Give Satisfaction

Rating: Teen (just to be sure)
Tags: Fairy tale fare, animal transformation, Damsel in Distress!Bertie, Knight!Jeeves, Adventure, Quest
Words: circa 3,751

A/N: Here lies unveiled Part 3 of our Fairy-tale Adventure! Love confessions, a Maiden Marvellous and Fair and Bertie coming clean. I say, what a crowded part! Grab a drink and settle down for after this, we draw near to the final instalment!

Just to note that this is a mythical Britain, blending a bit of history with a fairy tale mythical Britain.

Part Four will be up either tomorrow or the next day depending on formatting issues (yay! And nay!). Also, Feline Frolics will be uploaded to A03 so you can read either on dreamwidth or over there. =^_^=

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Feline Frolics Part 3 – Maiden Marvellous

We soon left the valleys behind us and descended down onto a flat plain of land. Well, sort of flat. The earth did dip and roll most pleasantly, forming a smashing series of fair fields. Unfortunately, so far said F.F. lacked any fair maidens with a convenient bag of spells and what-nots.

Jeeves however remained upbeat and would most kindly point out interesting landmarks and explain simply yet seriously their significance. I say, I wish my teachers had been half as splendid as my Knight of Kindly Knots. Though, admittedly, it was his dashed voice that had me more spellbound than my ghastly Aunt Agatha’s sorcery.

His noggin was a fine one and when we paused three days out from our meeting with Sir Meirion, our spiffing Scarlet Serpent, I elected to try my paws at fishing. Partly to fuel that magnificent brain of his and partly to sneak my way into his good graces.

A girl I know – a soppy lady by the name of Madeline Bassett, who has a dreadful tendency to threaten marriage whenever she is on shaky grounds with her fellow of choice, Gussie, (and what a fright that gives me, for my honour will not allow me to escape easily!) – always muttered that food was the way to a man’s heart.

I do relish a good supper so perhaps my Jeeves will also fancy a meal caught by this feline. Admittedly, Sir K, it not quite “my Jeeves” yet, but what else is a besotted F. to do?

Naturally you are thinking, but what about the Rabbit Incident? And yes, it is deserving of a capital “R” and “I”. Never fear though! I have been practising while my erstwhile defender has been sleeping. Goes against the Bertie grain – as well as the feline one – to miss sleep, but I do wish to show my hard working Knight that this is one Prince who will not rest on his laurels and is worthy of such a splendid specimen of manhood.

Providing for my Knight is vital. Hence, my practice.

Any meow, I was quietly confident so when we paused by the little brook crisscrossing two fields I knew my time had come.

The most beautiful fish were darting through the clear waters: silvery streaks as well as bright splashes of crimson and pink.

“Bertie,” said Jeeves with a slight blush at using my first name, “should you be so close to the water?”

I fluffed up my fur and flicked my ears. “Meow! Of course Jeeves, why not? I have been practising.”

Jeeves blinked in surprise as he finished removing Alys’ tack. Our steed tossed her head and went further upstream to drink. I’m certain she was helping me so I meowed my thanks and received a gentle whinny in return.

A splash as a fish leapt over the small dip in the brook where it formed a tiny cascade of water over glistening rocks into the lower bed seized my attention. It was time to hunt and prove I could provide for Sir Jeeves of K.K.

My bally nerves started up, but I pushed them away and jumped down the side of the bank to the soft soil right next to the bed of the brook. I crouched, watching. My fluffy ginger tail flicked slightly. I could hear the F. swimming through the waters, feel the squishy softness of the muddy bank under my paws, (which would require some cleaning off my paws and belly), and there was more…the scent of moss and the strange vibrant and crowded fragrance of the plants living underwater.

Insects and spiders ghosted across the surface, from algae or on the breeze from watercress clump to watercress patch. Thin white strands covered the plants as the spiders travelled along them as quickly as Madeline Bassett contemplating marriage to Gussie, to wavering towards me when the fellow does something dashed stupid.

Shuddering at the similarity I turned my feline fancy back to the matter at paw and contemplated the fast running brook.

There!

I leapt in one graceful motion and lashed out with my paw. A silvery fish shot up in the air and in a flash my jaws closed about the wriggly body. In a jiffy I was back on the shore and had clambered back up the bank to Jeeves who wore a most flummoxed expression.

Then it transformed into one of wonder and delight.

“Well done Bertie! That was magnificent! A true display of feline fortitude and skill.”

Well, I tell you, that did me the world of good. Dropping my now very still fish I sat back on haunches with a warm glow suffusing my body.

