Fanfic, Arthur/Merlin, An Owl Is A Fowl, A Hare Is Just There.
Title: An Owl Is A Fowl, A Hare Is Just There.
Author:binglejells
Rating: PG for kissage right at the end.
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin established relationship.
Length: 1876
Warnings: Mentions of hunting/trapping.
Spoilers:None, near future fic, AUish
Disclaimer:Merlin and Co. belong to the BBC and Shine. I own nothing. No sue the starving student.
Author‘s Note: PLOT-if-FIC-us the bunny bit me in the butt. Literally. Also, because Archimedes was one of my imaginary friends growing up. I always wanted an owl. Thank you to nahara for her very first beta job! Well done!
In the three years since Arthur had been crowned king, Merlin found himself gaining things he had never even dreamed of having before. Huge chambers and spaces of his very own to do with as he pleased, luxurious furniture, rich clothes, food fit for kings (and half the time it was Arthur’s dinner shared on to his plate) and, much to Merlin’s amusement, an unusual collection of followers.
After his appointment as Royal Advisor and Court Sorcerer, there had been a flurry of excited and highly curious people who had pin-pointed Merlin as some sort of new icon. Arthur, not to be out done in his own powerful new role, firmly squashed the excitement with strict laws pertaining to magic. Only under training and license was magic permitted and therefore, Merlin had found himself with a selection of youngsters whom he affectionately dubbed ‘The Familiars’.
The Familiars took lessons outside where they might learn more about magic from just books and their teacher. Merlin who was still only in his late twenties, had yet much more to learn himself. The tower was used for practical lessons and exams, while also doubling as Merlin’s sanctuary and second home. The large, round stone room bore more of his possessions than his actual chambers and week days could always bare a sure sign of someone being home. Of course, his young student familiars were not the only company he seemed to have acquired.
A connection to the magic within the earth as deep as Merlin’s left him with a bond to most creatures he crossed. From the unicorn to the deer, Merlin had never been one for hunting, but now he felt his deep rooted correlations to nature much more intensely. The animals, it seemed, had also got the earth’s message, which was why the young King Arthur Pendragon was entirely unsurprised to find Merlin frequently had some form of feral company in his tower.
Arthur had been understanding of Merlin’s tendencies to cordon himself off from the rest of the castle. He could always be found pouring over his books and mysterious pots of magical…stuff, in his tower or sitting, mending one of the king’s shirts or polishing his sword in his own rooms. The actions seemed to calm Merlin, revert him to his relaxed self, the repetitive motions of his old job giving him something to help accept the changes to his life and to Arthur‘s. Arthur knew all too well that Merlin was not yet entirely comfortable in his new role as Royal Advisor, considering his background as a simple peasant. He also hadn’t quite become accustomed to the baleful stares and curious glances from the other members of court.
Arthur could, therefore, forgive and more importantly, understand Merlin for spending more time than he should in his tower where he felt safe. What Arthur couldn’t understand was why, as he walked up the last flight of stone steps to the tower door, Merlin seemed to be jabbering away to himself when the room was clearly empty of anyone else. The ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign that he had fashioned and hung was in full view and the king had asked the warlock to keep his afternoon free.
“No, it’s no good. I don‘t think he‘ll see it that way!” Merlin’s voice travelled through to the stone staircase, muffled by the heavy wood of the door decorated with the sign. Arthur stopped a moment, gauntleted hand held up and poised ready to knock. The voice went on.
“Stop looking at me like that. It isn’t up to me, and even if it was, what would you suggest I say? Sorry Arthur, you’ll have to go without tonight because I’ve made this new friend and I’m much more interested in his welfare than yours, Sire?”
