[Open] Catgroove.

[regalduchess]

The cat; small, lithe, and scared; runs through the aviary chased out by chirping birds, their beady eyes vindictive.

Once upon a time, there was a cheerfully tinkling bell on her collar. Now, it lies on the aviary floor as a trophy to the birds. The entire castle she runs through has a strange feeling to it, like everything is dead. Or asleep, or in mourning.

She finally comes to the throne room. Even cobweb-encrusted as they are, the silk seats are soft and comforting. The musty warmth reminds her of Bonfamille and her pink boas, her soft skin, the perfume she always wears-- always used to wear.

With a soft sigh, Duchess curls into a circle with her tail hanging off the edge of the throne, and tries to sleep.

Comments

[regalduchess]

Duchess lays as still as possible but for the slightest twitching of her tail, wanting to see just how close this person will come. It sounds like a human, and doesn't sound cruel at all-- so, she'll wait.

[lightofthestars]

Closer, closer she creeps, still beckoning the cat.

"Tolo, tolo, iaul...."

Maybe if she brought fish, the cat would come.

[regalduchess]

Tauriel will be able to get all the way to the throne before Duchess gracefully raises her head and turns to look her in the eyes, ears inclined forwards.

She gives a curious little chitter, head at a tilt.

"Hello, beautiful cat. I am Tauriel."

[lightofthestars]

A, such beauty!

Her smile grows as she holds out a hand for the cat to sniff. "Galu, iaul vain. Im Tauriel."

[regalduchess]

Duchess leaned forwards to sniff her hand, as if deigning to do so; then she gives it a soft lick with her raspy tongue.

"You are a sweet cat."

[lightofthestars]

At once, a wide smile appears upon her face. How fortunate she is!

"Ci iaul velui," she tells it and reaches out to stroke it with her other hand.

[regalduchess]

Duchess purrs and arches up into her petting secure in the knwoledge that Tauriel meant no harm.

After a while, she finally speaks. "Hello! I do not know if you know English-- but whatever you are speaking is very elegant."

[lightofthestars]

Tauriel's hand freezes in place. For a moment, she stares, her mouth dropped open.

"You--You can speak?"

[regalduchess]

"You do know English! And yes. I did not want to alarm you." She looks worried, herself, as if Tauriel might run away. "It seems to be something new. I couldn't speak in my old home."

[lightofthestars]

"I...I can speak Westron. Some call it 'English.'" She feels almost dizzy. "Here, we--we can all understand one language a person speaks, though not all. That is why you could not understand when I used my own language."

She will need to tell Sans of this. He will be thrilled.

[regalduchess]

"That is interesting." She leans forwards to bump her and Tauriel's noses together, just for a moment. "My name is Duchess. What is your name?"

[lightofthestars]

"A!" Tauriel squeaks at the touch of a wet nose to hers, but she laughs afterward.

For a moment, she does not know why Duchess asks again for her name. She soon remembers, however, that she had been speaking her own language when she had first given it.

"I am Tauriel. Well met, Duchess."

[regalduchess]

"Well met." She repeats, with a mystified purr. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Tauriel."

She swishes her tail idly a few times, and then butts her head up against Tauriel's chest in lieu of anything else to do. "Where are you from?"

[lightofthestars]

Tauriel makes another small noise. Her hand stays lifted in the air, then uncertainly settles upon Duchess' back. It is...strange to pet one who speaks.

"I am from the Woodland Realm, in Middle-earth." Will it ever not be odd to tell the name of her world? "Do you know of it?"

[regalduchess]

"No, no, I'm afraid not. Is it pretty there?" Woodlands, she's never been to; not even the bubbling little stream she sees in pictures and paintings in the house, which is supposed to be only a mile away.

[lightofthestars]

"Indeed it is. Though much of it has been corrupted by evil, those places that remain untouched are wonderful indeed."

For a moment, a look of longing is upon her face, but she hides it away to ask, "From where do you hail, Duchess?"

[regalduchess]

"Oh, that is terrible. I am so sorry that your-- your home has been corrupted." Her face falls, ears laying flat against her head.

"I hail from Paris. It's a lovely place, simply lovely."

[lightofthestars]

"Paris," she says, trying to remember if she has heard this name before. "Is this a...place in Middle-earth?"

She does not know whether that is the name of a realm or a town, a forest or something else entirely.

[regalduchess]

"No, no, just a place on regular Earth." Duchess hops down from the chair and paces, tail flicking behind her. "Paris was so beautiful-- the canals, the cobblestone streets, our house-- what was Middle-earth like?"

[lightofthestars]

She looks away, a little ashamed. "I cannot say. This is the first time I have left the Woodland Realm in all my days."

[regalduchess]

"Oh, that's perfectly alright." She leans forwards to nuzzle Tauriel's cheek. "Tell me about this Woodland Realm?"

[lightofthestars]

She startles; the touch of fur was not something she had forethought.

Looking back at Duchess, she says, "It is my home. One can sit in the tree-tops and look upon a sea of green. At night, the stars stretch away and cast their glittering light as far as sight allows, and the air is sweet indeed. Though the servants of the Necromancer ever strive against us, there is still great beauty to be found."

[regalduchess]

Duchess lets her speak; in truth, she herself is captivated by the idea of rolling oceans of green leaves, stars covering the entire sky and not blocked out by the yellows of streetlamps.

"Oh. Who is this Necromancer? He sounds..." she contorts her tail into a curlicue and allows that to finish her sentence.