron pulls his letter back. It has got caught on Kevin’s claws. The paper has torn. Aaron huffs. It is not like he has any real attachment to this letter. He is not going to keep such a simple message, and yet, it still irritates him that Kevin has damaged it. His feelings when it comes to his family are endlessly complicated, this misplaced attachment to a quick note a result of that. 

“You are so fucking rude. I keep excusing that, since you’re a cat, but if you’re so fucking smart you should know better. All I’ve done is try to help you and you’re such an ungrateful little shit.”

Kevin backs away from Aaron until he hits the arm of the couch. He must assess that this is not far enough, for a moment later he jumps down off the couch and retreats to the kitchen, pressing low against the cabinets and emitting high meows of distress. Aaron scrubs a hand over his face, guilt immediate. Kevin doesn’t know what he’s doing. Sure, he’s definitely got an attitude, but he is still an animal. He does not deserve this unkindness. 

“Kevin.” He softens his tone considerably. “Come back here.”

Kevin does not move. After giving him space for several minutes, Aaron hoists himself up and goes to the kitchen. Taking a seat on the floor across from Kevin, Aaron leans forward, trying to put himself as close to his height as he can.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”

Fur still bristled, Keivn stares back at him.

“It’s just… I don’t see my family very often. Nicky moved to the city, and the journey is too long to make regularly without a horse. Then Andrew and Neil live in the mountains-”

Kevin springs up from his crouched position and begins meowing urgently. Aaron looks around, wondering what has set him off. When he glances back, Kevin has moved beside him, still frantically meowing.

“What? Do you need to go pee?”

Kevin shakes his head.

“Then… I don’t know what you want.”

Despite this, Kevin persists in his meowing for another few minutes, until both of them get frustrated with the gap of communication. Kevin exhales sharply through his nose, tail swishing behind him. 

“It’s not my fault I don’t speak cat.”

With a haughty toss of his head, Kevin sweeps past Aaron and reclaims his spot on the couch, curling into a ball. Exhaling heavily through his nose, Aaron stands. He collects his letter. He folds it back up, Kevin’s ear twitching as he doesn’t look up, but is evidently listening. Aaron decides that is enough attempted cat communication for the night and takes himself to bed.

Chapter Text

The next evening, after Aaron has spritzed Kevin with his flea spray, he takes the brush and starts working the more stubborn tangles out of his fur as gently as he can. Gentleness is not an innate talent of his, but he tries his best, slipping his fingers beneath the brush and trying to hold the base of the hairs so it doesn’t hurt Kevin when they catch and yank. Still, the occasional displeased mrowww escapes him.

“Sorry. I’m trying to be as gentle as I can. Some of your fur is really tangled.”

At a particularly bad catch, Kevin hisses and jolts on Aaron's lap, but he doesn’t lash out at him. The scratch marks on his arm have faded to raw pink lines today. Kevin pressed his nose to them and looked up at Aaron with a mournful sound when he first set him in his lap. 

“You’re doing so good, Kevin. I know this isn’t fun, but that’s one whole side down. We just have to do the other now. Look how nice and silky your fur is. Does it feel better?”

Kevin chitters, standing to turn himself around. There had been a tension between them this morning, Kevin keeping his distance as Aaron went about his usual tasks. He had not come to eat anything for breakfast, but when Aaron cut up the pineapple Kevin sprang his general store heist for, he’d come sniffing. This seemed to be an adequate olive branch. 

“There,” Aaron says softly, starting to run the brush through Kevin’s fur again. “You’re going to be so handsome. Such a pretty kitty.”

Kevin purrs, his tail curling against Aaron’s wrist. Aaron smiles at him. They’re still developing trust, but they’re getting closer. This is not quite the furry companion Aaron had envisioned in his life, but maybe he could live with having a cat instead of a dog. 

