Chapter Text
The first thing that you noticed when you woke was blinding pain, almost to knock you out again, but the warmth emanating from the body you were held against comforted you slightly. That was the second thing you noticed; the fact you were being carried. Not in the normal way though, like a bridal carry or over the shoulder, but instead tucked up against a man. Or knight, by the look of the chainmail and cape he was wearing.
You tried to take stock of your body, wiggling away from the arm trapping you, but you could only make out a small furry body and a sharp pain in one of your legs before the large hand trapping you in place tightened. Your long legs useless against the chainmail covering the knight’s chest, and with the cape limiting your vision, you were forced to try and figure out your situation like this.
First. You had been cursed, right?
Morgana had barged into the Druid caves, demanding Emrys. You were closest to the entrance, just getting back from gathering herbs for your aunt, so it was only fair that the former royal grabbed you, threatening the entire clan if they didn’t tell her his location. The fact is, no one actually knew it, and you told her exactly that, viciously ripping out of her grip and yelling obscenities at her. She hadn’t really liked that, obviously, and tore you away from the caves with her magic, throwing you through the forest and changing—cursing—your body into what looked like a young cat.
You didn’t really remember what happened after that, sustaining many injuries from the violent trip across the border and into Camelot’s forests. The knight had obviously found your little form in the woods and picked you up to take you into the city.
At that thought, the gait of the knight’s horse changed, and his large cape floated away from you, letting you peak into the bustling city as the gates were opened. You could see very little, since you had to crane your neck around in an odd position, thanks to the knight’s long fingers securing your body.
Everything is going so fast.
You had never been in a city before, or even a place with more than twenty people milling about. Sure, the clan had a lot of people, but that was mostly family. These were strangers. Loud strangers. Talking, laughing, greeting the knight you were pressed up against. You wished you could sort out all of the noise, try and figure out this mystery man’s name, but there was just so much going on. You could hear the horse’s hoofbeats, a nearby vendor hawking his cheese—finest cheese in all of Camelot, aged to perfection!—and a mother scolding her sons for roughhousing near her good plates. And the smells too! Oh, there were almost too many to handle, with ripe fruit and spices and freshly baked bread all assaulting your nose at once, it made you sneeze.
That hurt. Your chest and your leg.
You mewled just a little, wriggling in the knight’s grasp again, wanting to be set free so you could curl up in a quiet, clean place.
“Shh, shh, little one,” the man rumbled, scratching your chest a little, “we’re almost there, I just have to drop off Kay at the stables.”
You tired to scratch him. That decidedly did not work in harming him. It did work however, in getting your little claws stuck in the spaces between his chainmail. You tugged and tugged, trying your hardest to get unstuck, getting more and more frustrated by the second.
Does he not notice this??
You meowed at him, opening your tiny maw open wide. You weren’t asking for help, not at all, you just wanted him to know that you wanted down. Yeah, that’s it.
The knight stopped walking, pulling you away from his chest, which was unpleasant, because that welcomed the cold air of the stony hallway you were in to surround you. Now, though, you had a proper look at this knight that found you, even if you were shivering a little.
He was huge. At least a head taller than your uncle, and in your normal form you would have to crane your neck to see him properly. His face, though, was kind as he untangled your little paw from his chainmail, with a little grin making his stubbled jaw much less intimidating.
“There you go, free from your entrapment, my lady,” he said, raising you up to his eye level and scratching your head. It felt good, and you could feel your throat start to purr, closing your eyes as he continued to pet you, “Now, lets get you over to Gaius so he can fix you up and you can get back on your feet.”
You tried to reach out your paw to touch the short-cropped hair on his head, but the knight lowered you back to his body and behind the fluttery wall that was his cape. The journey on was a mystery to you as much as the rest, even if you got new flashes of your environment every time his cape shifted.
Finally, though, the knight stopped, knocking quietly on a wooden door, and when it was answered, you could only make out an older man welcoming him in.
“Now, Percival, what’s happened? Are you hurt?” the older man asked, ushering your large man into the room after he had ducked inside.
Percival? Where have I heard that name before?
“Oh, I’m not hurt,” he started, pulling you away from him, “She is.”
Now, you could see the room and the older man that you assumed was Gaius. He looked very kind, and you were happy that someone who looked so experienced was helping you. But, as you inspected him further, something alighted on your tongue, like electricity. It amplified even more as Gaius reached out for you, trying to check your injuries.
This old healer has magic?
The electric feeling continued on as Percival passed you on, and took his warmth with you, much to your dismay. It wasn’t altogether disagreeable, truly, but it felt odd. You weren’t that uncomfortable as Gaius poked and prodded you, trying to find your injuries, until though, he started to mess around with your leg, making you yowl in pain.
“Sorry little one,” Percival muttered from behind you, bringing his fingers up to run across your back, trying to calm you. Gaius continued his inspection, finding only one more painful spot on your tiny chest.
“Well, it looks like she broke her leg and a few ribs,” Gaius sighed, looking up at Percival, giving you back to him, “Once Merlin gets back from Arthur’s chambers, I’ll get him to help make a splint.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, Gaius, but why can’t you?” Percival asked, scratching your head again and being mindful of your broken leg.
“I have to attend to Uther with Gwen,” Gaius said, sighing deeply again, “but I trust Merlin to make a simple splint.”
As soon as Gaius finished his sentence, someone crashed into the room, rattling the full cabinets, and almost causing a few small bottles to fall.
“Speak of the Devil”