“It is for you my Kindly Knight,” I said and immediately proceeded to lick my wet fur back into place.

There was silence then movement as grass was crushed, releasing that pleasant smell of freshly shorn grass. A large hand touched my head and calloused yet tender fingers stroked. I stopped in sorting the fur on my chest and glanced up.

Oh, his smile made him even handsomer. I say, not fair right?

Yet his eyes were a deep dark brown, full of a glow I couldn’t place. His expression was a thoughtful one as his clever brain figured out something.
“For me? I thank you Bertie, but why? Surely you should have the pleasure in celebrating your first catch by eating aforementioned catch?”

This was the moment and I just hoped my blasted tongue wouldn’t confuse the whole thing.

“Well, that is to say, Sir Knight of Kindly Knots, the fish is for your remarkable B. which must require a lot of fishy goodness to keep working. Also, it is a thank you and a symbol of my ability to provide.”

My ears twitched and I forged on, scarcely able to admit to loving my Knight let alone revealing my true self.

“You may think it foolish, but I…care for you greatly. My affections are all genuine I assure you! As such I must declare my…”

I paused to steady my nerves as I prepared to tumble over the brink, for how could I reveal my true identity without hurting Jeeves?

You see, hiding your true self is rather tricky and becomes trickier the longer you go on. Meirion was quite right there. Oh, what a pickle I was in! Yet, as I fretted, Jeeves stopped petting me and laid down so we could see eye to eye. He was smiling still and I could see his B. had calculated away and concluded something. I hoped it wasn’t my identity, at least not yet.

“Bertie,” he said, so softly and kindly – just as was his nature – “please do not be afraid. I will not be angry. I hardly dare hope, and this is rather forward of me, so I beg forgiveness.”

Jeeves coughed delicately, his cheeks aflame.

“Am I correct in supposing that your…affections are ones of friendship?”

I meowed in agreement, heart beating fast. I could smell Jeeves’ nervousness yet the deep musk of hope and…I blushed in the feline fashion: ears momentarily pressed down then up.

“More than friendship..?” So tentative yet hopeful!

I meowed affirmatively once more, nearly fainting in hope.

The happiness that swept those handsome features was a sight to behold. The musky scent was now streaked through with the fragrant blossom of sheer joy.

“I am of quite the same temperament Bertie. That is, my affection is of a long-lasting nature. Like the evergreen it will not fade.”

How romantic. In return all I could do was show my pleasure and I headbutted my – my - Knight.

“The same Sir Jeeves!” I cried in response. “This is a jolly turn of events. My own personal K.!”

Jeeves laughed, yet the part I dreaded had finally arrived. I must tell Jeeves all.

Yet before I could continue with my confession I heard footsteps and into our little secret world stepped none other than Honoria Glossop.


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“Well I never!” she boomed.

She stood before us arrayed in an outfit more suited to a battlefield. Honoria was an old acquaintance and quite terrifying. Once or twice both my aunts have threatened me with marriage to Honoria.

I only escaped by being deemed “too meek” and in the second occasion saved by a whisker from the looming long walk down the aisle by a better option. Still haven’t met the individual in question but I am terribly grateful. They must either be loony or equally terrifying as Honoria.

For Miss Glossop puts most Knights to shame. A tall athletic lady who favours leggings, tunics and leather arm guards and a leather chest guard. Short sensible hair is brushed back and on her head is a studded leather helmet.

Currently she was carrying a bag, the strap secured over her head and opposite shoulder, a bow with arrows on her back and on her belt an assortment of equipment that would make a bandit think twice. A staff, with a peculiar raven symbol etched on it, also was attached to her back – I had seen it numerous times and thought it rather odd, but been too intimidated to ask for what purpose.

Now I blinked as my feline senses picked up what my dull human senses had not previously.

Oh no, Honoria is a witch!

Just my luck.

Of course, my Knight knew Honoria was a witch at once, by the swift way he rose and lifted me to his shoulder. Good, even though Honoria turned my blood to ice and my tail to droop, I couldn’t leave my Jeeves alone in her presence.

Even his frightful intelligence could be overcome by a beguiling spell!
So we faced H.G. together.

Honoria glanced at me, blinked and then rolled her eyes. My fur bristled, surely I wasn’t that bad a looking cat?

My purple collar was quite spiffing against my ginger and white fur!

“Bertie isn’t it? What have you got yourself into now? I suppose you are the poor Knight trying to cure Bertie’s aliment?”

