fanfic - and they call it
Title: And They Call It
Rating: G
Pairing/Characters: Merlin, Arthur and Kilgharrah
Disclaimer: I own no part of this brilliant show.
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Words: 1,406
Summary: In which Kilgharrah is a puppy and Arthur smells like bacon.
Notes: This is a small apology/gift/guilt/I don't know what this is fic for an old friend of mine based on a conversation we had ages ago. Just to let them know I'm sorry I disappeared off the face of the earth and never wrote them fic or wished them Merry Christmas, but that I still think about them (in a non-creepy way). ♥
Merlin had pointed out already - multiple times, in fact - that what had happened was Not His Fault. It was an unfortunate happenstance born of good intentions but bad timing.
Gauis didn’t seem to be buying it.
“Are you trying to tell me, Merlin, that you have turned The Great Dragon into a dog?”
“No!” Merlin said urgently, with a little hand flourish. “Well, yes. Maybe. But it was a complete accident and I can fix it.”
There is a pause.
“Besides, Gauis, he’s only a puppy. He’s even sort of cute,” Gauis gave him a look. “Right. Fixing it.”
~*~
Despite the many flaws in Merlin’s work ethic, punctuality was not usually one of them. Arthur always supposed Merlin was a glutton for punishment that way.
Which was why, when Merlin did not report for his designated Boot-Cleaning-and-Ego-Stroking duty, Arthur immediately suspected something was wrong. He marched to Gauis’ chambers concocting a series of scenarios ranging from kidnapping to brutal murder to flesh-eating disease, and by the time he reached the door he was just about read to rush Merlin to the infirmary.
However, none of the scenarios Arthur had concocted involved Merlin being enthusiastically licked by a small black dog. Which was, in fact, exactly what he found upon opening the door.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, “That’s a dog.”
“Urm, yes. Yes it is.”
“Why do you have a dog?”
“It... followed me home. From the town. When I was out. Buying... herbs.”
“I see,” Arthur looked down at the dog curiously. It was no more than a puppy, with big feet and floppy ears. He looked up at Arthur rather adoringly, and wagged his tail so energetically that his whole body shook. “Am I to assume that this dog is the reason you were unable to serve me this morning?”
Merlin looked pained. “Arthur, I know. I’m sorry, but Gaius doesn’t really like him,” he gestured to the puppy, who was now chewing his fingers. “And because he keeps knocking things over I can’t leave him alone. But I did bring your boots down here. I’ve been cleaning them!”
Arthur pointedly does not look at his chewed, drooled-upon boots.
“Look, keep him in my chambers if you must. As long as he behaves, and you get back to work.”
Merlin and the puppy seemed to grin at him simultaneously. Arthur’s heart melted a little.
~*~
Kilgharrah quickly established himself as Conqueror of Arthur’s Chambers. He didn’t seem to mind being confined to the room, seeing as he happily spent most of his time trotting around, being fed tidbits of Arthur’s breakfast under the table and jumping into the bathtub every morning while Merlin filled it. Evenings found him curled at Arthur’s feet, next to the fire, or under the bed covers with his head poking out and his ears twitching in his sleep. It was... cute, Arthur supposed.
A week or so into their co-habitation, Arthur had surmised that the puppy had only two opinions on people. The first was ‘I like you and am going to sit on your lap and perhaps drool’ and the second was ‘I do not like you and am going to growl ominously at you’.
Arthur found observing the puppy’s reactions to various people very interesting. He, his knights, Merlin, Gauis and Gwen all garnered the first reaction, while Morgana and the King received the second. He did in-fact seem especially uneasy around Uther, and would alternate between low growls and the occasional bark at the man, and hiding under Arthur’s bed.
“Well,” Uther said at length one afternoon, “I suppose he will grow into a suitable guard dog. Though I am curious, Arthur, wherever did you get him from?”
Arthur gave a small, proud smile. “Merlin found him for me.”
“Is that so,” Uther seemed skeptical. “Well, just ensure he does not distract you.”
