Rating: Teen (just to be sure) Tags: Fairy tale fare, animal transformation, Damsel in Distress!Bertie, Knight!Jeeves, Adventure, Quest Words: circa 1,552 A/N: My first J&W fic! I hope you like the start of this fill Anon =^_^=
☆☆☆
Once Upon A Time a dashing Prince was enjoying a cuppa when his blasted Aunt blew in a blustering gale of rage.
Said Aunt was none other than my wicked witch Aunt Agatha. Now, don't think I am throwing about insults or unjust accusations. Aunt Agatha is really a witch and a bad one at that - no granting of three wishes or brewing healing potions! Oh no, A.A. was a true capital letters witch of the order: Wicked Witch of Weeping Willows.
Normally she lurked in her domain among her cavern of Willow trees, all gloomy and weeping; I should imagine from having my Aunt living under their branches.
Unfortunately, this morning, the Wicked Witch of the W.W, descended upon her innocent nephew as he relished a proper brew of tea.
I heard her spluttering about marriage even as she approached in a forceful gale of luminescent green smoke, (jolly impressive and terrifying I must admit), I did what any besieged nephew would do: I fled.
Alas, A.A. glimpsed my rather perfect purple shoes as I darted away, tea spilling as I went. Even angrier my Aunt actually transformed me into a cat!
I say, surely an overreaction, right?
Have you ever been turned into a feline? Well, it’s painful I must say - wouldn't recommend.
My bones cracked, my body shrank then elongated, a hot burning itch tickled its path up my spine as abruptly I gained flexibility in only the way a cat could possess. The sprouting of ginger fur made me yelp. At least it was a pleasant tickling feeling.
This was followed by the most dreadful sensation at the base of my spine, similar to the time where one of my woollen tunics scratched me most awfully, leaving a raw painful rash for days.
I twisted around to see what the fuss was and lo and behold a tail! Quite a fetching one in my mind.
It was all over in a jiffy and yours truly was now a domesticated cat, (or as domesticated as any cat can be).
Standing tall and rather frightening what with the violet hue to her eyes and the terrible grim reminiscent of a hungry werewolf, the Wicked Witch of the W.W. cackled. A bit stereotypical if you ask me, but even I was wise enough not to say that thought aloud.
“Now Bertie you shall remain so until I find you a suitable wife!”
Her triumphant grin accompanied by another cackle was intimidating and awfully ominous. Let it not be said that one fine feline prince was stupid, (or overly so at any rate), so I utilised some fancy feline footwork.
In a jiffy I sprang past her and landed magnificently on the window ledge of the window overlooking the front garden. Squeezing my way through the gap I landed with a slight merowl on the perfectly manicured grass. Seems like this cat thing was hit and miss, but I was determined to do better - once I was clear of wicked aunts and even more worryingly, prospective brides.
Without further ado I sped off relishing the speed. Aunt Agatha’s screeches were quite abrasive to my newly sensitive hearing, but fortunately after a while they faded to nothing as I entered the nearby forest.
Once beyond two gigantic oaks, very handsome and regal in their appearance, I paused. My triangular ears twitched, but picked up no tell-tale noise of angry witches, either stomping after errant nephews or popping into reality nearby. My delicate nose sniffed the air and no scent of smoke - the smoke of too many hideous experiments gone wrong - marred by nostrils. My paws could feel no vibration from the footfall of the Wicked Witch of the Weeping Willows so I finally relaxed.
Gazing about I saw that I had come deeper into the forest than I realised. The trees were all tall and ancient, the wonderful scent of green foliage and the lives of many animals wafted to my nose. Due to some sort of kitty memory I knew what they meant, which was rather wonderful. Mice and rats scampering amid the trees while birds flapped through the trees.
Foxes and wolves - oh I say, I best move on!
So I padded on, cheerful that my whiskers were able to dictate which gaps I could pass through. The sun cast a dappled light down here, the green and silver leaves like a fisherman’s net through which the sunlight had to pass.
I had fun glancing back at my tail as I padded along for it was ginger and white and fluffy. It flicked in surprise when I envisioned a brilliant blue bird calling to a beautiful emerald lady species. It went straight up and bristling when I smelled a wolf close. At that point you can safe to deduce I clambered up a tree faster than I believed possible and without thinking.
Exhilarating if scary.
Once the tall grey wolf strolled by, clever eyes considering all sorts of philosophical matters I should guess, I somehow got down with a bump.
Embarrassed I licked my fur and put on a big show of Not Caring a Jot, for whatever audience I might have in this terribly occupied forest.
As I was ordering my tail - removing a particularly friendly leaf - I heard the step of a horse and man. More, the distinct taint of steel. A Knight! Hopeful, I crouched and waited.
Can I tell you that I always thought those tales of Love at First Sight were rubbish? Well, I was wrong. Into my world stepped a most magnificent fellow. Tall and regal this Knight led his white charger as they walked through the sylvan gloom.
I flexed my claws and inhaled. Ah, his scent was masculine and earthy, the sweet bloom of flowers gracing him. This Knight clearly cared for his body. His helmet was off and attached to the saddle. His dark hair was swept back and groomed, while his face was clean-shaven with an aristocratic nose.
