Chapter Text
Having to constantly move towns was getting a bit old.
This time it wasn't even Jabber's fault, he'd been minding his own business when some dude thought it was a great idea to get a gang of lackeys together and try and corner him as revenge for...something. Embarrassing him in a fight, maybe? Probably. As if it was Jabber's fault he'd been weak enough that he hadn't even needed to unsheathe Mankira. But clearly he'd wanted a taste, so Jabber had let his favorite dagger give them all a little kiss. The toxin her blade was coated in should've only been enough to paralyze them for a little bit, how was Jabber supposed to know the guy was allergic? Or that he was the Baron's son. Whoops.
Eh. Whatever. That town had been too stuffy anyway. Too many people and not nearly enough interesting flora, even deep in the surrounding woods. He'd had a pretty good gig selling his homemade salves and tinctures to local healers and monasteries, but everyone there had made it pretty clear early on that his presence was only begrudgingly tolerated. He supposed being a hermit who dealt in poisons and semi-regularly got in brawls near the tavern would have that affect. They'd never really accepted him as a member of the community, and the second he'd been branded as a criminal instead of a nuisance everyone had been more than willing to join the metaphorical witch hunt for him. He'd managed to get a few of the more vindictive ones pretty good with a nasty hallucinogen combo on his way out, as a little parting gift, but the arrival of the royal guard had let him know it was time to pack up and try his luck elsewhere.
Worked out well enough though, it had taken a few weeks of travel and being a stowaway but this place was way more promising. A greater variety of herbs, a better climate for mushrooms, and the townspeople seemed chill enough, or at least they had been the one time he'd gone into the market to buy some jars and distilled alcohol. And they didn't even have an apothecary! Apparently their one healer was good enough that it hadn't been an issue, but she'd seemed incredibly eager to accept Jabber's offer of selling her his curatives anyway. So he even had a way to get some coin! And to top it all off, there had been an abandoned cottage in disrepair far on the edge of town, nestled partially in the woods. It was perfect. He'd had to clear out a fair amount of fungi, and more than one section of the wall would have to be redone from mold damage, but it was a good a place as any to settle down.
The town ticked every box, and the only thing he'd been told to look out for was a local coven of witches who also lived on the edge of town.
He'd been surprised to hear them talk so openly about it. Even though magic wasn't outlawed anymore was still looked down on in a lot of places, and covens especially were generally seen as untrustworthy. It made the royal types real nervous to have a group of spellcasters working together. But the woman who worked at the distillery had said that they were genuinely good people, just liked their privacy.
Jabber got that, and as long as they stayed out of his way he'd stay out of theirs.
...
Jabber was gonna rip his hair out.
How hard could it be to find a single goddamn flower? One that was supposedly native and in season too.
It went by a lot of different names —Aconite, Monkshood, Wolfsbane— but the one thing that was universal was its medicinal properties: applied topically it relieved pain from bruises, and when the root was treated properly it could cure fever and inflammation, but on its own...it was a poison he'd been wanting to get his hands on for ages.
Even the smallest amount ingested would cause a tingling and numbness in the mouth that soon extended to the rest of the body, followed by a strangling sensation in the throat and sinking feeling in the upper abdomen that eventually turned into intense nausea and vomiting. It was known to be hell and Jabber couldn't wait to feel it himself.
If he could just find it.
He'd been searching for hours and was just about to give up and call it a day when he stumbled upon the cottage.
It was quaint, made mostly of cobblestone, and looked as if it had been there for ages, like it might've been even older than the town itself. There were several runes carved into the stones that made up the foundation of the cottage, and lavender smoke puffed lazily out of the chimney. That on its own was enough to be notable, but what really caught Jabbers eye was the garden.
Tall stone walls almost fully covered in creeping ivy blocked most of the garden from view, but facing the forest on the side Jabber approached was an intricate iron gate that was just barely cracked open, and through the gaps in the looping metal Jabber could see an explosion of blooms.
