[BBC Merlin]: Dabbling in Falconry - Chapter 4
Title: Dabbling in Falconry
Fandom: BBC Merlin
Characters: Merlin, Gaius, Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, Arthur, Percival, Leon
Warnings: None. Though there will be spoilers if you haven't seen series' 1-3.
Summary: Once again, Merlin finds himself in a bit of a situation after he performs a transfiguration spell in his sleep. Things can only get worse when Gwaine gets involved - not to mention when a stressed-out prince and the rest of the knights join in. Can Merlin keep his secret and change back?
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
-~-PF-~-
[Chapter 4]
Chapter 4
With the wind teasing at the feathers all over his body, the sun on his back and the thrill of motion in his stomach: nothing had ever felt more exhilarating.
Merlin couldn't accurately describe what he was feeling, but it was definitely one of the best feelings he'd ever had. Even flying with Kilgharrah - what with the sheer speed and the fact that he had known he was riding a dragon - couldn't compare to the fact that he was soaring through the air on his own power. He was the one in control right now and it was amazing.
Adjusting the angle of his wings slightly, Merlin tilted his body to the left and headed towards the forest surrounding Camelot.
Much like the feeling of exhilaration as he was flying, Merlin also didn't really understand exactly how he was even in the air. All he knew was that if he held his wings into the wind at a certain angle, he could feel them being pushed up slightly and this was what was making him float through the air. His tail kept him level and seemed to slow him down the further out he fanned it. Sticking his legs out also seemed to slow him down, so he kept them tightly tucked to his underside. If he wanted to change direction, he had to tilt down the wing on the side he wanted to turn in whilst raising the opposite one. It took a while, and resulted in quite a few sickening lurches in his stomach as he wobbled in space, but he was getting the hang of it. He knew that if anything other than a bird attempted this, then they wouldn't fly at all. Merlin guessed it was probably the feathers that made the difference - it was the only explanation he could think of as only birds have feathers.
But there was one major issue: height.
It soon became apparent to Merlin that he was still falling; albeit in a controlled manner. Obviously there was something that he still wasn't doing right, because after jumping out of the council chamber window - which Merlin still thought was hilarious - the ground had gradually gotten closer. Despite what it may have looked like to the knights, Merlin knew it wasn't wise to view the landing he had made on the window-sill as anything other than a fluke until he had repeated the action at least twice more.
This was why he decided to head to the forest, because he better fancied his chances of landing in a tree than landing on stone... he had already learnt his lesson there; despite being a little more resilient in this form, he did have one doozy of a headache from his brief acquaintance with the door. He didn't want a repeat of that and Gaius had warned him not to try anything unnecessary until another time. Too late now, but still...
For a while, Merlin just allowed himself to glide through the clear autumn skies. However, soon enough, he couldn't help himself; he was already out now, he may as well figure out the other part of flying while he could, right?
The warlock had seen plenty of birds in flight and knew that the secret to gaining height was flapping. Deciding he had nothing to lose, Merlin glanced at both wings - that was another thing, he could look at both at the same time with separate eyes, how cool was that? - before giving them an experimental flap.
Big mistake.
The downward motion was fine, but as he raised his wings back up again the wind seemed to catch on them, jarring them uncomfortably backwards. This destroyed the streamlining he'd had and caused him to plummet like a stone; unable to open his wings against the rushing air. With his stomach doing sickening somersaults along with his body, Merlin screamed - the noise sounding oddly human, like that of a child - as he fought desperately to stop his death spiral toward the ground below. His terrified shout startled a flock of pigeons, which shot past him in a mess of feathers and rustling wings.
By sheer force of will Merlin managed to spread his wings once more, the muscles along his back and in his chest being pulled painfully as the wind mercifully caught them and allowed him to glide once more. Blood rushing in his ears and heart beating furiously, Merlin kept his wings rigidly straight as he fought to regain both his breath and his wits.
Holy hell he did not want a repeat of that.
