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
Finally
Finding
His
Fee--Wings
By firewolf
November 2009
@>;-'-
As concerned as he was for his
transformed manservant, Arthur knew better than to keep Merlin with him
all day long. He didn’t fancy Merlin listing over to snore in his ear
during a council meeting or worse toppling off his shoulder. Really,
Merlin was a useless bird. Arthur would have sworn birds could
comfortably and securely sleep on a perch without danger of falling off
said perch.
It had taken them ages to find a safe, secure, and shred proof surface
for Merlin to rest on at night. The cushion they finally settled on was
perhaps a lot harder than any decent cushion should be but once Arthur
pounded a deep enough depression in its centre, Merlin could
comfortably settle his feet into it and rest without worry of falling
over on his side or beak. Whatever it was that Merlin tried to convey
with his chirruping for the fuss Arthur paid over his sleeping
arrangements, Arthur thought he managed to be firm that a falcon should
not sleep on its back, sprawled over a bed with wings askew and
extended, whether or not this was apparently how human-Merlin
slept.
However, Arthur could hardly carry Merlin’s ‘bed’ with him to meetings
just because he wanted his falc—manservant nearby and in attendance. It
was at times like that when Arthur really missed having human-Merlin
around. At least then, Merlin could keep busy serving Arthur snacks and
drinks to stay awake. So Arthur would reluctantly leave Merlin with
either Morgana or his Knights when he was attending to his long
neglected duties as the crowned prince. Unfortunately, Arthur was also
finding himself once again unaccountably jealous of the time others
would spend with his Merlin when he couldn’t have him.
Arthur really didn’t mind very much when Merlin spent time with his
Knights. This was usually appreciated by the men too since it often
meant there’d be an audience of ladies who’d turn up to keep Merlin
company while the men trained and showed off for them. The Knights and
ladies had very readily taken to having Merlin as a vehicle for
flirting and Arthur didn’t interfere since he could see that Merlin was
having a great deal of fun too as a go-between. And most importantly,
they would always ask Arthur’s permission before making a request of
Merlin that might require significant effort from him. (Unstated in the
asking of course was also the promise that his falc—manservant wouldn’t
be injured if they had him flying for them. Even after all these
months, the little falcon’s landings were still utter rubbish making
Arthur wonder if it was possible to ever get Merlin over his often
paralysing fear of heights.)
In truth, it was also quite entertaining to watch the Knights or the
Court Ladies with Merlin, especially when they were describing their
love to him. To make himself understood, Merlin often used his wings
like hands and employed his whole skinny falcon body in a way that made
him astoundingly understandable to the humans talking to him; short,
tall, skinny, fat, coy, shy, fierce, proud... Merlin had a very
extensive range of expressions and impressions. The ladies were very
appreciative and amused with Merlin’s entertaining and often
exaggerated pantomime of their various suitors. It certainly set a few
of the Knights thinking and ribbing each other too when they noticed
Merlin’s performance as he portrayed each them. At the least, he got
Sir Elyan more conscious about using a handkerchief and to stop picking
his nose in public.
According to a naughtily giggling Morgana, the tiny falcon even had a
sly gesture with the Knights which apparently had all of the men giving
him a mass double take the first time he used it. Arthur wasn’t quite
sure he believed a bird had the muscles or dexterity necessary in its
wings to make a gesture of cupping a pair of exaggeratingly large
breasts.
Unfortunately, leaving the little falcon with his Knights always meant
his Merlin would end the day in Lancelot’s company. And this often led
to Arthur not being able to find either of them later in the afternoon
since Gaius regularly conscripted them to gallivant in the forest
outside the castle to harvest herbs for him.
When Merlin was human, Arthur never begrudged him the time away from
his side for this duty. And really, he knew he hadn’t any place to
object to the kind assistance Lancelot offered Gaius while Merlin was
so handicapped. But Arthur didn’t like the feeling he got in the pit of
his stomach when he looked out of his window on these evenings to see
Lancelot returning to the castle and ‘chatting’ so amicably with his
Merlin on his shoulder. Arthur would admit to himself then that in all
these months he still never really got over the fact Merlin had been
friends with the commoner-Knight first.
