Original prompt from the Dragon Age Kink Meme (anonymous prompter):
Female Mage Hawke is painfully shy and reserved, especially around people she's attracted to. She is VERY attracted to Anders, so after getting the maps from him, she basically hides from him, avoids him, and won't speak to him when they meet by accident. He thinks she can't stand him.
Meanwhile, Hawke is a shapeshifter, who can turn into a cat. She often goes out in cat form, because she doesn't have to talk to people this way, and she feels freer and more daring when she's in disguise. Anders eventually meets Hawke in cat form, and she finds it easy to interact with him this way. She starts visiting him in his clinic as a cat, where he puts out milk and treats for her, and Anders begins to confide in her, about his daily life, the cause of the mages, and anything else he can think of. Hawke is totally in love with him by now, but still petrified by the thought of talking to him in human form.
Eventually, Hawke does get busted (how it happens is up to the writer), and she is extremely embarrassed. Anders has to convince her that he's not mad at her, and in fact, he cares for her deeply.
Bonus points for Kitty!Hawke sitting on Anders' chest and rubbing her head against his chin while purring loudly.
With Feline Grace
Prologue – A Limerick:
A woman will always prefer
a lover whose touch makes her purr.
To the one she adores,
she will go, on all fours
for the feel of their skin on her fur.
The sun had crested in the grey Harvestmere sky, poking fingers of soft light down through the tattered clouds. Vendors and townsfolk haggled noisily, while children played among stacked bales of hay. It was the first of the season's weekly Autumn Markets, and the wagons and baskets of local farmers filled Hightown to capacity, brimming with fresh fruit, vegetables, and crafts from every corner of the Free Marches.
At a corner stand, Marian Hawke stood admiring bouquets of wildflowers gathered from the Planasene Forest. The vendor, an elderly dwarf, had dozed off in his chair, leaving her to be alone with her thoughts as she admired the exquisite display of their color and form.
"They are beautiful, aren't they?"
Started from her reverie, Marian turned to see Anders behind her. The other mage was dressed in a simple linen shirt and loose trousers in place of his usual robe, holding a large sack of fresh greens to his chest with one arm. In the diffuse sunlight, his face appeared serene, bright and unblemished except for the fine stubble around his chin.
"Oh, absolutely, they are," she reined in her voice to keep it from squeaking. "Very beautiful."
She straightened and inhaled, preparing again for the agonizing ritual of small talk. "So, doing some shopping?"
"Yes... some Catswort for my feline visitors... Wildervale mushrooms... and enough spices and herbs to keep my soups and sauces palatable throughout the winter."
…and, he cooks, She said to herself. Of course, he cooks.
Anders continued, his expression warmer now. "It's nice to see you out again, Marian. I've hardly seen you at all since the Deep Roads."
"Ah, well, yes. Just recovering from the rigors of the expedition, that's all."
In truth, she had been trying to avoid him ever since they returned to Kirkwall, though she had not been even a little bit successful at keeping the thought of him out of her mind.
"Oh, are you not well?" He looked concerned. "It's not uncommon to have nightmares or bouts of depression after coming back from down there; such problems were well known to the Wardens. My healing magic is not so effective against maladies of the mind, of course... but I do always offer a friendly ear, if you should need one."
Anders smiled gently as a ray of sunlight broke suddenly across his features. Looking upon him, Marian felt a gentle heat spread within her, lingering even after the clouds shifted to hide the sun again.
"Thank you, that is most kind... but I am in good health, I assure you".
They continued to chat about the vendors and stalls that they had so far visited, while she fidgeted, tracing circles upon the cobblestones with her foot. As Anders talked, Marian stole glances over his shoulders, scanning the crowd nervously. To one side, there was a flash of short, red locks; Aveline and Donnic were slowly making their way through the market as well. In the distance behind the pair, she could also clearly see a familiar blue headscarf above a mane of long black hair.
Marian panicked, suddenly wanting to be somewhere else. She was anxious enough talking to Anders on her own; the last thing she needed at this moment was an audience.
"Well! Anders... it's been nice catching up with you..." the words came out too quickly, before she could stop them, and then it was too late. "... I'll see you around, then!"
She whirled and walked off hurriedly, before she would have any chance to notice the expression on his face.
Alone that night in her room, Marian stared blankly into the dregs of an empty wine glass. Despite the coals in a brazier by her desk, the Amell Mansion remained stubbornly cold, as if not yet willing to shelter tenants once again. On her desk, a candle flickered weakly against the chill.