~*~
It was late and nearly pitch black, and the crescent moon hung lightly in the sky. All intelligent inhabitants of Camelot were asleep and had been for some time now.
Which begged the question why two men and a dog seemed to be bumbling aimlessly around in the night.
“Arthur, why are we doing this?”
Arthur made a ssssh noise. “Keep your voice down, Merlin. He needs a walk. We were both too busy today -”
“Can’t you ask one of the serving girls to take him out?” asked Merlin, while he attempted to avoid walking into a pond. “They all fancy you anyway.”
Arthur glared at him, unaware that the effect was lost in the dark. “He only wants a walk from his owner.”
“Aww, look at protective, Daddy Arthur,” Merlin smiled. And then swore, when he walked into a rose bush.
~*~
Arthur was asleep, curled around the little black Kilgharrah. The dragon-puppy had wedged his nose under Arthur’s chin and every breath he took sent up a little plume of air that puffed up the hair around Arthur’s ear.
Merlin looked down at the bed and frowned. “Gauis, I don’t think I can do this.”
“You have to, Merlin. You found the spell to turn him back. It doesn’t make sense to drag it out any longer. It’ll only make it worse on the both of them. Just take him.”
“Right. I understand. Okay,” Merlin nodded. He reached out slowly, but pulled his hands back after a second. “Oooh, I can’t do it! They look so peaceful!”
Gauis gave a drawn out sigh. “Fine, fine. Make me do everything.”
~*~
Merlin was fairly sure he was going to suffer some form of heart malfunction due to the sheer magnitude of his guilt. Yes, Kilgharrah had awkwardly thanked him once he’d released the dragon outside of Camelot. Yes, the longer Arthur had to bond with his cute little puppy the harder it would have been to transform the puppy back into a fire breathing dragon.
But Merlin’s heart nearly breaks when Arthur bursts into his room that morning. His boots don’t match and his shirt isn’t on correctly, but that’s nothing compared to the look of absolute panic and despair on his face.
“Merlin! I can’t find him!”
So Merlin mimes looking for the little black puppy in bedchambers and the castle gardens, all the while consoling Arthur. “He’ll come back,” he said, even though he knew that wasn’t going to happen.
In the following weeks, the whole court seemed to notice the change in Arthur’s mood. He was obnoxious and catty and more prat-like than usual, especially to Merlin during morning bath-times. Merlin was in fact getting seriously tired of the prince’s sulking, and was about to say something loud and to the effect of ‘I thought princes were above moping’, when he caught Arthur switch between staring despondently at the leftovers on his plate and the space next to his feet.
That was when Merlin decided to take action
The next day - using the excuse of herb-hunting for Gaius - he rode out to a little village known for breeding the best farm dogs. Merlin spent a rather hilarious amount of time sat on the dusty floor of the puppy pen being jumped upon by tiny little paws, but eventually selected a dopey looking brown puppy, with one ear that pointed up and one that flopped down.
After a hectic journey back to Camelot (Merlin accepted that perhaps he should have thought out the ‘dog on horseback’ plan a little more throughly), Merlin waited patiently until he was sure that Arthur was on his way back to his chambers. Merlin stood around a corner, and as soon as Arthur passed him by (still moping) he put the puppy on the floor, cast a quick spell on Arthur and ducked away.
And the little puppy sniffed the air, wagged his tail, and trotted after Arthur.
~*~
Arthur burst into Merlin’s chambers with a flourish about an hour later.
“Merlin!” he declared. “A puppy followed me home.”
Merlin smiled. “Oh really? What a coincidence.”
Arthur nodded rather excitedly. “He’s very sweet and has taken to licking my hand and sniffing me a lot. Come see him,” Merlin got up and they walked to the door, until Arthur paused. He scrunched his nose up, and looked around.
“Merlin, do you smell... bacon?”
“No. Not at all. Sire.”
Arthur frowned. “Hmm. How odd,” he said, and sniffed his shirt.