On the other hand, when he left Merlin with Morgana, it felt seemingly
worse since it meant his falcon could very often be found riding on her
maid servant’s shoulder or in the crook of her arm as Guinevere moved
around the castle to complete her chores. And this would remind Arthur
of the many rumours which abounded in the castle regarding their
closeness, and as a courting couple.
Inadvertently, these kinds of days would have Merlin returned to a
rather grumpy and short tempered Prince. And since Merlin couldn’t
speak and attempt to banter Arthur out of his bad mood, he’d go quiet
instead which would make Arthur feel even worse and guilty for his bad
humour. On those nights when they’d settle in to sleep, Arthur would
find himself staring at his little Merlin on his cushion by the
fireplace and really think about how much he missed human-Merlin.
*~*~*
After three months of struggle (though thankfully with the infinite
patience and assistance of Arthur, his Knights, and the Court ladies)
Merlin finally had enough of his flying and landing problems. As
annoyed and upset as he was with the Dragon, the beast was the only
sentient flying creature he knew and Merlin desperately needed guidance.
However, Merlin hadn’t visited or spoken to the dragon since he stormed
out of the cave to try and save his mother and later Gaius, so he
wasn’t exactly sure of the reception he’d receive if he suddenly
appeared again. In any case, Merlin knew enough not to approach empty
handed. So late one night after he was sure Arthur was fast asleep and
wouldn’t miss him, Merlin sneaked away to visit the Dragon.
He made a detour to the kitchens first to pilfer a brace of left over
roast geese from the last feast, nimbly slipped past the bored guards
and hopped down the stairs into the dragon’s lair with his stash of
food. As he neared the entrance to the cave, Merlin carefully warmed
the cooked birds. And having smelt the approaching meal, the dragon was
already settled on his rocky perch when Merlin sent a bird flying out
of the cave mouth straight into its jaws.
After the fourth and last bird was crunched up and swallowed, the
dragon finally deigned to speak. “Very well, young Warlock, we’ll hold
a truce. What did you want to ask?”
Merlin let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding for the
relief that the dragon was willing to accept his olive brunch. They had
their differences, But Merlin realised that they still had a common
goal in seeing Arthur eventually crowned and guided to be a better King
than his father.
If the Dragon was still upset with Merlin, he didn’t show it when
Merlin stepped onto the ledge. In all honesty, it wasn’t able to
display even a smidgen of bad temper at the sight of him. It had never
occurred to Merlin that the Dragon didn’t know how the Gods of the Old
Religion had punished him. And he would probably have enjoyed the sight
of the dragon rendered completely speechless if the great lizard hadn’t
practically collapsed on its side to roar with laughter over his
unfortunate situation.
“How—how small you are for such a great destiny’ I—I recall
saying—saying to you when we first met.” Merlin steamed with annoyance
as he could observe the Dragon desperately trying to be solemn and
serious and failing to. “And now—now you’ve—you’ve returned even—even
*smaller*.”
In hind sight, Merlin supposed he shouldn’t have started hopping up and
down on the ledge and screeching at the Dragon, because it took a very
long time for the laughing lizard to get himself under control to speak
to him. It also made Merlin think quite sourly that the Dragon had far
too many teeth. Eventually though, the Dragon finally managed to calm
down to listen to the transformed sorcerer, so Merlin chirruped his
question timidly, thankful that the Dragon could still understand him
despite his complete change of specie.
“Yes, young warlock. I can still see that your destiny is still
entwined with Arthur. Though perhaps—perhaps your part in it isn’t—
isn’t as *large* anymore.”
Merlin glared at the grinning dragon. Still, an amused dragon was
better than an angry lizard. So since it was obviously in a good mood,
Merlin made his request of this only flying creature he knew.