She tried to make sense of her feelings for Anders, of her inability to speak or think clearly whenever he was near. It was barely tolerable while traveling upon the Deep Roads, when her burgeoning desire for him became an unwelcome distraction, making her giddy with hope when she should have been thoroughly preoccupied with death. She had had to keep their exchanges to a minimum, limited mainly to life and death matters: barking out orders to him during battles; giving him terse instructions during the downtime. Fortunately there were always tasks and distractions to occupy them, and other companions for her to hide behind.
After they returned to Kirkwall, however, their meetings became more nerve-wracking for her. Without the expedition or its preparation over their heads, they were free to talk whenever, about whatever they wanted. Marian felt her emotions coming to the forefront each time, and tried to compensate by cutting their conversations short, always finding reasons to run off early.
She knew that her encounter with Anders in the market today was a sign of things to come: they would continue to meet and talk, and their friends would notice, and take an active interest in their relationship. The pressure upon her would build, until she crumbled under the weight of so many expectations.
Eventually he'll see what a mess I am, and that will be the end of it, she mused bitterly.
Why was she feeling this way about him? She had been with men before, but none aroused such emotions as Anders had within her: curiosity about his harbored spirit; respect for his dedication to healing the sick...
… and lust, for his brown eyes, for the tight corners of his mouth...
As the wine coursed through her, she remembered the delightful magical exercise that she used to perform on evenings like this, whenever she needed an escape from herself. She had learned it as a young girl from a Korcari witch, and then subsequently taught it to Bethany – Maker rest her poor soul. Marian had yet to cast the spell again in Kirkwall since her sister's death; she didn't think she would ever be able to amuse herself that way again, without a companion. But perhaps tonight was as good a night as any to try.
She went to open her bedroom door a bit first, and then loosed her robe, letting it fall about her feet. The cold seized upon her bare skin, but she ignored it, knowing that it would not bother her much longer. With her eyes closed, she concentrated, picturing the form of a black cat within her mind.
Slowly and carefully, she enunciated:
Shape will shift, and outline blur
over flanks of silken fur.
Eyes will glow in whiskered face,
footsteps fall with feline grace.
She felt herself sink into the floor, as if floating gently downwards. Her body fell forward, and she saw her outstretched hands shrink and curl as they reached towards the rug in front of her. Muscles tightened over her frame, and she was aware of a powerful strength coiling within her legs. The colors of the room, previously muted in the glow of the coals and candlelight, seemed to explode into her eyes; shadows now swirled vividly at the edge of her vision.
She stepped out of her piled clothing, and crawled – or did she glide? – over to her full length mirror...
…and saw a black cat with blue eyes staring back at her.
Marian stretched her back and her limbs, preening before her reflection, wondering why she didn't do this sort of thing more often. She felt sexy and sleek, emphatically feminine. Her limber frame seemed full of boundless energy.
She bolted through the crack of the opened door and down the stairs, tail flailing behind her as she ran. Everyone in the mansion was asleep except Hebus, the family mabari. Having seen Marian and Bethany assume this form many times before in Lothering, he simply growled, unimpressed.
She squeezed through an open window, leaping out into the night.
Marian took a moment to adjust to the flood of sensations now upon her. Though she knew it to be almost midnight, she could pick out every detail of the streets around her as if it were noonday. She was also keenly aware of the distinct odor of each passing person or animal. What was most disorienting was that her large ears seemed to gather up every stray noise in the night: a chattering behind shuttered windows; a footfall upon paved stones; rats skittering away from her in the dark.
She growled confidently, exulting in her new abilities. A stiff breeze rippled through her fur, and yet she felt only a light tickle. In this form, the night belonged to her. Moving effortlessly over the ground, she scampered from shadow to shadow, dodging the moonlight on her way to Lowtown.
Turning down a small alley, she heard a familiar Rivaini accent in the darkness; Isabela was flirting seductively with a man in Templar armor. Marian froze in her tracks and reversed, opting for a different route.
She passed by the docks, where Varric and Merrill were sitting together on the pier by the water's edge. The dwarf was gesturing up at the night sky, thick smoke curling from his pipe. From her low angle near the the ground, her friends seemed immense in the darkness. Marian crept up behind them to eavesdrop, and noted that the timbre of Varric's voice seemed fuller and richer now to her feline ears.
