Merlin fic--A Thousand Different Skins
Title: A Thousand Different Skins
Author: tarayith
Word Count: approx. 9,500
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Uh, none, aside from the smexing xD
Summary: Merlin decides he wants to learn to fly. Only things don't quite go to plan.
Notes: Once again, this wasn't supposed to be nearly this long but it grew like a cancer. Not betaed because it's been ages since I wrote much and my old betas are long gone. I'd be grateful if anyone wants to offer :)
A Thousand Different Skins
The idea came to him suddenly.
He was lying on his back in an open field bordered by oak woodland on the outskirts of Camelot, watching the clouds drift by lazily overhead, the low hum of insects throbbing through the thready scents of sweet flowers dancing in the breeze. It was a hot day, the sort that leant itself to lazing and sleeping and Merlin was currently busy doing both. Gaius had sent him out earlier that morning with a request for all sorts of bizarre herbs and roots for his experiments and would not expect him back until dusk.
What Gaius, or indeed anyone, had not worked out, was that he did not need to be out until dusk. Merlin had discovered a very long time ago that there were not many things that magic could not do for him better than he could do himself. This was the reason he was currently half-asleep under the arching azure sky while the collecting pouch lay open beside him as all manner of plants waltzed across the grass to place themselves inside it.
There came a shrill call on the wind and he opened his eyes to see a kestrel hovering on the thermals high above, wings twitching only a mere fraction, a small speck that hung motionless in the sky. He thought it must be quite nice, to be able to ride the wind, command the breezes to bear you, especially on such a hot day. It was a shame he was earth-bound.
He sat up suddenly, disturbing the small cloud of insects that had gathered. Maybe he wasn't earth-bound. Maybe he could do that.
After all, if magic could kill creatures he hadn't even known existed and, really, any number of the crazy things he'd seen since coming to Camelot, why couldn't it turn him into a bird?
Above him, the kestrel abruptly dived and he grinned.
He began the following week.
The heat was having an undesirable effect on most of the castle's inhabitants, not least of whom was King Uther who was calling Important Meetings at all hours and which inevitably left Arthur in a foul mood and which, equally inevitably, he took out on Merlin. On top of that, there was the sudden inclination of the delicate court ladies to faint from the heat and it was apparently his job to run around delivering Gaius' sweet-smelling brews to wake them.
Nevertheless, he eventually managed to find an entire afternoon when no-one would bother him and locked himself in his room with only the magic book for company. The book had been thoroughly unhelpful on the matter. The nearest spell it described to what he was looking for was a brief entry detailing a charm for augmenting one's hearing which, it went on, may be somewhat similar to a dog's.
So Merlin resigned himself to many hours of frustration and the very real possibility that this experiment may not work at all.
Trying for a bird the first time round was, he felt, maybe a little too ambitious. Aside from the fact that a bird's anatomy was about as far away from a human's as it was possible to get, they also had the tendency to fly and he didn't much fancy that going wrong any time soon. On the other hand, he didn't want to try anything too small like, for instance, a ladybird for while that had the very useful potential for spying on people it also had the frightening habit of being stepped upon. After much deliberation he finally settled on a mouse, reasoning that at least they were mammals and he'd certainly seen more than enough to have a rough idea of what they were like and he'd even eaten a rat, so it seemed appropriate.
Two hours later Merlin thought that maybe his ears were a little bigger and he might possibly have had the first suggestion of whiskers, but then he hadn't shaved recently so maybe not. He sighed and decided to try again another day.
Gaius was moving around downstairs now and when Merlin walked in he looked up from peering into the depths of a large conical flask. "Ah, Merlin," he said absently, swirling a foul greenish liquid, "I believe Prince Arthur was looking for you a moment ago." There was a faint hint of disapproval in his tone, as if the prince should not have to resort to looking for his manservant, but there was also an echo of resignation as if he knew Merlin too well by now to hope for any better.
"Right," said Merlin. "Where was he?"
"Coming off the training field, the last I saw of him." Merlin nodded and moved towards the door. "Oh, and Merlin?" he paused, hand already half pushing the door open and turned around again. "Lamar, the stableboy," Merlin had a flash of a gangly, skinny boy of about twelve with a wide-toothed smile and a fuzzy orange cat in his arms, "his cat Esme has given birth to kittens again. I told his mother we'd take one in. Goodness knows we need a mouser around here."
Merlin tried to ignore the feeling of distaste curling in his belly (and where had that come from because he'd always secretly had a soft spot for cats) and merely nodded, finally exiting to find Arthur.
"Merlin," was Arthur's greeting when he finally found him in the armoury, "I don't like having to ask after you."
"Sorry, sire," Merlin replied. And then because he was stupid like that: "I don't much like it either."
Arthur gave him a sharp look. "You know," he said converstionally, "I realise that you're possibly the worst manservant in all of history, but would it kill you--" and he stopped, because Merlin had just made a noise that sounded very much like a terrified mouse and had promptly tried to vanish into the corner.
Arthur stared. Merlin stared back, just as surprised. "I think," Arthur said slowly, "that maybe you need to have Gaius take a look at you."
Merlin nodded and left silently. Arthur watched him go and thought are Merlin's ears bigger than normal?
By the end of the day, Merlin had jumped at no fewer than five hissing cats crossing his path, had an insane urge to defecate nervously when the King swept past and had had to forcibly restrain himself from stuffing his mouth full of food from the kitchens and hiding it elsewhere.
Maybe his experiment hadn't been as much of a failure as he'd thought.
Luckily the mousy side-effects wore off quickly and he was soon able to go about his duties as normal. He had to wait for over a week before there came a day when both Arthur and Gaius were occupied for a decent period of time which would enable him to disappear unnoticed for a few hours. When that time finally came, he firmly locked his door and sat cross-legged in the centre of his bed. In his hand he held a small mirror which he may or may not have stolen from Morgana, but surely she had enough she wouldn't notice one going missing?
He held the mirror up and stared into it for a long moment, and then he thought I am a mouse and watched very carefully. There was no apparent change in his features--his ears remained just-too-large, his nose was normal, his eyes were still blue. He frowned and stared hard at his reflection. I am a mouse, he told himself firmly, I am a mouse.
Several long minutes later and nothing--not a twitch of his nose, nor a flash of a whisker. He threw the mirror down in disgust and flopped onto his back. Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. Maybe he needed to think more like a mouse. So what did mice spend their lives doing?
Reproducing, was his brain's quick reply and he frowned. Eating, uh...running around under floorboards...
He shut his eyes, imagined scampering around in the cramped, dark world of below, dust and cobwebs and droppings piled high. Maybe it was comforting, that enclosed life, safe where predators could not follow. He imagined the indecision that would set in, the difficulty choosing between safety and hunger or to venture outside into danger to steal some food.
There was a flash of white across his vision and then, when Merlin opened his eyes again, he was wreathed in soft, warm darkness. Too dangerous, his brain told him frantically and he was off scrambling across the bed and down to the floor, all run, hide, dark places. He wedged himself eventually between the bedpost and the bedstand, trying to calm his breathing, his tiny, frantic heart beating in abject terror and god, it's going to explode.
His nose was twitching constantly, making him feel a little like he might want to sneeze at any moment and his ears were rotating at the slightest stir of air in the room. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. When he opened them again, he carefully took stock of the situation.
Judging by the humungous size of the bed he was hiding under, he'd say he'd managed to turn into a mouse. Excitement shot through him and without thought, Merlin-mouse began spinning in circles. He had four, stubby legs underneath his body--wow, that's weird--and there was a tail twitching happily behind him.
Spurred on by his success, Merlin-mouse set off to explore his strange new world. Everything was so much larger now but smaller things, things at floor-level had suddenly taken on an amazing amount of detail. The crack under his door was hey, actually really big and whoops, he hadn't meant to leave his room but oh well, here were the stairs and weren't they challenging? Oh, the laboratory, and so many interesting smells and things to hide behind!
The curved flasks and bottles provided amusement for a brief while but then there was a crash from outside and Yeah, outside! Let's explore outside!
He was having to do quite a lot of weaving to avoid being stepped on as he scurried through the tower into the courtyard. Wow, that woman screams really loudly. There was suddenly a broomstick following him and his heart rate shot up to astronomical heights, run, hide, find a hole. Why wouldn't these people leave him alone?
Eventually he escaped through the legs of a small huge, really, really huge boy and darted through an open door as fast as his mouse-legs would carry him. He headed for the first shadows he saw which turned out to be a large pile of straw and he buried himself right into the middle until it was dark and scratchy but safe. The only sound was his heartbeat thumping in his huge ears, which were still moving manically.
He waited for an age until he had calmed somewhat and could begin to think clearly. Being a mouse wasn't nearly so fun anymore, but he could hardly change back into a man in the middle of a pile of straw. Scents started to filter in and the most overpowering was of large animal dung, but it didn't smell like a dangerous animal, although wow, it must shit a lot!
Slowly, he edged his way back out of the straw pile, still carefully listening for any danger. Satisfied that he could hear nothing, he scampered out only to stop immediately at the leering, drooling cat crouched before him.
"Crap," he squeaked. "Please don't eat me, I'm not really a mouse!"
The cat was bright orange and very fluffy and was fixing him with a very scary look.
"Tasty mousy," it said, licking its teeth, slopping drool as it prepared to leap and Merlin prepared to die.
"Esme! Where are you?"
The shout startled them both and Merlin took advantage of the cat's distraction to dart back into the straw. There were footsteps and then an undignified yowl as Esme was picked up. Merlin headed in the opposite direction and aimed for the shadows of the still-open door. Looking back, he saw Esme watching him with narrow, yellow eyes, but then the boy's hands started scratching her chin and her eyes fell shut.
"Silly human," she purred, "mousy was going to die. But, oooh, that's nice, scratch there, no higher, not like that, idiot human, there, stay there, just like that, yeeesss..."
Merlin made his escape.
The journey back to his rooms was fraught with terror and he feared for his life every step of the way as people thundered on with their business so loudly. Eventually, he pulled an exhausted, terrified body back under his door and thought I'd really like to be human again and he was, toes wedged painfully under the door, but alive. Naked, but his clothes were still on the bed where they had fallen and he was ridiculously lucky he hadn't died.
Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.
The problem, Merlin decided after much thought, was not so much in his execution but in his choice of animal. He needed something larger than a mouse that was less prone to running at the slightest chance of danger, but also nothing too big as to attract unwanted attention. And he'd prefer it for now if it was an animal which stayed firmly rooted to the ground. A cat seemed like the logical choice, but then there were the occasional cat-culls when their numbers got too high and knowing his luck...
So not a cat. Maybe a dog was the way forward.
The mind of a dog was a lot harder to understand than a mouse's. For one thing, there were so many different kinds of dog to choose from. There were the hunting hounds, sleek, athletic, vicious animals and he didn't much like the thought of being in one of those bodies. There were the fat, pampered creatures doted on by their wealthy owners, there were the scruffy, street mongrels and the large, muscled thugs of the fighting arenas and he couldn't begin to imagine what any of those animals thought like.
Eventually, he decided to try for one of the dogs he had known well in Ealdor, reasoning that he would have a better idea of its thoughts. This time, he was already hiding out in an abandoned shed (because he was certain Gaius would notice something was up when a parade of animals started emerging from Merlin's room), his clothes removed and folded neatly beside him. Merlin felt vaguely ridiculous, sitting there naked with his eyes shut, but all in the name of learning to fly...
