Elder Son

By Dream Painter

Summary: Everyone knew Deuteronomy's two sons, but how much did anyone really know about the elder one?

Chapter One

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The tribe assembled in the main clearing, a buzz of excitement in the air. Even the mice risked lurking in the shadows of the surrounding junk in order to hear the news. At any moment, Deuteronomy would arrive to announce who would eventually succeed him as leader of the tribe.

Deuteronomy had two sons in the tribe, perhaps his only sons. He had other children living in other places with their mothers or on their own, but only three of them, all queens, had ever come to visit him.

No one was thinking of Deuteronomy's other children, however, as all attention was currently focused on the two toms seated before the tire. The younger, a striped silver tabby who was the striking image of his father, was called Munkustrap. He was the son of Deuteronomy's last wife, who had died due to complications shortly after Munkustrap was born. A rather serious young tom, Munkustrap had become an adult at the last Jellicle Ball.

The elder son looked nothing like Deuteronomy, with his sleek black coat and leopard spotted mane, nor did he share his brother's reflective nature. He had been named Rum Tum Tugger, undoubtedly by the mother he clearly resembled. No one seemed to know anything about her, only that she had left her son with Deuteronomy while Munkustrap was still a small kitten. Full of mischief, and not a little flirtatious, Tugger easily wormed his way into the hearts of young and old alike.

"It's Deuteronomy!" someone finally called out. And indeed, it was. Deuteronomy was striking figure, larger than many of the other Jellicles, his silver coat grizzled with gray, his kindly eyes wise with the many years he had already lived.

"It'll be Tugger," declared an Abyssinian, an adolescent by the name of Cassandra.

"Of course, it'll be Tugger," scoffed Asparagus, also called Rag, himself a young copy of his grandfather, Gus. "He's eldest. Besides, anyone could tell he's Old D's favorite."

"Shh!" warned Alonzo, nodding towards Rag's aunt Jellylorum, a calico who really wasn't that much older than him. She was gazing at him from Gus's side, as though trying to think of something wrong with what he'd said. Apparently unable to disagree with his assessment, however, she returned her attention to the front where Deuteronomy was ascending the tire.

"Heaviside, I hope she gets over being bossy soon," Rag muttered darkly to his peers. "She used to be kinda cool."

"Don't count on it," advised Plato. "She's been watching the kittens a lot – she's only gonna get bossier." Rag ducked his head with a sigh. He was probably right.

"I can't see!" whined a small black kitten with a white face and three white paws. He was jumping up and down trying to see over the heads of the cats in front of him. The tom beside him gazed down at him for a moment. He was rather large, though, not so much in height as in girth, his own black and white coat making him appear as though he were wearing a tuxedo.

"You must be little Mistoffelees," he said.

The kitten stopped jumping, shrinking sheepishly. "Whatever it was, I didn't do it on purpose!" Mistoffelees exclaimed.

"I'm sure you didn't!" the older cat laughed. "Shall I help you up onto this box so you can see?"

Mistoffelees perked up. "Would you?"

"Of course!" he declared, for Bustopher Jones had long since learned that a bit of kindness would go a long way. "Up you go."

At the front of clearing, Deuteronomy had taken his place upon the tire and turned to face his fellow Jellicles. "As all of you know," he addressed them in a warm, mellow voice, "it is time for me to announce who will follow in my footsteps as tribe leader. Rum Tum Tugger, Munkustrap, please stand."

The two younger toms rose to their feet and the crowd tensed in anticipation. Deuteronomy's gaze rested a long time on Tugger, and then a moment on Munkustrap. Finally, he looked out over the crowd who waited expectantly for him to continue.

"The one who will take my place, should anything happen to me or when the time comes that I step down from my role as leader, and who will henceforth serve as my second in command," he told them, his gaze flitting momentarily to Tugger, "is Munkustrap."

Silence reigned. Everyone was surprised, and none more than Munkustrap himself.

Not a sound was made until Mistoffelees tugged at Bustopher's ear. "I thought it was s'posed to be Tugger?" he whispered loudly, his voice carrying clearly across the clearing.

"Congratulations, Munkus," Tugger spoke a moment later, clapping the younger tom on the shoulder as murmuring broke out amidst the crowd.

"But..." Munkustrap started in confusion, looking from Deuteronomy to Tugger and back again. "Father? I – shouldn't..? I mean, I thought..."

"That will all for today," announced Deuteronomy, stepping down from the tire. He put a paw on Munkustrap's shoulder. "I know you'll do your best, son."

As his father left, the tabby found himself surrounded by Jellicles offering him their congratulations, while those farther off whispered aloud the very questions which filled his own mind. Why had his father picked him? And why had his brother taken it so well? Munkustrap turned, a question already formed on his lips, only to find that Tugger was no longer beside him. Looking around quickly, he caught sight of the older tom just as he was leaving the clearing. Dismissing himself, Munkustrap ran after him.

"Tugger!" he called out. Tugger paused to look back at him. Munkustrap opened his mouth, but couldn't think of what to say.

"Did you need something?" Tugger finally asked.

"Are you alright?" the younger tom blurted.

Tugger snorted. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well... I mean, you're older. You should be the next leader."

"Can you really picture me as leader? Seems like it'd be a bit disastrous to me."

"You'd make a fine leader!" Munkustrap protested.

"But you'd make a better one," Tugger countered. "Our father knows that."

Munkustrap frowned, mulling this over, his expression clearly stating that he disagreed. "Why are you taking this so well?" he questioned. "Didn't you think it'd be you? Didn't you always expect to follow in dad's footsteps?"

"No," Tugger answered. "I always knew it'd be you."

For a moment, Munkustrap thought he spotted a hint of something he couldn't identify in his brother's eyes. Hurt? Jealousy? Sadness, maybe? Before he could decide, Tugger's face broke into his typical grin.

"If you would excuse me, Mr. Second-in-Command, Leader-to-be, I've got some mischief to cause," he winked conspiratorially before continuing on his way back to the humans whose house he had adopted as his home away from the Junkyard.

Munkustrap stared after him long after he had disappeared from sight. Like everyone else, he had always believed that Tugger would be the next leader. Now, he was at a loss. He didn't know what confused him more: his father's decision or the way Tugger seemed to accept it without question. It didn't track – his brother was more competitive than that.

That isn't where the story ended, of course, but then again, it's not where it began, either...

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To be continued...

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