DISCLAIMER:
The characters in Merlin
(BBC) belong to Shine
Television and the BBC, etc., i.e., not me.
I'm just borrowing them for a
while to spin a tale
Adapting
to Change
By firewolf
July 2009
@>;-'-
Despite the ‘incident’ with
the goose, Merlin would still occasionally have the difficult day when
he’d refuse to practice flying. On those days, the little raptor would
stubbornly walk off the practise grounds while ignoring the laughing
knights and Arthur’s despairing countenance at his
manser—falcon—manservant’s shameless behaviour.
Then again, to make them stop hackling him, all Merlin had to do was
eye the front line of the laughing Knights, bend forward and wiggle his
tail feathers as if he was about to launch himself at them. The Knights
would rather quickly remember the number of practice dummies the little
falcon had shredded and destroyed since Arthur started trying to teach
him how to fly and land, and they’d scatter. Fast. Those times when
he’d be suddenly left standing alone in the practice yard, Arthur was
never quite sure who to be more exasperated with, his Merlin or his
men.
At the least, Arthur was assured that there were never any hard
feelings between Merlin and his Knights. Merlin had long won the
respect and consideration of Arthur’s Knights with his loyalty and
sacrifice for their Prince. And Merlin never stayed so angry with the
laughing knights that he’d refuse an offered arm to hop on and be
carried back to the Court Physician’s quarters.
It was also good that the knights very willingly assisted in Merlin’s
flying lessons. Of course this was helped in no small part by Morgana
and the many ladies of the court, who would quite happily sit by their
windows while the knights took turns to boost an awkwardly flapping
Merlin up towards them with a trinket in his claws, or a flower
clenched in his beak; and then wait below to catch him as he carried
back ribbons or scarves from the blushing ladies in return.
Arthur might have objected to the blatant use of his falco—manservant
as a tool for flirting between the two groups, but Merlin didn’t seem
to mind and he was getting better at judging his flight to land safely.
In the beginning, it had looked like the little falcon might crash into
the castle wall more often then he’d land at the target window.
However, Merlin was fortunately a quick study when aiming as he flew up
to the ladies. So no one had any worry about his safety, or even the
safety of the participating ladies who were all very quick to coo over
and praise the little raptor when he landed neatly on their window
sill, or on the balcony near them.
Unfortunately, Merlin wasn’t very good coming down, which made Arthur
suspect that his falc—manservant had a fear of heights that made him
clumsy whenever he caught sight of the ground rushing up at him. After
all, there was a time or two when Arthur was sure his poor Merlin only
avoided injury due to his Knights’ attentiveness in catching him before
he went splat on the hard stone of the courtyard. (Of course, no one
ever told Arthur that his Knights feared his retribution too if
anything untoward were to happen to Merlin while he was in their care.)
When flying up to a target or even flying laterally when Arthur would
have his knights tossing the flapping raptor from man to man around the
practice yard, Merlin was catching on quite nicely in landing safely
and lightly upon an offered perch. But the moment he was sent flying up
at any decent height, the little falcon’s return and landing was utter
rubbish. Honestly, Arthur swore Merlin was really the most incompetent
bird alive to be afraid of heights.
Uther was not an ungrateful man. He truly was glad that his son had an
astoundingly loyal and protective servant with Gaius’ apprentice.
However, it was difficult for him to close an eye and deal with the at
times embarrassing antics caused in his court by the (he was sure)
mentally afflicted boy. It wasn’t any better after the boy was turned
into a Merlin either.
Still, he couldn’t say it wasn’t amusing to see the little falcon
walking around his castle. Occasionally, it was even funnier because
the Prince would be seen easily keeping pace as he walked behind
Merlin, and rather obviously nagging him about being a useless bird who
needed to practise and to not give up with the whole flying deal.
Unfortunately, Merlin’s penchant for walking also placed the raptor in
often difficult situations. On one such occasion, Uther was led to
investigate a cacophony of terrible snarls and piercing cries coming
from a corridor he had been passing on his way back to his rooms. Uther
had hurried towards the sounds to come upon his son extracting his
falco—manservant from an altercation with a rather large cat.
“Really, Merlin, have you no sense of self preservation?” The King had
watched with some amusement as his son tried to smooth down Merlin’s
ruffled feathers and check him for injuries while a disgruntled and
equally bedraggled cat slinked away. “You’d run from a goose, but
launch yourself at a cat? What on earth were you thinking?”
At the word ‘goose’, Uther was immediately reminded of a recent feast
and the fervour with which Arthur and his falcon had attacked their
dinner of roast goose that night. It was the same moment Arthur turned
to notice his father’s silent presence. And in one look Uther could see
that his son recognised the suspected knowledge on his face.