He started trying to think like a dog. Maybe where the next meal would come from? The village dogs back home hadn't had much to worry about on that account--they were usually thrown something once the pigs had been fed. Maybe a warm place to spend the night? The winter nights had been literally freezing in Ealdor and often Merlin had woken to find a small mongrel tucked in beside him, trying to keep warm. Certainly they had seemed to enjoy human company, running after the children yipping happily and enthusiastically joining in their games.
His bottom twitched.
Merlin's eyes snapped open in confusion, jerking towards the offending region, only to discover a long, furiously wagging tail. He whuffed in excitement, told himself to shush or people would hear him and then chased his tail in circles. So close, just run harder and---catch it! He gnawed on the end of his tail contentedly for a while and then turned his attention to sorting out his limbs.
They were harder to get to grips with than the mouse's. They were larger, more restless, and every time he had one straight and knew where it was, his mind went off elsewhere and his legs moved without his permission. And that infernal tail would not stop wagging!
He spent a good while moving around in the hut, familiarising himself with his body, before carefully poking his nose outside. Seeing no-one, smelling no-one he trotted out.
Oooh, wow! The varied scents were so differentiated, so vivid that it was like he was smelling in colour. So many interesting smells! He sniffed around for a long time and then, feeling the strangest urge, lifted his leg and urinated over the edge of the hut.
He blushed. Uh...let's try not to do that again.
His new body, however, didn't seem to agree with him and every few metres he found himself trotting over to a tall thing, lifting his leg and promptly spraying his urine everywhere. It was downright embarrassing, but he couldn't seem to stop himself and every time he marked his territory, his tail started wagging harder and harder.
There were people out and about but they largely ignored him, unlike when he had been a mouse and he was profoundly grateful for that. Several other dogs loped past but a mere exchange of growls and bared teeth had each of them put its tail between its legs and slink off. Merlin strode around cockily, his nose in the air and that female has a tasty smelling butt!
He did not just think that.
He veered away and took off down an alley, moving aimlessly, enjoying the sheer freedom being out and unrecognised gave him. Ahead, he heard a shout and then a loud volley of laughter. He looked up to see a group of boys play-fighting with sticks, rolling around on the floor in fits of laughter.
Looks like fun! he thought and took off towards them at a lope.
"Hey," he said when he drew closer, "let's play!" Only it came out as quite a vicious-sounding bark actually and the boys were looking at him in fear. "I just wanna play," he tried again and added a small, playful yip for emphasis, but that hadn't sounded much better. Evidently, the boys had decided the same because one of them stepped forwards, brandishing his stick in front of him.
"G'way," he yelled and Merlin's tail stopped wagging.
He whined at them. "I only want to play with you. See, I don't want to hurt you!"
The boy's face contorted in anger. Merlin had a split second warning of something is not right and then the boy was upon him, his stick rising and falling in a sickening rhythm. The others joined in and soon the only sound in the alley was that of shouts and the thumping of wood on flesh, where before the sounds of happiness had rung off the walls.
Merlin whimpered and curled into himself. His natural instinct was to snap and bite but that only brought an increase in fervour of the attack. "Please---don't hurt me," he gasped and yelped as he felt something snap. "I only wanted to play."
Who knew dogs could cry?
The boys tired eventually and left, laughing and congratulating each other. Merlin lay limp, panting for breath, everything hurting. He didn't know how long he lay there until he heard a voice nearby saying, "There now, boy. Poor lad, who's been at you?"
Gentle, warm hands ran across his limbs and ribs, checking for damage. "Quite a lot of bruising there, fella, but no breaks. I'm going to go and get someone to help me carry you inside, alright. There's a good boy."
The man patted his head soothingly and Merlin licked the hand gratefully. Once the hurried footsteps had faded away, he whimpered and pulled himself to his feet. He couldn't stay here for the other to come back, no matter how tempting it may be. It was just too much of a risk.
He limped slowly away.
Unfortunately Arthur required his services that night, so Merlin hauled his bruised, aching body up to the prince's rooms.
"Merlin," Arthur said as soon as he opened the door, "you've managed to be conspicuously absent all afternoon." He turned around and froze, whatever he had been about to say lost in his throat as he caught sight of Merlin.
Merlin smiled self-consciously and even that seemed to hurt. "What?"
Arthur strode across the room silently and seized his hand. Merlin looked down and saw that the knuckles were scratched and bloody and there was the beginning of a nasty purple welt below his elbow. Arthur made a distressed noise and tugged Merlin over to the bed insistently, forcing him to sit and then methodically began removing his shirt, ignoring Merlin's protests.
Merlin thought he must have looked pretty bad if Arthur's face were anything to go by. He looked down and winced in spite of himself. His ribs were a canvas of red and purple and there was no discernible edge to where it began or ended. All across his sides and back, straight, raised wheals stood out, unmistakably the work of a cane.
"Who has done this?" Arthur asked and even Merlin could detect the quiet fury in his voice.
Merlin stayed silent because he couldn't very well say a group of small boys had beaten him up. Arthur's eyes darkened and he took Merlin by the shoulder gently.
"Merlin, you must tell me, who has done this? This should not be allowed to happen." There was anguish in those blue eyes and a tremble in his voice and Merlin felt terrible to have to lie.
"Arthur," he started, lost, "I--I can't say." His breath hitched and he wrung his hands anxiously.
Arthur gripped his shoulder tighter and Merlin had to control his wince. "Why? Who are you protecting?" There was a pause. "Merlin," he said, voice rough and then, in a far softer tone, "Merlin, there is no-one in this castle, no-one, whom I will allow to get away with harming you."
Even if you knew the whole truth? The thought made him ache inside and actually, he didn't want to know the answer to that, he really, really didn't because the very concept of it terrified him.
"I can't," he whispered eventually, eyes begging Arthur to please, understand. "I'm sorry."
Arthur drew back, his hand falling away and something raised between them, a barrier which Merlin had never noticed before but now felt keenly as it drew into place.
"Arthur--"
"Go and see Gaius," Arthur said quietly, rising from the bed. "Take a few days off, however long you need."
He stood staring into the fire as behind him Merlin struggled painfully back into his shirt. When he was finished, Arthur suddenly whirled around, pinning him with an icy glare. "Protect this person if you must," he said fiercely, "but know that when I find out---I will kill them."
They both seemed surprised at his vehemence, but then Arthur turned away in a clear dismissal, glaring at the wall. Merlin sat on the bed for a few more moments, something warm blossoming in the pit of his stomach. And then he dragged himself away.
Transforming into animals was altogether too risky, Merlin thought. If his first two attempts were anything to go by, he'd rather not be a bird. That one could end very badly. His bruises were mostly gone now, helped along by some of Gaius's healing balm and a lot of his own magic. Arthur was beginning to lose that strange, distressed look in his eye, though he had made it clear he would not forget the incident and he would find the man responsible.
Merlin decided: the experiment was firmly, absolutely, shelved.
Shortly after, Arthur decided to go hunting and to bring Merlin along as general dogsbody and to flush out the prey. Arthur made all manner of weird, interpretive gestures which Merlin took to mean to circle around the buck they had spotted and chase it back towards Arthur and he set off, mentally grumbling to himself.
If the buck hadn't heard him by now, he thought angrily as he shifted into position and accidentally stepped on yet another twig, it really ought to be removed from the gene pool anyway. He watched it for a moment as it grazed contentedly on the lush, young grass, massive antlered head occasionally raising to peer around as it chewed slowly. That must be a headache, he thought, to carry all that weight.
And suddenly he was falling forwards under the abrupt, heavy weight of antlers. The buck whipped its head around sharply, large, liquid eyes pinpointing his position and then it raised its head and bellowed.
"MY TERRITORY," it roared and Merlin was still stumbling around, head to the ground, gouging great furrows in the earth, "MY FEMALES, WHO DARES TRESPASS?"
Merlin, his nose buried in the dirt, uncomfortably aware of the thorn lodged up his left front-hoof and the fact that his small, white tail was twitching shouted back, "No, no, ignore me, just passing through, no harm meant."
Which was of course the moment Arthur chose to come bursting out of the undergrowth, crossbow raised high.
There followed a great deal of confusion. Arthur, apparently given up waiting for his manservant to be useful, had charged ahead to take the deer by surprise. Upon finding not one but two, he faltered briefly. The other buck panicked, eyes gone huge and it leapt a foot in the air, bounding hastily away from this new threat, screaming "RUN, RUN." Merlin, finally succeeding in balancing his head, carefully raised it only to discover the other deer racing full-pelt towards him. "MOVE," it screamed at him and he wobbled to the left, feet splaying outwards. His head swayed drunkenly, the other deer leapt and then their antlers were locked, tugging and pushing furiously.
"Ow," said Merlin as an antler poked his shoulder and then, "OW," because the other didn't cease in its frantic movements. "TWO-LEGS! RUN!" it bellowed in his ear and Merlin thought Arthur should really hurry up and shoot the damn thing.
"Just, move to the left and I'll move this--ow!" He jerked his head up hard and then suddenly the other buck was flying over his shoulder, landing on his back, small, hard hooves kicking into his sides and finally they were apart. The other leapt up impressively fast and darted away, yelling itself hoarse.
And then Arthur shot him.
"OW," he screamed and there was a brief moment of oh, god please don't shoot me again, don't kill me, before he was suddenly human again, very in pain and very naked. Shifting to a sitting position, he looked at himself, feeling dizzy when he saw the arrow jutting out from the side of his buttock.
"Arthur," he panted, voice trembling, "you have rubbish aim."
Arthur made a strange noise and then dropped the crossbow, stumbling to his knees beside Merlin. He ran a hand gently over Merlin's thigh as he checked the wound. "It's not deep," he said quietly, voice shaking, "but we should get you back to Camelot quickly."
Merlin gritted his teeth as Arthur efficiently snapped the arrow and he was suddenly very aware that he was naked and that Arthur was kneeling in front of him, intent on his groin. He groaned. "I don't suppose you have anything I could wear?"
Arthur looked up in shock and his eyes flitted briefly to the remains of Merlin's clothing lying shredded and trampled in the dirt. "Er, no," he said. "Sorry...were you really just a deer?"
Merlin sighed, thinking it had probably been too much to hope that Arthur wouldn't notice that bit. "Can we have the massive argument and possible executing later, please?" he asked hopefully and gasped for good measure. "Because this really, really hurts."
Arthur nodded woodenly and helped him up, leading the way back to their horses in.
"No executing," he said softly after a while. "I told you: there isn't anyone in Camelot whom I will allow to harm you."
Merlin gave a choked laugh. "Except yourself, apparently."
Arthur smiled. "That's different."
Several hours later, Merlin was feeling a lot better. Granted, riding back into Camelot bundled in Arthur's cloak, on Arthur's horse and with Arthur riding behind him had been deeply, deeply embarrassing. But unless he wanted to spend the entire trip back to Camelot falling off his own horse, he had to swallow his pride.
What was far more painful was the conversation which followed with Gaius.
"What have you been doing, Merlin?" the man asked with the effortless air of someone who expected answers now.
Merlin squirmed. "Uh-" he said but was interrupted when Arthur, who had been leaning on the closed door, stepped further into the room and said,
"Turning himself into animals."
There followed an uncomfortable moment where each of the three tried evaluating the others for determining the likelihood of any possible executing in the near future.
"Erm," said Merlin and looked warily at Gaius, who appeared to be busy having a silent heart attack.