Unfortunately, it looked like Merlin wasn't going to get much of a choice. His impromptu dive had brought him dangerously close to the ground and although he was crossing over a field right now, the forest was rapidly approaching... with him only about ten feet from the ground.
Knowing that unless he gained altitude he was going to end up with his face painfully meeting solid oak again, Merlin glanced frantically towards the fleeing pigeons. It was then that the warlock realised his mistake. As the birds flapped they pushed their wings downwards before pulling them backwards towards their tail and half-closing them, then lifting them high and straightening them out wide again. Before, Merlin had simply waved his wings directly up-and-down, which was incorrect - he needed to move them in a sweeping motion.
Having no time left and being too terrified to consider the consequences of failure or any other, more magical options that could be open to him, the warlock copied the birds.
Flap.
Merlin's whole body jerked, causing him to pitch forward and have to frantically compensate for it with his tail.
Flap.
His flight steadied and there was a slight pull at the back of his neck as he felt himself speed up, the trees coming towards him at a more alarming rate.
Flap.
Merlin put all the strength he had into the downward stroke. His shoulders - already aching - screamed in protest, but he was too preoccupied to even remotely care. He felt his head push downwards slightly.
Flap.
He was still accelerating. But this time Merlin felt a greater push down on his head and he dared to hope was gaining height.
Flap.
He was!
Still flapping furiously Merlin saw the ground start to fall away. But he was much too close to the trees and, all too soon, he found himself amongst the lower branches. The warlock knew he wouldn't be able to break through the canopy without risking braining himself, so he did the only thing he could: he tried to stop.
Eyes locking on the closest branch, Merlin leaned back, lowered his tail and reached out with his feet. He was too slow, and paid the price for his acceleration. Although the bottom half of his body was stopped immediately, his top half kept on going. In a similar manner to his first experience at perching on Gaius' wrist, Merlin somersaulted forwards, head-first. The warlock's momentum carried him round the branch, just-barely managing to cling on with a foot and causing pain to shoot up through one of his toes. Not able to keep a hold, Merlin started to scream again when he began to fall before being cut off as he was suddenly stopped by a thicker, low-lying branch.
With one wing pinned underneath his side and the other dangling out into space, Merlin blinked dazedly a few times - not quite believing that he was safe and alive.
The shock came next, in the form of a wave of lethargy and breathlessness. Closing his eyes and resting his head on the bark in front of him, Merlin remained where he was, breathing hard and trying to settle himself down. Only now that it was beating so hard was he aware of how quickly his bird-heart could beat - almost humming in his chest.
A few minutes passed and gradually Merlin felt the pounding blood in his head subside, allowing him to hear the birds singing in the trees and the wind sighing through the few remaining leaves. Once his heart-rate was back to what he thought was now normal for him, he slowly pushed himself up to standing. But, as he gripped the wood, he felt an unexpected twinge of pain in the same foot as before. Wincing, he found that he had pulled a talon and that it was bleeding slightly around the edges. It was painful, but it could have been so much worse. He decided that there was nothing he could do for it now, so turned his attention to his surroundings.
Merlin was sat in a big hawthorn tree roughly six feet up - most average people would be able to pluck him down - and just on the edge of the field leading up to the castle walls. The main path leading from the forest to the main gate was only a short distance away to his right. The area was quiet; doing wonders on Merlin's frayed nerves and aching body.
Good God his wings hurt.
That was all it took for Merlin to remember. He had flown; for real this time!
Never one to let negative experiences get him down for long; Merlin glanced around for the nearest branch. Spying one, the warlock turned towards it and started bobbing his head as he judged the distance. It was only about twelve feet away and was slightly lower than his current perch - he'd learnt the hard way to start small - but he was more confident now that he knew what he was doing.
Leaping upwards, Merlin drove his wings down hard twice and then he leaned forward and flapped once more before allowing himself to merely glide to his target. He was more prepared for the landing this time, fanning and lowering his tail earlier and even adding a flap directly forwards at the end to stop his forward momentum.
He landed without a single wobble.