*~*~*
It took a while, but Lancelot eventually understood his birdie-friend’s
request to procure him a block of wood. A task which was not too
difficult given the entire forest they could roam in when gathering
Gaius’ herbs.
Once back in Merlin’s old room at Gaius’ quarters, the newly minted
Knight watched with fascination and awe as his friend worked his magic
on the block of wood. The falcon’s brown eyes had glowed molten while
gold shards of light carefully burned and carved into the wood, causing
a fantastic creature to slowly take form. Lancelot stared at the
finished wooden carving. And while he couldn’t have known it, Merlin
had really out done himself in this exquisite arm-length replica of the
dragon under the castle.
“Do I want to know?” Lancelot asked cautiously. Merlin shook his head
at his friend before looking quite pleadingly up at him. Willing the
man to trust him and not ask too many questions.
Lancelot let out a sigh. “Oookaay—I suppose you’re offering me the
opportunity to claim plausible deniability?” Merlin bobbed his head
with an encouraging chirrup, and turned away for a moment to use his
wings to brush stray wood chips off his work of art.
Lancelot gave him a suspicious look. “This won’t be for something the
Prince would get angry about, would it?” The Merlin rolled its eyes as
it raised a wing to wave it pointedly at the wood chips that was
scattered around the bed, then gave Lancelot a hurt and affronted look.
A snort of laughter escaped the Knight’s lips before he could control
it as he took in the evidence of Merlin’s recent use of magic. “Point
taken.
“You are going to tell the Prince eventually, right? About the magic, I
mean?”
The Merlin hopped up and down on the bed while it flapped its wings and
screeched at him, before folding its wings again and giving him a
troubled expression. Lancelot was hard pushed not to burst out laughing
at his little friend’s antics. Others who watched how the Merlin
communicated with Arthur and his Knights were often astounded by the
ease and understanding among them. While Merlin couldn’t speak in
words, it was still rather obvious he was saying something to the
effect of: “Of course I’ll eventually tell him. If you’ve not noticed,
I’m in a sort of difficult state at a moment which makes it impossible
to carry out a conversation,” and “I hope he understands and accepts
me.”
“He’ll be okay about you, Merlin.” Lancelot reached over to boldly
scratch the little falcon on the head the way he’d seen Arthur do it.
Merlin chirruped timidly at him, accepting the touch but not moving
into it the way he’d respond to Arthur. Lancelot just grinned and
chalked this up as one more point he and the Knights were secretly
tallying up for their betting pool on their bewildered prince and his
oblivious manservant; the pool for when the two would finally declare
their love for each other was growing into a tidy little sum.
The Knights swore him to secrecy about the list when he joined their
ranks. And they claimed that it was growing without pause even after
Merlin was turned into a falcon. Having been at court for just slightly
over a month now, Lancelot readily believed them.
*~*~*
The next time Lancelot brought Merlin out to the forest to harvest
herbs for Gaius they hid the wooden carving and a book of herbs in
their basket. So while Lancelot flipped through the book and attempted
to find the herbs for Gaius on his own, Merlin was left high up on the
branch of a tree with only his wooden carving for company; or so
Lancelot had thought.
Once Lancelot had moved out of sight, Merlin focussed all his attention
on his replica of the Dragon. For the past few months, Merlin had quite
comfortably used his magic around court in a way he’d never have dared
to had he been human. Stopping time wasn’t much good to him in helping
him learn to land. But it had been excellent when Merlin used it
against Arthur’s would-be-assassin during the last tournament. No one
had commented on the little falcon’s speed and skill in catching the
dagger, nor did anyone question his quick, darting attacks upon the
sorcerer which prevented him from using magic.
Drawing and breathing life into wood, however, was going to be a
challenge. Still, despite what Gaius had said to protect him, Merlin
really did have his own as well as Nimueh’s power coursing through his
tiny body.