Rating: G
Pairing/Characters: Merlin, Arthur and Kilgharrah
Disclaimer: I own no part of this brilliant show.
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Words: 1,406
Summary: In which Kilgharrah is a puppy and Arthur smells like bacon.
Notes: This is a small apology/gift/guilt/I don't know what this is fic for an old friend of mine based on a conversation we had ages ago. Just to let them know I'm sorry I disappeared off the face of the earth and never wrote them fic or wished them Merry Christmas, but that I still think about them (in a non-creepy way). ♥
Merlin had pointed out already - multiple times, in fact - that what had happened was Not His Fault. It was an unfortunate happenstance born of good intentions but bad timing.
Gauis didn’t seem to be buying it.
“Are you trying to tell me, Merlin, that you have turned The Great Dragon into a dog?”
“No!” Merlin said urgently, with a little hand flourish. “Well, yes. Maybe. But it was a complete accident and I can fix it.”
There is a pause.
“Besides, Gauis, he’s only a puppy. He’s even sort of cute,” Gauis gave him a look. “Right. Fixing it.”
~*~
Despite the many flaws in Merlin’s work ethic, punctuality was not usually one of them. Arthur always supposed Merlin was a glutton for punishment that way.
Which was why, when Merlin did not report for his designated Boot-Cleaning-and-Ego-Stroking duty, Arthur immediately suspected something was wrong. He marched to Gauis’ chambers concocting a series of scenarios ranging from kidnapping to brutal murder to flesh-eating disease, and by the time he reached the door he was just about read to rush Merlin to the infirmary.
However, none of the scenarios Arthur had concocted involved Merlin being enthusiastically licked by a small black dog. Which was, in fact, exactly what he found upon opening the door.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, “That’s a dog.”
“Urm, yes. Yes it is.”
“Why do you have a dog?”
“It... followed me home. From the town. When I was out. Buying... herbs.”
“I see,” Arthur looked down at the dog curiously. It was no more than a puppy, with big feet and floppy ears. He looked up at Arthur rather adoringly, and wagged his tail so energetically that his whole body shook. “Am I to assume that this dog is the reason you were unable to serve me this morning?”
Merlin looked pained. “Arthur, I know. I’m sorry, but Gaius doesn’t really like him,” he gestured to the puppy, who was now chewing his fingers. “And because he keeps knocking things over I can’t leave him alone. But I did bring your boots down here. I’ve been cleaning them!”
Arthur pointedly does not look at his chewed, drooled-upon boots.
“Look, keep him in my chambers if you must. As long as he behaves, and you get back to work.”
Merlin and the puppy seemed to grin at him simultaneously. Arthur’s heart melted a little.
~*~
Kilgharrah quickly established himself as Conqueror of Arthur’s Chambers. He didn’t seem to mind being confined to the room, seeing as he happily spent most of his time trotting around, being fed tidbits of Arthur’s breakfast under the table and jumping into the bathtub every morning while Merlin filled it. Evenings found him curled at Arthur’s feet, next to the fire, or under the bed covers with his head poking out and his ears twitching in his sleep. It was... cute, Arthur supposed.
A week or so into their co-habitation, Arthur had surmised that the puppy had only two opinions on people. The first was ‘I like you and am going to sit on your lap and perhaps drool’ and the second was ‘I do not like you and am going to growl ominously at you’.
Arthur found observing the puppy’s reactions to various people very interesting. He, his knights, Merlin, Gauis and Gwen all garnered the first reaction, while Morgana and the King received the second. He did in-fact seem especially uneasy around Uther, and would alternate between low growls and the occasional bark at the man, and hiding under Arthur’s bed.
“Well,” Uther said at length one afternoon, “I suppose he will grow into a suitable guard dog. Though I am curious, Arthur, wherever did you get him from?”
Arthur gave a small, proud smile. “Merlin found him for me.”
“Is that so,” Uther seemed skeptical. “Well, just ensure he does not distract you.”