Bolstered by that success, Merlin kept repeating these small bursts of flight - an occasional bad landing being his only let-down and even then that was mainly because of his injured toe. He made himself a circuit, moving in a rough circle before deciding he was ready to start extending the flights. Eventually, Merlin was easily flying thirty feet at a time and could ascend almost straight upwards as well as stop. Now on a giddy high in his excitement, he was just considering attempting to fly in the open above the trees again when the sound of horses' hooves carried to his sensitive ears.
Turning his keen eyesight towards the castle, Merlin soon spotted the source of the sound halfway across the field: none other than Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.
Ah yes, Merlin had forgot that he was 'missing'.
Their presence reminded him that Gaius had been going to go to the library to look for any information on transfiguration. Successful or not, the physician was bound to be finished by now and if Arthur had done as he'd said he would have gone to see if Merlin was in their chambers before setting off. In other words, Gaius would know that Merlin had literally flown the coop.
Chastened and more than a little guilty, Merlin was just about to take off for the castle when the group's voices finally carried over to him. Curious, the warlock quietly trailed them; weaving in-between the trees and leap-frogging through the branches of ones he couldn't avoid.
If he hadn't been quite so pumped up with adrenaline, Merlin may have questioned the wisdom of his next idea. In fact, what he heard them saying almost put him off of his brilliant plan straight away. Almost, but not quite, and soon he was melting into the trees with his mind focused on one thing: revenge.
-~-M-~-
Arthur didn't want to admit it, but he was worried.
After that little rat of a bird had escaped out of the window, the prince had decided that there was no better time to go and search for his wayward manservant. As he'd suggested, the group had made their way to Gaius' chambers. But on finding both Merlin and the physician to be absent and pushing aside the twinge of unease that discovery brought, they had then made their way down to the stables and tacked up their horses. Now, they were cantering up the hill towards the forest.
Officially, they were going hunting. However, they never specified what for, so that didn't mean that they couldn't keep an eye out for a certain clumsy, dark-haired man as they were going along.
"You know, Merlin is going to have our heads once he finds out we let his bird escape."
Elyan, however, was a little more sceptical of Gwaine's observation and turned round in his saddle to stare at the knight incredulously.
"Please, Merlin? The man wouldn't hurt a fly."
"You haven't seen him when he's drunk mate."
"Merlin's a violent drunk?" Now it was Leon's turn to be sceptical and he nudged his horse so that it was alongside Gwaine's. "I find that hard to believe."
Arthur did too and he threw his contribution over his shoulder. "Yes. In fact, I don't recall Merlin ever being drunk."
Gwaine actually snorted.
"Like you would know?"
Arthur tried to ignore how much that comment - however true it was - had actually hurt. As a prince, propriety prevented him from being allowed to simply walk into a tavern and have a drink as the rest of the knights here could. The only time he could ever enjoy a drink was in private or at banquets, and only with other high-ranking nobles; in that kind of environment, propriety then prevented Merlin from having a drink.
As a result, even if he had already known Merlin enjoyed a drink sometimes, Arthur would likely have never been around to see him drunk.
So, no, despite knowing that what Gwaine was claiming was likely just a load of bollocks, he really wouldn't know.
The young prince would rather die before admitting this out loud but, despite everything, he did consider Merlin to be his closest friend. Over the months, he and the rest of the knights in the current party had become fast friends. However, it was still Merlin whom he trusted the most - indeed it often seemed that he held the clashing personalities of their rag-tag group together. Deep down, Arthur also knew that at least three of the knights here wouldn't even be in Camelot if Merlin hadn't literally asked for them to come. It was a rare kind of person that could touch that many people of so many different statuses.
Jerking himself out of those thoughts before he got too far into analysing his feelings, Arthur slowed his horse to a trot before twisting to address the others.
"Right then, keep your eyes peeled - most likely situation is that Merlin's asleep under a tree somewhere."
Nothing more needed to be said and after seeing everyone's affirmative nods, Arthur turned forwards again.
"Which merlin are we looking for here?"
Really, by now Arthur supposed that he should know better than to encourage the man by rising to the bait. However, the stress of recent days - along with what he may or may not be willing to admit was worry for his best friend - hindered his judgement.