‘Power over life and death…’ Nimueh had spoken to him about it as if it
was something grand and gifted by the Gods of the Old Religion. Months
wiser and provided more time to reflect on his powers, Merlin had come
to realise he already long had this power in his hands. A telling
demonstration of this was his success in turning a stone dog into
living breathing flesh and blood and later returning it to stone. That
day, he had created life and taken it away again. But because of all
the excitement over Valiant and the snakes in his shield, Merlin had
never even stopped to consider the implications of what he had
accomplished.
This bit of magic expanded on the wooden replica of the Dragon,
however, was significantly different. And since he wasn’t creating life
but drawing the conscious soul and existence of another into his
creation, the spell was thankfully easier to cast and control. Plus,
animating and transforming wood to flesh was much easier than
manipulating stubborn stone.
The miniature dragon let out a full body shudder before it carefully
extended its wings and limbs to examine itself. “Nicely done, young
Merlin. I could actually believe I’m still in my own body. You have me
accurately duplicated right down to the last scale.
“But why so small?”
The Merlin chirruped at the Dragon with an annoyed note making it
chuckle at him in understanding. “Oh, very well. I suppose it is
prudent to stay small and hope to be mistaken for a bird.”
Merlin bobbed his head at the Dragon agreeably. “All right then, young
warlock. As agreed for the gift of these brief moments of freedom, we
begin your first *real* flying lesson.”
*~*~*
On this first day that Gaius finally allowed Arthur to go out on a hunt
with his knights, Arthur had to admit to being very disappointed with
his falcon. He had rather hoped that he could have trained and taught
Merlin how to hunt and catch prey by then, but with the little falcon
still being rubbish at landings when he had to fly at any significant
height, Arthur hadn’t dared risk the tiny bird. (And really, how ever
much he tried to feed and stuff the little bird with good cuts of meat
during meals, Arthur couldn’t understand why Merlin was still so small
and scrawny. Granted that for such a tiny bird, Merlin was still rather
strong and pretty sturdy; Arthur and his Knights could believe it with
the way he could knock them off their feet during the many failed
flying and landing lessons they’d conduct without injury to himself.)
At the least, the falcon made less noise on a hunt than human-Merlin,
and he quite happily sat on the travel packs of the pack horse to
follow the hunting party. Much to the Knights’ and Arthur’s amusement,
they learned that if they gave Merlin the reins, he could also easily
steer the pack horse to follow them at a distance, even if it did take
the animal a little while to get use to being guided by its reins
without a human nearby.
Finally out on a hunt again and freed of the castle, Arthur was
probably quite a bit more eager than he cared to admit. While he’d
taken up his princely duties in the castle a couple of weeks earlier,
Gaius still hadn’t allowed him to return to his physical activities of
training the knights and hunting. So Arthur had been going completely
stir-crazy and impatient to get out. However, he probably should have
been a little more prudent and more willing to listen to his knights.
“Er—Sire? Perhaps we had better move further down to cross the river.”
Sir Leon called out cautiously as he saw the Prince approach the wooden
log that joined the two banks.
“Nonsense, we have a ready bridge here.” Arthur waved to the log as he
started to walk across.
“Sire!” Lancelot called out hastily. “I believe Sir Leon was just
expressing caution. I had used this bridge myself over a month back,
and I didn’t think it was very sound then. In the intervening time…”
Merlin also called out to him worriedly as he reined in the pack horse
near the bridge. The horse refused to even approach.
“You’ve become a bunch of old women.” Arthur called back as he swiftly
moved to the centre of the bridge and stamped a foot on it. “See? It’s
perfectl—”
The Knights and falcon cried out in alarm as the log gave way under
Arthur without even the decency of releasing a loud crack. Before
Arthur realised what was happening he was sucked down by the swift
flowing river, and the shouts and cries of his knights sounded very far
away from him.
Merlin, however… Arthur wondered why he could hear his Merlin
screeching so clearly when he was still underwater and struggling to
reach the surface. He felt more than heard a huge disturbance slightly
behind him and suddenly Arthur felt claws clutching his collar and
shortly his head broke the surface.