Gaius made an odd sound, that came out as "nnggh?" and watched Arthur carefully, as if expecting to have to fend off his attacks.
Arthur smirked. "If it helps, I didn't know until I shot him. As a deer," he added helpfully and Gaius looked like he might crumple where he stood.
Eventually, he said, "Shot him?" and immediately bustled over to Merlin's side who was feeling a bit left out, actually, and still in quite a bit of pain. Gaius prodded him gently, muttering about stupid warlocks and their stupid princes, until finally he straightened and said,
"Right, you," and he pointed a crooked finger at Merlin, "stay there, don't move, and you," the finger moved until it pointed at Arthur who looked a little nonplussed, "can make yourself useful and come with me."
And they both disappeared outside. Merlin, left alone with an arrow in his butt, watched the door apprehensively and hoped that neither would kill the other in some misguided act of protection. He need not have worried because seconds later the both of them stepped back into the room and were immediately at his side.
"We've sorted a few things out," Arthur told him in a tone that Merlin knew well, the thoroughly-chastised-after-a-Gaius-lecture tone of voice. "I will not let my father know about this, but in return you have to stop doing stupid things like turning yourself into animals!"
Merlin protested. "I didn't mean to turn into a deer," he said indignantly and if there was a touch of a whine to that then, well, it had been a long day. "It just happened."
Gaius gave him a stern look. "I doubt that anything 'just happens' with you, Merlin." He glanced briefly at Arthur who was kneeling by Merlin's side, busy smoothing the sheets. "You attract trouble like no-one else I've ever seen."
The whole 'not turning into animals' thing didn't quite go as planned. Mere days after Merlin was finally recovered and returned to his duties as a manservant, Arthur made a sudden, throwaway comment about wishing he could be a fly on the wall in one of his father's meetings. Merlin thought that'd be pretty interesting and then he was buzzing around Arthur's head, trying to avoid being accidentally swatted.
Two days later, while they were out on Uther's orders inspecting the moat, Merlin thought it'd be a lot easier if I could actually swim and then a sleek, brown otter was scampering across the grass and slipping into the water without a second thought.
After, Arthur dragged him back up to his chambers, locked the door and gave a very long lecture as Merlin stood dripping miserably all over the floor.
"--need to get this under control!" he was saying for what seemed the umpteenth time, "you can't go around changing into animals on a whim--people will notice. You'll die!"
Merlin, thoroughly drenched (and that had been an embarrassing moment when one of the guards had asked why and Arthur had improvised a story about slipping and drowning and Arthur saving him), thought this was rather unfair. It wasn't like he was trying to get himself killed.
"I'm not trying to get myself killed," he interjected into Arthur's rant and then cringed when fierce, blue eyes pierced his. "I--just can't help it," he added softly.
Arthur sighed and dropped to the bed, head in his hands. They stood there in silence for a long while, the only sound the drip, drip of moat-water onto Arthur's expensive rug. Suddenly, Arthur's shoulders started shaking and Merlin thought for a horrific moment that he was crying, but then realised with even more horror that he was laughing.
"It figures," Arthur panted, "that you'd be just as inept at being a sorcerer as anything else."
Merlin frowned, tempted to point out that this 'inept sorcerer' had saved that idiot's life more times than he cared to count, but then Arthur looked up and said:
"God, you're soaked. Dry yourself off."
The fire in the hearth promptly rose by several feet, a blast of warm air ruffling the tapestries and skimming across Merlin's skin. Long, thin strands of warm fire curled about his hair and clothes, drying them gently and then the fire abruptly died back down, leaving two very stunned people staring at it.
"Um," said Merlin apprehensively.
Arthur stared for a moment longer and then said, "You're not leaving this room until you've got it back under control. I don't know how you aren't already dead."
And so began a period of forced quarantine in Arthur's rooms. Over the next few days, Merlin practiced at all hours, trying to control his wayward magic, but it paid him no heed. Arthur, who was apparently telling everyone that Merlin had caught some sort of embarrassing disease and was holed up in shame, was reduced to doing his own work, for once, and moaned at every opportunity. Merlin had decided that in lieu of any idea of what he was supposed to be doing to calm his magic, he'd try to exhaust it instead by turning into every animal he could possibly think of.
He'd had a good amount of recent practice of sitting in the middle of Arthur's bed pretending to be the animal of the day, while Arthur busied himself doing...whatever. All the same, it was still deeply embarrassing to sit naked (even if he pooled the sheets in his lap) with his eyes tightly shut, knowing Arthur was watching him. And if that really didn't throw his concentration out of the window, he couldn't think of much else that would.
Nevertheless, now that there was a lot less danger involved, because Arthur adamantly refused to let him leave the room, or to let anyone enter it, he was having a lot more success at turning into various animals. He had successfully mastered a cat, a snake, a fox, a rabbit and, by a bizarre fluke of chance, a small greenish animal which was agonisingly slow and had a penchant for reacting to danger by hiding in its shell. Neither of them knew what on earth it was and Merlin was pretty sure he wouldn't want to turn into it again because he couldn't think of a reason why he might need to, save imitating a rock.
Currently, he was sitting on the bed, very carefully trying to imagine what it would feel like to be a bird because maybe then his magic would be satisfied, and he was very decidedly not imagining what it would feel like if Arthur strode across the room, seized him by his shoulder and sealed his lips--
Arthur seized his shoulder and Merlin may have shrieked like a girl, though he would never admit it. Arthur's raised eyebrows said it all really.
"You're thinking too hard," he told Merlin. "I can assure you birds do not think that much."
Merlin sighed and huffed in frustration. "It's just...I don't want to think about flying in case I accidentally hit the ceiling, but, well, what on earth do birds actually do beside flying?" Shitting, his mind supplied helpfully, and he was really, really not going there because Arthur would never forgive him if he soiled the bedding.
"Er, hunting?" was the prince's response and he frowned at the condescending look he got in reply.
"Yeah, and the last thing involving hunting went so well. I don't want to turn back and find myself vomiting mouse-bits." Especially since he'd been a mouse and did that count as cannibalism?
There was nothing else for it. He would have to think of flying and hope Arthur would catch him if he did concuss himself on the ceiling.
It might have been useful if he had informed Arthur of this decision.
Which was why he promptly found himself soaring upwards with a great, ear-splitting shriek, only to flail uselessly and end up sprawled in a heap of feathers in the centre of Arthur's bed. Arthur was watching him with wide eyes and Merlin thought you were supposed to catch me and tried his best to glare. Wow, my eyesight is good and hey, when Arthur has his mouth open like that, I can see all the way into his throat and.... He cut off that thought and turned his attention elsewhere.
Being a bird was far more disorientating that any other animal he'd tried thus far. For one thing, he really did have a ridiculously small brain, although at least that made it easy to ignore its clamouring at him in panic. And there were suddenly all sorts of other senses he was aware of, like exactly how many days it was until autumn would arrive and he would start having to think about flying south, and another part of him that tugged, knowing south was that way.
He struggled to stand up straight and that was really rather difficult because he only had two spindly limbs now and the bed was fairly uneven. Without thinking, he dug his talons into the bedspread, wobbling as his wings flailed around him. Arthur made a distressed sound at the now ripped sheets and held out his arm.
"Here," he said, as if he expected bird-Merlin to follow his orders when human-Merlin hadn't.
Merlin glared, but then reasoned that Arthur's arm looked a lot steadier than the bed, and Arthur was wearing his leather vambraces which was surprisingly forward-thinking of him. He wind-milled his wings experimentally for a moment, felt the lift underneath him and the resistance above, angled his wings instinctively, jumped upwards and---
--glided towards Arthur with a smug air. The landing was slightly less graceful and there was a lot of flapping involved but eventually he was perched on Arthur's outstretched arm, wings tucked neatly into his sides, head jauntily surveying the room.
He heard a kerfuffle outside, someone saying something in a raised voice, but actually, his hearing was apparently worse in this form than in his own. Both he and Arthur startled when the door splintered and a guard stumbled in with his sword drawn, looking around frantically.
"Sire," he panted, "we heard screaming and...came to...save you?" He paused, sword tip dipping as he realised that there was no-one else in the room except for his prince and a falcon, and that his prince was giving him a scathing look.
"Did I not make it clear," he said quietly and Merlin's feathers ruffled with unease, "that no-one was to enter this room until I said so? On pain of death?"
The guard swallowed. "Uh," he stammered, "we--we thought we heard--screaming--"
"Do you not think," Arthur interrupted imperiously, "that perhaps that sound was more bird-like, or that I would not be caught screaming or that, even if I were, I should not need rescuing?"
"Er," said the guard and then something that sounded like "sorrypleasedon'tkillme" and then darted out the door, banging it loudly behind him.
Merlin stared after him and then made a strange, gurgling sound that was apparently a bird's attempts at laughter.
"Idiot," Arthur said, "you could have got us both killed."
Merlin trilled in reply and twitched his tail in contrition. He crooned when Arthur's hand fell onto his head and stroked the fine feathers there gently. "I think we'll have to move these practices outside. Somewhere far from Camelot."
And so it was that found them less than a week later in the very same field outside of Camelot where this had all begun. Merlin was once again supposedly on a foraging trip for Gaius' needs and Arthur had managed to squirm out of whatever he was supposed to be doing that day. Merlin secretly suspected that he was quite eager to see what his magic was capable of.
This time, he had a cloak draped around his shoulders, because not only was it mortifying to be naked in Arthur's company, but the grass was itchy and he thought he might be allergic to it. Also, there were things living in it and he'd really rather not think about that. It was the work of seconds to turn himself back into a bird and he launched himself up onto Arthur's outstretched arm without further ado.
Arthur smiled and scratched under his chin gently. "Do you realise you're a merlin?" he asked and Merlin cocked his head in confusion. "I mean the falcon? It's rather apt I suppose." He ran his fingers down Merlin's back and then gently grasped a wing and stretched it wide. Merlin shifted to balance himself and squawked in indignation, snatching his wing back.
Arthur laughed and threw his arm upwards, propelling Merlin into startled flight. Merlin shrieked as he started falling and he flapped his wings haphazardly watching the ground come closer oh god, I'm gonna go splat! and then his wings synchronized and he was moving up, up into the clear blue sky, Arthur dwindling below him.
He soared until he felt a thermal rising underneath him and began circling it lazily, angling his wings with ease. He could see for miles from here; Camelot a large, shining white point to the east, and further out the wrinkled, crawling scape of sea. He could see across the tops of the forest to the south, each tree in startling detail and every movement amongst each branch. Below, he saw a rabbit dart out from its warren but he managed to ignore it, the rush of flying a better feeling than he could have imagined.
Eventually he reached the top of the thermal and was forced to turn and glide elsewhere in the hope of picking up another. He looked down to see that Arthur had settled in the grass and was lying on his back, staring up at him with a soft, fond expression. I bet he doesn't realise I can see that. There was a call from behind him and he looked around in time to see a kestrel shoot out from the canopy of a nearby tree.
"Stranger," it called in a high, thin voice as it stopped to hover nearby. "What news from distant lands?"
Merlin stared, because that was the most intelligent conversation he'd had with any of the animals. "Er," he said slowly, trying to think and noticing peripherally that Arthur had sat up, looking concerned. "The days grow shorter and cooler?" he improvised and it seemed it was enough because the kestrel blinked regally.