It was his son’s bright blush which confirmed Uther’s suspicions as he
also remembered Morgana’s barely concealed humour and twitching lips
that night. Arthur’s face went impossibly redder as Uther’s lips began
to twitch as well.
“Sire.” Arthur bowed stiffly and tried to stride quickly past while
carrying an equally contrite Merlin, but Uther just could not resist
the temptation.
“You know, Arthur… Geese, well—can be—formidable when they put their
mind to it. Swans too, you know?
“Gaius can tell you of the time one of our Knights had an arm broken by
an attacking swan. Terrible beasts…”
Arthur hung his head as he shuffled past, muttering something about
seeing Gaius to make sure Merlin wasn’t seriously hurt by the cat
before scurrying away at all speed. Uther hurried back to his rooms to
laugh into a pillow. It would never do for him to lose his composure in
public; he’d completely ruin his reputation as a severe and serious
King. But by Gods, he hadn’t had this much fun in ages.
For all the amusement and comedy that had entered their lives since
Arthur’s manservant became his Merlin, there were times when Uther
would be reminded of the falc—boy’s loyal and protective nature.
And Uther really could not ever fault Merlin’s devotion to his son no
matter what form he’s in.
In celebration of his son’s recovery from the poison of the Questing
Beast, Uther had held a special weeklong festival tournament. And in
consideration for Arthur’s earlier expressed views, Uther had allowed
the participation of commoners; with the winner being offered gold as
well as the opportunity to join the Knights of Camelot.
The slight bending of the rules was worth the delight and joy that his
son had expressed at this generous offer; especially when the formerly
disgraced fake-noble, Lancelot had returned to Camelot to take part in
the tournament. It was also a good distraction for Arthur when his son
was still too weak to take part in the tournament himself, and was
reluctantly relegated to sitting with him and Morgana in the audience.
Magical treachery, however, never seemed to take a holiday. And Uther
was reminded of how glad he was for Merlin’s transformation into his
namesake when the little raptor had launched himself from his son’s
chair to catch a dagger that a disguised sorcerer contestant had thrown
at him after unfairly defeating Lancelot, who had been his final
opponent.
The Merlin was magnificent in his attack, and Uther would not be
ashamed to say that he had been truly stunned breathless by the
ferocity with which the little raptor had assaulted the
would-be-assassin. Merlin had even used the sorcerer’s own dagger
against him, having gripped it firmly in his claws to slash at the man
as he winged in and out in tight circles around the cursing man who
kept trying to swing his shield at the Merlin and missing. Uther could
tell by the man’s unevenly glowing hand that the sorcerer repeatedly
tried to cast a spell, but the Merlin was harassing him too much;
distracting him long enough for Lancelot to regain consciousness and
come to his feet with his sword in hand once more.
The battle that followed of sorcerer versus knight-hopeful and
enchanted Merlin was nothing short of spectacular. The Merlin kept the
sorcerer from casting spells with his slashing attacks, allowing the
desperate sorcerer room only to fight with sword and shield against
Lancelot. And in this battle with blades alone, Lancelot was clearly
the better man. It did not take long at all for the determined
knight-hopeful to bring the battle to an end with a sword through the
sorcerer’s heart.
The sudden start and end of the drama had shocked everyone into
silence. But the moment the sorcerer fell and the Merlin soared
overhead with a triumphant scream, the entire crowd had roared and
clapped their approval for the dazzling save of their beloved prince.
Unfortunately, the elation at the royal stands quite quickly turned to
chagrin when Uther’s son gave him an embarrassed look. Uther could only
sigh as he gestured for the guards to politely clear the stands and
leave the grounds to be secured by Arthur and his Knights.
“Arthur, you *really* need to teach your Merlin how to land. It’s
rather--”
“Shameful.” Arthur huffed as he eyed the circling Merlin. “I know—he
knows it too, but Merlin’s—afraidofheights.”
Uther thought he hadn’t heard that right. “Arthur? He is a bird…”
“And a most incompetent one.” Arthur pouted as he noticed the knights
standing on the tournament grounds staring fearfully up at the Merlin.
“Merlin! Will you please drop the dagger?! No one will offer to catch
you if they’re in danger of being stabbed!”
The Merlin screeched down at Arthur, but he did swoop down to send the
dagger flying at a conveniently placed archery target. Taking the hint
as well, the group of knights got into a huddle and were apparently
drawing straws until one unfortunate fellow was finally chosen.
“You should give Merlin a break, Arthur. He is trying. And—after all,
he wasn’t born a bird.” Morgana seemed the only one willing to defend
the hapless Merlin.
“Yes, but really—I’ve talked to Gaius regarding stories about animal
transformations. And I had always thought the instincts of the animal
were given to the sorcerer when they transformed themselves.”
“But Merlin didn’t transform himself.” Morgana reminded Arthur.
“According to Gaius, he collapsed into this form involuntarily when
they left the Isle of the Blessed.”
