19. Cat.
Madanach, King in Fuzz, True Lord of the Fursworn delicately groomed his tiny, fragile left paw with his small, pink tongue. Liar had been lucid enough to unlock High Hrothgar for Ma'dran and himself before she journeyed up the mountain on Shadowmere, so Madanach was contentedly warm. The nice friend, Ma'dran, had been ushered away to be interrogated by the hooded Greybeards because of a murder or something worthless like that, so Madanach was nothing but a hidden spot of darkness inside this dim yet warm monastery. He wished he were with his master, of course, as she could always be in danger, but those winds had been too strong even for him.
After all, Madanach was just a tiny, innocent kitten hiding away in the pitch darkness in which he thrived.
"Aha, there you are," that otherwordly creature, Sam Guevenne, said as he sauntered towards the supposedly hidden Madanach.
Madanach just barely bit back a hiss; he did not trust 'Sam.' There was something lurking beneath the surface, something powerful, something Daedric. It was like that drink he had given Liar the other day. Madanach had sensed the dark magic in the liquid and had stupidly tried to get his master to spit it out, only ending up under its spell himself. He had very few memories of the night before last, and that was disturbing. Madanach was not to be caught off-guard again.
"I hoped you would be back," 'Sam' said with a grin.
'Sam' sat down cross-legged in front of Madanach, who glanced around for the trusty Ma'dran. The Khajit was nowhere to be found—probably still deeper inside High Hrothgar. Madanach was alone.
"Oh, come on," 'Sam' huffed at Madanach. "I can sense what you are just as well as you can sense what I am. Give up the act for a second. I want to chat."
Madanach meowed as a tiny, innocent kitten ought to and began delicately cleaning behind his small, velvety ears.
'Sam' blew out his lips in a heavy sigh and leaned back onto his hands. "If I had to guess… you're one of Sheogorath's. Who else would send a Dremora as a kitten?"
Madanach yawned widely and folded his paws underneath himself, prepared to nap just as a tiny, innocent kitten ought to.
"Ugh, I hate resorting to such boring measures," 'Sam' sighed, "but if you don't talk to me, then I'll turn your pretty little master into an inebriated duck of pure sexual energy."
Madanach froze and slowly raised his eyes to meet 'Sam's triumphant gaze. This was no simple Daedric entity, Madanach slowly realized, and then he understood. He cursed his own stupidity for not realizing sooner: Sam Guevenne. Sanguine. Madanach was facing a potentially hostile Daedric Prince.
Madanach prepared himself, terrified as he was. He needed to keep his beloved master safe.
"That's better," Sanguine said with a smirk. "You ready to talk?" Madanach stood up and flicked his tail from side to side. He meowed loudly, and Sanguine frowned. "Don't tell me you can't… Wait, did Sheogorath actually turn you into a kitten?" he realized. "Can you not change shape?"
Madanach nodded, paused, then shook his head.
"Er… hold up," Sanguine said. He rested his palms against his knees, then took a deep breath.
Is this better? Sanguine's voice echoed through Madanach's head. Madanach yelped and looked around furiously, but Sanguine had not moved. Just think your words, Sanguine said.
Er… hello? Madanach tentatively thought.
"I knew it!" Sanguine cheered aloud, exuberantly enough that the sound hurt Madanch's sensitive ears. "Haha, that's hilarious! My little brother Sheogorath is a funny one all right."
What do you want? Madanach asked exasperatedly. Why are you interested in this at all?
"Eh, I'm not really that interested," Sanguine admitted. "I just had to confirm my hunch. It was bothering me to Oblivion and back. Hey, you should join my court," he suggested eagerly. "I could turn you back into your original form, and you can forget traipsing around in this marvelously boring world. Everyone's too scared of dragons to have parties right now… You'd think the imminent end of the world would produce the opposite effect, but humans always disappoint." Sanguine sighed heavily. "Well?" he asked. "Whaddya say?"
Never! Madanach shouted, deeply offended. I will absolutely never leave my master!
"Sheogorath?" Sanguine huffed. "He'll forget you ever existed—he's probably forgotten you already."
No, my master! Madanach snapped.
"What… the mortal?" Sanguine asked, shocked.
Of course!
"…Why? You're a Dremora. Dremora don't care about mortals."
