Tommen Baratheon and Margaery Tyrell would like to invite you to the wedding of Ser Pounce and Lady Whiskers.
“Lady Whiskers needs a bridal cloak, Your Grace, for a proper wedding,” Margaery said softly.
Tommen hesitated only for a moment before snatching a green handkerchief of silk and lace and tying it around Lady Whiskers’ neck. The kitten writhed and wriggled, desperate to get free.
“Is Ser Pounce a Tyrell?” Margaery asked, stroking Ser Pounce’s neck as he warily watched his intended bride.
“No, Ser Pounce is a Baratheon, like me. Lady Whiskers is a Tyrell, like you,” Tommen replied, still trying to keep Lady Whiskers in his arms. “Hush, my lady. You must not frighten your bridegroom.”
Margaery giggled. “She’s not really a lady.”
“She is. Everyone is a lady from birth. Ser Pounce is not really a ser though, because he has not done his brave deeds and rescue children and maidens.”
“He rescued that poor mouse from Lady Whiskers’ mouth,” Margaery said.
“No,” Tommen said, “he just wanted his mouse back. Ser Pounce caught the mouse, but Lady Whiskers stole it from him.”
“But then the mouse escaped from them both. What a clever, clever mouse,” Margaery purred.
In truth, the mouse had a helping hand, or rather it had two helping hands from Margaery and Tommen to escape the clutches of Ser Pounce and Lady Whiskers. “No, no, that’s not your wedding feast,” Tommen scolded his kittens. “You can have fish later,” Margaery promised the happy couple. “And milk too.”
“Mother said Ser Pounce must learn to defend his rights, because the weak are always victims to the strong. But Lady Whiskers will never do anything to hurt Ser Pounce, will she?” Tommen asked, looking and sounding anxious.
“Of course not,” Margaery assured the boy, her royal husband. “Lady Whiskers will love and protect her husband, always.”
“Like you will, Margaery?” Tommen asked, with all the guilelessness of an eight-year-old boy.
Margaery gifted Tommen a kiss, a chaste, fleeting peck on the cheek, light and airy. “Like I will, my king. I promise.”
With Tommen distracted by the kiss, Lady Whiskers finally succeeded in her effort to escape from Tommen’s restraining hands to jump into Margaery’s lap. Ser Pounce was not best pleased to be sharing the warm and comforting space with another kitten, and he started growling loudly to show his displeasure. One scornful, withering look from Lady Whiskers was enough to silence him, however, and Ser Pounce crept meekly and quietly away, straight into Tommen’s welcoming arms.
“Should we start the ceremony?” Margaery asked, smiling.
“Yes!” Tommen replied enthusiastically.
They brought the two kittens closer together. “With this kiss I pledge my love,” Margaery said.
“With this kiss I pledge my love,” Tommen echoed.
But when they tried to make Ser Pounce and Lady Whiskers kiss to seal the vow, the newly-married couple resisted strenuously - claws were flexed and teeth were bared, among other things. “They’re just shy, in front of us,” Margaery said, kissing Lady Whiskers’ head.
Tommen nodded. “They will kiss and make lots and lots of babies later, when no one is watching,” he said, tickling Ser Pounce’s stomach. “We’ll have to think of names to give the little baby kittens.“
Aries: Chairman Meow
Gemini: Senor Don Gato
Leo: Xerxes IX
Virgo: Guy Furry
Libra: Conductor Whiskers
Scorpio: Lady Meow-Meow
Sagittarius: Mrs. Fortune
Capricorn: Mr. Meowgi
Aquarius: Billy the Kitten