Disclaimer: The show's characters and world are the creative works and property of others. I own nothing and my story is not meant to reflect on the quality of their work in any way.

Author's Note:

Hello again!

Okay, I need to apologize here, I know I should be finishing "They Say It's Your Birthday", but, well, sometimes when inspiration hits, there's little else you can do but follow.

In this case, inspiration was provided by DragonGem777. I've never written a story based on the work of another before, but her excellent set of drabbles/short pieces "Words and Warlocks" (specifically the four chapter arc starting from 13 - Transmogrify and going to 16. Firmament and Verisimilitude) sparked an idea in my head that just wouldn't go away. I greatly recommend you go and read it. It might help you understand this story better, but I'm mostly suggesting it for the sheer pleasure it will give you.

So, with DragonGem's very kind permission, I'm giving you this. I hope you enjoy it.

Little Bird, Little Bird, Fly Through My Window

-x-

When it happened, it took little more than an instant. However, as it most often transpires, there was a time beforehand when things might have been stopped. That is, if people had been paying attention.

-x-

"Go on, Merlin, try and fly!" Gwaine exclaimed.

The others laughed, but Merlin was shaking with cold fear. Cold fear and a blinding rage.

"HA! Merlin the Merlin!" Gwaine went on, snorting as he slapped his thigh. "It's not often you meet a sorcerer with a sense of humour."

The sorcerer was dead. He wouldn't be able to put back what he'd done.

"Don't worry, Merlin," Lancelot said, but Merlin was hurt to see that even he was chuckling. "We'll find some way to turn you back."

"Please, Lancelot, please" Merlin begged helplessly, unheard by all. "I'm frightened! You don't understand! You don't know how bad this is!"

"Sure we will," Elyan agreed, then he shrugged with a smirk. "Of course, it may take a few months. Or maybe years. Decades on the absolute outside, we promise."

Merlin flapped his wings, letting out a screech as he whipped his new bird's head from left to right in impotent fury. "I can't talk! I can't talk! How can you make fun of me NOW, when I need HELP! When I can't… can't… defend… fight"

"But you'll be all right until then, won't you Merlin?" Arthur said. "You can still work for me. You could be my little courier bird, carrying and fetching messages for us. Wouldn't you like taking messages from us to all the ladies?"

Merlin's heart dropped in his chest. Birds could not cry, but what was left of Merlin the man was pained enough to weep, if only they could have seen.

"Perhaps you could take him hunting, Sire? Your Master of Falcons is always deploring how little you take the birds out," Leon suggested.

"Why… why are words getting… harder?" Merlin worried.

"Merlin? Hunt? He'd probably be as rubbish at it as a bird as he is as a servant. Probably fly into a tree, like as not. Besides, a Merlin is not appropriate for my rank. Merlins are for Emperors and Ladies of the Court." *

"Please! I want to go home! I need help! I need…I need… The old one. THE OLD ONE! WHY CAN I NOT REMEMBER HIS NAME!"

"Does a Princess not count as a Lady, then?"

It was becoming harder and harder to understand the King and the Knights' meaning. All Merlin could hear was the laughing. Meanwhile, he felt like he was drowning while they watched him from the shore.

"Shut it, Gwaine," Arthur ordered.

Merlin's feathers ruffled and he shifted anxiously from foot to foot on Percival's shoulder.

The shaggy-haired knight turned back to the victim of the hour. "Don't worry, Merlin. Whether he uses you are not, I'm sure he'll keep your cage in his chambers instead of the Mews."

A mindless terror gripped Merlin's innards at the word cage. "Trapped! Trapped! Couldn't fly! Trapped!"

"And I'm sure his new servant will clean it out everyday," Elyan joked.

"Home."

"Look, could you stop agitating him before he rips a chunk out of my shoulder?" Percival said.

"Need to go home."

"Be a good bird now, Merlin." Gwaine chided with a wag of his finger. "Don't hurt Percy and we'll give you a nice bit of bread."

"Please. Home."

"You know, you should be ashamed of yourself, Gwaine," Percival said.

His plea was weary now, hopeless. "Percival. Home. Help."

"Oh, it's just a bit of fun." Gwaine protested. "Merlin knows that, don't you mate?"

He was so tired. The bird's body he was in was frantic, rocking from side to side, wings flapping, talons worrying at something hard and cold on its perch, but in his mind things were slipping out of reach. Everything felt so far away.

"Think of how frightening it must be to be trapped like that," Percival argued.

His desire was no longer in words. His plea was only instinct now: home. Home.

"That's what the jokes are for, to distract him from thinking about it too much. So c'mon, Merlin, think about this: now that you're a bird, you won't have to go looking for a girl! You can just call one with your mating call!"

Laughing! They were ALL laughing! His mind was almost gone now, but he was still there enough to feel it. They were laughing so hard it hurt his eardrums as the sound burst in all directions, through all corners of the forest. No words came, no conscious thoughts, but feelings were still there, the intuitive awareness of emotion was there.

But the human hurt was changing - heartbroken humiliation, loneliness, anger, terror - all were dissolving and reshaping into the animal's instinctive recognition of threat, of attack.

Laughing…Laughing…LAUGHING…LAUGHING!

SCREEEEEEEEEECCHHHHHH!

The sound pierced the air, shocking them all, as an enraged flurried shape launched off of Percival's shoulder and dived straight for Gwaine's head, beak and talons foremost.

Gwaine shouted and without thought struck out with his gauntleted hand. Merlin was knocked back, partially stunned, a clump of Gwaine's hair caught in it's talons. In a frenzied panic, the still screeching bird blundered between the horses who whinnied madly and began to dance around. The air filled with the curses and orders from Arthur and his Knights as they tried to control their steeds and catch the wild bird. Elyan's horse reared and Merlin veered away sharply, only to be struck again as the head of Lancelot's horse turned roundly and knocked him hard in yet another direction. In blind retaliation, Merlin dove at Arthur's horse and pecked at its eye, causing it to rear and Arthur to fall and hit the ground with a breathless thump. With a lucky clutch, Percival managed to grab Merlin out of the air, only to lose hold when Gwaine and Elyan both rode into his horse.

Merlin, thrown into the air, rose skyward and suddenly he was overwhelmed by the exhilaration of FLIGHT! He soared higher and higher, higher than the trees, higher than the far-off hills in the distance, higher and higher as if towards the stars.

The path leading towards disaster may have taken the time of their ride, but the final break was the work of a heartbeat. Merlin felt something in his mind tear with the snap of a frayed tether and his last human thought before he was subsumed by the wild magic of the world was to laugh with pure joy at the freedom surging in his chest.

* According to the Book of St. Albans (1486), Merlouns or Marlyons were meant for Emperors and/or Ladies. A Prince would use the Falcon Gentle or the Tercel Gentle. Given the date, Arthur would not have heard of the book, but the social conventions themselves might have been around in his time.

Wow, I didn't realize this was so short. Well, hopefully more will be coming soon. Oh, and if you're wondering about the title, it comes from a song I heard on "Futurama" not to long ago.