*

In his second week, Kevin starts to settle more. He’s a contradictory creature. Loud mouthed and demanding one moment, only to be anxious and skittish the next. Aaron puts this down to being somewhere new, though it was very much Kevin’s demand that he get into the house. He spends large chunks of the day outside with Aaron as he’s working around the garden, which is good, for when Aaron had suggested the need of a litter box, Kevin had taken great offence. Sometimes he disappears into the trees, Aaron must assume away to do his business, for he’s never found any of it near the garden. 

Mostly Aaron leaves him be. He has his own routine, and Kevin will entertain himself, though they do spend the evenings together. At the start, Kevin had stayed at the far end of the couch. If he did come any closer, it was arms length, allowing Aaron to just barely pet him but little else. The dropping temperatures are coming on quick as summer fades, and on the cooler nights Kevin now presses right up against Aaron’s thigh or crawls into his lap. One of Aaron’s throw blankets has been brought out of storage for Kevin to sleep with.

“C’mon.” Aaron lifts the blanket. He’s reading, legs crossed, the blanket draped over his own lap. Kevin pounces into the space of his crossed legs, sending a brief jolt through Aaron. When he settles, Aaron tucks the blanket around him. Kevin purrs softly, headbutting Aaron’s stomach. He paws at Aaron’s hand that is not holding the book. Aaron pretends not to notice. Kevin paws more insistently. It gets harder for Aaron to hide his smile. An annoyed yowl prompts him to shift the book and look down. “Can I help you?”

Kevin looks at his hand. He paws it again.

“Do you want pet?”

Kevin nods. 

“You could have just asked.”

Baring his teeth, Kevin catches Aaron’s hand in them, but not hard enough to really be considered a bite. When Aaron arches a brow, Kevin releases him and gently licks the skin instead.

“Mhm. That’s what I thought.” Aaron waits for Kevin to settle back down before he starts to rub between his ears. The soft sound of Kevin’s purring accompanies the quiet pattering of rain outside, a lulling blend that has Aaron’s book growing heavy, his head lolling on his shoulders. Eventually he sets the book aside. He tells himself he’s just resting his eyes. Just for a few minutes.

He wakes in the middle of the night, slumped down on the couch, back aching from the position. Kevin is sprawled over his stomach, snoring surprisingly loud for such a small animal. This is not new to Aaron. He can often hear Kevin snoring from his loft. Groaning, Aaron shifts to sit up, his back giving a twinge. Kevin slides down against his thighs, starting to stir with a soft grumbling. Then he jolts awake all at once, startled, trying to spring back to the far side of the couch but getting caught in the blanket.

“Hey, woah, hey, it’s okay.” Kevin hisses. His claws are caught in the knitted material, and his panicked attempts to free himself are only twisting the blanket more around his front legs. “Kevin. It’s okay. Calm down. I’ll help.”

Big green eyes flick up to his face. He can see Kevin’s body moving with his rapid breaths. Upon seeing Aaron, he goes still. Aaron leans forward and carefully untangles the blanket from his front paws. “There, dumbass. You were just getting yourself more tangled.”

In a sudden, swift movement, Kevin springs forward. His paws are against Aaron’s chest as he presses his face to his neck. His body is trembling. Aaron runs his hands down Kevin’s sides, feeling the shaking of his body, before wrapping his arms around him and scooping him up. 

“Hey. It’s okay.” He’s still tired, the world dusted with the hazy residue of sleep. Kevin makes small chirping noises. Aaron turns his head, pressing a soft kiss between Kevin’s eyes. He smells like lemon, lavender, rosemary. Aaron spritzes him with the anti-flea mixture every evening when they come inside, just to be sure.  “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Sleepy and longing for his own bed, Aaron makes a snap decision. He slowly moves off the couch, keeping Kevin close as he does, cradling him against his body. Kevin lifts his head, alarmed. His claws catch on Aaron’s shirt, as if panicked he is going to be set down and left. 

“Shh, shh.” Aaron lifts the blanket. He wraps it around Kevin and cradles him in one arm. “You wanna come to bed tonight?”

