Her Majesty's Cat

Patrol began at twilight, after every sconce on the walls and every fireplace had been lit to start to warm these cool stone halls. Dinner would be served shortly, but first, to rouse from a seemingly deep sleep where he had actually been sentry beside his Royal Mistress' throne. A languid stretch, the graceful arch of his back, as he ignored the sneaked glances and single open amused stare sent his way as he slipped out of the main audience after another long day of holding court.

He felt smug, for none other could get away with behaving as he did, not that he would ever dream of being unprofessional or otherwise inappropriate. Let Her foes underestimate him, even as thin slits, his gilded eyes missed nothing. Even with them completely shut, his ears kept him aware of any pests that may need eradicating, in order to preserve his Lady's reign. Their whispers could not escape from his notice, their wicked conspiracies would not remain hidden. He would permit no threat to reach Her.

Inky black and shadow swift, he slunk about the corridors. His presence was largely ignored, when he cared to be detected at all. Everybody knew who he was, after all, but more importantly, they knew who he served, who he belonged to, and who would be the most irate should he be interfered with in the slightest. Only She held his loyalty, and thus, only She could hold him close, could remotely touch him at all without risking the pain dealt by his many sharply pointy arsenal.

Promptly just as the first dishes were served, his circuit of the castle found him right by Her chair once more, where She sat at the head of a long table, as though he had never left Her side at all. She didn't once look his way, but unlike most other people, he knew that She always knew when he was there. Just as he made it his business to always be aware of Her whereabouts, Her day to day schedule as familiar to him as his own.

After supper's end, he followed his Mistress, and it was only in the privacy of Her chambers that She let Herself openly reach out to him, and he went to Her at once, now that there were no prying eyes to witness Her showing the slightest hint of weakness. Not that he would ever consider himself to be Her weakness, nor that She ever had any at all.

"Lucas," She sighed his name wearily, as She stroked his head, Her fingers slipping through dark silken strands down to lightly and playfully pinch his chin. "Even after all this time, haven't I told you that you don't need to be My soldier anymore? The war is over, the rebellion done, and the whole point of changing you into this form is so that you wouldn't have to fight ever again..."

He said nothing, of course. Her words weren't anything new, after all. Almost every night, She would complain of his myriad activities that took him away from Her line of sight. She would tell him that his 'duty' to Her was fully served, and he should be truly spending all his time merely relaxing in sun-warmed spots, instead of only pretending to sleep for Her and Her subjects' benefit. And every time his response to Her 'complaints' was an almost complete silence, for he didn't need to make a single sound to let Her know that he would continue to devote himself to Her, all six of his remaining lives in service to Her reign. No matter what form his body may take, he was Hers.

And She was his.

With a soft rumbling in his chest, he nuzzled into the palms of Her smooth and noble hands.

After his Mistress had gone and taken Herself to bed, he rose and stretched again. He needed to resume his patrol, after all, but this time by the light of the moon.

The only way he would finally relax enough to sink into his own dreams of his past existence was when his 'shift' was over, and one of the other souls residing within this sleek slim body could take over for a little while. Even then, he didn't let himself get comfortable to the point of fully relinquishing his hold, feeling a need to be able to reassert his control and resurface, should one of the others become unruly, or another situation arise that none of his colleagues might be up to the task of resolving-

Wait. Was that night guard asleep at his post? Bad idea. Truthfully such terrible luck on his part that it was Lucas who caught him. Dereliction was an unforgivable sin. The man had best get used to jumping at the slightest sound and otherwise becoming hypervigilant of his surroundings, if he wanted to manage to not lose his job -or his life- come morning.

All in all, it was a bore of a night. Neither thieves nor assassins dared wander about the properties. There wasn't even a single tryst in the bushes to interrupt, no gossipping maids, much less schemers with plots to foil.

No rats in the cellar, either.

It was both disappointing and relieving. Perhaps His Queen had gotten the right of it, after all, not that he would ever outwardly contradict Her. As far as everyone else was concerned, even if She said wrong was Right, she was Right, and even if she said wrong was Wrong, she would still be Right. For Her word was law, in this and all other things.

He returned to Her chambers after an uneventful roaming, as the various denizens of the castle began to stir.

No, it didn't matter that they lived in peaceful times now. Rather, it was good to have this idyll to be bored by. May no one else even try to think of usurping his Lady's seat at the top of the land. They really didn't need another bloody war on their hands.

After breakfast was meeting with the councilors. Then it would be lunch, and after that, a few hours at court to listen to this person or that air their issues with their neighbors or make requests of Her Graciousness- Sleeping. He would, for all intents and purposes, be a rude little thing with nary a care in the world, too deeply asleep to even so much as twitch at anyone or anything.

Eventually, any raised voices would be quieted, and the flow of persons who made appointments and were granted an audience would trickle to a slow then to a full stop.

Then patrol would begin anew.