“Involuntary or not, he’s a bird. You’d think the instincts should go
with the form.” Arthur protested reasonably.
Uther was only half listening to his son and ward. Most of his
attention was on the archery target where Merlin had released the
dagger. The dagger was still vibrating where it had landed dead centre
in the target, and the King was wondering if this was deliberate.
A cry from the circling Merlin brought their attention back to it, and
to the ‘lucky’ knight who was now well bundled and padded by his
comrades about neck, shoulders, chest and helmeted head with wall
hangings obviously confiscated from the walls of the tournament
grounds. The Merlin cried out again.
“No, they’re not trying to be insulting, Merlin!” Arthur called to the
raptor which screeched back at him. “Yes, the precautions are
warranted! You still don’t know your own strength, Merlin!
“Now come on down!” Arthur continued as the other knights nodded to him
and backed away from their fortified companion. “Sir Caradoc’s as ready
as he can be to catch you!”
Merlin tried, but he still whumphed into the Knight’s chest with enough
force to knock him off his feet and send him flying back several
metres. Lancelot hurried over to lift the stunned Merlin off the fallen
knight.
“Thank you, Sir Caradoc. Are you all right?” The knight moaned from
where he was lying flat on his back. “Er… Gaius!”
A couple of knights strode over to help their comrade sit up while they
unwrapped the wall hangings from around him to let the court physician
give him a check up. Lancelot left them to it to approach the audience
stand and pass the still slightly dazed Merlin up to Arthur.
“Nothing’s broken, right, Merlin?” Arthur asked the little falcon
gently as he shifted it to the crook of his arm. Merlin chirruped back,
shook his head then looked up at his prince before turning his gaze on
their friend.
“I’m not about to forget the victor in our tournament, Merlin.” Arthur
turned to grin at Lancelot. “Well done… Sir Lancelot.”
The dark-haired man blushed with the sudden attention of the royal
crowd, but he was also a bit shy with the praise. “Sire, really…
Perhaps it wasn’t a fair contest when there was that sorcerer—”
The Merlin screeched at him, making Arthur laugh. “I believe Merlin
here wants you to shut up and just accept the well earned recognition.”
“But Merlin—I couldn’t have handled the sorcerer without your—” The
raptor chirruped decisively and glared at Lancelot, making him forget
his words.
“Let it go, Lancelot.” Arthur stroked his falcon on its head, “Yes,
Merlin did very well indeed to distract the sorcerer. But it was your
sword that found his heart.”
Uther could only raise an eyebrow at his son for the exchange between
the two young men and the falcon. “He can’t actually speak, can he,
Arthur?”
“No, of course he can’t speak. He’s a falcon.” Arthur gave his father a
suspicious look. Merlin chirruped at him again. “We’ll ask—”
“I’m quite all right, Sire, Merlin.” Sir Caradoc wheezed a bit as he
was helped towards the audience stands. “Just had the wind knocked out
of me, that’s all. I’m barely bruised.”
Uther looked from Arthur to his knights. Arthur just sighed as he
rolled his eyes. “It’s just—very obvious what he’s trying to say,
father. After all, he is rather simple.”
The Merlin screeched at Arthur for that, and even Uther could concede
that he understood the bird was expressing his displeasure at being
insulted. Arthur chuckled as he cocked his head towards his knights and
they started to follow him, Morgana, Lancelot and Merlin off the
tournament grounds.
Uther wasn’t inclined to follow just yet. Instead, he strode towards
the archery target with the dagger still embedded in it. Gaius
approached him as he pulled the dagger out of the target. “Sire?”
“Hmm?”
“Is something the matter? Do you believe the dagger to be poisoned?”
Gaius asked him curiously.
Uther looked at the dagger and carefully offered it to Gaius. “We
probably should have this checked.” But he said little else.
A couple of days later, Arthur and Merlin were looking into the box
which his father’s manservant delivered to his chambers. Merlin
chirruped questioningly from where he sat on Arthur’s shoulder.
Arthur could only shrug as he picked up the wicked looking blades
attached to the leather straps. “It looks like—” The prince eyed his
Merlin’s talons from the corner of his eye, “something which could be
strapped to your claws.”
Arthur winced as Merlin screeched in his ear. “Ow! Merlin, you don’t
have to scream at this proximity. And ‘yes’ you do enough damage with
your talons as they currently are.
“But I have a feeling that my father would like me to train you as a
weapon.”
The raptor chirruped with a tone of hurt displeasure. “Hey, Gaius and
Geoffrey are trying their best with their research, but it wouldn’t be
too bad to make the best out of a horrible situation, right?”
The little Merlin glared at him. Arthur just smirked back as he lifted
the gift from his father out of the box. It was rather a relief to, for
once, have his father’s amusement and approval with regards to Merlin.
~end~