Whiskers tickle his neck as Kevin nods. It’s harder to get up the ladder with Kevin than it was to get down, but Aaron ties the blanket into a makeshift carrier the way he has seen some people do with babies. Aaron doesn’t know if he tied his the right way, but it does the job, and they make it to the top without Kevin plummeting out. They end up in bed together, Kevin refusing to detach long enough for Aaron to get under the blankets alone.

“All I did was move you a tiny bit when I woke up. You’re being dramatic.” Kevin makes a tragic little noise that hurts Aaron’s heart. He sighs and kisses his head again. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Eventually, Kevin’s soft, distressed sounds ease off. He flops onto his side, back to Aaron’s chest. Aaron drapes an arm lightly around his middle. Stretching his head up, Kevin lightly headbutts the underside of Aaron’s chin. He gives a soft purr. Despite his tiredness, Aaron doesn’t fall asleep until he can hear Kevin’s snores. 

*

The crunching of Kevin biting into toast and the clucking of Aaron’s hens are the only sounds to permeate the morning air. He’s eating toast slathered in jam, but Kevin only likes the smallest amount of butter on his. Aaron holds the piece out for him to take bites from, a cup of water set beside his cup of tea. 

“I think we’ll do some foraging today,” Aaron says. Kevin looks up towards the sky; a dim, cloudy grey. 

“I don’t feel rain in the air. Not anytime soon. Those clouds are a ways off yet.”

Kevin makes a displeased sound.

“You don’t have to come.”

His displeased sound is more insistent at that. Aaron grins. They set out after breakfast, Aaron carrying his basket, Kevin trotting at his heels. 

“Mushrooms should be sprouting now. If we get enough, I’ll make mushroom soup tonight. Do you like mushrooms?”

Kevin meows in a way that is hard to interpret, but a head shake or hiss would have been an outright no, so Aaron takes that as acceptable. He leads Kevin to dark, damp patches of the forest he knows mushrooms sprout best in. It is not long before Aaron’s basket is half full. Mostly mushrooms, but a few other plants he has found along the way he can use in his remedies. 

“The blackberries will be ripe soon. Another couple of weeks, we’ll be able to make jams and pie. I’m not the best baker, but Nicky taught me a bit.” Aaron doesn’t know how much of his conversation Kevin can follow, but he finds himself speaking to him more and more often. Kevin gives a soft meow in response, sticking close to Aaron’s legs in the darker parts of the forest. They’ve been out for a good amount of time already. Aaron decides he will check two more spots he knows, then they will turn back. 

It is at the second of these locations that Kevin gives a bright meow. Aaron turns to see Kevin pawing at a mushroom. He looks up at Aaron, ears perked, clearly pleased with himself.

“Kevin, no!”

Kevin jumps at Aaron’s sudden raised voice. Aaron drops his basket and rushes forward. Kevin recoils, but doesn’t run. Aaron drops to his knees, feeling the damp of the earth soak through his trousers. 

“That’s poisonous! Did you eat any?”

Kevin shakes his head.

“You sure? Did it get on your paws? We need to get back and clean these. Don’t lick them.”

Kevin meows softly. He waves a paw in the direction of Aaron’s basket. Some of the mushrooms rolled out of it when he dropped it. 

“It’s fine. We can get more mushrooms, but if you had eaten that-” Aaron cuts off, his heart still thundering with panic. With a soft mew, Kevin licks the inside of Aaron’s wrist. Gently, Aaron scoops him up. He hugs Kevin close to his chest, burying his face in the fur of his back. “Okay. Let’s go home.”

Aaron collects his basket with one hand, scooping the safe mushrooms back into it. He hooks it on his elbow so he can carry Kevin back, brushing his fingers through his fur softly, a reassurance he’s okay. At the house, he puts Kevin in the bath tub and washes him. Kevin meows his indignation, but Aaron insists they have to get rid of any spores that may have potentially stuck to his fur. He takes the time to dry Kevin off as best he can before he scrubs himself clean. Kevin is napping on the couch, wrapped in Aaron’s throw blanket, when he is done in the bath.

“You scared me,” Aaron says softly, leaning down to kiss Kevin firmly on the head. “Don’t do that again.”