Yet most of all he was one of those bally folks you can literally smell and see kindness rolling off them. Here was a K. who just promised he was a good chap. So, while I was enjoying my stint as a cat, I decided to try my luck and see if this Sir Kind Knight would help a stray kitty.
Rising I meowed loudly and trotted over. Sir Kind K. halted and smiled, his dark eyes brimming with warmth.
“What have we here?”
I meowed and rubbed against his legs though the metal greaves weren’t the most comfortable.
Mr Knight removed his gloves and crouched to pet me. His large warm hands were gentle and affectionate, his voice full of tenderness.
“Sir Cat, may I ask where you have travelled from? Such a delicate feline ought not be wandering by themselves in this perilous forest.”
Arching my back under those miraculous hands I paused to gaze into those dark eyes full of curiosity.
“Well, my Aunt Agatha - a frightful woman Sir Knight - transformed me into a cat! She’s the Wicked Witch of Weeping Willows and feels her nephew - and nephews in general - should be married. I say, dreadful right?”
Astonishment flickered on the Knight’s face, but then he spoke calmly. “I have heard many tales of this Witch and indeed Sir Cat, I have faced her twisted minions.”
He scrutinised me carefully. “I see you bear her mark.” A careful finger touched my forehead.
“A patch of brown fur resembling a willow Sir Cat,” he explained. “Since that is the case Sir Cat I am beholden to help you. Come, we must undertake a journey to find a cure and face your Aunt.”
Face old A.A. the Wicked Witch of W.W? That made the old belly flop, but I meowed as bravely as I could, with only a slight tremble. I was happy however when Sir Knight lifted me up and onto his horse. He fashioned a little holdall for me from red blankets and there I curled up, still viewing the world.
“Sir Cat, what is your name if I may inquire? I am Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots - a land devoted to rope and net making as well as the weaving of garments in general.”
I best not mention I was a prince quite yet. Didn’t want the chap not to fall in love, because of rank. (If I was lucky enough to snare him!). “Bertie will do, Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots. A noble of some standing. I am grateful for your assistance and hope to celebrate our union after all this.”
I yelped at the realisation at what I said, though apart from a trembling of lips and a lifted brow the Knight was kind enough not to comment on my faux pas. Instead he recommenced his journey, now with one feline and former human in tow. I focused on settling down in my fortress, grateful the kindly knight had lived up to my wishes.
I must brag that I certainly chose the right chap!
Feline Frolics – A Bertie & Jeeves Fairy-tale PART ONE
Tags: Fairy tale fare, animal transformation, Damsel in Distress!Bertie, Knight!Jeeves, Adventure, Quest
Words: circa 1,552
A/N: My first J&W fic! I hope you like the start of this fill Anon =^_^=
Once Upon A Time a dashing Prince was enjoying a cuppa when his blasted Aunt blew in a blustering gale of rage.
Said Aunt was none other than my wicked witch Aunt Agatha. Now, don't think I am throwing about insults or unjust accusations. Aunt Agatha is really a witch and a bad one at that - no granting of three wishes or brewing healing potions! Oh no, A.A. was a true capital letters witch of the order: Wicked Witch of Weeping Willows.
Normally she lurked in her domain among her cavern of Willow trees, all gloomy and weeping; I should imagine from having my Aunt living under their branches.
Unfortunately, this morning, the Wicked Witch of the W.W, descended upon her innocent nephew as he relished a proper brew of tea.
I heard her spluttering about marriage even as she approached in a forceful gale of luminescent green smoke, (jolly impressive and terrifying I must admit), I did what any besieged nephew would do: I fled.
Alas, A.A. glimpsed my rather perfect purple shoes as I darted away, tea spilling as I went. Even angrier my Aunt actually transformed me into a cat!
I say, surely an overreaction, right?
Have you ever been turned into a feline? Well, it’s painful I must say - wouldn't recommend.
My bones cracked, my body shrank then elongated, a hot burning itch tickled its path up my spine as abruptly I gained flexibility in only the way a cat could possess. The sprouting of ginger fur made me yelp. At least it was a pleasant tickling feeling.
This was followed by the most dreadful sensation at the base of my spine, similar to the time where one of my woollen tunics scratched me most awfully, leaving a raw painful rash for days.
I twisted around to see what the fuss was and lo and behold a tail! Quite a fetching one in my mind.
It was all over in a jiffy and yours truly was now a domesticated cat, (or as domesticated as any cat can be).
Standing tall and rather frightening what with the violet hue to her eyes and the terrible grim reminiscent of a hungry werewolf, the Wicked Witch of the W.W. cackled. A bit stereotypical if you ask me, but even I was wise enough not to say that thought aloud.
“Now Bertie you shall remain so until I find you a suitable wife!”
Her triumphant grin accompanied by another cackle was intimidating and awfully ominous. Let it not be said that one fine feline prince was stupid, (or overly so at any rate), so I utilised some fancy feline footwork.