If it were customary for kings to baulk at hearing certain things, which is it not and so Arthur didn’t, the king would have. As it was, he was too busy running through all the scenarios that his opening the door could create. Who was Merlin talking to? What did Merlin mean ‘go without’? If that incompetent skeleton of a Royal Advisor and Sorcerer (it had been so much easier when it was just ‘manservant’) had gone and found himself someone else to occupy his evenings with… Arthur felt his fists clenching but even in the back of his mind, a small voice reassured him with the words, “Only you, Arthur.” Spoken to him always for their hidden meaning, I love you.
Knocking twice, loud and clear, Arthur entered the circular chamber with the intention of catching Merlin by surprise and finding out just who, exactly, was trying to barge into his time with Merlin.
“Oh there you are, I thought you were going to stand on the door step all day,” Merlin greeted him.
“I…How did you…” Could Merlin see the future now too, he wondered?
“I saw you enter the staircase five minutes ago.” Merlin gestured to the open window where a cool and fragrant breeze filled the room with the scent of earth and horses from down in the courtyard below. A great tawny owl sat perched on the deep stone window sill, his huge red eyes peering curiously at Arthur.
The king was used to Archimedes now, could almost get near him without having the blasted bird chomp at him. He had become used to all the extra company that seemed to be drawn to Merlin now his magic was accepted. He wasn’t, however, prepared for Merlin’s other guest’s rather disrespectful greeting. He sat in a plush, deep velvet cushioned chair on his belly, legs sprawled out behind him, arms in front and head lifted proudly on his strong shoulders. He looked Arthur right in the eye and didn’t look like he was even thinking about bowing.
“What…is that?”
“It’s a hare, Arthur.”
“There’s a rabbit sitting in your chair…And you’re talking to it?”
“Hare, Arthur. He says he needs my help.” Merlin looked down at his shoes poking out from under his long, blue robes and scuffed them on the floor in a show of his old habits.
“Rabbit, hare, I don’t care what it is, what’s it doing in here?” Arthur looked from the hare, who seemed to neither care for the conversation, nor the extra company, to Merlin, who had looked up from his shoes with a helpless expression on his face.
“He followed me up from the kitchen at lunch time. I went down to get something because I wanted to eat up here today and I didn’t realise he was following me until I’d shut the door and found him in my chair.” Merlin looked quite exasperated as if he wasn’t really sure what to do about there being a rabbit - pardon, hare - in his chair. To Arthur it seemed quite obvious.
“Well sling the bloody thing back to the kitchens, then! You’ve already got the owl, I told you, no more pets.”
Archimedes raised his wings and hissed quietly in Arthur’s direction, fixing the king with a scornful look. The king paid no attention, the animal was always in a strop.
“I can’t,” Merlin replied woefully.
“Why not? It can’t be that heavy, just put it outside the door, it will find its own way down and no doubt someone will find him.” It all seemed quite simple to Arthur.
“That’s the problem,” Merlin sighed. “He says he has an appointment with the cooking pot and he wants me to help him avoid it.”
“All this time up here on your own pouring over all these books and pots of goodness knows what isn’t doing you any good, Merlin. You’ve just told me a rabbit has informed you he is tonight’s dinner. I think you ought to have a break, why don’t you come down and take a walk along the battlements?” Arthur looked amused, if slightly concerned by Merlin’s statement.
“Honestly, I’m fine; I’ve been developing a spell for mental communication. The druids have mastered it, the druid boy; you remember the druid boy? He spoke to me lots of times, but I’ve never heard it to be successful with non-magical creatures before. Plotificus agreed to help me with the experiment this afternoon but it’s all done and…Well I can’t send him back down to the cooks now, can I?” Merlin looked at Arthur beseechingly, blue eyes pleading with him to understand, even though Merlin seemed quite surprised to find himself in possession of dinner.
Of course, Merlin never thought of the animals that were caught as dinner. When he was just a manservant with a secret and had to follow Arthur on trapping excursions, he used to give them names, carry the smaller ones back himself and talk to them on the way home. He’d always found it difficult to let them go to the kitchen staff, but then again he had just been a simple, sentimental country boy back then. Now he was a grown man, a powerful warlock. Surely he’d moved on…
“Plotificus?” Arthur asked blankly.