"You speak the truth, wanderer. The Migration is almost upon us," it called back, "soon we must return to warmer climes. Raise your chicks well." And it was off, shooting away and then diving after the rabbit Merlin had spotted earlier.
He spent a while more wheeling and gliding in the air, until he saw the sun beginning to set in the far distance, a slight darkening of light on the horizon to the west and he slowly made his descent. He coasted down and down, wings outstretched, feet inching forwards and then Arthur's arm was once more ready for him and he alighted gently with minimal wobbling.
Arthur smiled and he hopped off, concentrating for a moment and then he was human again, grinning and flushed with excitement. "Wow," he breathed, "that was amazing! I've never been so high and the view and my eyesight and I never realised Camelot was so close to the sea and actually birds can have really intelligent conversations--"
Arthur kneeled beside him and clamped a hand over his mouth, grinning with him. "Breathe," he instructed and Merlin did as he was told, head spinning with the flush of joy. "It was amazing," he agreed, "though I almost had a heart attack when I saw the kestrel come out."
Merlin laughed and fell back onto the grass. "Actually, it only wanted to know what was happening wherever I was from and then it told me to raise my chicks well." He laughed again, but when Arthur didn't join in, he turned to look at him, having to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun.
Arthur was smiling softly, that same strange look he'd had on his face when Merlin had been flying. "You're amazing," he said reverentially and Merlin gaped, for once utterly speechless. "You'll have to show me what else you can do."
Merlin thought yes, I'll show you everything, whatever you want and he reached up to grasp Arthur by his toothed pendant and drew him down into a hot, messy kiss.
Arthur kissed like he lived--full of fire and freedom, with an edge of desperation and vulnerability. He set his hands beside Merlin's head, lowering his body until they fitted together and deepened the kiss further, plundering Merlin's mouth and laying claim to every inch of it.
Merlin moaned, caught up in the heady mix of joy and lust and the sun's warm rays beating down upon his bare skin and Arthur finally kissing him, finally finally wanting him. He raised his arms and hooked them around Arthur's neck, fingers playing in the short curls of hair at the nape. Arthur groaned against his mouth and Merlin swallowed it, desperate for more and he bit down on Arthur's bottom lip, enjoying the way it made the other's hips thrust uncontrollably into his own.
Arthur pulled away, lips looking red and swollen, with a thin trickle of bright red blood welling on the bottom. He licked it absently and Merlin made a strangled noise, arching up in response, his body feeling so hot, almost like it was burning. Burning like Arthur's eyes were burning with lust and pleasure, pupils gone wide, irises a beautiful, vivid blue.
"Please," Merlin begged, fingers leaving Arthur's hair to run down his back and slip under the soft tunic, coming to rest on the small of his back.
Arthur made a strangled noise, swore and then sat up, his hips pressing firmly into Merlin's legs. Merlin whimpered, hands tightening their hold on the other's back, but then Arthur was raising his arms and shrugging off his shirt and oh, that's more like it and there was so much skin, warm and golden. Arthur leant back down to catch Merlin's lips in another kiss, one hand moving to skim down Merlin's side, rubbing over his ribs, making Merlin giggle into the kiss.
He smirked, rolling his hips forwards and Merlin's breath stuttered, thrusting upwards uncontrollably until Arthur stilled him with a hand.
"Please," Merlin begged again, because last time that had been rather successful, "'s'not fair. You're...clothes!" he yelped as Arthur bit down on the juncture between neck and shoulder, hand skimming across his belly until it reached his cock, winding fingers around it and pulling in a slow, delicious rhythm. Merlin sobbed with pleasure, thinking Arthur naked, want Arthur naked and then abruptly he was, his breeches folding themselves neatly next to Merlin's clothes.
"Er," said Merlin when Arthur stopped at the sudden, unexpected flow of air around his nether-regions. "Sorry, I didn't really mean--" he was cut off by a growl and then Arthur was biting his lips, forcing them open and manhandling him until Merlin was only half underneath him, legs spread wide.
Merlin shivered and writhed, fingernails digging into the muscles of Arthur's back, heels digging into the earth. Oh god, he thought wildly, we can't--have to stop--don't have any--, but his magic obliged and the plants in the pouch leapt up and pulverized themselves into a slippery, warm liquid which promptly coated Arthur's fingers.
Arthur blinked and then laughed outright as Merlin blushed furiously and cursed his magic. "Someone's eager," Arthur whispered and his dripping fingers slid between Merlin's buttocks, teasing, circling and then pushing in.
"Nnngrr," said Merlin and squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of burning fullness and stretching. Arthur's other hand soothed the wrinkles from his face and he dropped soft, butterfly kisses over his shut eyelids as he gently introduced another finger and then another, tips brushing the spot inside which made Merlin clench and keen, so close to coming he could almost taste it.
Arthur backed off and Merlin opened his eyes in panic, "No, please--don't--" but then Arthur was propping up one of Merlin's legs and guiding himself inside, sliding in relentlessly in one agonising thrust until he was fully sheathed and they both breathed for a long moment.
"Please," Merlin said, because his vocabulary had vanished out the window. "Move!" Arthur obliged, suddenly brutal, hips bruising Merlin's as he set a fast, vigorous pace. Merlin made a series of hitched, incoherent noises, tightening his legs around Arthur's waist, his hands clawing at Arthur's back, pleasure washing his mind blank as he babbled, "oh god, yes, faster, please!".
Arthur gripped his cock again, stroking in rhythm with his thrusts and Merlin bucked into Arthur's hand and then his hips, straining upwards. His hands rose to drag Arthur's head down for a breathy kiss and then Arthur was growling in his ear, "Come, damnit--Merlin!"
Merlin came, his orgasm zinging through every nerve in his body, forcing his back to arch, his toes to curl, until every muscle clenched and unclenched in sequence seemingly with no end and then finally he fell limp, gasping as Arthur continued for a few more thrusts, sweat lining his brow until he too came, stiffening and emptying himself inside Merlin with a hoarse shout. Merlin squirmed at the sensation against his oversensitive insides and the movement made Arthur twitch and he stilled Merlin's hips.
"Don't," he gasped and stayed absolutely still for a few moments and then collapsed onto his elbows with a groan, his head resting in the crook of Merlin's neck. Merlin stroked his hair and his back, feeling the beating of their hearts against each other as their bodies cooled and Arthur's softened cock slipped out.
Merlin lay for a long while, eyes closed as he basked in pleasure and the liquid heat of a setting sun. Arthur nudged him, "Merlin," he said quietly and his voice sounded a little strained, but Merlin was lax and almost asleep. "Merlin," Arthur hissed again and poked him in the ribs for good measure.
"What?" he snapped irritably and sat up, only for his head to collide with something bendy and then there was a shower of leaves falling from above. He paused and looked up. They were encased in some sort of tent, trees thrust up from the meadow and bending to arch above them and provide shade and privacy. Long strands of grass and leaves were interwoven in amongst the treetops and tiny, white flowers bloomed across their length. Beneath them, the ground had dipped and shifted, roots curling to form a circular shape and moss had grown up beneath to form a soft, comfortable bed.
"Merlin," Arthur said in a strained voice. "You've made a nest."
And Merlin could only nod in mortification, because so he had and he spared a moment to think, gratefully, well, at least neither of us has laid eggs.
There was a soft chuffing sound behind them and they both turned to see a six-pointed stag nibbling on the leaves of their private bower. A rabbit hopped past them and Merlin could suddenly see birds perched amongst the branches, singing sweetly.
"You," said Arthur, "are such a girl."
Later, when it was almost dark and Merlin had managed to successfully take down the 'love nest' as Arthur had dubbed it laughingly and had managed to shoo away the dozens of animals he had apparently called to him, they both sat in Arthur's room with an unnatural fire blazing merrily away in the hearth, throwing shadows of twining plants and flying birds and regal stags all across the walls.
"Sorry," said Merlin, "I can't get it to stop."
Arthur was engrossed in watching the flames dance and the glowing embers forming images of castles and knights on horseback chasing each other around the grate. He looked up suddenly, eyes reflecting the orange heat of the fire and his smile was as bright as the sun. "Show me more," he pleaded and Merlin could do nothing except obey.
Much, much later, when it was almost morning and Merlin had made the carvings of plants and animals across Arthur's bed come alive and orchestrated an indoor blizzard before finally fading away the ceiling and showing distant, glimmering stars and planets, and after Arthur had pounced him twice more and they had proceeded to have very good, messy sex twice more, Merlin lay curled up against Arthur, his head resting on Arthur's chest as the other's fingers carded through his dampened hair.
"I love your magic," Arthur whispered in the pre-dawn light, "and I promise that no-one will take it, or you, away from me. You will never come to harm while I can still help it."
Merlin smiled and kissed the strip of flesh nearest to him, shifting sleepily.
"And when I am King," Arthur added with a hint of excitement, "everyone will know what you are and what you are capable of and together we will conquer all of Albion."
Merlin smiled, thinking, yes, we will. And the world will remember us forever. Behind them, the fire banked suddenly, low and sputtering, embers glowing red-hot. Outside, birds were beginning to sing and Merlin sighed in contentment, enjoying the feeling of Arthur's hands in his hair.
"Merlin," Arthur said conversationally after a while, "do you realise that you're purring?"
Merlin paused to think so I am and it's quite nice really and then he was a tabby cat, warm and fluffy and splayed out across Arthur's chest. Arthur laughed and sunk his fingers into Merlin's fur.
"You know," he said, "I almost prefer you as a cat," and then he yelped when Merlin-cat sank sharp claws into his belly, turning to look at him with a smug air. Arthur pried him off and dropped him to the floor, ignoring the undignified yowl. "I did say 'almost'," he added as an indignant Merlin sat up, glaring, his hair in disarray. "There are certain things I want to do to you that I can't do when you're a cat," he said cheekily, enjoying the way Merlin flushed with heat.
"Pervert," Merlin muttered, but then he was back on the bed, straddling Arthur and they were kissing again.
The wind outside whispered I love you between the turrets and towers. Birds on their chilly morning perches sang now and in all the times that follow in their sweet voices. Deep within the woods, the beasts of the forest paused to look towards the looming, glittering castle by the sea. And nothing will come between it, they thought.
And inside the warm, cozy room, Arthur and Merlin answered each other in kind.
There grew up around the campfires tales of a six-pointed stag that haunted the forest, fleet as the wind, agile and insubstantial as the mist with bright eyes that sparkled with human intelligence. No man could catch it, they claimed, for it would vanish on a turn or else dance amongst the trees until they could follow no longer. It was not a beast of this earth, they whispered, but more a spirit of the forest, and woe to any man who tried to hunt it.
There grew up many tales of how Arthur could oftentimes be spied in the company of a falcon when he was out walking or hunting, or of a scruffy mongrel dog when he was out patrolling, or a fat tabby cat when he was relaxing in his rooms with the fire burning merrily in the hearth. None knew to whom they belonged or where they rested when he returned without them. And if they noticed that Merlin was never seen in their company, they very carefully said nothing.
Because each man knew that, like the stag of the forest, woe would befall any man who dared to harm the prince's manservant.
FIN.
A/N: This began life as a passing thought of how Merlin might learn to turn into all the animals he turns Arthur into in The Sword in the Stone. The hunting scene leapt onto the page and the rest was history! xD And in the part where Merlin thinks "I am a mouse", I couldn't stop humming "I am a mole and I live in a hole"! You have no idea how tempted I was to change it to a mole xD
Also, yes British merlins are resident, not migratory but I liked the idea of there being a sixth sense so, poetic license and all that!