"That group of stars is named Andoral, after the Archdemon. It's never above the horizon during the same time of year as the constellation Garahel. They chase each other through the night sky."
Merrill hadn't seemed to care for the lecture, and noticed their new visitor instantly. "Oh! Aren't you just the cutest!" The elf scooped the cat up in her arms, cradling her against the soft folds of her shawl. Marian senses were overwhelmed; the smell of the forest flooded over her, and lilting elven speech filled her ears.
Ah, da'vhenan...coo-coo coo...
"Well, Daisy, you seem to have made a new friend".
Merrill cradled Marian's tiny head in her thin hands, nuzzling it with her nose. It was obvious that the mage had owned a cat - or at least some small animal - when she had lived among the Dalish.
"Precious thing! We should take her to Anders. He does love cats."
Anders! Marian suddenly remembered his comments at the market about entertaining strays. A bold idea came to her, and she swelled with anticipation. She leapt from Merrill's arms and sprinted toward Darktown, the elf's voice trailing after her in the night.
"Oh! Be safe, little one!"
Marian made her way to Ander's apartment in Darktown and leapt up to perch upon the sill of an opened window. The mage was writing at a table in his kitchen, his back turned to her, still wearing his robes from the day. There was a fragrance of grease and herbs wafting from the pots upon the stove, and an oil lamp cast a friendly glow upon the room.
Two stray cats lay on the floor near him, but when Marian descended into the room, they mewed and slinked away into a corner, sensing her alien nature. The commotion caught Anders' attention.
"Well, hello! I've not seen you here before…" He knelt to greet her, and held out a giant hand for her to smell; the aroma of spiced meat suggested that he had just finished supper. "Aren't you adorable!"
She felt hopelessly small before his enormous frame. As he bent over her tiny form, his face and shoulders occupied her entire field of vision, looming before her like the night sky. She sat back on her haunches and stared at him, mewing in awe.
No, Anders...it is you who are so terribly adorable, she thought to herself.
He verified her gender with a glance, and then searched her neck, finding no collar. "Perhaps I shall call you Midnight, after your color, and the hour of your appearance?" Reflexively, she opened her mouth and tried to answer him, but all that came out was a series of meows.
"Midnight it is, then. I'm sorry that there are no more leftovers for you at this late hour… but I do still have some warm milk". He filled a small dish from a pitcher on his table, and set it down for her, stroking her furry black head as she lapped at it hungrily. In this form, to her heightened senses, the simple milk smelled and tasted as rich as anything the cafes in Hightown had to offer.
The two strays jumped up to leave the kitchen through the open window. "The others seem to be afraid of you," he smiled. "I certainly do know what that feels like… so, it seems we just might be a good match for each other after all."
Anders sat back upon his chair, and she instinctively hopped up onto his lap. He stroked her back and flanks as she lay sprawled across his thighs, warmed by his body through the thin fabric of his robes. She felt a curious energy within his fingertips, magical in nature, and surmised that the spirit, Justice, must be stirring inside him. The sensation subsided, and she allowed herself to relax beneath his tender caress.
"You have such a lovely coat," he said, almost whispering. "I wonder why none of the male cats in Kirkwall seem to have followed you here tonight."
Marian stretched out upon his lap, purring contentedly. The motion of Ander's hand against her fur had a hypnotic effect on her, and she drifted into a blissful state of semi-consciousness. It was a feeling arguably better than sex; every bit of her small feline form, from her whiskers to her tail, was warmed by his touch, soothed by his gentle fingers.
Her anxiety dissipated, and she opened her mouth to speak all the thoughts in her heart, secure in the knowledge that Anders would hear nothing but feline noises.
Maker... please allow me to lie here upon this man's lap, under his face and his hands, forever...
She lost track of the time, and eventually Anders broke the silence. "I should finish my work now, little Midnight. But there will always be a dish of milk here for you... and next time, I will be sure to cook an extra helping of dinner for us as well." He reached for his quill and resumed his writing as she dropped from his lap onto the floor.
Marian was touched by Anders' apparent loneliness, how he fed and talked to his stray cats as if they were other people. Perhaps they were a good fit after all. For her, it was easier to interact with him this way; she had his complete attention, and wasn't required to say or do anything in return, except for purring and cuddling.
She sat on his floor, waving her tail as she watched him dutifully complete his clinic notes for the day. After he finished, he blew out the lamp and headed towards his bedroom.