“Well, I couldn’t just go around calling him ‘Hare’ all the time, could I?” Merlin replied, flabbergasted.
“Plotificus?” Arthur asked again, as if he wasn’t quite comprehending the notion of naming his main course.
“Don’t you like it?” Merlin looked slightly mournful as though someone had just squashed his attempts at creativity.
“It’s…different,” Arthur said, slowly.
“You’re going to make me give him back aren’t you? The next time I see him, he’ll be looking up at me from a bowl of stew accompanied by carrots.” Merlin looked almost alarmed at the thought and glanced back at the large, golden hare laying languidly across the overstuffed chair. One huge ear turned slowly outwards as if waiting for the next part of the conversation, the velveteen nose twitched rapidly and the animal’s chin lifted as Merlin’s hand came down to stroke it’s soft head. “He’s very friendly…”
“Hmm, probably as friendly as that cretin,” Arthur mumbled, gesturing to the owl and he rolled his eyes. Of course, he was completely aware of Merlin’s ploy to make him feel guilty, his attempts to appeal to Arthur’s heart for his new friend, the hare that Merlin could hear inside his head. Arthur didn’t feel guilty or bad for the hare at all. In fact he looked like a lovely specimen, great strong legs a nice large belly and a beautiful sandy, golden pelt. Merlin’s forlorn and yet determinedly hopeful facial features, however, did their job the way they always did and Arthur felt himself crumbling.
“Oh for goodness sake, keep him up here until after dinner and then do what ever you want with him! I’m warning you though, you’d better keep him fed and watered, and make sure he’s happy to stay because if you don’t he’ll start biting. My patience is thin enough with the owl giving me the evils.”
Ok, so it was a hare. He could live with sharing his warlock with a hare. It could have been much worse, and even though Arthur was quite positive hares didn’t talk, he was sure he heard a relieved sigh.
The long, grateful kiss from Merlin was worth losing his dinner over.
Author:binglejells
Rating: PG for kissage right at the end.
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin established relationship.
Length: 1876
Warnings: Mentions of hunting/trapping.
Spoilers:None, near future fic, AUish
Disclaimer:Merlin and Co. belong to the BBC and Shine. I own nothing. No sue the starving student.
Author‘s Note: PLOT-if-FIC-us the bunny bit me in the butt. Literally. Also, because Archimedes was one of my imaginary friends growing up. I always wanted an owl. Thank you to nahara for her very first beta job! Well done!
In the three years since Arthur had been crowned king, Merlin found himself gaining things he had never even dreamed of having before. Huge chambers and spaces of his very own to do with as he pleased, luxurious furniture, rich clothes, food fit for kings (and half the time it was Arthur’s dinner shared on to his plate) and, much to Merlin’s amusement, an unusual collection of followers.
After his appointment as Royal Advisor and Court Sorcerer, there had been a flurry of excited and highly curious people who had pin-pointed Merlin as some sort of new icon. Arthur, not to be out done in his own powerful new role, firmly squashed the excitement with strict laws pertaining to magic. Only under training and license was magic permitted and therefore, Merlin had found himself with a selection of youngsters whom he affectionately dubbed ‘The Familiars’.
The Familiars took lessons outside where they might learn more about magic from just books and their teacher. Merlin who was still only in his late twenties, had yet much more to learn himself. The tower was used for practical lessons and exams, while also doubling as Merlin’s sanctuary and second home. The large, round stone room bore more of his possessions than his actual chambers and week days could always bare a sure sign of someone being home. Of course, his young student familiars were not the only company he seemed to have acquired.
A connection to the magic within the earth as deep as Merlin’s left him with a bond to most creatures he crossed. From the unicorn to the deer, Merlin had never been one for hunting, but now he felt his deep rooted correlations to nature much more intensely. The animals, it seemed, had also got the earth’s message, which was why the young King Arthur Pendragon was entirely unsurprised to find Merlin frequently had some form of feral company in his tower.
