The Tears of Anael

Ta’avahiel drew a deep breath as he walked through the hallway of cats, flinching every time another tabby or calico rubbed itself against his leg and streaked another line of fur across the immaculate white of his gown. The air was thick with the smells and yowls of a thousand cats doing their thousand feline things, hunting, playing, sleeping, mating, all shot through with the fine food and drink of the Prince who ruled them all. One low purr rumbled differently from the rest, spilling out into the hall from beyond a half-open door. The angel rolled his eyes, folded his wings carefully, and slipped inside.

A cat-eared youth lay sprawled in folded a bed, his tanned, golden skin gleaming with sweat as it lay against the watery blue sheets and the sleek, powerful leopardess who shared them. The jungle cat yawned, baring her great, sharp teeth, and Ta’avahiel stopped his approach, waiting as she nosed her companion awake. The youth barely seemed to notice his presence, as though members of Heaven’s Choir came daily to his door, and drew the great cat’s head to him, kissing her between the eyes.

“Tybalt…”

The youth’s ears twitched a little, as though expecting Ta’avahiel to continue, and the kiss slipped lower, until his lips met the cat’s, lingering there in a deep, gentle touch of affection.

It was pointless to argue. “Tybalt, Prince of Cats, whose subjects were once as gods and have never forgotten…”

The kiss broke for a moment as Tybalt peered over his companion’s head, narrowing his bright green eyes to slits. He considered the angel with slow, lazy confidence, twitching his tail beneath the sheets. “You forgot ‘each equal to any king’, but that may pass.” The kiss resumed, dying off into a show of warm, contented nuzzling, as if he enjoyed watching Ta’avahiel squirm in discomfort at their open, bestial affection. “Go, Remi,” he murmured, sending his subject away, and the leopardess stalked from the room, glaring at her master’s visitor for his intrusion.

The angel closed the door, unfurling his wings once more. The gesture would be lost on the Prince, he knew, but it always felt better to speak bathed in His glory. “If a man layeth with any animal, he must be stoned.”

Tybalt yawned, in his peculiarly feline way, running his tongue across the edges of his teeth. “Higher than a kite, Tavah, but I am both and neither, and the rules bear little upon me, as well you ought to know.” His ears folded flat against his head, as though in demonstration.

Ta’avahiel bristled a little at the Prince’s defiance. “That was an abomination, before the eyes of God.”

A low chuckle served as an answer. “You saw only a kiss, little bird. Leave it be.”

“Judas betrayed the Son with the same.”

The Prince stretched, letting the sheets fall around his body as he raised his hips, cracking each joint in his back in a slow, lazy rise to his hands and knees, then fell over to his side again, considering his visitor. “You didn’t come to lecture me, Tavah. You want something from me, and it must be something that no one else can give.” He thought for a moment, gesturing to a small pouch on a nearby table. “It’s probably not the catnip, but you’re welcome to some if you want.”

Ta’avahiel shifted awkwardly, trying to recover his dignity from beneath the Prince’s idle, uncaring gaze. “Something only you can bring me, yes.”