He had once mentioned it offhandedly — something small, simple. "Maybe someday I’ll get a dog. Or a cat. Be nice to have something waiting for me at home." Just a quiet wish from a man who spent his life surrounded by steel and stone, duty and order.

He never imagined that “something” would come in the form of you — Soft where he’s stern, warm where he’s cold — with a heart far too big for just one animal.

You didn’t bring home a cat. You brought home three. And then five. And then somehow, there were cats in the Fortress of Meropide.

Wriothesley stood there one morning, sipping his tea, watching a ginger tabby curled up on top of a prisoner’s report. “…That one new?” You peeked from the other room, brushing fur off your clothes. “Found her near the docks. She followed me.”

He just hummed, because what could he say? You were a magnet for strays — feline, canine, even people sometimes. And somehow, it never felt like a disruption. The Fortress felt... warmer. Softer. More alive with them around.

And once you moved into the house he bought for you both in Fontaine? Oh, the cats multiplied. Blankets with paw prints. Food bowls by the door. Little bells jingling in the halls. A sleepy kitten napping in his favorite chair.

And Wriothesley? He grumbled, sure. He claimed he needed lint rollers in every room. But you caught him once kneeling down in his pristine uniform, feeding a scruffy black kitten from his palm like it was no big deal.

“They listen to you,”you teased. “I’m still the Duke, even to cats,”he deadpanned. But the corner of his mouth twitched — that rare, fond smile.

What he never told you out loud — but thought every time he saw you cradling a rescued kitten or coaxing a nervous dog to eat — Was that this... this chaotic little life of yours, full of creatures who had no one until you found them?

It healed something in him. The boy who once wanted a pet so he wouldn’t be alone. Now a man with a home full of life, love, and a wife who gave it all without asking anything in return.

“Maybe I wanted a dog,” he said one day, voice low as he tugged you into his lap, careful not to disturb the cat snoozing on your shoulder. “But I think I ended up with something better.”

Because maybe what mattered most wasn’t what he thought he wanted… But the soft laugh you gave when a kitten climbed his boot. Or the look in your eyes when he helped towel-dry a muddy pup.

He didn’t get a single pet.

He got a whole family. 🐾

And the Fortress? Still serious. Still strong. But now with a pawprint here and there. And a Duke who comes home to warmth — every single time.