Arthur had been understanding of Merlin’s tendencies to cordon himself off from the rest of the castle. He could always be found pouring over his books and mysterious pots of magical…stuff, in his tower or sitting, mending one of the king’s shirts or polishing his sword in his own rooms. The actions seemed to calm Merlin, revert him to his relaxed self, the repetitive motions of his old job giving him something to help accept the changes to his life and to Arthur‘s. Arthur knew all too well that Merlin was not yet entirely comfortable in his new role as Royal Advisor, considering his background as a simple peasant. He also hadn’t quite become accustomed to the baleful stares and curious glances from the other members of court.
Arthur could, therefore, forgive and more importantly, understand Merlin for spending more time than he should in his tower where he felt safe. What Arthur couldn’t understand was why, as he walked up the last flight of stone steps to the tower door, Merlin seemed to be jabbering away to himself when the room was clearly empty of anyone else. The ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign that he had fashioned and hung was in full view and the king had asked the warlock to keep his afternoon free.
“No, it’s no good. I don‘t think he‘ll see it that way!” Merlin’s voice travelled through to the stone staircase, muffled by the heavy wood of the door decorated with the sign. Arthur stopped a moment, gauntleted hand held up and poised ready to knock. The voice went on.
“Stop looking at me like that. It isn’t up to me, and even if it was, what would you suggest I say? Sorry Arthur, you’ll have to go without tonight because I’ve made this new friend and I’m much more interested in his welfare than yours, Sire?”
If it were customary for kings to baulk at hearing certain things, which is it not and so Arthur didn’t, the king would have. As it was, he was too busy running through all the scenarios that his opening the door could create. Who was Merlin talking to? What did Merlin mean ‘go without’? If that incompetent skeleton of a Royal Advisor and Sorcerer (it had been so much easier when it was just ‘manservant’) had gone and found himself someone else to occupy his evenings with… Arthur felt his fists clenching but even in the back of his mind, a small voice reassured him with the words, “Only you, Arthur.” Spoken to him always for their hidden meaning, I love you.
Knocking twice, loud and clear, Arthur entered the circular chamber with the intention of catching Merlin by surprise and finding out just who, exactly, was trying to barge into his time with Merlin.
“Oh there you are, I thought you were going to stand on the door step all day,” Merlin greeted him.
“I…How did you…” Could Merlin see the future now too, he wondered?
“I saw you enter the staircase five minutes ago.” Merlin gestured to the open window where a cool and fragrant breeze filled the room with the scent of earth and horses from down in the courtyard below. A great tawny owl sat perched on the deep stone window sill, his huge red eyes peering curiously at Arthur.
The king was used to Archimedes now, could almost get near him without having the blasted bird chomp at him. He had become used to all the extra company that seemed to be drawn to Merlin now his magic was accepted. He wasn’t, however, prepared for Merlin’s other guest’s rather disrespectful greeting. He sat in a plush, deep velvet cushioned chair on his belly, legs sprawled out behind him, arms in front and head lifted proudly on his strong shoulders. He looked Arthur right in the eye and didn’t look like he was even thinking about bowing.
“What…is that?”
“It’s a hare, Arthur.”
“There’s a rabbit sitting in your chair…And you’re talking to it?”
“Hare, Arthur. He says he needs my help.” Merlin looked down at his shoes poking out from under his long, blue robes and scuffed them on the floor in a show of his old habits.
“Rabbit, hare, I don’t care what it is, what’s it doing in here?” Arthur looked from the hare, who seemed to neither care for the conversation, nor the extra company, to Merlin, who had looked up from his shoes with a helpless expression on his face.