He knew a witches abode when he saw one. But he also knew a potion-maker's garden when he saw one. And he knew that it would definitely have Wolfsbane.
He looked around, and strained to hear if there was anyone else in the vicinity. Nothing. He crept over to the side of the cottage, taking the chance to peek through one of the round windows looking in. No signs of anyone inside.
...Would it be incredibly stupid and risky to break into a witch's garden? Absolutely. But would it be worth it if he got his Aconite root and was able to finally head back and use it? ...Probably. As long as he wasn't turned into a newt or something. He didn't mind those odds.
Besides, was it really breaking in if the gate was already cracked open? It was practically begging him to go inside. And who was Jabber to say no to that kind of invitation?
After one last moment of deliberation he made his way over to the gate —the treasures behind way too tempting to resist— and then he heard the sound of a crunching leaf to his right and quickly snapped towards it, hand automatically going to Mankira.
To his surprise, standing near the base of the stone wall was a cat.
It's body was a light tan, blending in a gradient to dark ash brown fur at the extremities, and it had piercing blue eyes that stared at Jabber with an intelligence that was almost disconcerting.
It had a blue tassel on a cord in place of a collar, and if that wasn't enough to denote it as domesticated, the shiny, silky quality of it's fur and the somehow pretentious energy it carried itself with definitely would be.
Jabber breathed out, relaxing, and then squatted down, lazily putting a hand out towards it.
He'd always had a bit of a soft spot for cats. There was something he could appreciate about an animal that acted purely in its own self interest, intelligent and graceful with the ability to quickly shut down unwanted friendliness with five sharp claws. He could respect that.
He made a clicking noise as he rubbed his fingers together, trying to beckon it over.
The cat, in response, just looked at him disdainfully, and then gave him a short hiss.
Jabber snorted, standing back up.
"Aight, I get it. We don't gotta be friends. I'm just gonna slip in here reeeall quick, so don't blow my cover, kay?"
The cats eyes narrowed as Jabber pulled the gate open and stepped inside.
Once in, he had to stop and take a moment.
The garden was somehow even more breathtaking behind the gate. Everything in full bloom, colors and scents that were so beautiful they were almost dizzying.
Jabber didn't mess with magic himself, but even he could feel the magic that had no doubt played a hand in their growth, it sung quietly through every petal and leaf. It was enchanting, and the magnificence of it made him feel like he'd somehow stumbled into a fae forest.
Another hiss caught his attention and he looked up to see the cat, now perched on the top of the ivy-covered stone wall, tail thrashing.
He grinned as he put his finger to his lips, a silent *shhhh* that made the cat glare at him even harder.
The cat walked along the wall before jumping onto a potting bench, sitting on the top shelf along with several empty terracotta pots. It warbled a low growl while looking at Jabber and he ignored it in favor of scanning the sea of blooms for Wolfsbane.
"Zanka?" a muffled male voice spoke from inside, and Jabber ducked low, trying not to make any noise.
Damn, not empty then. And being caught sneaking around a witch's garden would be very bad for him. Not that a fight with a witch wouldn't be extremely fun, but the toxin currently coating Mankira was purely lethal, and it would be really annoying to have to be on the run for murder again.
He caught the eye of the cat, still on the top shelf of the potting bench, and tried to mentally ask it not to make any noise either.
The cat kept direct eye contact with him. And then—in an act so intentionally petty Jabber had no choice but to begrudgingly respect it—it took a paw and used it to nudge a pot off the shelf.
Jabber watched it fall in slow motion and took a split-second to mourn the fact that he definitely wouldn't be getting that Wolfsbane.
The shattering of the terracotta was more than loud enough to catch the attention of whoever was inside, and Jabber could only internally laugh as he made a break for it out the still-open gate.
He didn't stop running until he was deep in the forest and well out of sight from the cottage. He waited a bit in silence to make sure no angry witch was coming after him, and then couldn't help but giggle as he laid down to catch his breath.
Damn, he'd been had. By a cat.