In a jiffy I sprang past her and landed magnificently on the window ledge of the window overlooking the front garden. Squeezing my way through the gap I landed with a slight merowl on the perfectly manicured grass. Seems like this cat thing was hit and miss, but I was determined to do better - once I was clear of wicked aunts and even more worryingly, prospective brides.
Without further ado I sped off relishing the speed. Aunt Agatha’s screeches were quite abrasive to my newly sensitive hearing, but fortunately after a while they faded to nothing as I entered the nearby forest.
Once beyond two gigantic oaks, very handsome and regal in their appearance, I paused. My triangular ears twitched, but picked up no tell-tale noise of angry witches, either stomping after errant nephews or popping into reality nearby. My delicate nose sniffed the air and no scent of smoke - the smoke of too many hideous experiments gone wrong - marred by nostrils. My paws could feel no vibration from the footfall of the Wicked Witch of the Weeping Willows so I finally relaxed.
Gazing about I saw that I had come deeper into the forest than I realised. The trees were all tall and ancient, the wonderful scent of green foliage and the lives of many animals wafted to my nose. Due to some sort of kitty memory I knew what they meant, which was rather wonderful. Mice and rats scampering amid the trees while birds flapped through the trees.
Foxes and wolves - oh I say, I best move on!
So I padded on, cheerful that my whiskers were able to dictate which gaps I could pass through. The sun cast a dappled light down here, the green and silver leaves like a fisherman’s net through which the sunlight had to pass.
I had fun glancing back at my tail as I padded along for it was ginger and white and fluffy. It flicked in surprise when I envisioned a brilliant blue bird calling to a beautiful emerald lady species. It went straight up and bristling when I smelled a wolf close. At that point you can safe to deduce I clambered up a tree faster than I believed possible and without thinking.
Exhilarating if scary.
Once the tall grey wolf strolled by, clever eyes considering all sorts of philosophical matters I should guess, I somehow got down with a bump.
Embarrassed I licked my fur and put on a big show of Not Caring a Jot, for whatever audience I might have in this terribly occupied forest.
As I was ordering my tail - removing a particularly friendly leaf - I heard the step of a horse and man. More, the distinct taint of steel. A Knight! Hopeful, I crouched and waited.
Can I tell you that I always thought those tales of Love at First Sight were rubbish? Well, I was wrong. Into my world stepped a most magnificent fellow. Tall and regal this Knight led his white charger as they walked through the sylvan gloom.
I flexed my claws and inhaled. Ah, his scent was masculine and earthy, the sweet bloom of flowers gracing him. This Knight clearly cared for his body. His helmet was off and attached to the saddle. His dark hair was swept back and groomed, while his face was clean-shaven with an aristocratic nose.
Yet most of all he was one of those bally folks you can literally smell and see kindness rolling off them. Here was a K. who just promised he was a good chap. So, while I was enjoying my stint as a cat, I decided to try my luck and see if this Sir Kind Knight would help a stray kitty.
Rising I meowed loudly and trotted over. Sir Kind K. halted and smiled, his dark eyes brimming with warmth.
“What have we here?”
I meowed and rubbed against his legs though the metal greaves weren’t the most comfortable.
Mr Knight removed his gloves and crouched to pet me. His large warm hands were gentle and affectionate, his voice full of tenderness.
“Sir Cat, may I ask where you have travelled from? Such a delicate feline ought not be wandering by themselves in this perilous forest.”
Arching my back under those miraculous hands I paused to gaze into those dark eyes full of curiosity.
“Well, my Aunt Agatha - a frightful woman Sir Knight - transformed me into a cat! She’s the Wicked Witch of Weeping Willows and feels her nephew - and nephews in general - should be married. I say, dreadful right?”
Astonishment flickered on the Knight’s face, but then he spoke calmly. “I have heard many tales of this Witch and indeed Sir Cat, I have faced her twisted minions.”
He scrutinised me carefully. “I see you bear her mark.” A careful finger touched my forehead.
“A patch of brown fur resembling a willow Sir Cat,” he explained. “Since that is the case Sir Cat I am beholden to help you. Come, we must undertake a journey to find a cure and face your Aunt.”
Face old A.A. the Wicked Witch of W.W? That made the old belly flop, but I meowed as bravely as I could, with only a slight tremble. I was happy however when Sir Knight lifted me up and onto his horse. He fashioned a little holdall for me from red blankets and there I curled up, still viewing the world.
“Sir Cat, what is your name if I may inquire? I am Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots - a land devoted to rope and net making as well as the weaving of garments in general.”
I best not mention I was a prince quite yet. Didn’t want the chap not to fall in love, because of rank. (If I was lucky enough to snare him!). “Bertie will do, Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots. A noble of some standing. I am grateful for your assistance and hope to celebrate our union after all this.”
I yelped at the realisation at what I said, though apart from a trembling of lips and a lifted brow the Knight was kind enough not to comment on my faux pas. Instead he recommenced his journey, now with one feline and former human in tow. I focused on settling down in my fortress, grateful the kindly knight had lived up to my wishes.
I must brag that I certainly chose the right chap!