Merlin's magic (Oneshots) 1

Whiskers and tails part 1

Camelot had faced many threats. Trolls, Goblins, Dragons. All sort of things. Even before Merlin came to be Arthur's manservant, there had been magical attacks of all kinds. The most common one of course, were vengeful witches.
Arthur was long used to the very standard "I want revenge on Uther Pendragon" speech.
That revenge on Uther would mean revenge on Arthur himself though, that was something he first learned on the age of sixteen. When a witch appeared in his bedroom and cursed him in his sleep.

Arthur Pendragon went missing for an entire year.

When he turned seventeen, he found a ring between his mothers old belongings that could withhold any curse.
To this day, not even his father knew what exactly had happened in that year. An entire year.
He had seen how devastated his father was over his loss. Because Uther believed his son had been kidnapped.
How he had searched for Arthur every single day. Arthur saw that with great worry for his father. Uther was unable to sleep, unable to eat. The worry building up on him just inflicting more and more wounds on his sanity.

The curse that was inflicted on him was not exactly evil or dangerous, opposed to popular believe. Arthur had been vulnerable, yes. But there were times when he had enjoyed his new form of existence.
Nobody really knew what happened to the witch or Arthur that year, but Arthur knew her actions had only fueled the witch hunt his father was so proud of.

Arthur himself had – slowly – gotten used to wear his mothers ring every day and every night. He couldn't risk being seen in his cursed form. And he really hoped nobody would ever take that ring from him. Yes. After all these years, the curse had never been lifted.
That was Arthur's own fault though. Because he refused to trust anyone enough to help him with it.

Then, one day, Arthur Pendragon was crowned king. Arthur had hoped, begged, prayed that this Dragoon guy would safe his father. He had hoped magic would show that it was not just a curse, but also the very tool that lifted curses.His ring was proof of that.
And maybe then he would have trusted the old man enough to help him break his own curse.
But whatever magic the old man had used, it had backfired. And the king had died.
Later, Gaius would inform him about the bracelet that the old sorcerer had failed to notice. One that, as Arthur mentioned before, backfired each of Dragoon's attempts to save the king. Arthur had expected now less.

Despite what Arthur's father had taught him. Despite of his own curse that he had been living with for so long, Arthur had trouble hating magic.
All he needed was proof. Just one tiny thing that would convince him magic wasn't inevitably evil. Arthur wasn't sure what he needed it for. Maybe just to set his mind to rest.

Now Arthur was devastated. Alone. Frightened. Burdened with his new crown and responsibilities. Each and every day reports lay upon his desks, staring him dead in the eye and challenging him.
Paper was a foe far deadlier then the immortal armies Arthur once had to face.

It didn't help that he now had less and less time to actually train. He WAS the best knight Camelot had to offer. But if he kept slacking off, he wouldn't be able to keep that status for much longer.
Even if Lancelot was dead – there were others among the commoners who were willing and talented enough to achieve such a goal. Not to mention that training was basically his only stress relief.
All these things pressed on the new king. Who was far too young and inexperience to be seen a worthy threat to the neighboring kingdoms, as Agravaine, his uncle, liked to remind him.

Arthur decided, he needed a break. Once he had seen the enchantment placed on him a curse. Now he considered it a blessing, as he took off the ring. For the first time since he first put it on.

His whole body convulsed at the lack of the magical barrier, that kept Arthur human. The ring, now fallen to the ground glistened in the moonlight accusingly.
Fur grew on Arthur's limps, his face, his whole body. His clothes falling off him, too big for his shrinking body.