"Gwaine, I really don't care about a frigging bird."
"Merlin did, he brought it in to nurse it back to health. I'm telling you, he won't be happy if we don't try and find it."
"Merlin has a priority complex. Forgive me if I'm more concerned with finding him than a bloody bird!"
There was moment of quiet before the thudding of hooves preceded Gwaine's appearance at Arthur's side.
"We're worried about him too, Arthur."
It took Arthur's brain a moment to catch up with his mouth. Once he realised what he'd said he opened and closed his mouth a few times before scowling and nudging his horse forward again, putting Gwaine and his sympathy firmly behind him. Percival was the next one to speak from where he was riding at the back.
"Where are the herbs that Gaius uses found? That may help us to know where to start looking."
Everyone turned to Lancelot, who almost always seemed to know of these things. If Arthur were honest, he thought the knight looked a little sullen, almost as if he were sulking - very unlike his usual behaviour. Riding next to Percival, Lancelot looked up from glaring at his mount's mane, seeming to only just realise that he was the subject of their scrutiny.
However, before the knight could say anything, the air was rent by a high-pitched scream, making all six men jump violently.
The sound of steel rang out into the forest as six swords were drawn in unison. Remaining mounted, the knights glanced quickly about themselves.
"Which direction did it come from?"
It had sounded like a child and Arthur narrowed his eyes onto the forest around them, looking for anything that could be considered out of place. He couldn't help but flinch as the scream sounded again from behind him, making the hairs on the nape of his neck rise.
Bringing his horse's head around Arthur called, "To me!" before kicking it into a canter with the rest of the knights charging on his heels. They barely got twenty yards before the scream sounded again. From behind them.
Whoever they were, they must have managed to run past them. Whipping his horse around again - ignoring her snort of protest - Arthur started to set off in the new direction, this time on the heels of his knights. But then the scream sounded again, directly to his left. He turned to face it.
...Only, nothing was there.
Pulling his horse to a halt, Arthur dismounted before giving her a rap on the rump to move her along. The rest of the knights did the same and then seamlessly moved into a circular formation, protecting each others' backs.
The forest remained silent but for the wind and Arthur found that his spine was tingling - this just wasn't natural.
Suddenly, the scream sounded again, this time morphing mid-way through into a familiar bird-like screech.
Before any of them had a chance to do more than follow the sound upwards and above their heads, something small and grey dove out of the sky, aiming right for them. They all jumped apart in alarm, but what it was soon became apparent as it came to a rather abrupt landing on Gwaine's head.
"Oi! Get out of my hair you blighter!"
It was Merlin's merlin, ferociously tangling its feet into poor Gwaine's hair whilst furiously flapping its wings. The knight found himself unable to do much more than protect his eyes and dance around in circles, trying to dislodge it.
"Hold still!" Arthur shouted, quickly sheathing his sword and jumping forward to catch the little bugger.
He got within an inch of it before it lunged forward to bite him.
"Ah!"
Arthur recoiled. How was it managing to bite the same finger every time?
"I got it!"
Where Elyan got the sack from Arthur wasn't quite sure, but the sight of it soon drove the bird off before the other knight even got the thing fully unfolded.
Still screeching like a banshee it circled above their heads, getting gradually higher and still making that infernal racket. Gritting his teeth, Arthur's fingers twitched as he seriously considered shooting at the thing with the crossbow on his back. However, almost as if it knew what he were thinking, the bird screamed one more time before swooping off towards the castle. Just before it shrank into the distance a very loud, very angry shout rang at its back:
"I hope a sparrowhawk gets you!"
As he looked at the angry knight - whose usually well-kept hair was stuck up in all directions and full of leaves - Arthur found that he had never agreed with Gwaine more. But, after a few long seconds of panting silence, even the prince was helpless to prevent himself from laughing along with the rest of them.
They had been fooled by a bird. A bloody bird!
He was actually kind of glad that Merlin wasn't here to see this; they'd never live it down, otherwise.