I must protect her during her life and her death! Madanach cried.
"Ohh, I guess you can't defy my little brother's orders," Sanguine mused.
This isn't about Lord Sheogorath, Madanach hissed. This is about my master! She's amazing!
"…Huh?"
There's no one else I'd rather serve, Madanach stated.
"Huh?"
Why's this so difficult to understand? Madanach asked frustratedly. I love her!
"Aha, I see," Sanguine said with a snicker. "A Dremora and a human… Tragic, but entertaining."
Confused by Sanguine's sudden change in attitude, Madanach stared at the Prince in silence. It took a few moments of thought for Madanach to understand but, when he did, he bristled. I'm not in love, he snapped, his tail twitching from side-to-side with exasperation. I just care about her, and she cares about me!
It was Sanguine's turn to be confused, as he tilted his head to the side. "…How old are you, little Dremora?" he asked after a moment.
Madanach shuffled his paws. This will be my seventy-sixth winter since I was formed, he admitted, and Sanguine grinned.
"Ah, that makes sense," Sanguine said. "You're just a little child, not yet old enough to realize that humans exist for nothing but entertainment and power. And humans?" Sanguine scoffed. "They care about nothing but pleasure and power. That's why they love me so much."
My master isn't like that! Madanach protested furiously. She doesn't use Daedra for power! Sheogorath chose her, and she's never asked him for a thing!
"So," Sanguine said craftily, "you think the human would still give a rat's ass about you if she knew what you were?"
Madanach nodded furiously.
"So cute," Sanguine laughed. "I like you."
Madanach hissed, trying to convey that he did not return the favor.
"Hmm…" Sanguine mused, a sly smile on his lips as he watched Madanach with an intensity that chilled Madanach to the bone. "Let's make a wager," Sanguine decided, and Madanach twitched his tail nervously. "If your master ever discovers what you are yet still cares for you—by that, I mean she doesn't kill you, send you away, or even yell at you—then I'll grant her a single boon, anything within my power. If she acts like any other human would, then I take you from your little master and from Sheogorath. You'll join my court."
No, Madanach retorted.
"What, you don't trust your master?"
Of course I trust her! Madanach cried. I just know you'll find a way to twist this into your favor and maybe even hurt her!
"Oh, the adorable, naïve devotion," Sanguine sighed. "Fine, if you don't agree, then I promise I will hurt her." Madanach glared furiously, inspiring another laugh from the Prince. "Oh, don't look at me like that, kiddo," he chided good-naturedly. "I just want to have a little fun! Based on the pure chaos of last night, you all will be pretty damn fun."
Then I agree, Madanach said defeatedly, as long as you swear that you won't punish or hurt her in absolutely any way.
"I swear to it," Sanguine said with a grin of satisfaction. "Ahh, I'm so glad I found the pair of you," he said. With that, he stood up, brushed himself off, and materialized a bottle of wine. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a group of old hermits to trick into having an orgy."
Madanach curled his lip while Sanguine sauntered off, singing an old tavern song, into the depths of the monastery. When Sanguine was out of sight, Madanach huffed and sat down, curling his tail daintily over his little paws. He knew that his master would never abandon him, just as he would always protect her as well as he could in this tiny body of his. Any threats—be it dragons, Daedra, mutated pig-goats, or any other nasties—would be dead before they could touch his master.
Madanach had been nothing in Oblivion, nothing but a child, a churl—the lowest of the kynav—unimportant in his world. Madanach's true name had never been used, he had never been called upon to act, and he was barely acknowledged by the other kyn. Now, he had a purpose, someone to care for, someone to care for him. His master had given him a name the moment she saw him, and she had named him after her hero. To her, Madanach was important. To Madanach, she was important. He would happily be a kitten if it meant staying with her.
"Ah, there you are," the comforting purr of Ma'dran echoed through the empty room. "Come, you must be cold, little one."
Madanach trilled in happiness and rushed to Ma'dran, delightedly leaping into the Khajit's arms to snuggle against his chest. A purr rumbled in Madanach's throat, and he instantly began to feel drowsy. Ma'dran chuckled lightly while Madanach drifted into tiny, innocent kitten sleep, completely unmindful of what was happening in the rest of the world.