Maybe it woulda been more frustrating if the entire thing hadn't been so objectively hilarious.
Cat 1, Jabber 0.
...
The next time he saw the cat he was coming back from foraging.
It had been a pretty good haul, a few fly agaric mushrooms that he could make a decent hallucinogen with, some woodear he could turn into a soup, and a fair amount of goldenrod he'd dry and turn into tea. Not a bad day, but nothing notable except the agarics.
He'd been making his way through the woods back to his house when he stumbled upon some sort of small game trap.
It was clearly amateur work, sloppy knots and improper tension, and Jabber stared at it for a second, trying to figure out what animal they could possibly be trying to trap.
It was too big for a rabbit or squirrel, but too small for anything else, and the most confusing aspect was that in the center, as bait, was a single sardine.
It was an eyesore more than anything else, and Jabber picked up a stick to poke at it.
"Hey! Stop that!" Hissed a voice from a few trees away, and Jabber looked over, more confused than surprised to see a man in the branches with a net. "It's dishonorable to mess with a fellow man's trap!"
Jabber looked down at the "trap" and then back at the man.
"...Riiight....and you're tryna trap...?"
The man scoffed.
"The cat. Obviously." He made a shoo-ing motion. "No go, before you scare it off. You're lucky I'm a man of principle, not everyone is as forgiving about sabotage as I am."
Jabber just started at him, half-wondering if he'd found and eaten a new mushroom and just forgotten about it.
"Uhhhh...okay, you have fun with that man." Jabber said as he shrugged, deciding it wasn't quite interesting enough to be worth his time, and continued his walk back.
Only a minute or so later Jabber got the distinct feeling he was being watched and looked up, only to see the cat in question, sitting on the low branch of a tree, blue eyes already locked on him.
Jabber blinked in surprise, before huffing out a laugh and holding up a hand in a half-wave towards it.
"Yo. Lil far from home, huh?"
The cat continued to stare at him, unchanging except for the now slightly agitated movement of their tail.
Jabber rolled his eyes and pointed with his thumb behind him, unbothered.
"There's a guy back there with a shitty trap for you by the way. Don't get caught in it, dude seems mad weird." He said with a grin.
He knew the cat couldn't understand what he was saying, but the way it narrowed its eyes at his words made it seem like it did.
"Good luck, don't get eaten or whatever." Jabber said as he continued his trek home, leaving the cat behind.
...
Jabber visited the market again the next day.
In between shops he noticed the man from the woods, walking around slouched with a bandage on his face and a cloud of depression and dissapointment following over him. Jabber overheard him muttering something morosely about "that impertinent feline" being "too damned smart", to which another man just nodded and patted his back.
Seemed like his trap had failed then, and Jabber didn't bother trying to bite back a grin as he continued getting supplies.
...
The white-haired healer girl —whatever her name had been— actually gave him a pretty generous rate for his remedies, and to his surprise, despite her initial nervousness, was surprisingly easy to talk to, mostly about medicines he brought, and so far every time he'd come in to sell to her they'd idly chatted while he unloaded. It was weird.
Jabber finished setting the last jar of diuretic tea on the counter. It was kind of nice that he didn't have to explain what every single thing was used for, she seemed to have a good general knowledge.
"That should be the last of it."
"Perfect, let me figure out what I owe you." She said as she grabbed the jar. "Oh, is this Horsetail? Where'd you find it?"
"There's a slow section in one of the streams in the forest, sort of a mini bog."
He hoped she didn't ask anything more specific than that, it had been pure chance that he'd stumbled on it, and he doubted he'd be able to find his way back. But she just nodded and made an understanding noise while getting a pouch to put some gold in. While she counted out the pieces she spoke again.
"So, um. How are you liking it here so far?"
Jabber shrugged.
"Can't complain. Y'all got a good variety of plants and shit. One question though, some guy was tryna catch someones cat in the forest? Is that a thing here?"
Her eyes widened.