[Previous Chapter]
[Next Chapter]
Fandom: BBC Merlin
Characters: Merlin, Gaius, Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, Arthur, Percival, Leon
Warnings: None. Though there will be spoilers if you haven't seen series' 1-3.
Summary: Once again, Merlin finds himself in a bit of a situation after he performs a transfiguration spell in his sleep. Things can only get worse when Gwaine gets involved - not to mention when a stressed-out prince and the rest of the knights join in. Can Merlin keep his secret and change back?
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
-~-PF-~-
[Chapter 4]
Chapter 4
With the wind teasing at the feathers all over his body, the sun on his back and the thrill of motion in his stomach: nothing had ever felt more exhilarating.
Merlin couldn't accurately describe what he was feeling, but it was definitely one of the best feelings he'd ever had. Even flying with Kilgharrah - what with the sheer speed and the fact that he had known he was riding a dragon - couldn't compare to the fact that he was soaring through the air on his own power. He was the one in control right now and it was amazing.
Adjusting the angle of his wings slightly, Merlin tilted his body to the left and headed towards the forest surrounding Camelot.
Much like the feeling of exhilaration as he was flying, Merlin also didn't really understand exactly how he was even in the air. All he knew was that if he held his wings into the wind at a certain angle, he could feel them being pushed up slightly and this was what was making him float through the air. His tail kept him level and seemed to slow him down the further out he fanned it. Sticking his legs out also seemed to slow him down, so he kept them tightly tucked to his underside. If he wanted to change direction, he had to tilt down the wing on the side he wanted to turn in whilst raising the opposite one. It took a while, and resulted in quite a few sickening lurches in his stomach as he wobbled in space, but he was getting the hang of it. He knew that if anything other than a bird attempted this, then they wouldn't fly at all. Merlin guessed it was probably the feathers that made the difference - it was the only explanation he could think of as only birds have feathers.
But there was one major issue: height.
It soon became apparent to Merlin that he was still falling; albeit in a controlled manner. Obviously there was something that he still wasn't doing right, because after jumping out of the council chamber window - which Merlin still thought was hilarious - the ground had gradually gotten closer. Despite what it may have looked like to the knights, Merlin knew it wasn't wise to view the landing he had made on the window-sill as anything other than a fluke until he had repeated the action at least twice more.
This was why he decided to head to the forest, because he better fancied his chances of landing in a tree than landing on stone... he had already learnt his lesson there; despite being a little more resilient in this form, he did have one doozy of a headache from his brief acquaintance with the door. He didn't want a repeat of that and Gaius had warned him not to try anything unnecessary until another time. Too late now, but still...
For a while, Merlin just allowed himself to glide through the clear autumn skies. However, soon enough, he couldn't help himself; he was already out now, he may as well figure out the other part of flying while he could, right?
The warlock had seen plenty of birds in flight and knew that the secret to gaining height was flapping. Deciding he had nothing to lose, Merlin glanced at both wings - that was another thing, he could look at both at the same time with separate eyes, how cool was that? - before giving them an experimental flap.
Big mistake.
The downward motion was fine, but as he raised his wings back up again the wind seemed to catch on them, jarring them uncomfortably backwards. This destroyed the streamlining he'd had and caused him to plummet like a stone; unable to open his wings against the rushing air. With his stomach doing sickening somersaults along with his body, Merlin screamed - the noise sounding oddly human, like that of a child - as he fought desperately to stop his death spiral toward the ground below. His terrified shout startled a flock of pigeons, which shot past him in a mess of feathers and rustling wings.
By sheer force of will Merlin managed to spread his wings once more, the muscles along his back and in his chest being pulled painfully as the wind mercifully caught them and allowed him to glide once more. Blood rushing in his ears and heart beating furiously, Merlin kept his wings rigidly straight as he fought to regain both his breath and his wits.
Holy hell he did not want a repeat of that.
Unfortunately, it looked like Merlin wasn't going to get much of a choice. His impromptu dive had brought him dangerously close to the ground and although he was crossing over a field right now, the forest was rapidly approaching... with him only about ten feet from the ground.