“Me—Mer—Merlin?” Arthur coughed as he tried to clear his lungs while
his falcon flapped furiously in the attempt to keep his head above the
water. Merlin screeched back, and it took Arthur a moment to regain his
senses to realise that the falcon was desperately trying to drag him
towards the river bank where his Knights were shouting to them and
running alongside to keep pace with their position.
It was a terrifying ten minutes as both Arthur and his bird seeming
sank under the waters a couple of times in the struggle to reach the
river bank, but Merlin determinedly flapped and pulled and eventually
dragged his Prince within reach of the rope that his Knights repeatedly
tossed out to them. With hands firmly clutching the rope which helped
him kick his legs in the right direction and also reeled him in, and a
falcon at his back lending its assistance, Arthur finally came close
enough to the river bank for his knights to grab him by the arms and
pull him out.
Back on shore, Arthur was quickly stripped of his wet clothes, wrapped
up in the cloaks of his knights and seated on a log while one of them
started a fire nearby to get him warm again. “Merlin?” His falcon was
his first thought as Arthur realised he’d lost track of the little bird
when he had been stripped of his jacket.
“He’s right here, Sire. He’s okay.” Lancelot brought the shivering bird
to him wrapped up in another cloak.
Panting a little from fright and his exertions, Arthur patted dry the
tiny falcon and sat him on the log beside him. “Thank you, Merlin. But
are you really, okay?”
The tiny falcon shook off the cloak to look up at his prince and
chirruped at him insistently. Arthur couldn't help but laugh at the
tiny bird’s rather clear expression. “I’m all right, Merlin. Really,
stop being such a girl about the whole thing.”
The Merlin stared intently at Arthur for a moment before giving him a
decisive nod and a last chirrup, and then darted in to swat Arthur
upside the head with a wing. More shocked than hurt, Arthur stared at
his Merlin. “Hey! What was that for?”
The falcon started hopping up and down on the log and screeching at
him. Around him, the Knights could barely keep a straight face at the
antics of the tiny bird. While Arthur momentarily couldn’t help having
his head follow the up and down movement of his falcon.
Realising what he was doing, Arthur shook his head and peered down at
the little bird. “Merlin, you do know l really don’t understand what it
is you’re screaming at me about?”
A guffaw from Sir Leon brought Arthur’s attention to him. “Well, Sire.”
The man was very carefully polite and diplomatic with his words.
“Earlier, we were talking about not trusting that bridge. Perhaps, he’s
just expressing his anger for the scare you just gave all of us.” The
Merlin shook its feathers out and gave Sir Leon a sharp nod and a chirp
as if in agreement.
“Well—?” Arthur squirmed guiltily in the warm cloaks as he looked up at
his Knights who were valiantly trying to keep a straight face. “We
wouldn’t have known for sure if I hadn’t tried it—”
It happened so fast, Arthur at first wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined it,
but he could have sworn he saw a flash of blue at the Merlin’s mouth.
“Did—did you just stick out your tongue at me?”
The Merlin turned around and pointedly showed Arthur his back and
wiggled his tail feathers at him. “Now see here, Merlin! Bird or not
you’re not supposed to be disrespectful to me!” Arthur stared at his
falcon in outrage. The falcon just looked over a shoulder to give
Arthur an evil eye and went back to turning its nose—beak away from him.
That was the last straw for the Knights of Camelot. No one would ever
admit to having started it, but before another minute passed all the
Knights were slapping their knees and laughing loud enough to have the
sound boom through the forest. (In effect, completely destroying any
hope of a decent hunt after this; which Arthur would later swear was
Merlin’s fault again, and that even as a falcon his manservant was
still mucking up his hunt. But that’s a debate for another time.)
Arthur huffed in mock exasperation at his Knights, but he was sorry and
embarrassed for the fright he gave them and could appreciate the humour
of the current situation. However, while he knew his Knights would
forgive him, he still had a very angry falcon to make amends to.