Kevin stirs, mewing softly, pressing his cold nose to the tip of Aaron’s.

Leaving Kevin in his cocoon, Aaron sees to his girls before he gets a start on dinner, washing and chopping some of their mushroom haul for the promised soup. He stores the rest for later. While the soup simmers, he checks on Kevin again, who licks his cheek when Aaron crouches down beside him. The rare sandpaper scratch of his tongue is becoming one of Aaron’s favourite sensations, filling his chest with warmth. He rubs one of Kevin’s paws, pushing his thumb between Kevin’s toe beans. Stretching his paw out, Kevin spreads his beans wide, then curls his toes around Aaron’s thumb. 

“Hey, Kev.” Aaron looks at Kevin’s little face. Kevin’s big green eyes gaze back at him. “No one has come looking for you, and no one in the village recognised you. I know it hasn’t been very long. Maybe someone will show up still, but if they don’t… Would you like to stay here with me?”

The meow Kevin gives in response sounds sorrowful. A low, extended sound. Aaron retracts his hand. 

“I mean, you don’t have to. You’re free to go whenever you want. Whatever.”

But Kevin gets up, shaking the blanket off. He steps forward from the couch, paws on Aaron’s shoulder, leaning weight into him. Aaron stands, catching Kevin in his arms, hugging him close as Kevin nuzzles beneath his jaw.

“Is that a yes?”

Kevin purrs softly. Aaron hides his smile against his fur.

*

As Aaron opens the back door, Kevin weaves between his legs and springs out. His breath fogs on the morning air. The cold nights have led to cool mornings. Dew on the grass and chill in the air. Kevin pads his way across to the chicken coop, standing on his hind legs to undo the latch. He has started trying to help Aaron however he can. This is limited, due to Kevin’s lack of opposable thumbs, but tasks like this he can manage. The girls are used to him now, are unconcerned as they walk out around him, clucking softly. Kevin lets them pass before he slips in to check the coop.

“Any eggs?” Aaron calls. Kevin meows the affirmative. As Aaron collects them, Kevin slips through the trees, his usual morning bathroom run. He reappears as Aaron is harvesting from the garden. He has been pumping magic into the soil and plants the past few weeks, causing greater and faster production than would naturally occur. They’re gaining a good store of food. They’ll take some of it into town to trade, but keep a fair amount themselves for the colder weather.

Kevin puts a paw on the watering can with a questioning meow. 

“Not today. There’s been enough rain, they don’t need it. See? The soil is still damp.” Aaron presses his fingers into the soil. Kevin mimics, pressing his paw down. He nods. He patters off to do a lap of the perimeter. Somehow, he seems capable of sensing magic, is able to pick up any weakness in Aaron’s wards. There must have been some weakness the day Kevin showed up, for Aaron has them set to discourage animals entering, and to warn him when they do. They did not warn him of Kevin’s arrival. As Kevin returns without raising any alarms, Aaron assumes his wards are all still in place. 

“I think we’ll light a nice fire and spend today mostly inside. We should make more medicines if we’re going into the village at the end of the week.”

Kevin bumps his head against Aaron’s knee, purring softly. Aaron pulls his gloves off and bends to scratch Kevin’s head lightly. 

When it comes to his remedies, there is not much Kevin can do to help. He can’t get the lids off the jars Aaron keeps his dried herbs in, he doesn’t know how to measure out the right amount, and honestly, Aaron can’t really risk getting cat hair into any of his mixtures. So while he works, Kevin usually finds somewhere to perch and watch, or he takes a cat nap. Today he sprawls on the couch, his gentle snoring a relaxing background sound as Aaron works, humming quietly to himself.

As much as he had never planned for a cat, never wanted one, he has grown glad of Kevin’s presence. He is a kind of company, though he doesn’t wear Aaron out the way most people do. Gently easing him off the couch when he’s done working, Aaron cradles Kevin in his arms and wakes him with soft kisses over his head and nose. Kevin stirs awake slowly, already purring automatically, headbutting Aaron’s cheek.

