Better late than never?
So, despite RL being a *clears throat loudly*, here is the silly Cain piece I promised last week. Enjoy! :D
Title: The Pickwickians
Fandom: Count Cain
Characters: Cain, Merry, Riff.
Prompt: 012 - Orange.
Word Count: 983.
Rating: G
Summary: In which Cain's dignity is shredded and Merry gets a new pet.
Author's Notes/Disclaimer: Count Cain and all associated characters, settings, etc., belong to Yuki Kaori-sensei. The only profit I make from this work of fiction is my own satisfaction and, possibly, the enjoyment of others.
The cat had been in his house for more than a week before Cain noticed.
It was all Merry’s doing, of course. She had found the poor, starving thing (looking more like a bit of sodden fur than anything else) in an alley in London - well. London’s alleys have always been full of the less fortunate, as his sister knew quite well, and she couldn’t in good conscience leave the pitiful kitten to die on the streets.
Fortunately Riff had been accompanying her through town that rainy day, because he had the brilliant idea to take Merry’s new hat from its box and put the shivering, dripping kitten inside instead. When the two of them showed up at the door, Merry grinning and Riff pointedly avoiding his gaze in a way that told Cain immediately that they were up to something, he had merely thought it was the state of Merry’s new, completely drenched hat.
“But why on earth did you let her wear it home in the first place, Riff? In the rain?” he asked after Merry had disappeared upstairs with her ruined hat and perfectly dry hatbox.
“Your sister can be quite persuasive, m’lord,” Riff replied, and left it at that. And Cain, who had all too often been coaxed into buying his sister things he had never intended to purchase, felt that this was an adequate explanation, and so he let it go.
The second clue he had had that something was amiss was the maids. Never had a week passed with so many of the maids going about the house giggling and whispering, not to mention pretending to be at work whenever he passed them despite the fact that he had seen them giggling and whispering together not ten seconds before. It made him feel quite paranoid - he often examined his reflection in mirrors, wondering if some chemical’s fumes had streaked his face in different colors, or if perhaps something was stuck to his clothes. But he looked the same as always, he thought, avoiding his reflection’s gaze and needlessly adjusting his collar. Perhaps it was a female thing.
Whatever it was, it had seemed to infect his sister, too. Merriweather had begun roaming the house at odd hours, looking around furtively as though she feared being followed, often with an excited grin upon her face. He often caught her coming from the kitchens with a small parcel of food in her hand, which she would quickly stuff into a pocket. “Hello, Brother!” she chirped, then darted off before he could speak a word.
Even Riff had taken to glancing over his shoulder anxiously as he walked the halls. Once he strode right past Cain without seeing him, then suddenly jumped when Cain called his name. The earl gave him a suspicious look before sweeping away, leaving his butler standing in the corridor with an expression that was somewhere between worried and exasperated.
Finally Cain could stand it no longer. He made his way up to his sister’s room, knocking perfunctorily on the door before striding in without waiting for a reply. Merry and Riff turned to him hastily from where they had obviously been conferring in low tones; the identical shocked looks on their faces would have made him laugh any other time, when he was not wholly and entirely indignant. “I have had enough of secrets,” he began, voice harsh, when suddenly an orange shape leapt from the top of Merry’s dresser onto his head.
He did not scream. He did not so much as say a word as the shape - that he gradually realized was actually a very small, bright orange kitten - balanced expertly on top of his head and curled into his hair, purring audibly. Merry and Riff’s expressions had changed from shocked to horrified - and, in Merry’s case, slightly amused.
There was a very long moment of silence.
“I trust,” Cain said, in as dignified a manner as he could muster, considering the cat perched comfortably on his head, “that you have some explanation for this.”
Once they had told him the whole story - Merry not even attempting to hide her giggles, Riff with several grimaces - Cain sat down in one of the room’s stuffed armchairs, carefully detaching the kitten from his hair and removing it to his lap, where it continued to purr contentedly. He stroked it, switching his gaze from one culprit to the other.
“And the maids were helping you to hide it, weren’t they?”
Merry nodded. “They all thought Pickwick was adorable, too, Brother.” She looked up at him pleadingly. “Please let me keep him! He’s too little to survive on his own!”
“Pickwick. Hmm,” Cain said thoughtfully, peering down at the tiny orange creature. “Is that why you didn’t tell me about him, Merry? Because you thought I wouldn’t let you keep him?” He raised one eyebrow at his butler, who had the grace to appear embarrassed.
“Well,” said his sister, obviously startled, “yes. And I made Riff promise not to tell, either, so don’t get angry with him, Brother,” she added, somewhat fiercely.
Cain sighed. “Merry, if you want a pet, I’m not going to forbid you from having one.”
“Oh.” Merry blinked, then beamed. “Really? I may keep him?”
He smiled slightly. “You may.” He gingerly plucked the cat from his lap, giving it to his sister with one hand before standing and walking to the door. “But please let me know the next time you decide to take in a stray,” he continued, lips quirking into his familiar smirk as he left, shutting the door gently behind him.
Merry and Riff looked at each other, relief apparent on both their faces. “That went rather better than I expected,” Merry said. Riff nodded in clear relief, and they both smiled when the muffled sounds of the earl’s chuckles drifted in to them from the hall.
“Pickwick! Honestly!”
END
My Little Damn Table.