Knowing that unless he gained altitude he was going to end up with his face painfully meeting solid oak again, Merlin glanced frantically towards the fleeing pigeons. It was then that the warlock realised his mistake. As the birds flapped they pushed their wings downwards before pulling them backwards towards their tail and half-closing them, then lifting them high and straightening them out wide again. Before, Merlin had simply waved his wings directly up-and-down, which was incorrect - he needed to move them in a sweeping motion.
Having no time left and being too terrified to consider the consequences of failure or any other, more magical options that could be open to him, the warlock copied the birds.
Flap.
Merlin's whole body jerked, causing him to pitch forward and have to frantically compensate for it with his tail.
Flap.
His flight steadied and there was a slight pull at the back of his neck as he felt himself speed up, the trees coming towards him at a more alarming rate.
Flap.
Merlin put all the strength he had into the downward stroke. His shoulders - already aching - screamed in protest, but he was too preoccupied to even remotely care. He felt his head push downwards slightly.
Flap.
He was still accelerating. But this time Merlin felt a greater push down on his head and he dared to hope was gaining height.
Flap.
He was!
Still flapping furiously Merlin saw the ground start to fall away. But he was much too close to the trees and, all too soon, he found himself amongst the lower branches. The warlock knew he wouldn't be able to break through the canopy without risking braining himself, so he did the only thing he could: he tried to stop.
Eyes locking on the closest branch, Merlin leaned back, lowered his tail and reached out with his feet. He was too slow, and paid the price for his acceleration. Although the bottom half of his body was stopped immediately, his top half kept on going. In a similar manner to his first experience at perching on Gaius' wrist, Merlin somersaulted forwards, head-first. The warlock's momentum carried him round the branch, just-barely managing to cling on with a foot and causing pain to shoot up through one of his toes. Not able to keep a hold, Merlin started to scream again when he began to fall before being cut off as he was suddenly stopped by a thicker, low-lying branch.
With one wing pinned underneath his side and the other dangling out into space, Merlin blinked dazedly a few times - not quite believing that he was safe and alive.
The shock came next, in the form of a wave of lethargy and breathlessness. Closing his eyes and resting his head on the bark in front of him, Merlin remained where he was, breathing hard and trying to settle himself down. Only now that it was beating so hard was he aware of how quickly his bird-heart could beat - almost humming in his chest.
A few minutes passed and gradually Merlin felt the pounding blood in his head subside, allowing him to hear the birds singing in the trees and the wind sighing through the few remaining leaves. Once his heart-rate was back to what he thought was now normal for him, he slowly pushed himself up to standing. But, as he gripped the wood, he felt an unexpected twinge of pain in the same foot as before. Wincing, he found that he had pulled a talon and that it was bleeding slightly around the edges. It was painful, but it could have been so much worse. He decided that there was nothing he could do for it now, so turned his attention to his surroundings.
Merlin was sat in a big hawthorn tree roughly six feet up - most average people would be able to pluck him down - and just on the edge of the field leading up to the castle walls. The main path leading from the forest to the main gate was only a short distance away to his right. The area was quiet; doing wonders on Merlin's frayed nerves and aching body.
Good God his wings hurt.
That was all it took for Merlin to remember. He had flown; for real this time!
Never one to let negative experiences get him down for long; Merlin glanced around for the nearest branch. Spying one, the warlock turned towards it and started bobbing his head as he judged the distance. It was only about twelve feet away and was slightly lower than his current perch - he'd learnt the hard way to start small - but he was more confident now that he knew what he was doing.
Leaping upwards, Merlin drove his wings down hard twice and then he leaned forward and flapped once more before allowing himself to merely glide to his target. He was more prepared for the landing this time, fanning and lowering his tail earlier and even adding a flap directly forwards at the end to stop his forward momentum.
He landed without a single wobble.