Author: tarayith
Word Count: approx. 9,500
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Uh, none, aside from the smexing xD
Summary: Merlin decides he wants to learn to fly. Only things don't quite go to plan.
Notes: Once again, this wasn't supposed to be nearly this long but it grew like a cancer. Not betaed because it's been ages since I wrote much and my old betas are long gone. I'd be grateful if anyone wants to offer :)
A Thousand Different Skins
The idea came to him suddenly.
He was lying on his back in an open field bordered by oak woodland on the outskirts of Camelot, watching the clouds drift by lazily overhead, the low hum of insects throbbing through the thready scents of sweet flowers dancing in the breeze. It was a hot day, the sort that leant itself to lazing and sleeping and Merlin was currently busy doing both. Gaius had sent him out earlier that morning with a request for all sorts of bizarre herbs and roots for his experiments and would not expect him back until dusk.
What Gaius, or indeed anyone, had not worked out, was that he did not need to be out until dusk. Merlin had discovered a very long time ago that there were not many things that magic could not do for him better than he could do himself. This was the reason he was currently half-asleep under the arching azure sky while the collecting pouch lay open beside him as all manner of plants waltzed across the grass to place themselves inside it.
There came a shrill call on the wind and he opened his eyes to see a kestrel hovering on the thermals high above, wings twitching only a mere fraction, a small speck that hung motionless in the sky. He thought it must be quite nice, to be able to ride the wind, command the breezes to bear you, especially on such a hot day. It was a shame he was earth-bound.
He sat up suddenly, disturbing the small cloud of insects that had gathered. Maybe he wasn't earth-bound. Maybe he could do that.
After all, if magic could kill creatures he hadn't even known existed and, really, any number of the crazy things he'd seen since coming to Camelot, why couldn't it turn him into a bird?
Above him, the kestrel abruptly dived and he grinned.
He began the following week.
The heat was having an undesirable effect on most of the castle's inhabitants, not least of whom was King Uther who was calling Important Meetings at all hours and which inevitably left Arthur in a foul mood and which, equally inevitably, he took out on Merlin. On top of that, there was the sudden inclination of the delicate court ladies to faint from the heat and it was apparently his job to run around delivering Gaius' sweet-smelling brews to wake them.
Nevertheless, he eventually managed to find an entire afternoon when no-one would bother him and locked himself in his room with only the magic book for company. The book had been thoroughly unhelpful on the matter. The nearest spell it described to what he was looking for was a brief entry detailing a charm for augmenting one's hearing which, it went on, may be somewhat similar to a dog's.
So Merlin resigned himself to many hours of frustration and the very real possibility that this experiment may not work at all.
Trying for a bird the first time round was, he felt, maybe a little too ambitious. Aside from the fact that a bird's anatomy was about as far away from a human's as it was possible to get, they also had the tendency to fly and he didn't much fancy that going wrong any time soon. On the other hand, he didn't want to try anything too small like, for instance, a ladybird for while that had the very useful potential for spying on people it also had the frightening habit of being stepped upon. After much deliberation he finally settled on a mouse, reasoning that at least they were mammals and he'd certainly seen more than enough to have a rough idea of what they were like and he'd even eaten a rat, so it seemed appropriate.
Two hours later Merlin thought that maybe his ears were a little bigger and he might possibly have had the first suggestion of whiskers, but then he hadn't shaved recently so maybe not. He sighed and decided to try again another day.
Gaius was moving around downstairs now and when Merlin walked in he looked up from peering into the depths of a large conical flask. "Ah, Merlin," he said absently, swirling a foul greenish liquid, "I believe Prince Arthur was looking for you a moment ago." There was a faint hint of disapproval in his tone, as if the prince should not have to resort to looking for his manservant, but there was also an echo of resignation as if he knew Merlin too well by now to hope for any better.
"Right," said Merlin. "Where was he?"
"Coming off the training field, the last I saw of him." Merlin nodded and moved towards the door. "Oh, and Merlin?" he paused, hand already half pushing the door open and turned around again. "Lamar, the stableboy," Merlin had a flash of a gangly, skinny boy of about twelve with a wide-toothed smile and a fuzzy orange cat in his arms, "his cat Esme has given birth to kittens again. I told his mother we'd take one in. Goodness knows we need a mouser around here."
Merlin tried to ignore the feeling of distaste curling in his belly (and where had that come from because he'd always secretly had a soft spot for cats) and merely nodded, finally exiting to find Arthur.
"Merlin," was Arthur's greeting when he finally found him in the armoury, "I don't like having to ask after you."
"Sorry, sire," Merlin replied. And then because he was stupid like that: "I don't much like it either."
Arthur gave him a sharp look. "You know," he said converstionally, "I realise that you're possibly the worst manservant in all of history, but would it kill you--" and he stopped, because Merlin had just made a noise that sounded very much like a terrified mouse and had promptly tried to vanish into the corner.
Arthur stared. Merlin stared back, just as surprised. "I think," Arthur said slowly, "that maybe you need to have Gaius take a look at you."
Merlin nodded and left silently. Arthur watched him go and thought are Merlin's ears bigger than normal?
By the end of the day, Merlin had jumped at no fewer than five hissing cats crossing his path, had an insane urge to defecate nervously when the King swept past and had had to forcibly restrain himself from stuffing his mouth full of food from the kitchens and hiding it elsewhere.
Maybe his experiment hadn't been as much of a failure as he'd thought.
Luckily the mousy side-effects wore off quickly and he was soon able to go about his duties as normal. He had to wait for over a week before there came a day when both Arthur and Gaius were occupied for a decent period of time which would enable him to disappear unnoticed for a few hours. When that time finally came, he firmly locked his door and sat cross-legged in the centre of his bed. In his hand he held a small mirror which he may or may not have stolen from Morgana, but surely she had enough she wouldn't notice one going missing?
He held the mirror up and stared into it for a long moment, and then he thought I am a mouse and watched very carefully. There was no apparent change in his features--his ears remained just-too-large, his nose was normal, his eyes were still blue. He frowned and stared hard at his reflection. I am a mouse, he told himself firmly, I am a mouse.
Several long minutes later and nothing--not a twitch of his nose, nor a flash of a whisker. He threw the mirror down in disgust and flopped onto his back. Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. Maybe he needed to think more like a mouse. So what did mice spend their lives doing?
Reproducing, was his brain's quick reply and he frowned. Eating, uh...running around under floorboards...
He shut his eyes, imagined scampering around in the cramped, dark world of below, dust and cobwebs and droppings piled high. Maybe it was comforting, that enclosed life, safe where predators could not follow. He imagined the indecision that would set in, the difficulty choosing between safety and hunger or to venture outside into danger to steal some food.
There was a flash of white across his vision and then, when Merlin opened his eyes again, he was wreathed in soft, warm darkness. Too dangerous, his brain told him frantically and he was off scrambling across the bed and down to the floor, all run, hide, dark places. He wedged himself eventually between the bedpost and the bedstand, trying to calm his breathing, his tiny, frantic heart beating in abject terror and god, it's going to explode.
His nose was twitching constantly, making him feel a little like he might want to sneeze at any moment and his ears were rotating at the slightest stir of air in the room. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. When he opened them again, he carefully took stock of the situation.
Judging by the humungous size of the bed he was hiding under, he'd say he'd managed to turn into a mouse. Excitement shot through him and without thought, Merlin-mouse began spinning in circles. He had four, stubby legs underneath his body--wow, that's weird--and there was a tail twitching happily behind him.
Spurred on by his success, Merlin-mouse set off to explore his strange new world. Everything was so much larger now but smaller things, things at floor-level had suddenly taken on an amazing amount of detail. The crack under his door was hey, actually really big and whoops, he hadn't meant to leave his room but oh well, here were the stairs and weren't they challenging? Oh, the laboratory, and so many interesting smells and things to hide behind!
The curved flasks and bottles provided amusement for a brief while but then there was a crash from outside and Yeah, outside! Let's explore outside!
He was having to do quite a lot of weaving to avoid being stepped on as he scurried through the tower into the courtyard. Wow, that woman screams really loudly. There was suddenly a broomstick following him and his heart rate shot up to astronomical heights, run, hide, find a hole. Why wouldn't these people leave him alone?
Eventually he escaped through the legs of a small huge, really, really huge boy and darted through an open door as fast as his mouse-legs would carry him. He headed for the first shadows he saw which turned out to be a large pile of straw and he buried himself right into the middle until it was dark and scratchy but safe. The only sound was his heartbeat thumping in his huge ears, which were still moving manically.
He waited for an age until he had calmed somewhat and could begin to think clearly. Being a mouse wasn't nearly so fun anymore, but he could hardly change back into a man in the middle of a pile of straw. Scents started to filter in and the most overpowering was of large animal dung, but it didn't smell like a dangerous animal, although wow, it must shit a lot!
Slowly, he edged his way back out of the straw pile, still carefully listening for any danger. Satisfied that he could hear nothing, he scampered out only to stop immediately at the leering, drooling cat crouched before him.
"Crap," he squeaked. "Please don't eat me, I'm not really a mouse!"
The cat was bright orange and very fluffy and was fixing him with a very scary look.
"Tasty mousy," it said, licking its teeth, slopping drool as it prepared to leap and Merlin prepared to die.
"Esme! Where are you?"
The shout startled them both and Merlin took advantage of the cat's distraction to dart back into the straw. There were footsteps and then an undignified yowl as Esme was picked up. Merlin headed in the opposite direction and aimed for the shadows of the still-open door. Looking back, he saw Esme watching him with narrow, yellow eyes, but then the boy's hands started scratching her chin and her eyes fell shut.
"Silly human," she purred, "mousy was going to die. But, oooh, that's nice, scratch there, no higher, not like that, idiot human, there, stay there, just like that, yeeesss..."
Merlin made his escape.
The journey back to his rooms was fraught with terror and he feared for his life every step of the way as people thundered on with their business so loudly. Eventually, he pulled an exhausted, terrified body back under his door and thought I'd really like to be human again and he was, toes wedged painfully under the door, but alive. Naked, but his clothes were still on the bed where they had fallen and he was ridiculously lucky he hadn't died.
Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.
The problem, Merlin decided after much thought, was not so much in his execution but in his choice of animal. He needed something larger than a mouse that was less prone to running at the slightest chance of danger, but also nothing too big as to attract unwanted attention. And he'd prefer it for now if it was an animal which stayed firmly rooted to the ground. A cat seemed like the logical choice, but then there were the occasional cat-culls when their numbers got too high and knowing his luck...
So not a cat. Maybe a dog was the way forward.
The mind of a dog was a lot harder to understand than a mouse's. For one thing, there were so many different kinds of dog to choose from. There were the hunting hounds, sleek, athletic, vicious animals and he didn't much like the thought of being in one of those bodies. There were the fat, pampered creatures doted on by their wealthy owners, there were the scruffy, street mongrels and the large, muscled thugs of the fighting arenas and he couldn't begin to imagine what any of those animals thought like.
Eventually, he decided to try for one of the dogs he had known well in Ealdor, reasoning that he would have a better idea of its thoughts. This time, he was already hiding out in an abandoned shed (because he was certain Gaius would notice something was up when a parade of animals started emerging from Merlin's room), his clothes removed and folded neatly beside him. Merlin felt vaguely ridiculous, sitting there naked with his eyes shut, but all in the name of learning to fly...