“Hey, you,” Aaron says sweetly, pressing his forehead to Kevin’s. Kevin mews. “You looked so cozy it made me sleepy. Shall we go to bed for a nap and then we’ll make some dinner?”

The enthusiastic chirp Aaron receives in response sounds like agreement to him. He hoists them both up to the loft. As he flops onto the bed, Kevin quickly bounces to his side, pressing his body up against Aaron’s. Aaron rolls towards him, arm around his fluffy middle, rubbing his stomach. Kevin’s ear twitches ticklishly against his nose. Aaron presses his face into the thick fur at the back of his neck and breathes him in, automatically relaxing.

Yeah. He’s pretty glad Kevin stumbled upon him.

*

“Hello, baby! He’s still with you then?” Katelyn crouches to fuss over Kevin, who allows it with surprisingly good grace. 

“Yeah. I think he's going to stick around for a while.” 

“I knew it!” Katelyn points at Aaron, before turning back to Kevin. “You look after Aaron for me, okay?”

Kevin meows in acquiescence, nodding.

“Aw! He looks so serious. Good boy, Kevin.”

After Aaron and Kevin have completed Aaron’s usual rounds of the village, they circle back to the doctor’s office. Katelyn lives above it, and her table is laden with a wide variety of food she has prepared for their dinner. Rich, aromatic dishes, heavily spiced with things Aaron would never think to cook with, recipes passed down from her mother. Katelyn has set Kevin up his own chair, but he insists on sitting on Aaron’s lap, nuzzling against his chest and purring loudly while watching Katelyn across the table. 

“I’m glad you’re keeping him. It’s clear how attached he is to you.”

“He’s just acting up. He’s not usually this clingy.” Aaron tears off a small piece of the flat style of bread Katelyn has made and scoops some of the richly fragrant curry onto it. He offers it to Kevin, who sniffs for a long time before giving a cautious lick.

“Should cats eat curry? There’s a lot of spices in there. I don’t know that they’re okay for cats to eat.”

“Kevin’s not a normal cat.”

Kevin scrunches his face up, tongue flicking out as if to try and get the flavour off of it. Aaron starts to move the curry laden bread away, assuming Kevin doesn’t like it, but Kevin paws at his arm until Aaron moves his hand closer again. He gives the curry another try. He can’t seem to decide if he likes it or not. Katelyn gets a small dish and makes Kevin up his own plate, separating out the different foods so he can try them individually from each other. This prompts Kevin off of Aaron’s lap, and he does take his place in the third chair.

“If you want any more of a certain one, we can do that,” Katelyn says sweetly, as if addressing another human guest in her house. Aaron appreciates that she not only doesn’t tease him over how he treats Kevin, but extends the same treatment, not the way one might typically approach a cat. Kevin gives her a brief nod, sniffing insistently over the dish before he starts taking little kitten licks of food. Now free from the huge pile of fur in his lap, Aaron can help himself with enthusiasm. 

“This is so good. You didn’t have to go to so much trouble though.”

“Ah. No trouble. I usually cook batches and eat leftovers for my lunch since I don’t always have much time to cook, so this will keep me fed for a while, and I’ve put some extra portions aside for you to take home as well.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to have something different. Kevin and I ate mushroom soup for half of last week. He wasn’t too sure about mushrooms at first, but seemed to enjoy the soup.”

Kevin lifts his head, meowing softly. He licks sauce from his mouth. Aaron rubs one of his ears fondly and he gives a pleased brrrrt sound.

As they eat, Katelyn catches Aaron up on the town gossip. Aaron has already heard most of this as he made his visits today. The biggest talk of the town currently is Miles and Finn’s upcoming wedding, bigger even than the autumn harvest festival. 

“You’re coming, right?”

“Yes. Why does everyone keep asking me that? I said I’m coming, I’ll be there.”

“Well, you can always come get ready here if you’d like. I know you probably don’t want to travel in your nice clothes. We could head down together.”

“Oh. I was going to get a room at the tavern.”