"Did he catch him?"
"Nah, the trap was hot garbage, I don't– wait, him?"
She relaxed at the confirmation the trap had failed, then nodded.
"Yeah, that cat belongs to a witch who lives here."
"...So why would they wanna catch it? Seems like that would just piss off whole coven."
Eisha wrung her hands.
"Well, usually, but-"
"They're trying to win the challenge." Came a voice from behind Jabber, and he turned around.
"Semiu!" Eisha said, sounding relived. "I'll go grab your order, one moment!"
"Challenge?" Jabber asked the tall woman in spectacles, Semiu apparently. She looked vaguely familiar, and then Jabber realized she was the Inkeeper he'd stayed with when he'd first arrived, before he'd found his cottage.
She nodded.
"You know about our local coven, yeah?"
Jabber knew they were the ones hoarding all the beautiful poisons he needed.
"Yeah, someone told me about em when I got here. They're in that big cottage on the edge of the forest, right?"
"That's them. So basically, one of them, Zanka, came of age recently. He's...well, to be blunt about it, he's gorgeous. Weirdly so, to be honest. There's rumors he's some sort of runaway prince, or that there's fae in his bloodline somewhere, point is — the guys a looker. And once he became eligible for marriage he was receiving proposals left and right."
Jabber could imagine why, if he was that good looking and a member of a well-respected coven, lots of people would probably be interested. Throw in the chance of a potential royal bloodline and anyone would probably try and shoot their shot.
"Makes sense, but how does the cat play into this?"
The woman's lip twitched into a smile briefly.
"The cat's his familiar. He got so tired of having to fend off all the proposals that he announced a challenge: anyone who could remove the tassel from around his cat's neck would be granted his hand in marriage, and that was the only proposal he'd accept."
"Seriously?"
She shrugged.
"Drastic, but it worked. He hasn't received a proposal since. Still doesn't come into town much, but at least now he's not swamped with suitors when he does."
"So no ones caught the cat yet, huh? How long's it been?"
"About a year and half now."
Jabber whistled.
"Damn. Smart cat."
Her lips twitched into a grin again.
"You have no idea."
...
He'd waited a fortnight before going back to the cottage garden, just in case, but to his dismay the iron gate was fully closed and locked tight, probably covered in enough gnarly protection spells to stop him even if he was able to pick the lock.
And of course, sitting on top of the stone wall looking down at him, was the cat, with a look Jabber could only describe as entirely smug and self-satisfied.
Jabber sighed deeply at the locked gate, taunting him with enough gaps to see the treasures beyond but stopping him from reaching them.
He looked back up at the cat, who in response just started grooming their face with their paw, graceful and dignified, as though they were entirely ignoring him.
"Betcha feel reeeal proud 'a yourself." Jabber said, fighting back a grin at the sight.
It was not funny that this cat seemed to take petty enjoyment in his misfortune and he did not feel a slight fondness towards it for doing so.
The tassel moved as the cat switched paws to clean the other side of its face, and Jabber's eyes moved to it, watching it sway.
"So that's the marriage tassel, huh?"
The cat stopped, putting its paw down as it looked at him again, eyes squinted and ears slightly back.
Jabber held his hands up.
"Chill, I ain't gonna take it from ya. Not really my thing. Though it explains why you were so chilly when we met."
The cat stared suspiciously at him for a moment longer, before it went back to grooming.
Jabber realized something.
"Wait, you totally understand me, huh. Guessin that's cause you're a familiar or somethin?"
The cat showed absolutely no response, save for some slightly agitated movement of its tail.
Jabber snorted.
"Alright, I can take a hint. See you around, Mr. Bad Attitude."
He hummed to himself as he walked away.
So the cat could understand him...that was interesting. If he could talk to the cat, maybe he could befriend it, and if he could befriend it, maybe Jabber could convince it to let him into the garden. Or at least stop acting like a damn guard dog to the place.
Yeah, he just needed to get that cat on his side. How hard could that be?