Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Arthur is getting fed up with Merlin-the-cat’s destructive tendencies. His flat had never been so torn up.
Word Count: 231
Camelot_drabble Prompt: 478, Hellscape
Author's Notes: unbetaed, more adventures with Merlin the cat. Apparently it is more than a one-off.
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
“Come back here, you mangy furball,” Arthur shouted, skidding through the mess, trying to catch that damnable cat before he caused more damage.
Merlin scampered up onto the mantle, his little body weaving in and out of Arthur’s treasures—it was a miracle nothing fell, then hopped off and hid under the couch.
A pitiful meow, golden eyes glowing, as Arthur reached for him, all he could feel was the warmth of a wet tongue. Merlin was too far in to grab.
Finally, sitting down on the floor, Arthur looked around, sighing at the hellscape. Miles of unrolled toilet paper, his computer askew, laundry scattered about, it looked like Merlin-the-demon-cat had been hard at work while Arthur was actually working.
He didn’t know what to do. Merlin had been growing more and more destructive as summer moved into autumn, and much as he loved the bloody cat, he wasn’t sure just how much more he could take.
Of course, just then, Merlin gave a little questioning yeep, then paws batting at Arthur’s hand, crawled out and settled onto Arthur’s lap. His purring soothed Arthur’s annoyance and the little head snuggling against Arthur’s chest seemed almost an apology.
Arthur shook his head, petting Merlin’s soft fur. “What am I going to do with you?”
Looking up, Merlin gave another meow, then cat-grumbled about something or other before settling back against Arthur’s hand.
An addendum story that should take place before the one above.
Summary: Arthur comes home from work to find Merlin gone.
Word Count: 726
Camelot_drabble Prompt: Prompt: 472 Reward
Merlin_bingo: cuddling and snuggling
Barely looking up at the sky, now turning pink and the first star winking bright into the dusk, Arthur hurried inside his flat. Work had been hell and all he wanted to do was put up his feet and maybe pet his demon cat.
Merlin, miscreant-extraordinaire, was always soft and loving, hopping onto Arthur’s lap every chance he could, rubbing his whiskered face so hard into Arthur’s cheek that it made Arthur laugh. And that was a good thing.
But when he walked into the flat, shrugging off his coat and calling for Merlin, the kitten was nowhere to be found. Not sleeping in the laundry basket, not hiding among Arthur’s shoes, not digging through the garbage for the last of the tuna. There wasn’t even a whirlwind of destruction strewn about—which was worrying.
His alarm intensifying, as he hunted all over the flat for his wayward cat, promising treats and pets and even a toilet roll or two to play with, at first Arthur didn’t notice the window in his bedroom. But then he realised with horror that he’d left it open before he’d gone to work.
Merlin could be anywhere, lost and alone. He could be hurt, he could be… no, Arthur wouldn’t think of his life without that cat. He’d already lodged in Arthur’s heart, much as he’d deny it.
Shoving his coat back on, he ran down the stairs and around into the back garden. There was a little grass and a flower or two, a perfect place for a kitten to play. Arthur had taken Merlin there once or twice and watched, laughing, as the cat scampered around. Happier times.
Hoping against hope that Merlin remembered the play time and hadn’t strayed into the street instead, Arthur called out, “Merlin, Merlin, you stupid cat. Come here before I… Merlin, are you here?” In his mind, he was begging for a sign, any sign that Merlin was just being his idiot self.
Into the growing darkness, he couldn’t see the far corners of the garden, but he searched anyway, pulling out his phone and using it as a torch. Calling Merlin’s name, softly, gently, so as not to scare him off. If he was there.
“I swear I’ll give you a dozen cans of tuna and extra cuddles if you just… please, Merlin, where are you?” Arthur said.
The answering ‘meep’ was almost a flashpoint of relief.
Scampering out from under a bush, Merlin’s golden eyes were wide and a little frightened as he ran to Arthur’s leg and began to claw his way up. Arthur reached down, cradling Merlin’s shivering body and held him close. The soft fur was matted with dirt and cold, but Arthur didn’t care. He kept whispering, “I know, I know. It was my fault, you daft cat. What made you think you could just go outside without me, huh?”
Merlin just butted his head against Arthur’s chin and snuggled closer. “Meow,” said Merlin, then proceeded to grumble as if chiding Arthur for being such a clotpole.
It made Arthur laugh.
Cuddling his wayward kitten to his chest, he walked back up to the flat, then promised, “I’ll give you that can of tuna you want so much, but first a bath. You are filthy.”
It was almost as if Merlin understood him. He let out a yowl, then leaped off and scurried into the back of the nearest closet, his eyes narrowed as if cursing his master. He even hissed, swiping at Arthur’s hand with his paw, but Arthur was too fast.
“You silly cat. That’s your reward for running away.” Shaking his head, letting the water warm up, then grasping the cat and dunking him in, claws and growls notwithstanding, Arthur said, “Don’t give me that. You’ve jumped into the water often enough when I’m trying to take a bath so just hold still and let me scrub off the dirt.”
There was a lot more growling, but finally, Merlin was clean and towel dry. But the little thing was still shivering a bit, so Arthur opened up his shirt and let Merlin snuggle inside.
Arthur sat on the sofa, feeling Merlin breath against his skin, his little demon cat closing his eyes and relaxing into kitten dreams.
“What am I going to do with you, huh?” Arthur asked.
There was no reply.