“Right. That’s- Yes.” Katelyn ducks her head, flustered. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“No, I know- I would like that, I just didn’t think… Yes. I’d like that.”

“Yes?”

“Yes “

“Excellent! It’ll be fun.”

“It will.” It doesn’t mean anything. They’re just going as friends. If anything, it will be nice to have someone to arrive with. Lifting his head, Kevin looks towards Aaron with a low, grumbling complaint. Aaron cleans the sauce from his mouth. 

“There. Better?”

Kevin blinks at him, unimpressed expression still in place, but to be fair, he always looks like that, so Aaron pays no mind. 

*

They go home that evening with full stomachs and a cart loaded with food. Aaron is tired after the journey back. He unpacks everything and fills the bath, soaking muscles weary from the journey. He leaves the door cracked in case Kevin needs anything. His little nose pokes in, body wriggling through the gap until it widens. Aaron sits up in the tub.

“What? You want something?”

Kevin meows sweetly. He shakes his head. He prowls around the washroom, inspecting. Just in for a nosey then. Aaron sinks back into the water. Kevin puts his paws on the side of the tub, looking in at him. Aaron flicks water in his face. Kevin hisses and drops down, retreating back to the main room as Aaron laughs.

Aaron lies sleepily on the couch, Kevin is draped around his shoulders, cheek pressed to Aaron’s. He has taken to joining Aaron whenever he’s reading. At first, Aaron thought he was just pawing at the pages without reason; curiosity or annoyance. Now he’s quite sure Kevin is actually reading along with him. That he pats the page to let Aaron know he’s finished and ready for it to turn. Aaron waits for the paw when he’s finished reading, just in case. When Kevin taps before Aaron’s done, he rubs him between the ears as he finishes reading the last of the page. 

Aaron finishes his latest page and waits, but no paw waves to encourage him on. Where Kevin is situated near his ear, he can hear his breathing start to deepen. Aaron nuzzles his cheek against his head.

“Hey, sleepyhead. You had a big day today. Ready for bed?”

A soft mew. Aaron’s heart flutters. He loves his girls, but there is something different about an animal that he lives so closely with. A stronger kind of bond. He gently eases Kevin off his shoulder and onto his chest, cradling him close and peppering his head with kisses. Kevin purrs lazily, stretching his front legs, toes flexing and claws popping out briefly. 

“You are so cute,” Aaron whispers. Kevin blindly bumps his head to Aaron’s jaw. Laughing, Aaron rolls off the couch, keeping Kevin close as he hauls them both up to bed.

*

Aaron sits his basket by the back door and goes to wash his hands. They’re stained dark red with blackberry juice after a morning of picking the fruit. Kevin goes to let the girls out, waiting by the back door for Aaron to let him in once he has dried off his hands.

“Good boy.” Aaron scratches the top of his head. Kevin gives his pleased brrrrt, pressing his body up against Aaron’s legs. He cleans his paws off on the mat like Aaron has taught him. It really is getting cold now. Aaron has started adding layers, and he often looks at Kevin and wonders if he’s warm enough. At least Kevin has thick, fluffy fur to keep him warm. “I think we deserve some lunch after that.”

They eat inside, Aaron in view of the window so he can keep an eye on his girls. He has made them sandwiches. His is thick with salad, cheese, smoky meat. Kevin’s is lacking the meat and tomatoes, which Aaron has learned he doesn’t like, cheese sliced very thin. He’s cut Kevin’s into small squares so it is easier for him to eat them. Kevin seems to especially love the crunchiness of fresh lettuce. Aaron enjoys watching the way he tilts his head to crunch down on it. 

After lunch, he washes the blackberries and leaves them by the kitchen window to dry. He got what he needed to make pie crust the last time they were in the village. Getting out his ingredients, Aaron starts the process. When Kevin meows inquisitively, Aaron pulls the chair over from the table so Kevin can sit on it and watch what he’s doing. He talks through the steps as he goes, and Kevin cranes his neck, watching closely. 