Bolstered by that success, Merlin kept repeating these small bursts of flight - an occasional bad landing being his only let-down and even then that was mainly because of his injured toe. He made himself a circuit, moving in a rough circle before deciding he was ready to start extending the flights. Eventually, Merlin was easily flying thirty feet at a time and could ascend almost straight upwards as well as stop. Now on a giddy high in his excitement, he was just considering attempting to fly in the open above the trees again when the sound of horses' hooves carried to his sensitive ears.
Turning his keen eyesight towards the castle, Merlin soon spotted the source of the sound halfway across the field: none other than Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.
Ah yes, Merlin had forgot that he was 'missing'.
Their presence reminded him that Gaius had been going to go to the library to look for any information on transfiguration. Successful or not, the physician was bound to be finished by now and if Arthur had done as he'd said he would have gone to see if Merlin was in their chambers before setting off. In other words, Gaius would know that Merlin had literally flown the coop.
Chastened and more than a little guilty, Merlin was just about to take off for the castle when the group's voices finally carried over to him. Curious, the warlock quietly trailed them; weaving in-between the trees and leap-frogging through the branches of ones he couldn't avoid.
If he hadn't been quite so pumped up with adrenaline, Merlin may have questioned the wisdom of his next idea. In fact, what he heard them saying almost put him off of his brilliant plan straight away. Almost, but not quite, and soon he was melting into the trees with his mind focused on one thing: revenge.
-~-M-~-
Arthur didn't want to admit it, but he was worried.
After that little rat of a bird had escaped out of the window, the prince had decided that there was no better time to go and search for his wayward manservant. As he'd suggested, the group had made their way to Gaius' chambers. But on finding both Merlin and the physician to be absent and pushing aside the twinge of unease that discovery brought, they had then made their way down to the stables and tacked up their horses. Now, they were cantering up the hill towards the forest.
Officially, they were going hunting. However, they never specified what for, so that didn't mean that they couldn't keep an eye out for a certain clumsy, dark-haired man as they were going along.
"You know, Merlin is going to have our heads once he finds out we let his bird escape."
Elyan, however, was a little more sceptical of Gwaine's observation and turned round in his saddle to stare at the knight incredulously.
"Please, Merlin? The man wouldn't hurt a fly."
"You haven't seen him when he's drunk mate."
"Merlin's a violent drunk?" Now it was Leon's turn to be sceptical and he nudged his horse so that it was alongside Gwaine's. "I find that hard to believe."
Arthur did too and he threw his contribution over his shoulder. "Yes. In fact, I don't recall Merlin ever being drunk."
Gwaine actually snorted.
"Like you would know?"
Arthur tried to ignore how much that comment - however true it was - had actually hurt. As a prince, propriety prevented him from being allowed to simply walk into a tavern and have a drink as the rest of the knights here could. The only time he could ever enjoy a drink was in private or at banquets, and only with other high-ranking nobles; in that kind of environment, propriety then prevented Merlin from having a drink.
As a result, even if he had already known Merlin enjoyed a drink sometimes, Arthur would likely have never been around to see him drunk.
So, no, despite knowing that what Gwaine was claiming was likely just a load of bollocks, he really wouldn't know.
The young prince would rather die before admitting this out loud but, despite everything, he did consider Merlin to be his closest friend. Over the months, he and the rest of the knights in the current party had become fast friends. However, it was still Merlin whom he trusted the most - indeed it often seemed that he held the clashing personalities of their rag-tag group together. Deep down, Arthur also knew that at least three of the knights here wouldn't even be in Camelot if Merlin hadn't literally asked for them to come. It was a rare kind of person that could touch that many people of so many different statuses.
Jerking himself out of those thoughts before he got too far into analysing his feelings, Arthur slowed his horse to a trot before twisting to address the others.
"Right then, keep your eyes peeled - most likely situation is that Merlin's asleep under a tree somewhere."
Nothing more needed to be said and after seeing everyone's affirmative nods, Arthur turned forwards again.
"Which merlin are we looking for here?"
Really, by now Arthur supposed that he should know better than to encourage the man by rising to the bait. However, the stress of recent days - along with what he may or may not be willing to admit was worry for his best friend - hindered his judgement.