Jeeves calmly nodded (how I do not know) and spoke in the same respectful manner he always did to people – or dragons and enchanted humans – he felt worthy, (for those unworthy he had a rum manner of sounding respectful, while somehow indicating what he really thought about you – drove the subject bonkers for there was nothing they could pin on my clever Knight and his magnificent B.).

“Yes, Miss..?”

“Glossop, Honoria Glossop.”

“Thank you Miss Glossop. I am Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots and I am on a quest with Bertie to remove the enchantment cast upon him by the Wicked Witch of Weeping Willows.”

“Aunt Agatha up to her usual tricks I see,” snorted the powerhouse of a woman who recalled to mind that Celtic Warrior who drove back those Roman fellows. Began with a B. Bertha? Bettany? Boudicca?

I shook off the distraction as Sir Jeeves of K.K. nodded.

“Indeed Miss Glossop. In our quest we befriended a dragon who revealed what we must do to break the spell. We already possess the crystal, but alas we must seek a maiden with knowledge of spell-craft for the correct herbs and flowers, and then one of the little folk who dwell in the deep caverns of this world for a goblet to brew the potion from which Bertie must drink.”

H.G nodded along, amusement plain.

I curled my claws into the leather shoulder guards, happy that they would protect my Knight from the sharp touch of my claws.

“You looked rather comfortable for a Knight, Horse and Enchanted Cat on a quest,” noted Honoria, eyes sharp and assessing. One hand was on the hilt of her dagger, the other rubbing the back of her neck in a fashion that had my F. senses prickling.

Jeeves however was unfazed. I loved him even more – quite ridiculous honestly – surely there was only a certain amount you could love someone before bursting? Hopefully not, for at this bally rate I will be in an awful mess by tea-time, let alone by supper when Jeeves eats his fish!

“We are very much in love Miss Glossop I assure you.”

H.G. scrutinised us then nodded sharply. My fur settled I tell you and furthermore a flush of relief when there was no protest of trying to “regain” my affections.

“That I can see Sir Jeeves.”

“Thank you Miss Glossop. Now, may I be so bold as to request your assistance? For I can perceive that you are a sorceress and by the mark on your staff and your appearance you must be the Sorceress Raven of Ravenous Reaches?”

Honoria laughed, big and booming.

“Sir Jeeves you are a perceptive chap! Glad Bertie has you. He always needed a good stern hand.”

I say! Before I could protest, my brain suddenly processed Honoria’s title.

Golly! No wonder Honoria reminded me of that Warrior Queen! She was the famous Sorceress who had repelled a giant attack and healed an entire town of a curious sickness that had swept the populace, brought on by an evil wizard!

H.G. could also transform into animals and is said to take Raven form in many a tale. She dwelt in a place that was high indeed, on top of mountain shrouded in mists and fogs.

Legend says it is a wild place full of magical creatures and beings who lived in harmony with the Sorceress, but could be deadly to interlopers seeking treasure or do evil deeds.

Ravenous, that is, for the denizens and the ravenous rocks that clashed together at the bottom of the mountain that fronted the sea. My Aunt Dahlia had hammered into my skull that the rocks closed upon unwary travellers like in that Greek tale with a chap called Jason.

While my B. stuttered over this revelation and my claws sank deeper through Jeeves’ shoulder guards, seeking mental and physical purchase, my Knight of Kindly Knots was proceeding with the matter at hand.

“I thank you for the approval Miss Glossop. Will you then aid us in reversing the spell upon Bertie?”

“Naturally, we can’t have him bounding about as a cat. Can’t tell what further mischief he will get into,” exclaimed Honoria.

In two swift motions the sorceress had her bag open and herbs and flowers upon the green grass. Then she pulled free her staff where the crystal was a dazzling azure blue and said rather imperiously, “Place your crystal next to these herbs and flowers and I shall bless them so that when you brew them in the enchanted goblet the spell shall be broken.”

I sighed and jumped down. Padding over to my personal holdall I retrieved my precious crystal and with some effort rolled it to the most lusciously smelling herbal and floral collection. I sat back and waited.

H.G gave a spiffing show of a sorceress: arms raised, staff in one outstretched hand, her face stern. Under her helmet her grey eyes were as silvery as the fish in the brook and dashed serious.

The world held its breath like the sea about to crash upon the rocks in one fell movement.

My fur stood up as if a storm were brewing. Jeeves knelt next to me, a solid presence while Alys watched calmly, chewing grass without faltering.

My K.K. laid a hand on my back, the touch a comfort against the gathering storm as Honoria – no, the Sorceress of R. R – muttered a spell of immense power.