Fic: Gifts
Rather than just a filling today, I got a tooth out and it hurts like an almighty bitch. So. Have some fluff. A wonder this doesn't drive me to angst really.
Title: Gifts
Fandom: Dragon Age 2
Characters: M!Hawke/Anders, Whiskers,
Summary: Whiskers discovers a way out of the estate and brings gifts back for Hawke and Anders. Hawke is unappreciative.
It started out small enough, bugs in his slippers that he would find almost every morning when slipping them on. It never fails to send him scrambling over to Anders' side of the bed, crashing into the mage and waking him. Of course it's always the nights that Anders does get some sleep and is not bothered by Grey Warden dreams, never the nights when both are awoken several times.
The cat is never far away, looking proud of her accomplishment. Hawke is unimpressed, while Anders coos, coos over dead worms, and tells the cat what a clever kitty she is. Hawke mutters something under his breath, leaves Anders with the cat and takes his slippers to Bodahn yet again for washing.
He's never quite sure just how Whiskers has managed to get out, Anders has told him not to let her out just yet. He's checked the windows, checked the Darktown entrance, all of them are locked and really there shouldn't be any way for her to get out. Yet she does, and every time she brings back a dead worm. That sets Anders off talking to the cat in a silly voice. He wonders if he did the same with Ser Pounce-A-Lot and how the other Wardens put up with it.
By mid-morning, it's just him and his mother in the house, Anders at the clinic as usual. The dog is following his mother around, the cat...he's not quite sure. He thinks he should probably find it, her, in case Anders panics. They've already had that crisis when Whiskers disappeared for a few hours and they found her in a cupboard asleep among some old clothes and blankets.
He wanders the house, checks the windows, checks the doors and ends up finding the dog instead. Damian at least is only too glad to help him in his search, Mother has retreated to her room and the dog now has nothing to do. Damian follows him faithfully through the house and eventually, Hawke has to give up. Somehow Whiskers has got out again and gone Maker knows where.
He goes to his room, Damian still following and there is Whiskers, pawing at a dead mouse. She sees him, picks up the rodent and presents it at Hawke's feet. Her tail swishes from side to side and she raises her head to stare at him.
Damian makes a noise and starts to sniff at it.
"Leave it alone," he tells the dog, then looks back to at the cat. "Not that it's not...a nice gesture...or something." He's unsure. He's never been a cat person, always had Damian. Anders said something that this meant Whiskers liked them, so he tries, really tries, to accept the dead, sliced open mouse graciously. Somehow.
He kneels down, scratches behind Whiskers' ears and she rubs against his hand. She's quite happy now that her 'gift' has been accepted and she wanders out of the room. Hawke looks at the dog then picks up the mouse to dispose of it.
~~~
Anders comes home that evening, finds Hawke sitting on the floor, back pressed against his bed. He has his eyes closed, doesn't know Anders is there until he clears his throat to get Hawke's attention. He opens his eyes and gestures for Anders to join him. He does so, reaching the bed and is promptly pulled to the floor, landing with a thump.
"Careful there, love," he tells Hawke, then lays his head on Hawke's shoulder.
Hawke doesn't say anything, puts his arm around Anders' shoulders and pulls him closer.
They sit for a while, quiet, content, until the sound of Damian's barking interrupts. Hawke sighs, mutters something about the dog and goes to get up. Anders stops him.
"Just leave it, he'll lose interest in whatever it is," he tells Hawke.
Hawke agrees and settles once more.
The dog doesn't lose interest, he keeps barking, until finally Whiskers runs into the room. For her offering this evening, she has a bird, dead thankfully, and she drops it on Anders's lap. Within seconds, Hawke has scampered over to the other side of the bed and glares at the cat.
"Can you not train her or something?" he says, now split between glaring at the cat and staring at the dead, bloodied bird.
"You can't train a cat. She's not like your mabari, she's smarter than him," Anders tells him, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world. He turns to Whiskers. "Aren't you girl? Yes, you are. And this is a lovely gift."
"It's a dead bird. We'll be cleaning up feathers and blood for hours."
"You're exaggerating, it won't take long."
Hawke rolls his eyes.
He gets up from the floor to find some cloth or something to wrap the bird in and leaves the bedroom. The door to his mother's room opens and he turns to find her there.
"Everything all right, darling?" she says.
