August 4, 2016
HELL YES! So this wonderful scene between Sellemar and his cat was originally found in Gods or Men, when Gods or Men was book 2 and Heroes or Thieves did not yet exist. When Heroes or Thieves came into being and the whole story was revamped, this scene, with so many others, was lost. Now it is being revived for your viewing pleasure, in celebration of the Kings or Pawns tour! Tada!
Prior Knowledge Needed:
Cats hate Sellemar. Sellemar's home is overrun by rodents. Sellemar decides, against Itirel's advice, to get a cat. Blah blah blah, time passes: enter this scene.
Sellemar heaved his oiled sack onto the counter, tying it tightly to prevent any of his dried provisions from spilling to the ground. A furry paw lazily stretched toward him, a claw snagging the side of the bag. “Hello, Tilowen,” he greeted the cat as she stretched herself across his counter and batted once at a small crumb beside the half-opened cupboard door. “Did you catch more mice today?” he purred. He extended a hand to stroke her cheek. “What a good…” he trailed off as the cat unhooked her paw, rolled to her feet, and hopped off the counter.
She turned back once to throw him a dirty look, then scampered across the sunlit marble floors and out of the kitchen.
“Well good riddance to you, too,” he muttered, dropping his hand against the smooth surface of the counter. It was cold to the touch due to the many unlit fires of the estate, warm only where the cat had previously lain. “I hope you starve while I am not here to pamper you,” he added resentfully.
Unfortunately, that possibility was slim—she had been far too successful in her daily hunts. Sellemar’s war with the rodents was all but won, but he now found himself mildly worried that one of her attempts to sabotage his wellbeing would be successful, and he would one day reach the end of his life at the bottom of a staircase with a broken neck. What an ending for a hero—and how Sairel would laugh. He rubbed his hands subconsciously.
Sellemar turned to the wall beside him, smiling as his eyes landed on the golden plated spear resting against the wall, mid-shaft wrapped in silver and embedded with precious stones. It brought him far more pleasant memories than Tilowen did. He lifted his spear from where it leaned and his smile faded.
“…Really, cat?” he growled, noting the small fibers of wood protruding from the base where she had used it as a scratching post.
He tucked it under his arm as he picked up his sack and swept a hand once over the counter to ensure that it was clean. His hand came away with a wad of cat hair clinging to it.
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