“He followed me up from the kitchen at lunch time. I went down to get something because I wanted to eat up here today and I didn’t realise he was following me until I’d shut the door and found him in my chair.” Merlin looked quite exasperated as if he wasn’t really sure what to do about there being a rabbit - pardon, hare - in his chair. To Arthur it seemed quite obvious.
“Well sling the bloody thing back to the kitchens, then! You’ve already got the owl, I told you, no more pets.”
Archimedes raised his wings and hissed quietly in Arthur’s direction, fixing the king with a scornful look. The king paid no attention, the animal was always in a strop.
“I can’t,” Merlin replied woefully.
“Why not? It can’t be that heavy, just put it outside the door, it will find its own way down and no doubt someone will find him.” It all seemed quite simple to Arthur.
“That’s the problem,” Merlin sighed. “He says he has an appointment with the cooking pot and he wants me to help him avoid it.”
“All this time up here on your own pouring over all these books and pots of goodness knows what isn’t doing you any good, Merlin. You’ve just told me a rabbit has informed you he is tonight’s dinner. I think you ought to have a break, why don’t you come down and take a walk along the battlements?” Arthur looked amused, if slightly concerned by Merlin’s statement.
“Honestly, I’m fine; I’ve been developing a spell for mental communication. The druids have mastered it, the druid boy; you remember the druid boy? He spoke to me lots of times, but I’ve never heard it to be successful with non-magical creatures before. Plotificus agreed to help me with the experiment this afternoon but it’s all done and…Well I can’t send him back down to the cooks now, can I?” Merlin looked at Arthur beseechingly, blue eyes pleading with him to understand, even though Merlin seemed quite surprised to find himself in possession of dinner.
Of course, Merlin never thought of the animals that were caught as dinner. When he was just a manservant with a secret and had to follow Arthur on trapping excursions, he used to give them names, carry the smaller ones back himself and talk to them on the way home. He’d always found it difficult to let them go to the kitchen staff, but then again he had just been a simple, sentimental country boy back then. Now he was a grown man, a powerful warlock. Surely he’d moved on…
“Plotificus?” Arthur asked blankly.
“Well, I couldn’t just go around calling him ‘Hare’ all the time, could I?” Merlin replied, flabbergasted.
“Plotificus?” Arthur asked again, as if he wasn’t quite comprehending the notion of naming his main course.
“Don’t you like it?” Merlin looked slightly mournful as though someone had just squashed his attempts at creativity.
“It’s…different,” Arthur said, slowly.
“You’re going to make me give him back aren’t you? The next time I see him, he’ll be looking up at me from a bowl of stew accompanied by carrots.” Merlin looked almost alarmed at the thought and glanced back at the large, golden hare laying languidly across the overstuffed chair. One huge ear turned slowly outwards as if waiting for the next part of the conversation, the velveteen nose twitched rapidly and the animal’s chin lifted as Merlin’s hand came down to stroke it’s soft head. “He’s very friendly…”
“Hmm, probably as friendly as that cretin,” Arthur mumbled, gesturing to the owl and he rolled his eyes. Of course, he was completely aware of Merlin’s ploy to make him feel guilty, his attempts to appeal to Arthur’s heart for his new friend, the hare that Merlin could hear inside his head. Arthur didn’t feel guilty or bad for the hare at all. In fact he looked like a lovely specimen, great strong legs a nice large belly and a beautiful sandy, golden pelt. Merlin’s forlorn and yet determinedly hopeful facial features, however, did their job the way they always did and Arthur felt himself crumbling.
“Oh for goodness sake, keep him up here until after dinner and then do what ever you want with him! I’m warning you though, you’d better keep him fed and watered, and make sure he’s happy to stay because if you don’t he’ll start biting. My patience is thin enough with the owl giving me the evils.”
Ok, so it was a hare. He could live with sharing his warlock with a hare. It could have been much worse, and even though Arthur was quite positive hares didn’t talk, he was sure he heard a relieved sigh.
The long, grateful kiss from Merlin was worth losing his dinner over.