“Maybe I’ll make a pie for the autumn harvest festival. I usually just make something savoury from my vegetable harvest, but we could bring dessert this year as well.”

Kevin mews.

“Yes, we. I mean, if you’re still here by then. You wanna come too, right?”

Kevin meows loudly, nodding. Aaron grins. He smooths his fingers over Kevin’s head, forgetting there’s flour on them, and laughs at the white strip it leaves. Kevin huffs, pawing at his head, but Aaron has learned how his body reads when he’s unhappy. He’s just acting up. 

“Alright, alright, stay still. I’ll clean it off.”

Aaron washes his hands. He keeps his thumb damp and gently wipes flour from Kevin’s head. Kevin watches his face as he does, then leans forward and presses his nose to Aaron’s.

*

The rain lashes down hard and fast, drumming against the roof and leaving streaks on the window. Above, the sky is dark and heavy, a deep grey that little light has managed to fight through. Aaron wonders where Andrew is. He wonders if he’s back yet. There’s still a couple of months before the risk of snow becomes a real threat, but the mountain pathways can be quite impassable after a snowstorm. Aaron hopes Andrew returns before then.

“I think it’s going to be a quiet day for us today, Kev.”

Kevin hops up onto the countertop beside Aaron. He gets his front legs up, but his back feet slide. Aaron catches him before he can fall, lifting him instead, as he doesn’t love Kevin climbing on his countertops. He tucks an arm under Kevin to support him as they both watch the rain falling against the window. “Wind is picking up. Think we’ll just be lazy. Rest up now, because there will be a lot of branches and leaves to clear after this.”

Kevin purrs, butting his head up against the underside of Aaron’s chin. 

It is two days before the rain stops. Kevin is going stir crazy in the house, but he doesn’t like going out for more than a few minutes in the rain either. Aaron has to brave it to check on the girls, but mostly he and Kevin stay inside, building up their supply of medicine for their next trip into town, making jam from the leftover blackberries, finishing off the book they’ve been reading, and napping together on the couch. Aaron marks his calendar off the day the rain stops, as he does every morning.

“Huh. Near four weeks you’ve been with me now. Feels longer.”

Kevin weaves around Aaron’s legs, meowing demandingly to be let out. While he has gotten far more comfortable and affectionate, he has never lost his attitude. Aaron opens the door for him. The garden is a mess of strewn leaves and branches. Aaron sighs. He has a busy day ahead of him. He puts on his boots. He gets to work.

By the time he finally collapses into bed that night, Aaron is exhausted. With meal breaks and fixing part of the fence around his garden that had gotten damaged in the storm, the clean up took all day. Then he had to wash Kevin and brush his fur out again as he had gotten so muddy, before he could even think about cleaning himself. Aaron’s body is humming with the satisfying ache of doing worthwhile physical labour all day. While he is utterly fucked, Kevin is freshly energised after his bath, pawing at Aaron to try and get him to play. Well, it is not like Kevin was hard at work all day. His assistance limited to moving only the smaller branches he could lift with his mouth. 

Sliding his hand up and down the bed, Aaron lets Kevin chase after it. He pounces and grabs with his paws, keeping his claws retracted, but occasionally brings out his teeth to nibble around Aaron’s knuckles. Aaron bounces his arm until Kevin drops away, and the chase begins again. It’s only when Aaron’s eyes grow heavy and his arm droops towards the bed like a wilting plant that Kevin stops jumping on it. Mewing softly, he closes the gap between them, licking Aaron’s cheek. 

“Sorry.” Aaron yawns widely. “I’m just so tired tonight.”

Kevin meows again. He climbs on top of Aaron, and the weight of him pressing through the small surface area of each foot as he steps over Aaron’s ribs and chest makes him wince. It’s better when Kevin lies down, his weight evenly contributed, a comforting weight on Aaron’s chest. Aaron tilts his chin down so he can kiss Kevin’s nose, drawing a loud, content purr in response.

“Night, Kev.” He trails his fingers through Kevin’s fur, soothed by the softness, grounded by the solidness of him, before he swiftly is taken by sleep.