~*~
It was late and nearly pitch black, and the crescent moon hung lightly in the sky. All intelligent inhabitants of Camelot were asleep and had been for some time now.
Which begged the question why two men and a dog seemed to be bumbling aimlessly around in the night.
“Arthur, why are we doing this?”
Arthur made a ssssh noise. “Keep your voice down, Merlin. He needs a walk. We were both too busy today -”
“Can’t you ask one of the serving girls to take him out?” asked Merlin, while he attempted to avoid walking into a pond. “They all fancy you anyway.”
Arthur glared at him, unaware that the effect was lost in the dark. “He only wants a walk from his owner.”
“Aww, look at protective, Daddy Arthur,” Merlin smiled. And then swore, when he walked into a rose bush.
~*~
Arthur was asleep, curled around the little black Kilgharrah. The dragon-puppy had wedged his nose under Arthur’s chin and every breath he took sent up a little plume of air that puffed up the hair around Arthur’s ear.
Merlin looked down at the bed and frowned. “Gauis, I don’t think I can do this.”
“You have to, Merlin. You found the spell to turn him back. It doesn’t make sense to drag it out any longer. It’ll only make it worse on the both of them. Just take him.”
“Right. I understand. Okay,” Merlin nodded. He reached out slowly, but pulled his hands back after a second. “Oooh, I can’t do it! They look so peaceful!”
Gauis gave a drawn out sigh. “Fine, fine. Make me do everything.”
~*~
Merlin was fairly sure he was going to suffer some form of heart malfunction due to the sheer magnitude of his guilt. Yes, Kilgharrah had awkwardly thanked him once he’d released the dragon outside of Camelot. Yes, the longer Arthur had to bond with his cute little puppy the harder it would have been to transform the puppy back into a fire breathing dragon.
But Merlin’s heart nearly breaks when Arthur bursts into his room that morning. His boots don’t match and his shirt isn’t on correctly, but that’s nothing compared to the look of absolute panic and despair on his face.
“Merlin! I can’t find him!”
So Merlin mimes looking for the little black puppy in bedchambers and the castle gardens, all the while consoling Arthur. “He’ll come back,” he said, even though he knew that wasn’t going to happen.
In the following weeks, the whole court seemed to notice the change in Arthur’s mood. He was obnoxious and catty and more prat-like than usual, especially to Merlin during morning bath-times. Merlin was in fact getting seriously tired of the prince’s sulking, and was about to say something loud and to the effect of ‘I thought princes were above moping’, when he caught Arthur switch between staring despondently at the leftovers on his plate and the space next to his feet.
That was when Merlin decided to take action
The next day - using the excuse of herb-hunting for Gaius - he rode out to a little village known for breeding the best farm dogs. Merlin spent a rather hilarious amount of time sat on the dusty floor of the puppy pen being jumped upon by tiny little paws, but eventually selected a dopey looking brown puppy, with one ear that pointed up and one that flopped down.
After a hectic journey back to Camelot (Merlin accepted that perhaps he should have thought out the ‘dog on horseback’ plan a little more throughly), Merlin waited patiently until he was sure that Arthur was on his way back to his chambers. Merlin stood around a corner, and as soon as Arthur passed him by (still moping) he put the puppy on the floor, cast a quick spell on Arthur and ducked away.
And the little puppy sniffed the air, wagged his tail, and trotted after Arthur.
~*~
Arthur burst into Merlin’s chambers with a flourish about an hour later.
“Merlin!” he declared. “A puppy followed me home.”
Merlin smiled. “Oh really? What a coincidence.”
Arthur nodded rather excitedly. “He’s very sweet and has taken to licking my hand and sniffing me a lot. Come see him,” Merlin got up and they walked to the door, until Arthur paused. He scrunched his nose up, and looked around.
“Merlin, do you smell... bacon?”
“No. Not at all. Sire.”
Arthur frowned. “Hmm. How odd,” he said, and sniffed his shirt.