500 Days of Freya (Merlin)

Cat

Chapter 16

Warning/s: None.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

A/N: Hey everyone! Hope you're still enjoying the story. I have loads of awesome prompts to work through, so all of them will be making an appearance at some point and feel free to give me more! Right now my life is very busy, but I get odd days where all I do is write, write and write some more, so I love having prompts ready to be written.

Prompt: ruapilot2: "Gwen notices that Merlin acts strangely around cats. She thinks he simply dislikes them or is allergic, until the day he shows up at her door carrying a little black kitten. He tries to convince her to take the cat in and has to explain that he won't do so himself because cats remind him of Freya."

The first time Gwen had noticed Merlin's aversion to cats, she had thought it most peculiar. He had to have been in Camelot for a little over three years at that stage, but what Gwen found peculiar was not that he reacted so violently – he, upon catching a glimpse of the arthritic, starved creature, had skidded backwards and then rushed away as fast as he could with a load of Arthur's laundry, while she decided to go hunting in the kitchen to see if there were any scraps of meat to fatten up the old cat – but more that he had always loved cats up until then.

It kept on happening – every time Merlin saw a cat, no matter its size, colour or any other characteristic, he would turn on his heel and flee. Once, upon encountering a sleek, pretty black cat, Gwen had sworn Merlin had tears in his eyes. Then again, the cat had been injured (most likely by another cat) and had a deep gash that ran from her shoulder to her tail – maybe Merlin was simply upset by the sight of such an injury. Somehow it was more than that, though – Gwen knew it was. She had no real evidence to say that her suspicions were true, apart from that she had been Merlin's close friend for a good few years now, and she knew him well enough.

Gwen had her suspicions confirmed one Thursday evening. She had only gotten back to her home about an hour before, and the cold winter sun had almost sunk below the forests in the distance. She had fashioned herself a meal from the bread she had purchased at the market, along with the pork that was leftover from the kitchens today. Just as she was drying her cutlery over the bucket she used for washing up, there came a sharp, urgent rapping at the door.

Frowning, she laid down her knife and threw her frayed towel onto her table. She rarely had visitors, much less at this time of night. Her blood began to sprint around her body even as it grew cold, her heart thudding. The last time she had received a late-night visitor, it had not worked in her favour.

There was another bout of knocking, which was a good sign, Gwen supposed. People who intended to slaughter you usually didn't bother with knocking; they skipped such pleasantries in favour of knocking down your door and slicing open your throat, usually. Gwen headed towards her door, half of her wishing that she hadn't abandoned her knife by her bucket, the other (more logical) half of her telling her to stop worrying. She might have left a shawl at the castle, and another maid was stopping by to return it on the way back to her own house, for example, it told her.

Gwen pulled the door open before she could change her mind. The light was dim and she had to squint, cursing her stupidity for not bringing with her a candle. However, when her mysterious visitor spoke, she recognised him in an instant. "Sorry Gwen, but I don't know who else to go to," he pleaded desperately.

Gwen stepped back to allow Merlin room to enter her house. She shut the door after him and joined him at her modest table. He must have been freezing; he wasn't wearing his customary neckerchief, or his jacket. Instead, he was clutching both of them in his arms. Curled up on top of his neckerchief was a beautiful kitten, with oval brown eyes and long, thin slits for pupils.

She regarded Gwen for a few seconds, her dainty head cocked to one side, before resuming her grooming. Her fur was a mismatch of black, brown, white and golden, and she looked very young, her elegant tail coiled by her side.

"She was wandering round the castle and nobody knew who she was or where she came from," Merlin explained, carefully depositing the kitten (still seated on his jacket) onto her table. "I know you've taken care of them in the past, so..." He shrugged as his sentence tailed off, looking at her pleadingly.

Gwen sighed. A kitten this young could potentially be problematic for her, if she tried to give it the right care whilst keeping to her working schedule. She couldn't turn it down, though..."Of course I will... but only if you tell me why you dislike cats so much," she bargained.

Merlin sighed. "Long story short, I knew someone who loved cats, she died, and cats turned slightly bitter for me." He decided that lying slightly would be better than revealing he once knew a cursed druid girl who he loved dearly.

"More information than that," Gwen said, not satisfied with his answer. She knew when her friend was lying. "I won't tell anyone what you tell me, if that's what you're worried about."

Merlin's cobalt eyes snapped up to meet hers. "Even if it breaks the law?" Their eyes stared into each other for a few seconds.

"I will tell nobody."

Merlin inhaled deeply. He still didn't want to go into detail, but Gwen deserved at least some of the truth. "There was a girl named Freya," he began softly. "I met her and instantly fell in love with her. She was beautiful but very traumatized. I tried to help her...but at night, she turned into a great, winged black cat and couldn't stop herself from killing." He saw recognition dawn in Gwen's eyes. He sucked in another breath and continued. "The rest you know really, Arthur killed her in cat form."

"What did you do with her body?" Gwen asked softly. She remembered the creature now, remembered Merlin running after it, remembered keeping that a secret to protect her friend even though she had no clue why he was doing it.

"I took her to a lake," Merlin replied. There were tears swimming in his eyes. "There were mountains there...I placed her in a boat and burnt her where she wanted to be."

He stood up abruptly. "Sorry, I'll go now." He walked to the door stiffly and exited her small house. Gwen sighed and looked at the kitten, snoozing in Merlin's neckerchief.

A few miles away from Camelot, a still lake stirred with the words I love you.

A/N: So this prompt was really good and I really haven't done it justice, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless of my crappy writing.