"You may sleep here, if you like. Or at least, return for a visit tomorrow night".
Stay the night at Anders'? The boldness of the suggestion frightened her. Marian shot through the open kitchen window, and raced through the streets back to her estate.
"Ah well. Take care, Midnight!"
Back in her bedroom, she reverted to human form and reveled in the unexpected success of her evening, laughing through tears of joy.
Over the next fortnight, Marian went to see Anders every night in his apartment, or in the clinic if he was still working late.
Whenever she saw him at work, she was impressed by his compassionate manner, and the way he listened to the sick and the wounded, absorbing their compliments and their complaints with equal grace. But inevitably the last patient would depart, leaving the kind healer alone in his small apartment – alone, save for his cats. How could The Maker allow such a generous man to spend his nights by himself? She saw it as her duty to keep him company.
In return, Anders treated her to all the food and drink she could wish for. With the other stray cats scared away, she was now his only dining companion, and the sole recipient of his leftovers. His stews and lightly spiced meats, enhanced by her feline senses, were easily the best of any cooking that she had ever tasted.
After several visits, she worked up enough courage to stay with him until morning. Some nights she slept huddled in a ball at the foot of his bed; other nights, she would creep through his apartment and try to learn more about him, studying his belongings, and his kitchen, and the spines of his books. At the crack of dawn, she would race home and reverse the shapeshift, reluctantly resuming her life as a human.
For the first time since the Hawkes' flight from Lothering, Marian felt truly content, and settled into a stable routine. She dragged herself through each day half-heartedly, longing for sundown and the freedom that it would bring, keen to visit her love once again.
However, though her nights were exhilarating, her days were terribly difficult. Her regular body now seemed graceless, her human speech halting and clumsy. The lids of her tired eyes were ringed with dark circles. She neglected her duties to friends and family, and unanswered letters piled up on her desk. Feeling increasingly awkward in her human form – thanks in part to the weight she had gained in that Darktown kitchen – she began avoiding Anders, as well as her other companions, almost entirely.
An unsettling thought occurred to her: if she remained by Anders' side forever, as Midnight, would anyone even miss Marian?
Fortunately, winter had begun. Her social withdrawal coincided with the colder weather and shorter days of the season, and went almost unnoticed.
The weekend before the Wintermarch holiday, Marian arrived at Anders' place, and found him in a sullen mood. He brightened a little at the sight of her.
"Ah, Midnight... come in. Are you alone as well this fine weekend?"
He set down a bowl of fish soup for her. She sipped at it, but found that it had been over-salted.
A bottle of brandy was half full on Anders' table. He had been drinking, and his cheeks were flushed, his eyes teary. A thin night robe was draped loosely over his shoulders. She jumped up onto his lap again, and he sat stroking her for a long while before finally speaking, massaging her as he talked.
"You know... we mages are a lot like cats ourselves... mysterious, secretive creatures... stubborn in our ways... and so often solitary..." he flashed a wan smile. "... the last one not always by choice, of course".
Marian's heart wrenched within her chest as Anders continued.
"Why has she been avoiding me, Midnight? Everything I do seems to push her even further away... I've even written her letters, and dropped them off with Bodahn..."
He leaned closer, stroking her small chin with a finger. "Maybe I should send you out upon your little cat-feet to spy on Marian for me. Then you can report back to me, and let me know if I should even continue to bother".
As she realized that he was talking about her, she was seized by a terrible urge to speak to him as a human, to take him in her arms and reassure him. Her chest heaved, as if she were beginning to cry, and she realized with horror that these strong emotions were threatening her hold on the shapeshifting spell. She flew from his lap and crouched under a cabinet, trying desperately to maintain her concentration.
"Ah! Now I've depressed you too." Anders got up and headed towards his bedroom. "As clear a signal as any that it's time now to bring this day to an end."
Once Marian had finally regained control over herself, she crept into Anders' room. The mage had fallen asleep quickly on his bed, his night robe peeled open slightly upon his chest.
She got up on the bed and climbed upon him, tucking her head comfortably just beneath his chin, rubbing her teats against his bare chest. His warmth spread quickly through her small body; his heartbeat drummed a duet with her own.
With some sadness, she noted that this was the most significant, prolonged contact yet between his body and hers, and possibly the most intimate interaction she might ever have with him. Purring softly, she tried to will herself to sleep.
Suddenly, she felt a familiar sensation, a magical vibration beneath Anders' skin – but this time, instead of dying down, it quickly grew in intensity.