"Gwaine, I really don't care about a frigging bird."
"Merlin did, he brought it in to nurse it back to health. I'm telling you, he won't be happy if we don't try and find it."
"Merlin has a priority complex. Forgive me if I'm more concerned with finding him than a bloody bird!"
There was moment of quiet before the thudding of hooves preceded Gwaine's appearance at Arthur's side.
"We're worried about him too, Arthur."
It took Arthur's brain a moment to catch up with his mouth. Once he realised what he'd said he opened and closed his mouth a few times before scowling and nudging his horse forward again, putting Gwaine and his sympathy firmly behind him. Percival was the next one to speak from where he was riding at the back.
"Where are the herbs that Gaius uses found? That may help us to know where to start looking."
Everyone turned to Lancelot, who almost always seemed to know of these things. If Arthur were honest, he thought the knight looked a little sullen, almost as if he were sulking - very unlike his usual behaviour. Riding next to Percival, Lancelot looked up from glaring at his mount's mane, seeming to only just realise that he was the subject of their scrutiny.
However, before the knight could say anything, the air was rent by a high-pitched scream, making all six men jump violently.
The sound of steel rang out into the forest as six swords were drawn in unison. Remaining mounted, the knights glanced quickly about themselves.
"Which direction did it come from?"
It had sounded like a child and Arthur narrowed his eyes onto the forest around them, looking for anything that could be considered out of place. He couldn't help but flinch as the scream sounded again from behind him, making the hairs on the nape of his neck rise.
Bringing his horse's head around Arthur called, "To me!" before kicking it into a canter with the rest of the knights charging on his heels. They barely got twenty yards before the scream sounded again. From behind them.
Whoever they were, they must have managed to run past them. Whipping his horse around again - ignoring her snort of protest - Arthur started to set off in the new direction, this time on the heels of his knights. But then the scream sounded again, directly to his left. He turned to face it.
...Only, nothing was there.
Pulling his horse to a halt, Arthur dismounted before giving her a rap on the rump to move her along. The rest of the knights did the same and then seamlessly moved into a circular formation, protecting each others' backs.
The forest remained silent but for the wind and Arthur found that his spine was tingling - this just wasn't natural.
Suddenly, the scream sounded again, this time morphing mid-way through into a familiar bird-like screech.
Before any of them had a chance to do more than follow the sound upwards and above their heads, something small and grey dove out of the sky, aiming right for them. They all jumped apart in alarm, but what it was soon became apparent as it came to a rather abrupt landing on Gwaine's head.
"Oi! Get out of my hair you blighter!"
It was Merlin's merlin, ferociously tangling its feet into poor Gwaine's hair whilst furiously flapping its wings. The knight found himself unable to do much more than protect his eyes and dance around in circles, trying to dislodge it.
"Hold still!" Arthur shouted, quickly sheathing his sword and jumping forward to catch the little bugger.
He got within an inch of it before it lunged forward to bite him.
"Ah!"
Arthur recoiled. How was it managing to bite the same finger every time?
"I got it!"
Where Elyan got the sack from Arthur wasn't quite sure, but the sight of it soon drove the bird off before the other knight even got the thing fully unfolded.
Still screeching like a banshee it circled above their heads, getting gradually higher and still making that infernal racket. Gritting his teeth, Arthur's fingers twitched as he seriously considered shooting at the thing with the crossbow on his back. However, almost as if it knew what he were thinking, the bird screamed one more time before swooping off towards the castle. Just before it shrank into the distance a very loud, very angry shout rang at its back:
"I hope a sparrowhawk gets you!"
As he looked at the angry knight - whose usually well-kept hair was stuck up in all directions and full of leaves - Arthur found that he had never agreed with Gwaine more. But, after a few long seconds of panting silence, even the prince was helpless to prevent himself from laughing along with the rest of them.
They had been fooled by a bird. A bloody bird!
He was actually kind of glad that Merlin wasn't here to see this; they'd never live it down, otherwise.
[Previous Chapter]
[Next Chapter]