Took a day longer to post than I expected; my apologies for that, but here it is, ready to be read by you patient people...chapter two of the adorableness that is kitty!Merlin. I seriously hope I'm able to get the image of him to you accurately, because I'm telling you, he's the cutest thing ever in my imagination. *hugs kitty!Merlin tight*
Thanks to everyone who favorited this story, and special thanks to all of you wonderful people who reviewed. You make posting worthwhile!

Chapter 2

"What do you think, Gaius?"

The long-time physician stood straight from where he had been leant over in careful examination of the newest oddity brought to him by the younger generation of Camelot. (What he was actually examining, Arthur knew not, but it was his trust in the man who had been his father's most valued advisor that made him keep his silence and stand patiently while he drew his conclusions.)

With sharp eyes, Gaius stared down at the occupant of his eating-table, watching in silent consideration as the slender feline licked the back of his paw daintily and then proceeded to become distracted by his own reflection in a nearby beaker of bluish-purple headache elixir.

The quick physician barely managed to catch said beaker when the peculiar-looking cat poked at it with one claw and it nearly toppled over onto the floor.

The cat did not, as most other cats would have, leap back at Gaius' sudden movement, but only regarded him with eyes which, were Arthur one to suppose things, he might have thought were slightly abashed at his almost-blunder.

"Well," said Gaius at long last, narrowing his eyes at the perilous creature, "there is only one way to know for certain, I believe, your majesty."

The four knights, who stood a few footsteps away, leaned closer in interest but helpfully remained wordless as their king nodded in acknowledgement of Gaius' judgment.

Not one of the other men expected it when the older member of the court grasped Arthur's wrist and brought it hastily toward the cat as though to strike it. The instinctively alarmed animal retaliated by digging its remarkably sharp teeth into the sensitive place between the king's thumb and forefinger.

"Hang on!"

At Arthur's abrupt cry of pain, the creature released his hand from its jaws and observed the tiny punctures his own teeth had made; though there was only a single droplet of blood in one spot, his little, pink tongue emerged anyway to lick caringly at the marks. Even as he gently did this, however, small sounds of what sounded suspiciously like reprimand, combined with a pointed blue-eyed glare, bespoke of his still-lingering discontentment at the blonde man's uncouth behavior.

"That's Merlin," muttered Gwaine, and a chuckle arose amongst the men.

Arthur, slightly open-mouthed, touched his fingers against the side of the animal's—Merlin's?—soft throat, and watched in a mixture of horror and fascination as the now-forgiving feline closed his eyes contentedly and rubbed his ear against the rough pads of Arthur's fingers.

"Definitely Merlin," agreed Percival in a low rumble, making certain that their king could not hear and therefore would not know how very closely his and his manservant's complicated (and intriguing) friendship was playfully observed by his (rather nosy) knights.

"What," Arthur's loud timbre grabbed the attention of all present (including the lean cat that was, apparently, his shabby manservant, whose swishing, two-toned tail stilled at the sound of his speaking, eyes flickering up to his stern face and low purring frozen), "can we do to reverse this?"

"It would take magic for us to do anything about it," Gaius told him, watching warily as Merlin, seeing the attention drawn away from him, took the opportunity to pounce on a nearby book, and then quirked his head at it, as though expecting it to react, or perhaps trying to read the words on the page.

Arthur clenched his teeth together, his eyes clouding as his gaze dropped to the floor, feeling a variety of helplessness—different from the one he'd felt in the absence of his manservant that very morning—rising in his chest.

"However," the understanding physician hastily clarified, "such spells as these usually do not last very long, and if I recall, the one the sorcerer likely used to change Merlin was one which lasts only twenty-four hours, if that long."

Truthfully, this he only recalled because Merlin had been reciting these facts to him just three days before from the ancient book now carefully hidden beneath the planks of his room, but the unenlightened king needn't know such things, Gaius thought inwardly, especially given the young warlock's current…condition.

The old physician eyed the feline as he was attempting to nose his way through a small box of heather sitting on the tabletop, succeeding only in making himself sneeze, which made his long tail twitch and knock over a wooden bowl, in turn, making him leap back in confusion at the noise.

"Does he know who we are, still?" Elyan inquired, looking down at the light-furred creature from where they all had gathered around to observe his now distrustfully poking the offending bowl.

"No," Gaius replied certainly. "His mind is still his own, but just like his body, it has been reduced to a feline state; he may be relying upon instincts of us brought on by his human memory, but he'll have no real recollections of anything in his past. But do not worry, your majesty."

Arthur looked up to meet his eyes, and his shoulders relaxed at the honesty and sureness in Gaius' weathered face.

"He will be fine by this time tomorrow; I'm sure of it," Gaius affirmed, and then he settled his worn, steady hand on his king's broad shoulder. "He'll be back to normal, sire, with no unwanted effects."

Arthur pulled his eyes away from the little cat, and back to Gaius, the doubts dissipating from his face at the wisdom of the long-time court physician. The others followed him to the door of the lived-in chambers, where he paused briefly and glanced back to where Merlin was. The cat was sitting in the center of the eating-table, watching him walk away with curious and forlorn eyes.