Marian's eyes opened wide with fear as a single thought flashed into her mind.
Justice recognizes me.
She flew from the bed and sprinted for the open kitchen window.
Simultaneously, Anders sat bolt upright in bed, a single word upon his lips.
"... Marian?"
But she was already gone.
In her room, Marian paced anxiously, awaiting the inevitable. There was a knock on the door.
"Madame? Anders is here to see you."
She told Bodahn to let him in, and stood trembling, her back towards the door. A lone candle threw her nervous shadow upon the wall.
He entered, and she heard him close the door and move to stand a few paces behind her. After an interminable silence, he spoke softly.
"Hello, Marian. I... I guess Justice is a little bit harder to fool than I am..."
Even with her back turned, Marian could feel him smiling politely as he said that. She hesitated before answering, fearing her voice would break.
"Anders…you must think me terribly silly… these past few weeks... "
"I'm not upset, only curious... an explanation would be nice. Was it a game, or a joke? Did you – "
"No! No, Anders, of course not..." She turned to face him; he had a wool coat on over his robes, and his face was still pink from the alcohol and the cold.
Marian stood as if on the edge of a precipice, meeting his gaze with a solemn resolve. This, then, would be the end of her nocturnal adventures, and of their relationship – if it could even be called that. Perhaps, in the end, it was for the best. She made up her mind to speak quickly, just to be done with it, and get on with her life.
"Well, it was just easier… I thought it would be fun, at first, to help me get comfortable
with you, to get to know you... but then, it was so relaxing to sit and watch you... not to have to talk…"
Her tears started to flow, and she closed her eyes. "I just... wanted to be with you, Anders, and be close to you… and not screw it all up horribly, like i'm doing now. It just felt safer, that way, for me... and you were so lone... er, well, you seemed so lonely to me... it just felt right. I wanted to make you feel better... "
Anders hung his coat on a chair and came forward, taking her hands in his. His gentle expression shimmered in the candlelight.
"Marian, believe me... I do know what it's like, to feel awkward in one's own skin… though, I can't possibly fathom why such an enchanting woman as yourself should have any reason to feel uncomfortable in hers."
He caressed her face, drying the tears on her cheek. "It is true, I have been lonely... because I have been missing you. The human you. I'm flattered – and very excited, actually – that you want to be with me… but I'd like to be able to enjoy your company too. I want to be able to touch your face, and hear your voice".
She smiled, and looked down at their clasped hands as he went on.
"You know, it hasn't been easy for me here… living as a mage in Kirkwall, with Justice… running a clinic… Marian, you have been the only bright spot in my life that I've had to look forward to, all these months. So it was painful for me, to think that you were running away from me all this time."
Anders sighed before continuing.
"I was hoping that in the end, I'd at least wind up chasing you towards someone who might make you happy. Then perhaps I would have that to feel good about."
Her heart seemed to swell until it filled her entire chest, and her pulse bounded in her ears. She looked into his eyes, all her insecurities fading quickly into memory.
"Anders... can you ever forgive me?"
He grinned. "Well... you have me at a disadvantage, currently. I assume you must already know all there is to know about me... so, I have quite a bit of catching up to do, when it comes to learning everything about you."
Marian returned his smile, and it was as if morning had broken in the candlelit room. "No more running away, then... I promise."
They entwined, and kissed – softly at first, and then fervently, as their passions aroused within them. Robes and shirts and smallclothes slid silently from their bodies, dropping into loose piles onto the floor around them. She circled her arms around the small of his back, and melted cozily into his embrace.
Marian closed her eyes and pretended for one last time that she was a cat, imagining vividly the smell of him in her nose, the feel of him against her whiskers and fur. The moment passed, and she perceived anew the humanness in her that had languished before: eyes and lips to lock onto his; a voice to speak from her heart; arms strong enough to hold him close, and never let go.
With a quick and magical flourish of her hand, the candle blew itself out.
It was a dark night at the end of Wintermarch, and there was not a soul upon the streets. Earlier, the first winter storm had blanketed Hightown in great drifts of snow. The stone facades of the noble houses were dusted in white, their holiday decorations twisting in the gentle breeze.
A black cat jumped from the window of a mansion and landed in a soft bank of powder – followed, a moment later, by an orange tabby.
The two cats huddled against each other briefly in the moonlight before setting off side by side, paw prints trailing behind them in the lambent snow.
Fin