Author's Notes: unbetaed, more adventures with Merlin the cat. I started this as a one-shot drabble but it's gone far beyond that so I'm putting it in its own thread.
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Title: Wrecked
Summary: Merlin the cat isn't above wrecking things, just because he could.
The wreckage of Arthur's ship-in-a-bottle, so close to being finished, was now scattered across the room.
Honestly, it was really Arthur's fault. He'd left it where that damnable cat, that golden-eyed, black-furred monster could get to it. Even now, His Majesty Muckitimuck Merlin-the-menace was licking his paws, looking smug and innocent at the same time.
Arthur couldn't even yell at him. Not when he sat there, blinking at Arthur, purring madly. Hopping onto Arthur's lap, rubbing his soft fur against Arthur's chin in apology.
Damn cat knew that Arthur would forgive him.
Next time, though, Arthur was closing the door.
Title: Awe
Summary: Merlin the cat was at it again. Arthur's poor ships-in-a-bottle.
All of his ships-in-a-bottle were ruined. Every single one, ships that had taken him weeks to create, had somehow been pulled from the bottles and scattered around the room.
It looked like the Battle of Trafalgar, all wreckage and loss. In the midst of it all, Merlin-the-menace, that golden-eyed miscreant, that damnable cat, sat licking his paws. Purring his triumph.
Arthur wasn't even sure how it happened. The bottles were still sealed shut. How could anyone, even a cat, free the ships without breaking the bottles first?
If Arthur didn't know better, he'd say Merlin had magic.
Merlin just meowed.
Title: Paw Prints
Summary: It was Arthur's fault this time. He should never have opened the ink bottle.
As Arthur sat there, inking designs on his latest ship, he should've known better. Merlin, cat-extraordinaire, rubbing his soft fur against Arthur's ankle, purred as he played with Arthur's bare toes.
Arthur hoped Merlin's misadventures were over. He hadn't wrecked anything in weeks.
But when Merlin jumped onto his lap, yowling when Arthur batted him away, Merlin didn't settle. Instead, knocking over the inkbottle, scampering through the mess, Merlin left behind a horror trail of pawprints.
Grumbling, Arthur scrubbed at the inky disaster, even the help scrawled in kitten-toe black on the floor.
It wasn't as if Merlin could spell.