He started trying to think like a dog. Maybe where the next meal would come from? The village dogs back home hadn't had much to worry about on that account--they were usually thrown something once the pigs had been fed. Maybe a warm place to spend the night? The winter nights had been literally freezing in Ealdor and often Merlin had woken to find a small mongrel tucked in beside him, trying to keep warm. Certainly they had seemed to enjoy human company, running after the children yipping happily and enthusiastically joining in their games.
His bottom twitched.
Merlin's eyes snapped open in confusion, jerking towards the offending region, only to discover a long, furiously wagging tail. He whuffed in excitement, told himself to shush or people would hear him and then chased his tail in circles. So close, just run harder and---catch it! He gnawed on the end of his tail contentedly for a while and then turned his attention to sorting out his limbs.
They were harder to get to grips with than the mouse's. They were larger, more restless, and every time he had one straight and knew where it was, his mind went off elsewhere and his legs moved without his permission. And that infernal tail would not stop wagging!
He spent a good while moving around in the hut, familiarising himself with his body, before carefully poking his nose outside. Seeing no-one, smelling no-one he trotted out.
Oooh, wow! The varied scents were so differentiated, so vivid that it was like he was smelling in colour. So many interesting smells! He sniffed around for a long time and then, feeling the strangest urge, lifted his leg and urinated over the edge of the hut.
He blushed. Uh...let's try not to do that again.
His new body, however, didn't seem to agree with him and every few metres he found himself trotting over to a tall thing, lifting his leg and promptly spraying his urine everywhere. It was downright embarrassing, but he couldn't seem to stop himself and every time he marked his territory, his tail started wagging harder and harder.
There were people out and about but they largely ignored him, unlike when he had been a mouse and he was profoundly grateful for that. Several other dogs loped past but a mere exchange of growls and bared teeth had each of them put its tail between its legs and slink off. Merlin strode around cockily, his nose in the air and that female has a tasty smelling butt!
He did not just think that.
He veered away and took off down an alley, moving aimlessly, enjoying the sheer freedom being out and unrecognised gave him. Ahead, he heard a shout and then a loud volley of laughter. He looked up to see a group of boys play-fighting with sticks, rolling around on the floor in fits of laughter.
Looks like fun! he thought and took off towards them at a lope.
"Hey," he said when he drew closer, "let's play!" Only it came out as quite a vicious-sounding bark actually and the boys were looking at him in fear. "I just wanna play," he tried again and added a small, playful yip for emphasis, but that hadn't sounded much better. Evidently, the boys had decided the same because one of them stepped forwards, brandishing his stick in front of him.
"G'way," he yelled and Merlin's tail stopped wagging.
He whined at them. "I only want to play with you. See, I don't want to hurt you!"
The boy's face contorted in anger. Merlin had a split second warning of something is not right and then the boy was upon him, his stick rising and falling in a sickening rhythm. The others joined in and soon the only sound in the alley was that of shouts and the thumping of wood on flesh, where before the sounds of happiness had rung off the walls.
Merlin whimpered and curled into himself. His natural instinct was to snap and bite but that only brought an increase in fervour of the attack. "Please---don't hurt me," he gasped and yelped as he felt something snap. "I only wanted to play."
Who knew dogs could cry?
The boys tired eventually and left, laughing and congratulating each other. Merlin lay limp, panting for breath, everything hurting. He didn't know how long he lay there until he heard a voice nearby saying, "There now, boy. Poor lad, who's been at you?"
Gentle, warm hands ran across his limbs and ribs, checking for damage. "Quite a lot of bruising there, fella, but no breaks. I'm going to go and get someone to help me carry you inside, alright. There's a good boy."
The man patted his head soothingly and Merlin licked the hand gratefully. Once the hurried footsteps had faded away, he whimpered and pulled himself to his feet. He couldn't stay here for the other to come back, no matter how tempting it may be. It was just too much of a risk.
He limped slowly away.
Unfortunately Arthur required his services that night, so Merlin hauled his bruised, aching body up to the prince's rooms.
"Merlin," Arthur said as soon as he opened the door, "you've managed to be conspicuously absent all afternoon." He turned around and froze, whatever he had been about to say lost in his throat as he caught sight of Merlin.
Merlin smiled self-consciously and even that seemed to hurt. "What?"
Arthur strode across the room silently and seized his hand. Merlin looked down and saw that the knuckles were scratched and bloody and there was the beginning of a nasty purple welt below his elbow. Arthur made a distressed noise and tugged Merlin over to the bed insistently, forcing him to sit and then methodically began removing his shirt, ignoring Merlin's protests.
Merlin thought he must have looked pretty bad if Arthur's face were anything to go by. He looked down and winced in spite of himself. His ribs were a canvas of red and purple and there was no discernible edge to where it began or ended. All across his sides and back, straight, raised wheals stood out, unmistakably the work of a cane.
"Who has done this?" Arthur asked and even Merlin could detect the quiet fury in his voice.
Merlin stayed silent because he couldn't very well say a group of small boys had beaten him up. Arthur's eyes darkened and he took Merlin by the shoulder gently.
"Merlin, you must tell me, who has done this? This should not be allowed to happen." There was anguish in those blue eyes and a tremble in his voice and Merlin felt terrible to have to lie.
"Arthur," he started, lost, "I--I can't say." His breath hitched and he wrung his hands anxiously.
Arthur gripped his shoulder tighter and Merlin had to control his wince. "Why? Who are you protecting?" There was a pause. "Merlin," he said, voice rough and then, in a far softer tone, "Merlin, there is no-one in this castle, no-one, whom I will allow to get away with harming you."
Even if you knew the whole truth? The thought made him ache inside and actually, he didn't want to know the answer to that, he really, really didn't because the very concept of it terrified him.
"I can't," he whispered eventually, eyes begging Arthur to please, understand. "I'm sorry."
Arthur drew back, his hand falling away and something raised between them, a barrier which Merlin had never noticed before but now felt keenly as it drew into place.
"Arthur--"
"Go and see Gaius," Arthur said quietly, rising from the bed. "Take a few days off, however long you need."
He stood staring into the fire as behind him Merlin struggled painfully back into his shirt. When he was finished, Arthur suddenly whirled around, pinning him with an icy glare. "Protect this person if you must," he said fiercely, "but know that when I find out---I will kill them."
They both seemed surprised at his vehemence, but then Arthur turned away in a clear dismissal, glaring at the wall. Merlin sat on the bed for a few more moments, something warm blossoming in the pit of his stomach. And then he dragged himself away.
Transforming into animals was altogether too risky, Merlin thought. If his first two attempts were anything to go by, he'd rather not be a bird. That one could end very badly. His bruises were mostly gone now, helped along by some of Gaius's healing balm and a lot of his own magic. Arthur was beginning to lose that strange, distressed look in his eye, though he had made it clear he would not forget the incident and he would find the man responsible.
Merlin decided: the experiment was firmly, absolutely, shelved.
Shortly after, Arthur decided to go hunting and to bring Merlin along as general dogsbody and to flush out the prey. Arthur made all manner of weird, interpretive gestures which Merlin took to mean to circle around the buck they had spotted and chase it back towards Arthur and he set off, mentally grumbling to himself.
If the buck hadn't heard him by now, he thought angrily as he shifted into position and accidentally stepped on yet another twig, it really ought to be removed from the gene pool anyway. He watched it for a moment as it grazed contentedly on the lush, young grass, massive antlered head occasionally raising to peer around as it chewed slowly. That must be a headache, he thought, to carry all that weight.
And suddenly he was falling forwards under the abrupt, heavy weight of antlers. The buck whipped its head around sharply, large, liquid eyes pinpointing his position and then it raised its head and bellowed.
"MY TERRITORY," it roared and Merlin was still stumbling around, head to the ground, gouging great furrows in the earth, "MY FEMALES, WHO DARES TRESPASS?"
Merlin, his nose buried in the dirt, uncomfortably aware of the thorn lodged up his left front-hoof and the fact that his small, white tail was twitching shouted back, "No, no, ignore me, just passing through, no harm meant."
Which was of course the moment Arthur chose to come bursting out of the undergrowth, crossbow raised high.
There followed a great deal of confusion. Arthur, apparently given up waiting for his manservant to be useful, had charged ahead to take the deer by surprise. Upon finding not one but two, he faltered briefly. The other buck panicked, eyes gone huge and it leapt a foot in the air, bounding hastily away from this new threat, screaming "RUN, RUN." Merlin, finally succeeding in balancing his head, carefully raised it only to discover the other deer racing full-pelt towards him. "MOVE," it screamed at him and he wobbled to the left, feet splaying outwards. His head swayed drunkenly, the other deer leapt and then their antlers were locked, tugging and pushing furiously.
"Ow," said Merlin as an antler poked his shoulder and then, "OW," because the other didn't cease in its frantic movements. "TWO-LEGS! RUN!" it bellowed in his ear and Merlin thought Arthur should really hurry up and shoot the damn thing.
"Just, move to the left and I'll move this--ow!" He jerked his head up hard and then suddenly the other buck was flying over his shoulder, landing on his back, small, hard hooves kicking into his sides and finally they were apart. The other leapt up impressively fast and darted away, yelling itself hoarse.
And then Arthur shot him.
"OW," he screamed and there was a brief moment of oh, god please don't shoot me again, don't kill me, before he was suddenly human again, very in pain and very naked. Shifting to a sitting position, he looked at himself, feeling dizzy when he saw the arrow jutting out from the side of his buttock.
"Arthur," he panted, voice trembling, "you have rubbish aim."
Arthur made a strange noise and then dropped the crossbow, stumbling to his knees beside Merlin. He ran a hand gently over Merlin's thigh as he checked the wound. "It's not deep," he said quietly, voice shaking, "but we should get you back to Camelot quickly."
Merlin gritted his teeth as Arthur efficiently snapped the arrow and he was suddenly very aware that he was naked and that Arthur was kneeling in front of him, intent on his groin. He groaned. "I don't suppose you have anything I could wear?"
Arthur looked up in shock and his eyes flitted briefly to the remains of Merlin's clothing lying shredded and trampled in the dirt. "Er, no," he said. "Sorry...were you really just a deer?"
Merlin sighed, thinking it had probably been too much to hope that Arthur wouldn't notice that bit. "Can we have the massive argument and possible executing later, please?" he asked hopefully and gasped for good measure. "Because this really, really hurts."
Arthur nodded woodenly and helped him up, leading the way back to their horses in.
"No executing," he said softly after a while. "I told you: there isn't anyone in Camelot whom I will allow to harm you."
Merlin gave a choked laugh. "Except yourself, apparently."
Arthur smiled. "That's different."
Several hours later, Merlin was feeling a lot better. Granted, riding back into Camelot bundled in Arthur's cloak, on Arthur's horse and with Arthur riding behind him had been deeply, deeply embarrassing. But unless he wanted to spend the entire trip back to Camelot falling off his own horse, he had to swallow his pride.
What was far more painful was the conversation which followed with Gaius.
"What have you been doing, Merlin?" the man asked with the effortless air of someone who expected answers now.
Merlin squirmed. "Uh-" he said but was interrupted when Arthur, who had been leaning on the closed door, stepped further into the room and said,
"Turning himself into animals."
There followed an uncomfortable moment where each of the three tried evaluating the others for determining the likelihood of any possible executing in the near future.
"Erm," said Merlin and looked warily at Gaius, who appeared to be busy having a silent heart attack.
