He Looks Like A Rat:

This one was inspired by the long brown cloak which Arthur used to wear in Season 1. I wondered why he suddenly stopped wearing it, even though I didn't like it when he did wear it. In my opinion, it made him look like an overgrown rat, so that is where this little story came from. I hope you find it amusing!

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

…

"Why don't you just admit it? He looks like a rat."

Gwen giggled, her eyes trained on Arthur's back as she walked along beside Merlin.

"Alright." She stopped, looking at Merlin out of the corner of her eye. "Arthur looks like a rat." Merlin stared at her uncertainly, not sure if she truly agreed with his assessment of the Prince's long, oddly rat-like brown coat or was just humouring him. She stared back unblinkingly, but he must have read something in her chocolate brown eyes, as his face soon split into a wide smile.

"I knew you'd see it!" he exclaimed, grin stretching from large ear to large ear. Guinevere rolled her eyes, and began walking once more.

"I did!" Merlin insisted, jogging a little to catch up to her. He lowered his voice. "Wouldn't it be unfortunate if something happened to it? Like, I don't know, if it caught on fire?"

Gwen shook her head, amused by her friend's attitude. "You wouldn't", she said confidently.

"Wouldn't I?" Merlin cocked an eyebrow at her – he must have picked it up from Gaius – his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"No", Guinevere laughed. Merlin gnawed his bottom lip, obviously taking her disbelief as some kind of challenge.

"Give me a week", he requested, "And you will never see Arthur wearing that cloak again."

"Merlin –" Gwen began, intending to tell him how ridiculous it was that he was prepared to ruin the Prince's cloak just to prove he wasn't afraid, but Merlin cut her off.

"One week", he promised, before speeding up to catch up to Arthur.

….

Merlin glanced around the Prince's chambers nervously. Arthur was dining with his father, but he had been delayed on the way back to Arthur's chambers and was anxious that the Prince would return before his job was done.

The servant made a beeline for Arthur's closet, stepping over the goblet which Arthur had thrown at him that morning. He opened the door and began rummaging through in search of the cloak. He knew Arthur wasn't wearing it, and he hadn't taken it down to the laundry room, but he couldn't find it. He turned away, shutting the closet door, and surveyed the room carefully.

There it was! Lying on the floor, near Arthur's bed. The lazy Prince had most likely dropped it there after taking it off. Although, a small voice in Merlin's head whispered, as the Prince's servant, he probably should have picked it up. Seizing the offending garment, Merlin strode towards the fireplace. Kneeling upon the hearth, Merlin grabbed a poker and prodded the hot coals, trying to coax them into producing more heat.

"Merlin." Merlin started at the familiar sound of Prince Prat's voice. Turning his head, he saw Arthur standing in the doorway, watching him with an inscrutable expression.

"What exactly are you doing?"

Merlin scrambled to his feet, trying to hide the Prince's cloak behind him.

"Just – stoking the fire", he said, smiling brightly. Arthur's eyes narrowed.

"It's hot", he said shortly.

"Really?" Merlin asked, pursing his lips. "I'm feeling a little cold."

"Ah, so is that why you have my cloak?" Arthur asked pointedly.

"What?" Merlin tittered nervously. "I don't have your cloak. Look, one hand" – he withdrew his right hand from behind his back and showed it to the Prince – "other hand." He placed his right hand behind him once more and showed Arthur his empty left hand.

"Merlin", Arthur said in a warning tone. Merlin sighed.

"Alright", he said, feigning defeat. "I'll tell you the truth." Arthur raised an eyebrow, waiting impatiently for him to continue.

"Gwen really hates this cloak", Merlin confided in a loud whisper, holding out the item of clothing. Arthur stared at him suspiciously. "It's true!" Merlin insisted. "She said it makes you look like a rat."

"I do not look like a rat!" Arthur objected, insulted.

"See, this is why I didn't tell you earlier", Merlin said, shaking his head sadly. "You should know that Guinevere told me this under strict confidence. She'd be very upset if she found out that you knew."

"Exactly, she'd be upset with you for having told me!" Arthur replied angrily. Merlin shook his head sorrowfully.

"I don't think so; you see, Gwen knows that if you order me to tell you something, I have to do it. Otherwise, you'll throw me in the stocks."

Arthur scoffed. "Oh, come on! How often have I thrown you in the stocks?"

"About once a fortnight", Merlin said matter-of-factly.

"And how often have you refused to do what I ask?"

"At least once a day", Merlin responded in the same tone.

"Aha! So, clearly, I don't throw you in the stocks every time you refuse to tell me something when I ask." Arthur said triumphantly.

"That's true", Merlin admitted. "But according to what I told Gwen, you do throw me in the stocks nearly every time, so I think she would understand."

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted. The servant looked at him innocently.

"What? I'm just saying, if you want Gwen to like you –" He trailed off, leaning back slightly as Arthur raised a finger and deliberately pointed it into his servant's face.

"Burn the jacket", the Prince said in an undertone. "And then go and muck out my stables. I wouldn't want them to go without being cleaned while you're in the stocks."

"But –" Merlin began to protest, but stopped talking as Arthur glared at him threateningly.

"Unless you want me to put you in there for an extra day, do not say anything. And if you mention this to anyone – especially my father or Guinevere – you'll be polishing the armour of every knight in Camelot. Got it?"

Merlin nodded.

"Good. Now stick it in the fire and go muck out the stables."

….

Gwen was just leaving the castle when she heard loud footsteps approaching her from behind. She turned to see Merlin jogging up to her, his face wreathed in smiles.

"Hello, Merlin", she said warmly, a smile spreading across her own face in response to Merlin's obvious cheerfulness.

"Guess what?" Merlin replied, his voice full of suppressed excitement. Guinevere felt an urge to laugh at his enthusiasm – in some ways, Merlin reminded her of nothing more than an overgrown puppy, tail wagging in excitement.

"What?" she asked, humour leaking into her tone. Merlin's smile, if possible, grew even wider.

"I got rid of the cloak!" He confided, barely managing to keep his voice down.

"What?" Gwen repeated, this time unable to prevent her laughter. "What did you do to it?"

"I burned it in Arthur's fireplace!" Merlin exclaimed, his blue eyes sparkling merrily.

"Does he know?" Gwen asked anxiously.

"Yeah." Merlin shrugged. "He didn't seem to like the cloak that much anyway, though." Gwen shook her head, astounded by her friend's casual admission that not only had he purposely burnt the clothing of the Crown Prince of Camelot, but that said Prince knew about it and hadn't sacked him on the spot or thrown him into the dungeons to teach him a lesson.

"So he's not going to punish you?" she asked. She knew that Arthur wasn't a harsh master, despite Merlin's complaints, but she couldn't imagine him allowing Merlin to burn his clothing without some kind of punishment.

"He's putting me in the stocks", Merlin admitted. Gwen tilted her head sympathetically, but Merlin didn't seem worried about it, gleefully declaring:

"It was definitely worth it!"

….

So there it is. Just a light-hearted little thing which popped into my head one day. I hope it provided a possible explanation for why Arthur suddenly stopped wearing his rat-cloak.