He nods. "Fine, Mother. The cat brought a bird in and Anders thinks it's wonderful that the cat is giving us dead things."
"I heard that!" comes the indignant response.
"Good!"
Mother looks torn between being amused at the exchange or scolding him for something. He's not sure what, but he knows she'll find something.
"So I shouldn't mention Damian's habit of bringing dead rabbits in and you reacting in a similar manner," she tells him.
He can feel a blush creep onto his cheeks. "No, you shouldn't. Besides, I was much younger." He knows that's not much of an excuse, still, it's an excuse, he's sticking to it.
His mother smiles and thankfully drops the subject. "There's some cloth in the kitchen you can use."
He nods and wanders off to find it.
He gets back to the bedroom, wraps up the bird, which is now on the floor in the middle of the room, then takes it back out, intending on dealing with it properly in the morning.
When he returns to the room for a second time, he finds Whiskers on the bed, Anders with her and Damian sitting on the floor, his head resting on the bed.
"That cat has no sense of timing," Hawke says, then lies down on the bed also.
"You're not going to complain all night, are you?" Anders answers. The cat climbs over Anders's legs, deciding Hawke is far more interesting.
"Yes. Can't you tell her not to do that?"
"She's a cat, she'll do what she wants, when she wants."
"Never have this problem with a mabari."
Damian barks in agreement.
"Other than being slobbered on and them demanding your attention."
"Oh? And what's this one doing right now?"
They both look to Whiskers who is currently curled up on Hawke's legs.
"Well she's not slobbering."
Hawke rolls his eyes. "We're not going to agree, are we?"
Anders chuckles slightly. "No, love, we're not."
They agree to disagree and Anders cleans up the blood and feathers before he leaves for the clinic. Whiskers, as is becoming her habit now, disappears for another few hours and brings in another dead mouse. Hawke sighs, but can't really bring himself to be annoyed at her. She is, in her own way, being affectionate, sort of, and he can't really fault her that. It's merely something else he has to get used to, and, as he reminds himself, if she makes Anders happy then he can tolerate the cat, perhaps even like her.
Though he'll not admit to that part.
My mouth still hurts and I have college in the morning. Joy. Might skive off at lunchtime mind you, grab whatever work I need to do and do it at home.
Title: Gifts
Fandom: Dragon Age 2
Characters: M!Hawke/Anders, Whiskers,
Summary: Whiskers discovers a way out of the estate and brings gifts back for Hawke and Anders. Hawke is unappreciative.
It started out small enough, bugs in his slippers that he would find almost every morning when slipping them on. It never fails to send him scrambling over to Anders' side of the bed, crashing into the mage and waking him. Of course it's always the nights that Anders does get some sleep and is not bothered by Grey Warden dreams, never the nights when both are awoken several times.
The cat is never far away, looking proud of her accomplishment. Hawke is unimpressed, while Anders coos, coos over dead worms, and tells the cat what a clever kitty she is. Hawke mutters something under his breath, leaves Anders with the cat and takes his slippers to Bodahn yet again for washing.
He's never quite sure just how Whiskers has managed to get out, Anders has told him not to let her out just yet. He's checked the windows, checked the Darktown entrance, all of them are locked and really there shouldn't be any way for her to get out. Yet she does, and every time she brings back a dead worm. That sets Anders off talking to the cat in a silly voice. He wonders if he did the same with Ser Pounce-A-Lot and how the other Wardens put up with it.
By mid-morning, it's just him and his mother in the house, Anders at the clinic as usual. The dog is following his mother around, the cat...he's not quite sure. He thinks he should probably find it, her, in case Anders panics. They've already had that crisis when Whiskers disappeared for a few hours and they found her in a cupboard asleep among some old clothes and blankets.
He wanders the house, checks the windows, checks the doors and ends up finding the dog instead. Damian at least is only too glad to help him in his search, Mother has retreated to her room and the dog now has nothing to do. Damian follows him faithfully through the house and eventually, Hawke has to give up. Somehow Whiskers has got out again and gone Maker knows where.
He goes to his room, Damian still following and there is Whiskers, pawing at a dead mouse. She sees him, picks up the rodent and presents it at Hawke's feet. Her tail swishes from side to side and she raises her head to stare at him.
Damian makes a noise and starts to sniff at it.
