#I feel like diety derived names would be common! and Pelor is one of Whitestone's patron gods

[blorbologist]

Cat among the pigeons

[Just a lil something set in the 1-year timeskip ]

There’s a cat crammed in a rat-cage.

Vex squints dangerously at the old halfling - Staffen, she thinks - presenting her with this catch. “What’s this?”

“Lady Vex’ahlia,” they say, and her irritation is immediately soothed by the title, “this cat has been slinking about the castle since its reclaiming. It has evaded capture - until now.”

“And you’re bringing her to me, because…”

Staffen adjusts the glasses on their nose one-handed - a touch difficult, with a growling feline spinning in the cage to spit at them. “As Grand Mistress of the Grey hunt” - Vex straightens further and does her best to maintain a small and not outrageous smile - “the beasts of the Patchwood and Whitestone are your domain. And, ah - this is most certainly a beast. She has killed several of the new messenger pigeons, even got into the henhouse.” 

Vex motions for Staffen to put the cage on her desk - a scarred thing, repurposed from the surviving furniture in the castle. Being so new to the Chamber, she did not want to waste funds when perfectly good desks were available to her. 

She then immediately shucks her jacket and throws it over the cage. The growling lowers to a mumble. 

“Why the hells did you catch her?” she exclaims. It takes a deep breath to steel herself - thankfully, Staffen hardly looks perturbed, as though they expect overreaction from nobility. “She survived the Briarwoods and now, what - you want to kick her out? Who knows how many mice would run the place if not for her. And those would be far worse for the stores.” 

They rub at their bald head. “I must note that, as you astutely said, the creature was likely present during the reign of those monsters.” Now their mouth curls into a pained snarl - all too common a reaction to the usurpers. It’s either exhausted relief that it’s done or vicious hurt and anger it happened at all. “How could any good, gods-fearing animal survive-”

“We’re animals too, darling,” Vex says. She fishes for some jerky in her desk - only Trinket’s good manners keep him out. “If Cassandra made it through those dark years alive, I don’t doubt this dear could, too.”

Without lifting the shroud of darkness, Vex slides an open palm of dried meat to where the feline protests are coming from. 

She shoots the halfling a very, very smug look over the cage and jacket as the growling stops and a barbed tongue rasps over her fingers. 

“I’d be a fool to fire such a diligent worker,” she preens.

--

It’s only a day or two later Vex is able to get Pelora (apparently a common name children give pale or ginger mollies in Whitestone - the daughter of Cassandra’s valet names her) to stop and enjoy some scritches as she pads by. Positive reinforcement is doing wonders for the poor thing - her ears are ragged ruins, her nerves even worse. Despite helping herself to castle fowl she’s skin and bones underneath.

It’s a delightful surprise, if not a betrayal, to find the cat stole her spot a week after their meeting.

“Percy, darling,” she calls as she slips into his office, a plate heaped with lunch for both of them in one hand. 

In an unusual turn, Percival is not pouring over some request for funding or aid or another. Handling citizenship applications from refugees looking to move to Whitestone in a more permanent manner had been the subject of much of his attention.

Which is why Vex made a point to show up and make herself subject of his attention, when she could. 

His head shoots up to meet her gaze, glasses most of the way down his nose. Percy smirks and brings a finger to his lips. Shh.

Curiosity piqued, Vex tiptoes over, silently setting their plate on a somewhat clear spot. She thinks that document can handle a few crumbs. 

Pelora is curled in his lap, purring. As if sensing Vex she opens her eyes - the fluffy mouser trills, flipping to show her belly. Her paws knead the air.

Vex stifles a snicker behind her hand. 

“She stole my spot!” she giggles.

Percy laughs hard enough to piss off the cat. She leaves in a huff, tail high. Vex, at least, keeps her word and seats herself in the space thus vacated. Percy’s such a pleasant shade of red when she does it - hard to resist kissing his cheek before digging in.