Summary: Merlin. Arthur. Kitten. Breakfast.
Warning/Spoiler: Humor, fluff, pre-slash, spoilers for season one
Word Count: 790
Disclaimer: The show and all characters are owned by the BBC. This is just for fun.
Many, many thanks to my beta keli who did a great job and cheered me on. All mistakes are my own.
Nomen Est Omen
“What is that?“
“It’s a cat, Arthur.”
“It looks like a rat!”
Merlin sighed. He already knew it would be a bad idea to bring that tiny little animal to Arthur’s room, but what should he have done? Left it out in the rain, in November?
“It’s a kitten, Arthur. A wet kitten. Not a rat. It won’t gnaw on your boots, don’t worry.”
Arthur looked annoyed which was so not a surprise. Heaven forbid something came between breakfast and the great warrior and future king. One could only hope that there would never be a situation where Arthur had to decide before breakfast over waging war against someone. Poor people.
“Why did you bring it here? Why not to your own room? Or even better, outside, where it can do whatever cats do? Hunt mice or something?”
“Yeah, that kitten is surely meant to be a great hunter yet. It’s tiny, Arthur. And a dog of one of your wanna be knights was chasing it. And I had to bring it here because I knew you were already bellowing for breakfast and there was no time…”
“… there was no time to bring it to my quarters and start a fire and explain to…”
“…to Gaius why I have to bring it in from the cold…”
“MERLIN, SHUT UP!!!”
Now Merlin was annoyed. After all, Arthur had asked.
“Where IS my breakfast?”
Merlin tried, but the kitchen servants refused to be rushed. After all, this was the breakfast for the crown prince and since the first one was cold by now it had to be prepared again. Properly prepared. Obviously Merlin wasn’t the only one who knew that a bad made breakfast bred a bad tempered Arthur. He just hoped the kitten was still all right. Well, he left it on top of a very soft pillow near the fireplace but still. Arthur hadn’t eaten yet.
The dishes made an ugly CLANK sound when Merlin slammed them onto the table.
“WHERE IS IT? WHAT HAVE YOU…”
Merlin stared. At Arthur. And the kitten. Which was in Arthur’s lap, purring. It had fluffed up quite a bit and looked - cute. All black with a tiny white spot at the end of it’s tail. The almighty prince was petting it carefully with two fingers and looking at it in a certain goofy way. Merlin stared on.
“She obviously felt lonely all alone over there at the fire and decided to come here and…”
“Well, of course she is female. She came straight over to me, is sitting in my lap and enjoying it. She loves me.”
Ungh. Merlin rolled his eyes, despite being relieved, and trotted over to Arthur, who was still caressing the little animal. He tried to pet it tentatively at the head and was thanked by the little monster with a hiss and a scratch.
Arthur – gloated. There was no other word for it.
“Now it’s certain she is a girl. And such a good little girl.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Aw, come on, Merlin! Girls like me best, boys like you best.”
Merlin refused to blush. And there was no way he would get in this discussion with Arthur again. This topic came up far too often for Merlin’s taste in the last months. Not that he had anything to hide or something like that. Not at all.
“Well, sire, breakfast is ready. If you would be so kind to come over here and eat?”
Arthur stood up slowly and went to the table, with the cat. After critically eyeing the food, he frowned.
“Do you think there is anything I could give her to eat?”
“There is always milk. It is very young, I don’t think it could tolerate meat yet.”
“You’re probably right. Oh, by the way, Merlin, she needs a name. I mean…. she could stay here for awhile and then I would need to call her something. After all, she is so tiny and I can’t really let her out, with the cold and the dogs and all that…”
Merlin looked at the cat. It looked straight back at him with golden eyes.
“You’re right, Arthur, it needs a name.”
“Well, can you think of one?”
Merlin looked at the cat again, a little longer this time. It stared back with a haughty expression.
“What about – Emrys?”
“Emrys? What kind of name is that?”
“Just came to mind.”
“Emrys… Emrys… sounds right. Emrys it will be.”
Arthur looked up at Merlin with that dopey smile he sometimes had, and Merlin smiled straight back.
There would be time enough for the prince to discover that Emrys had balls.