Gaius made an odd sound, that came out as "nnggh?" and watched Arthur carefully, as if expecting to have to fend off his attacks.
Arthur smirked. "If it helps, I didn't know until I shot him. As a deer," he added helpfully and Gaius looked like he might crumple where he stood.
Eventually, he said, "Shot him?" and immediately bustled over to Merlin's side who was feeling a bit left out, actually, and still in quite a bit of pain. Gaius prodded him gently, muttering about stupid warlocks and their stupid princes, until finally he straightened and said,
"Right, you," and he pointed a crooked finger at Merlin, "stay there, don't move, and you," the finger moved until it pointed at Arthur who looked a little nonplussed, "can make yourself useful and come with me."
And they both disappeared outside. Merlin, left alone with an arrow in his butt, watched the door apprehensively and hoped that neither would kill the other in some misguided act of protection. He need not have worried because seconds later the both of them stepped back into the room and were immediately at his side.
"We've sorted a few things out," Arthur told him in a tone that Merlin knew well, the thoroughly-chastised-after-a-Gaius-lecture tone of voice. "I will not let my father know about this, but in return you have to stop doing stupid things like turning yourself into animals!"
Merlin protested. "I didn't mean to turn into a deer," he said indignantly and if there was a touch of a whine to that then, well, it had been a long day. "It just happened."
Gaius gave him a stern look. "I doubt that anything 'just happens' with you, Merlin." He glanced briefly at Arthur who was kneeling by Merlin's side, busy smoothing the sheets. "You attract trouble like no-one else I've ever seen."
The whole 'not turning into animals' thing didn't quite go as planned. Mere days after Merlin was finally recovered and returned to his duties as a manservant, Arthur made a sudden, throwaway comment about wishing he could be a fly on the wall in one of his father's meetings. Merlin thought that'd be pretty interesting and then he was buzzing around Arthur's head, trying to avoid being accidentally swatted.
Two days later, while they were out on Uther's orders inspecting the moat, Merlin thought it'd be a lot easier if I could actually swim and then a sleek, brown otter was scampering across the grass and slipping into the water without a second thought.
After, Arthur dragged him back up to his chambers, locked the door and gave a very long lecture as Merlin stood dripping miserably all over the floor.
"--need to get this under control!" he was saying for what seemed the umpteenth time, "you can't go around changing into animals on a whim--people will notice. You'll die!"
Merlin, thoroughly drenched (and that had been an embarrassing moment when one of the guards had asked why and Arthur had improvised a story about slipping and drowning and Arthur saving him), thought this was rather unfair. It wasn't like he was trying to get himself killed.
"I'm not trying to get myself killed," he interjected into Arthur's rant and then cringed when fierce, blue eyes pierced his. "I--just can't help it," he added softly.
Arthur sighed and dropped to the bed, head in his hands. They stood there in silence for a long while, the only sound the drip, drip of moat-water onto Arthur's expensive rug. Suddenly, Arthur's shoulders started shaking and Merlin thought for a horrific moment that he was crying, but then realised with even more horror that he was laughing.
"It figures," Arthur panted, "that you'd be just as inept at being a sorcerer as anything else."
Merlin frowned, tempted to point out that this 'inept sorcerer' had saved that idiot's life more times than he cared to count, but then Arthur looked up and said:
"God, you're soaked. Dry yourself off."
The fire in the hearth promptly rose by several feet, a blast of warm air ruffling the tapestries and skimming across Merlin's skin. Long, thin strands of warm fire curled about his hair and clothes, drying them gently and then the fire abruptly died back down, leaving two very stunned people staring at it.
"Um," said Merlin apprehensively.
Arthur stared for a moment longer and then said, "You're not leaving this room until you've got it back under control. I don't know how you aren't already dead."
And so began a period of forced quarantine in Arthur's rooms. Over the next few days, Merlin practiced at all hours, trying to control his wayward magic, but it paid him no heed. Arthur, who was apparently telling everyone that Merlin had caught some sort of embarrassing disease and was holed up in shame, was reduced to doing his own work, for once, and moaned at every opportunity. Merlin had decided that in lieu of any idea of what he was supposed to be doing to calm his magic, he'd try to exhaust it instead by turning into every animal he could possibly think of.
He'd had a good amount of recent practice of sitting in the middle of Arthur's bed pretending to be the animal of the day, while Arthur busied himself doing...whatever. All the same, it was still deeply embarrassing to sit naked (even if he pooled the sheets in his lap) with his eyes tightly shut, knowing Arthur was watching him. And if that really didn't throw his concentration out of the window, he couldn't think of much else that would.
Nevertheless, now that there was a lot less danger involved, because Arthur adamantly refused to let him leave the room, or to let anyone enter it, he was having a lot more success at turning into various animals. He had successfully mastered a cat, a snake, a fox, a rabbit and, by a bizarre fluke of chance, a small greenish animal which was agonisingly slow and had a penchant for reacting to danger by hiding in its shell. Neither of them knew what on earth it was and Merlin was pretty sure he wouldn't want to turn into it again because he couldn't think of a reason why he might need to, save imitating a rock.
Currently, he was sitting on the bed, very carefully trying to imagine what it would feel like to be a bird because maybe then his magic would be satisfied, and he was very decidedly not imagining what it would feel like if Arthur strode across the room, seized him by his shoulder and sealed his lips--
Arthur seized his shoulder and Merlin may have shrieked like a girl, though he would never admit it. Arthur's raised eyebrows said it all really.
"You're thinking too hard," he told Merlin. "I can assure you birds do not think that much."
Merlin sighed and huffed in frustration. "It's just...I don't want to think about flying in case I accidentally hit the ceiling, but, well, what on earth do birds actually do beside flying?" Shitting, his mind supplied helpfully, and he was really, really not going there because Arthur would never forgive him if he soiled the bedding.
"Er, hunting?" was the prince's response and he frowned at the condescending look he got in reply.
"Yeah, and the last thing involving hunting went so well. I don't want to turn back and find myself vomiting mouse-bits." Especially since he'd been a mouse and did that count as cannibalism?
There was nothing else for it. He would have to think of flying and hope Arthur would catch him if he did concuss himself on the ceiling.
It might have been useful if he had informed Arthur of this decision.
Which was why he promptly found himself soaring upwards with a great, ear-splitting shriek, only to flail uselessly and end up sprawled in a heap of feathers in the centre of Arthur's bed. Arthur was watching him with wide eyes and Merlin thought you were supposed to catch me and tried his best to glare. Wow, my eyesight is good and hey, when Arthur has his mouth open like that, I can see all the way into his throat and.... He cut off that thought and turned his attention elsewhere.
Being a bird was far more disorientating that any other animal he'd tried thus far. For one thing, he really did have a ridiculously small brain, although at least that made it easy to ignore its clamouring at him in panic. And there were suddenly all sorts of other senses he was aware of, like exactly how many days it was until autumn would arrive and he would start having to think about flying south, and another part of him that tugged, knowing south was that way.
He struggled to stand up straight and that was really rather difficult because he only had two spindly limbs now and the bed was fairly uneven. Without thinking, he dug his talons into the bedspread, wobbling as his wings flailed around him. Arthur made a distressed sound at the now ripped sheets and held out his arm.
"Here," he said, as if he expected bird-Merlin to follow his orders when human-Merlin hadn't.
Merlin glared, but then reasoned that Arthur's arm looked a lot steadier than the bed, and Arthur was wearing his leather vambraces which was surprisingly forward-thinking of him. He wind-milled his wings experimentally for a moment, felt the lift underneath him and the resistance above, angled his wings instinctively, jumped upwards and---
--glided towards Arthur with a smug air. The landing was slightly less graceful and there was a lot of flapping involved but eventually he was perched on Arthur's outstretched arm, wings tucked neatly into his sides, head jauntily surveying the room.
He heard a kerfuffle outside, someone saying something in a raised voice, but actually, his hearing was apparently worse in this form than in his own. Both he and Arthur startled when the door splintered and a guard stumbled in with his sword drawn, looking around frantically.
"Sire," he panted, "we heard screaming and...came to...save you?" He paused, sword tip dipping as he realised that there was no-one else in the room except for his prince and a falcon, and that his prince was giving him a scathing look.
"Did I not make it clear," he said quietly and Merlin's feathers ruffled with unease, "that no-one was to enter this room until I said so? On pain of death?"
The guard swallowed. "Uh," he stammered, "we--we thought we heard--screaming--"
"Do you not think," Arthur interrupted imperiously, "that perhaps that sound was more bird-like, or that I would not be caught screaming or that, even if I were, I should not need rescuing?"
"Er," said the guard and then something that sounded like "sorrypleasedon'tkillme" and then darted out the door, banging it loudly behind him.
Merlin stared after him and then made a strange, gurgling sound that was apparently a bird's attempts at laughter.
"Idiot," Arthur said, "you could have got us both killed."
Merlin trilled in reply and twitched his tail in contrition. He crooned when Arthur's hand fell onto his head and stroked the fine feathers there gently. "I think we'll have to move these practices outside. Somewhere far from Camelot."
And so it was that found them less than a week later in the very same field outside of Camelot where this had all begun. Merlin was once again supposedly on a foraging trip for Gaius' needs and Arthur had managed to squirm out of whatever he was supposed to be doing that day. Merlin secretly suspected that he was quite eager to see what his magic was capable of.
This time, he had a cloak draped around his shoulders, because not only was it mortifying to be naked in Arthur's company, but the grass was itchy and he thought he might be allergic to it. Also, there were things living in it and he'd really rather not think about that. It was the work of seconds to turn himself back into a bird and he launched himself up onto Arthur's outstretched arm without further ado.
Arthur smiled and scratched under his chin gently. "Do you realise you're a merlin?" he asked and Merlin cocked his head in confusion. "I mean the falcon? It's rather apt I suppose." He ran his fingers down Merlin's back and then gently grasped a wing and stretched it wide. Merlin shifted to balance himself and squawked in indignation, snatching his wing back.
Arthur laughed and threw his arm upwards, propelling Merlin into startled flight. Merlin shrieked as he started falling and he flapped his wings haphazardly watching the ground come closer oh god, I'm gonna go splat! and then his wings synchronized and he was moving up, up into the clear blue sky, Arthur dwindling below him.
He soared until he felt a thermal rising underneath him and began circling it lazily, angling his wings with ease. He could see for miles from here; Camelot a large, shining white point to the east, and further out the wrinkled, crawling scape of sea. He could see across the tops of the forest to the south, each tree in startling detail and every movement amongst each branch. Below, he saw a rabbit dart out from its warren but he managed to ignore it, the rush of flying a better feeling than he could have imagined.
Eventually he reached the top of the thermal and was forced to turn and glide elsewhere in the hope of picking up another. He looked down to see that Arthur had settled in the grass and was lying on his back, staring up at him with a soft, fond expression. I bet he doesn't realise I can see that. There was a call from behind him and he looked around in time to see a kestrel shoot out from the canopy of a nearby tree.
"Stranger," it called in a high, thin voice as it stopped to hover nearby. "What news from distant lands?"
Merlin stared, because that was the most intelligent conversation he'd had with any of the animals. "Er," he said slowly, trying to think and noticing peripherally that Arthur had sat up, looking concerned. "The days grow shorter and cooler?" he improvised and it seemed it was enough because the kestrel blinked regally.
"You speak the truth, wanderer. The Migration is almost upon us," it called back, "soon we must return to warmer climes. Raise your chicks well." And it was off, shooting away and then diving after the rabbit Merlin had spotted earlier.