"Leave it alone," he tells the dog, then looks back to at the cat. "Not that it's not...a nice gesture...or something." He's unsure. He's never been a cat person, always had Damian. Anders said something that this meant Whiskers liked them, so he tries, really tries, to accept the dead, sliced open mouse graciously. Somehow.
He kneels down, scratches behind Whiskers' ears and she rubs against his hand. She's quite happy now that her 'gift' has been accepted and she wanders out of the room. Hawke looks at the dog then picks up the mouse to dispose of it.
~~~
Anders comes home that evening, finds Hawke sitting on the floor, back pressed against his bed. He has his eyes closed, doesn't know Anders is there until he clears his throat to get Hawke's attention. He opens his eyes and gestures for Anders to join him. He does so, reaching the bed and is promptly pulled to the floor, landing with a thump.
"Careful there, love," he tells Hawke, then lays his head on Hawke's shoulder.
Hawke doesn't say anything, puts his arm around Anders' shoulders and pulls him closer.
They sit for a while, quiet, content, until the sound of Damian's barking interrupts. Hawke sighs, mutters something about the dog and goes to get up. Anders stops him.
"Just leave it, he'll lose interest in whatever it is," he tells Hawke.
Hawke agrees and settles once more.
The dog doesn't lose interest, he keeps barking, until finally Whiskers runs into the room. For her offering this evening, she has a bird, dead thankfully, and she drops it on Anders's lap. Within seconds, Hawke has scampered over to the other side of the bed and glares at the cat.
"Can you not train her or something?" he says, now split between glaring at the cat and staring at the dead, bloodied bird.
"You can't train a cat. She's not like your mabari, she's smarter than him," Anders tells him, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world. He turns to Whiskers. "Aren't you girl? Yes, you are. And this is a lovely gift."
"It's a dead bird. We'll be cleaning up feathers and blood for hours."
"You're exaggerating, it won't take long."
Hawke rolls his eyes.
He gets up from the floor to find some cloth or something to wrap the bird in and leaves the bedroom. The door to his mother's room opens and he turns to find her there.
"Everything all right, darling?" she says.
He nods. "Fine, Mother. The cat brought a bird in and Anders thinks it's wonderful that the cat is giving us dead things."
"I heard that!" comes the indignant response.
"Good!"
Mother looks torn between being amused at the exchange or scolding him for something. He's not sure what, but he knows she'll find something.
"So I shouldn't mention Damian's habit of bringing dead rabbits in and you reacting in a similar manner," she tells him.
He can feel a blush creep onto his cheeks. "No, you shouldn't. Besides, I was much younger." He knows that's not much of an excuse, still, it's an excuse, he's sticking to it.
His mother smiles and thankfully drops the subject. "There's some cloth in the kitchen you can use."
He nods and wanders off to find it.
He gets back to the bedroom, wraps up the bird, which is now on the floor in the middle of the room, then takes it back out, intending on dealing with it properly in the morning.
When he returns to the room for a second time, he finds Whiskers on the bed, Anders with her and Damian sitting on the floor, his head resting on the bed.
"That cat has no sense of timing," Hawke says, then lies down on the bed also.
"You're not going to complain all night, are you?" Anders answers. The cat climbs over Anders's legs, deciding Hawke is far more interesting.
"Yes. Can't you tell her not to do that?"
"She's a cat, she'll do what she wants, when she wants."
"Never have this problem with a mabari."
Damian barks in agreement.
"Other than being slobbered on and them demanding your attention."
"Oh? And what's this one doing right now?"
They both look to Whiskers who is currently curled up on Hawke's legs.
"Well she's not slobbering."
Hawke rolls his eyes. "We're not going to agree, are we?"
Anders chuckles slightly. "No, love, we're not."
They agree to disagree and Anders cleans up the blood and feathers before he leaves for the clinic. Whiskers, as is becoming her habit now, disappears for another few hours and brings in another dead mouse. Hawke sighs, but can't really bring himself to be annoyed at her. She is, in her own way, being affectionate, sort of, and he can't really fault her that. It's merely something else he has to get used to, and, as he reminds himself, if she makes Anders happy then he can tolerate the cat, perhaps even like her.
Though he'll not admit to that part.
My mouth still hurts and I have college in the morning. Joy. Might skive off at lunchtime mind you, grab whatever work I need to do and do it at home.