Fortunately, the Prince had a trick or two he had learnt about his
Merlin since his transformation.
Arthur wiggled an arm free of the cloaks and reached over to stroke a
finger over Merlin’s head to gently scratch him in a way he knew he’d
get his little falcon humming in appreciation. Lancelot bit his lip as
he exchange looks with the other knights while they watched Merlin’s
tensed little body practically melt under the Prince’s caresses and
begin pushing against his hand.
“Okay, I’ll admit I was—a little over eager. Is that good enough?”
Arthur asked as the falcon turned around to face him again. It let out
a little huff, but bobbed its head before staring up at his Prince.
“And—that really was *impressive*, Merlin” Arthur told him with a touch
of astonishment. “Now that I think about it, you took to the air and
dived into the waters to catch me by my jacket’s collar.” Looking
towards Lancelot, Arthur felt something twist in his stomach as he set
eyes on his newest Knight. “Did *you* teach him how to do that?”
“What? Me?” Lancelot shook his hands in front of him in denial. “No,
not at all, I mean—’yes’ either Guinevere or I would bring Merlin out
to the woods nearly every day, but we always left him up a tree while
we’d look for Gaius’ herbs or Morgana’s flowers.”
The knot in Arthur’s stomach eased as he looked at his falcon again.
“So you’ve just been practicing on your own?”
The Merlin shifted from foot to foot in a manner Arthur would have
called shy and embarrassed if it was done by a human child. “I thought
we were being supportive?” Merlin bobbed his head and extended a wing
to tap Arthur’s arm as he chirruped at him.
“Well, maybe he just wanted to practise in private… somewhere where
there isn’t an audience.” Lancelot suggest to Arthur as they all looked
at the tiny falcon. “You know— it could just be performance anxiety?”
The falcon’s jaw dropped as it turned to gape at Lancelot. And the dark
haired Knight realised then what he had just said. Again, no one quite
knew who started it, but Arthur and his fellow Knights were very
quickly roaring with laughter while it looked like the Merlin was about
to hyperventilate.
“Er—Merlin? You know I didn’t mean ‘that’, don’t you?” Lancelot started
backing away nervously. “Not that I’m trying to suggest anything.
And—anyway it’s not as if you’re looking to engage in *that* kind of
activity any time soon when you’re in this state, right?”
The Merlin screeched as he launched himself off the log at the fleeing
man.
*~*~*
Uther sighed as he pointed his horse and attending Knights towards the
sound of laughter again. He knew Arthur was out hunting, but he thought
his son and Knights knew better than to make a lot of noise and chase
away all the game in the area. (And he could also have sworn that
Arthur’s hunting party was leagues away where they weren’t in danger of
crossing paths.)
When he came upon his son’s party though, Uther wasn’t sure of what to
think as he and his Knights found themselves watching a scene where a
tiny falcon was screeching and diving at a hapless Knight (the new one,
Lancelot wasn’t it?) and swatting him over the head with his wings as
the man cried out his apologies. While a little distance away, Arthur
and his knights were sitting or standing around a fire and roaring with
laughter.
Uther opened his mouth to call down to his son and his party, but
thought better of it. He didn’t think he was *that* curious to find out
what had just happened. Still… Uther turned to look at the Knights
attending him and found that a few of them were practically turning
purple while the others were trying valiantly to softly cough in their
gloves.
Uther sighed. “All right, let’s ride a bit further away so Arthur and
his party won’t hear us then you can go right ahead.”
The King smiled indulgently at his Knights as they surrounded him with
laughter during the ride back to Camelot. When he thought of it, it was
quite true that his son’s falc—manservant had created quite a challenge
in Court for the Knights and the guards to maintain their dignity in
not giggling and laughing out loud at his antics. As King though, Uther
quite proudly asserted his superiority over everyone else with his self
control. He’d laugh when he was back in the privacy of his Chambers.
If the King appeared to be spurring his horse a little bit faster than
usual, his attending Knights were polite enough not to mention it.
~end~