He spent a while more wheeling and gliding in the air, until he saw the sun beginning to set in the far distance, a slight darkening of light on the horizon to the west and he slowly made his descent. He coasted down and down, wings outstretched, feet inching forwards and then Arthur's arm was once more ready for him and he alighted gently with minimal wobbling.
Arthur smiled and he hopped off, concentrating for a moment and then he was human again, grinning and flushed with excitement. "Wow," he breathed, "that was amazing! I've never been so high and the view and my eyesight and I never realised Camelot was so close to the sea and actually birds can have really intelligent conversations--"
Arthur kneeled beside him and clamped a hand over his mouth, grinning with him. "Breathe," he instructed and Merlin did as he was told, head spinning with the flush of joy. "It was amazing," he agreed, "though I almost had a heart attack when I saw the kestrel come out."
Merlin laughed and fell back onto the grass. "Actually, it only wanted to know what was happening wherever I was from and then it told me to raise my chicks well." He laughed again, but when Arthur didn't join in, he turned to look at him, having to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun.
Arthur was smiling softly, that same strange look he'd had on his face when Merlin had been flying. "You're amazing," he said reverentially and Merlin gaped, for once utterly speechless. "You'll have to show me what else you can do."
Merlin thought yes, I'll show you everything, whatever you want and he reached up to grasp Arthur by his toothed pendant and drew him down into a hot, messy kiss.
Arthur kissed like he lived--full of fire and freedom, with an edge of desperation and vulnerability. He set his hands beside Merlin's head, lowering his body until they fitted together and deepened the kiss further, plundering Merlin's mouth and laying claim to every inch of it.
Merlin moaned, caught up in the heady mix of joy and lust and the sun's warm rays beating down upon his bare skin and Arthur finally kissing him, finally finally wanting him. He raised his arms and hooked them around Arthur's neck, fingers playing in the short curls of hair at the nape. Arthur groaned against his mouth and Merlin swallowed it, desperate for more and he bit down on Arthur's bottom lip, enjoying the way it made the other's hips thrust uncontrollably into his own.
Arthur pulled away, lips looking red and swollen, with a thin trickle of bright red blood welling on the bottom. He licked it absently and Merlin made a strangled noise, arching up in response, his body feeling so hot, almost like it was burning. Burning like Arthur's eyes were burning with lust and pleasure, pupils gone wide, irises a beautiful, vivid blue.
"Please," Merlin begged, fingers leaving Arthur's hair to run down his back and slip under the soft tunic, coming to rest on the small of his back.
Arthur made a strangled noise, swore and then sat up, his hips pressing firmly into Merlin's legs. Merlin whimpered, hands tightening their hold on the other's back, but then Arthur was raising his arms and shrugging off his shirt and oh, that's more like it and there was so much skin, warm and golden. Arthur leant back down to catch Merlin's lips in another kiss, one hand moving to skim down Merlin's side, rubbing over his ribs, making Merlin giggle into the kiss.
He smirked, rolling his hips forwards and Merlin's breath stuttered, thrusting upwards uncontrollably until Arthur stilled him with a hand.
"Please," Merlin begged again, because last time that had been rather successful, "'s'not fair. You're...clothes!" he yelped as Arthur bit down on the juncture between neck and shoulder, hand skimming across his belly until it reached his cock, winding fingers around it and pulling in a slow, delicious rhythm. Merlin sobbed with pleasure, thinking Arthur naked, want Arthur naked and then abruptly he was, his breeches folding themselves neatly next to Merlin's clothes.
"Er," said Merlin when Arthur stopped at the sudden, unexpected flow of air around his nether-regions. "Sorry, I didn't really mean--" he was cut off by a growl and then Arthur was biting his lips, forcing them open and manhandling him until Merlin was only half underneath him, legs spread wide.
Merlin shivered and writhed, fingernails digging into the muscles of Arthur's back, heels digging into the earth. Oh god, he thought wildly, we can't--have to stop--don't have any--, but his magic obliged and the plants in the pouch leapt up and pulverized themselves into a slippery, warm liquid which promptly coated Arthur's fingers.
Arthur blinked and then laughed outright as Merlin blushed furiously and cursed his magic. "Someone's eager," Arthur whispered and his dripping fingers slid between Merlin's buttocks, teasing, circling and then pushing in.
"Nnngrr," said Merlin and squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of burning fullness and stretching. Arthur's other hand soothed the wrinkles from his face and he dropped soft, butterfly kisses over his shut eyelids as he gently introduced another finger and then another, tips brushing the spot inside which made Merlin clench and keen, so close to coming he could almost taste it.
Arthur backed off and Merlin opened his eyes in panic, "No, please--don't--" but then Arthur was propping up one of Merlin's legs and guiding himself inside, sliding in relentlessly in one agonising thrust until he was fully sheathed and they both breathed for a long moment.
"Please," Merlin said, because his vocabulary had vanished out the window. "Move!" Arthur obliged, suddenly brutal, hips bruising Merlin's as he set a fast, vigorous pace. Merlin made a series of hitched, incoherent noises, tightening his legs around Arthur's waist, his hands clawing at Arthur's back, pleasure washing his mind blank as he babbled, "oh god, yes, faster, please!".
Arthur gripped his cock again, stroking in rhythm with his thrusts and Merlin bucked into Arthur's hand and then his hips, straining upwards. His hands rose to drag Arthur's head down for a breathy kiss and then Arthur was growling in his ear, "Come, damnit--Merlin!"
Merlin came, his orgasm zinging through every nerve in his body, forcing his back to arch, his toes to curl, until every muscle clenched and unclenched in sequence seemingly with no end and then finally he fell limp, gasping as Arthur continued for a few more thrusts, sweat lining his brow until he too came, stiffening and emptying himself inside Merlin with a hoarse shout. Merlin squirmed at the sensation against his oversensitive insides and the movement made Arthur twitch and he stilled Merlin's hips.
"Don't," he gasped and stayed absolutely still for a few moments and then collapsed onto his elbows with a groan, his head resting in the crook of Merlin's neck. Merlin stroked his hair and his back, feeling the beating of their hearts against each other as their bodies cooled and Arthur's softened cock slipped out.
Merlin lay for a long while, eyes closed as he basked in pleasure and the liquid heat of a setting sun. Arthur nudged him, "Merlin," he said quietly and his voice sounded a little strained, but Merlin was lax and almost asleep. "Merlin," Arthur hissed again and poked him in the ribs for good measure.
"What?" he snapped irritably and sat up, only for his head to collide with something bendy and then there was a shower of leaves falling from above. He paused and looked up. They were encased in some sort of tent, trees thrust up from the meadow and bending to arch above them and provide shade and privacy. Long strands of grass and leaves were interwoven in amongst the treetops and tiny, white flowers bloomed across their length. Beneath them, the ground had dipped and shifted, roots curling to form a circular shape and moss had grown up beneath to form a soft, comfortable bed.
"Merlin," Arthur said in a strained voice. "You've made a nest."
And Merlin could only nod in mortification, because so he had and he spared a moment to think, gratefully, well, at least neither of us has laid eggs.
There was a soft chuffing sound behind them and they both turned to see a six-pointed stag nibbling on the leaves of their private bower. A rabbit hopped past them and Merlin could suddenly see birds perched amongst the branches, singing sweetly.
"You," said Arthur, "are such a girl."
Later, when it was almost dark and Merlin had managed to successfully take down the 'love nest' as Arthur had dubbed it laughingly and had managed to shoo away the dozens of animals he had apparently called to him, they both sat in Arthur's room with an unnatural fire blazing merrily away in the hearth, throwing shadows of twining plants and flying birds and regal stags all across the walls.
"Sorry," said Merlin, "I can't get it to stop."
Arthur was engrossed in watching the flames dance and the glowing embers forming images of castles and knights on horseback chasing each other around the grate. He looked up suddenly, eyes reflecting the orange heat of the fire and his smile was as bright as the sun. "Show me more," he pleaded and Merlin could do nothing except obey.
Much, much later, when it was almost morning and Merlin had made the carvings of plants and animals across Arthur's bed come alive and orchestrated an indoor blizzard before finally fading away the ceiling and showing distant, glimmering stars and planets, and after Arthur had pounced him twice more and they had proceeded to have very good, messy sex twice more, Merlin lay curled up against Arthur, his head resting on Arthur's chest as the other's fingers carded through his dampened hair.
"I love your magic," Arthur whispered in the pre-dawn light, "and I promise that no-one will take it, or you, away from me. You will never come to harm while I can still help it."
Merlin smiled and kissed the strip of flesh nearest to him, shifting sleepily.
"And when I am King," Arthur added with a hint of excitement, "everyone will know what you are and what you are capable of and together we will conquer all of Albion."
Merlin smiled, thinking, yes, we will. And the world will remember us forever. Behind them, the fire banked suddenly, low and sputtering, embers glowing red-hot. Outside, birds were beginning to sing and Merlin sighed in contentment, enjoying the feeling of Arthur's hands in his hair.
"Merlin," Arthur said conversationally after a while, "do you realise that you're purring?"
Merlin paused to think so I am and it's quite nice really and then he was a tabby cat, warm and fluffy and splayed out across Arthur's chest. Arthur laughed and sunk his fingers into Merlin's fur.
"You know," he said, "I almost prefer you as a cat," and then he yelped when Merlin-cat sank sharp claws into his belly, turning to look at him with a smug air. Arthur pried him off and dropped him to the floor, ignoring the undignified yowl. "I did say 'almost'," he added as an indignant Merlin sat up, glaring, his hair in disarray. "There are certain things I want to do to you that I can't do when you're a cat," he said cheekily, enjoying the way Merlin flushed with heat.
"Pervert," Merlin muttered, but then he was back on the bed, straddling Arthur and they were kissing again.
The wind outside whispered I love you between the turrets and towers. Birds on their chilly morning perches sang now and in all the times that follow in their sweet voices. Deep within the woods, the beasts of the forest paused to look towards the looming, glittering castle by the sea. And nothing will come between it, they thought.
And inside the warm, cozy room, Arthur and Merlin answered each other in kind.
There grew up around the campfires tales of a six-pointed stag that haunted the forest, fleet as the wind, agile and insubstantial as the mist with bright eyes that sparkled with human intelligence. No man could catch it, they claimed, for it would vanish on a turn or else dance amongst the trees until they could follow no longer. It was not a beast of this earth, they whispered, but more a spirit of the forest, and woe to any man who tried to hunt it.
There grew up many tales of how Arthur could oftentimes be spied in the company of a falcon when he was out walking or hunting, or of a scruffy mongrel dog when he was out patrolling, or a fat tabby cat when he was relaxing in his rooms with the fire burning merrily in the hearth. None knew to whom they belonged or where they rested when he returned without them. And if they noticed that Merlin was never seen in their company, they very carefully said nothing.
Because each man knew that, like the stag of the forest, woe would befall any man who dared to harm the prince's manservant.
FIN.
A/N: This began life as a passing thought of how Merlin might learn to turn into all the animals he turns Arthur into in The Sword in the Stone. The hunting scene leapt onto the page and the rest was history! xD And in the part where Merlin thinks "I am a mouse", I couldn't stop humming "I am a mole and I live in a hole"! You have no idea how tempted I was to change it to a mole xD
Also, yes British merlins are resident, not migratory but I liked the idea of there being a sixth sense so, poetic license and all that!