Tygs and Stardance conned me

[maderr]

This is...slightly spoilery for Book Four? Not really, though, since it happens like the first time Ailill appears in the story, and does not give the story away.

Mostly its Ailill getting pounced, but it does introduce a new char and mentions another, as well as some of Ailill's inner turmoil.

Also being typed straight from my notes to LJ, so pardon any errors.



Ailill stifled a sigh as they walked along the cobblestone streets.

He didn't want to be back, not really.

Truly he loved his homeland, he did. Verde was in his blood, in his heart.

Still...now he would no longer be Ailill. He would be the Marquis Ailill le Blanc, White Panther of the Third Province of the West.

He slid a glance at Ivan, who walked silently beside him, eyes riveted to the surroundings -- even in the poorer districts, the houses were drastically different than what he was used to in Pozhar, and the delicate-looking houses of Kundou, the heavy stonework of Piedre.

Everything in Verde was meant to be, for lack of a better word, pretty. Not necessarily in a delicate or simpering way, but it wasn't the strong, bright work of Pozhar, that was for certain. From silver to woodwork to the simplest homespun cloth, Verde prefer things look good.

Queen spare him, he did not want to give up his comfortable clothes. Just thinking of what his valet would shortly be forcing him into gave him a headache. Already he could hear Ivan laughing...or worse turning away, maybe thinking that something so snooty looking wasn't worth his time.

Hiding his worries, burying them as he always did, Ailill reached out and took Ivan's hand, smiling at the way the man still seemed surprised when he did such things. "What do you think, Vanya?"

"I think we're out of place," Ivan said, but with a smile. "You're the Beast, but I certainly look and feel like rather I am."

Aill frowned. "You're not out of place." He stopped them in the middle of the street and stole a hard kiss, and though he would have done so in broad daylight he was grateful it was dark and the street deserted, lit only by a few scattered torchlights. "Together is right where we're supposed to be, right?"

"Of course," Ivan replied, his fond smile doing wonders to his otherwise severe features -- more than a few people in their travels had thought Ivan evil looking. Ailill didn't see it. Ivan always looked stern, but evil?

Ridiculous. Ailill stole another kiss, a quick grope, and then resumed their walk, not letting go of the hand he still held.

Come morning he'd have to resign himself and admit to relevant persons that he was back in Verdel. Tonight, however, he could be just Ailill, a giant white cat and in possession of the most wonderful man in the world.

Hopefully, that last wouldn't change when Ivan saw him as a Marquis. Ailill forced his thoughts to stop turning morose and started looking for a good spot to--

The scent caught him too late, and he turned around just in time to catch the force that slammed into him, snarling as he shifted instinctively from man to cat, his yowl of outrage shattering the still night.

Distantly he heard Ivan's startled exclamation, demands to stop, to know what was going on.

He snarled again and scrambled free of the creature that had knocked him down -- that had pounced him.

In all the provinces, there was only one person that had the nerve to pounce the White Panther. Growling, Ailill pounced, meeting the other cat head on, falling into a taggle of claws and teeth and yowling. At last, after several minutes of tussling, he had the other cat pinned. Giving one last growl of warning, Ailill backed off and stalked over to Ivan, twining around his Vanya, nuzzling, growling softly when Ivan knelt and pet him, stroked his ears, dragged his fingers roughly but so pleasntly through his fur. He licked Vanya's face and quickly backed away, finally turning back to his assailant.

The black panther sat licking his paws as though it were the most normal thing in the world to pounce the White Panther in the middlef of the night.

Ailill shifted back and glared. "Noire."

Yawning wide, the other cat gave an indelicate snort and shifted. The man that stood in place of the cat was tall and lanky, and Ailill knew that in good light his eyes would be pale blue, skin tanned dark by the sun. It was impossible to tell the color of his clothes in the weak light of the torches, but his grin was obvious. "I heard a rumour that a particular kitty kitty had returned to Verde. I've been prowling all night, figured you wouldn't jump right into things. Your dearly devoted await you in the Golden Voice."

"Who are you?" Ivan demanded, his voice and manner all business.

"Vanya, this is an old friend -- Noire Chevalier, something of a...scout for her Grace the Duchess Frederique Levesque, Protectorate and Gaurdian Prospective of the West...also known as my immediate superior. The Duchess, not Noire here."

Noire sniffed. "You could have said you were my friend."

Ailill smirked. "That would be lying."

"You wound me."

"Not enough. Why are you out here, Noire?"

Noire shrugged and moved closer, and Ailill was astonishd to see how tired and strained he looked. "I've been busy, and things haven't gotten better while you were gone."

"I never thought they would," Ailill said with a sigh.

"So who's your severe looking man? Bring home a lover? A foreigner?" Noire looked Ivan slowly up and down. "Fighting being nobility every step of the way, aren't you? But he definitely has the look and smell of a keeper."

"Thank you," Ailill said dryly, gripping Ivan's arm to keep him still. "We're staying at the Sinking Ship. Come with us -- you can meet Ivan's team and fill me in before I'm forced back into that nobility I hate so much. How's Freddie?"

"She never changes," Noire said tiredly, sadly. "She never changes." His eyes flicked to Ivan, back to Ailill, and back again. "Let's go talk."