"I'll keep him here; he'll be safe," the older man answered Arthur's unspoken question.

"Of course," said the king in finality. "Thank you, Gaius. When he returns to normal, please tell him I expect to see him in my chambers with very good explanations."

"Of course, my lord."

It was not until after Gaius had closed the chamber door, breathed a weary sigh, and gone to get a bowl and some drinking-water from a nearby pitcher that he realized his table was now, unsurprisingly, empty of any bright-eyed, big-eared, danger-prone felines.

Gwen, as always, waited until Arthur was within hearing distance before smiling broadly at him and curtsying in that femininely polite manner which the king had already told her multiple times was unnecessary.

"Good morning, Arthur," said she in greeting, as she shifted the weight of her basket of laundry to her side. "Did you find Merlin? Gaius told me you were looking for him."

"Ah—" he began, but before he could explain any part of the peculiar circumstances to his beloved Guinevere, Percival called out from behind him.

When he turned, the first thing he noted was the shouting man over the shoulder of his strong knight, and how his wagon had been forced to a halt in the midst of the courtyard—to avoid, he realized when he looked down into Percival's rescuing hands, a certain, ridiculously careless creature with pale-grey fur and clumsy-graceful legs.

Merlin wriggled around irately in Percival's grasp, tiny meows escaping his throat as he attempted to scratch at the thick hands of the gentle giant, and Percival laughed along with Leon, who had not yet parted ways with them. When Merlin spotted Arthur's eyes upon him, however, he halted immediately, and though no sound came out, he opened his mouth widely as if pleading for him.

Arthur sighed a long, rumbling sigh, and Percival passed the skinny creature over to him; though the noble-hearted king held him much less carefully than the kind knight, dangling in one hand instead of cradled securely against his chest, Merlin struggled only a little and mewled with more resigned allowance than anything.

"Merlin…" Arthur warned.

Guinevere's presence as she looked over his shoulder was evident, but in her truly ladylike fashion, the young woman said nothing in her immense acquisitiveness. So, he held up the skinny feline for her to get a better look, and she nearly dropped the basket of laundry upon the dirty ground as her caramel eyes met the wide, bright, too-human pair before her.

"What…happened? Is he all right?"

The genuine concern and utter lack of surprise in her voice only made Arthur love her all the more.

"Gaius says he'll be fine," he answered quietly after he'd looked around to be sure none of the other people in the square could overhear, switching the cat's warm body to his other hand so that Merlin faced her directly and feeling the fast-beating heart behind a tiny ribcage. "We don't know who did this, but it shouldn't last longer than twenty-four hours…and then, we ought to get a truly wondrous explanation from Merlin here."

The animal only mewled a grumpy half-sigh as Arthur shook him in gesture.

Guinevere let out a little laugh of amazement, her eyes brightening as she reached out to touch Merlin's soft fur with one hand, patting him tenderly on the head between his huge ears.

Merlin began to purr again, his long tail swishing back and forth as he rubbed his face against her soft fingers companionably; when she started to move away again, he licked her index finger like a child's kiss of affection, his eyes meeting hers in warm acceptance of her friendship.

She grinned at him.

"Are you going anywhere near Gaius' chambers?" asked Arthur, recalling her attention.

"I was," she replied willfully. "Why?"

"Could you please take him back there? He was supposed to stay with Gaius until he was back to normal."

"Oh, Arthur," said she with sympathy for the former manservant who was presently gazing up at their king like he was a wonder among men (which he was, she acknowledged in her own mind, but the cat wasn't supposed to have figured that out), "he wants to be with you."

Arthur fought off an exasperated grin and rolled his eyes at the newly (and perhaps even more than usually) irritating creature.

"I have things to do today," he said, "and you saw what just happened. Merlin the man can't stay out of trouble for longer than fifteen minutes; Merlin the cat will be dead in ten if someone isn't watching him constantly."

Guinevere chuckled in helpless agreement at that, and held out her clothesbasket welcomingly. Arthur dropped the feline into it atop the soft pile of white blankets, making sure Merlin would not immediately leap out of it before he circled the young woman, stepping toward the castle's entrance. Merlin did not seem to mind Guinevere's gently swinging motions, for he lay down comfortably in a little ball, his tail coming to rest in front of his nose as his eyes blinked slowly, moving back and forth between Arthur and Gwen.

"I'll see you later, then, your majesty," said Gwen, with considerably more sentiment and depth than was proper for just an ordinary maidservant.

Arthur smiled in equal return of her regard.

"Have a good afternoon, Guinevere."

"Good-bye, Leon, Percival."

The two knights waved in answer to the lovely lady as they all went their separate ways. None of them saw the little feline poke his head out of the top of the basket, his ears dropping so that his face was the perfect picture of sadness as the blonde king took the steps up to the castle and disappeared into its doors.

Guinevere smirked as Merlin nudged his nose against the blankets until his whole body disappeared beneath them, and she thought he had fallen asleep…until she folded them back in Gaius' chambers to find the clever cat had leapt out the side when she hadn't been looking.

To be continued

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