Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Merlin or any of its characters, unfortunately. If I did I'd be ridiculously happy!
This story came to me whilst reading The Crystal Cave by Mary Stewart. I liked her ideas.
Azure was the best way to describe the sky; a crisp, sharp outline surrounding the slate grey mountains, emphasising their snow-crested peaks. Sprawling at their foot were pastures so green and luscious they didn't seem real as they merged seamlessly with a forest of evergreen trees. This was nature at its best. There was little interference from man and therefore it was perfect.
A little farther than the forest was a river that had started out as a stream in the depths of the ragged mountains but had widened the further into the lowland it went. The flowing water was lined on one side with a towering cliff face of limestone and the other, a beach scattered with shingles. The endless current of water twisted sinuously between the rolling hills and away.
The focus of this story, however, was at the river's edge where two boys were standing: one skimming stones, a scowl on his face, the other watching disinterestedly. Both carried out their activities in complete silence until:
"I told you we should have gone the other way," the dark-haired boy, observed, somewhat amused.
"You tell me now," was the gruff retort.
"No, I told you then but you ignored me. What exactly did you say again? Oh yeah, 'Shut up, Merlin, I know where we are going.'" His imitation was pitch perfect – uncanny.
"I was sure this was the way to the beach." The boy threw a smooth pebble with all his might, jaw jutted in irritation.
"Well, obviously its not so can we go back now?" Merlin's eyebrows rose in question.
"I guess."
"All right then, let's go."
The younger boy ran a tired hand through his black hair, leaving it in complete disarray. He didn't care; he was past caring. They had trekked all day to get to this so called fabulous beach and then had ended up on the wrong side of the river. Merlin wasn't sure what Arthur had meant by seeing what he meant when they got there but he was sure he hadn't meant it literally. Now he could tell the young prince was in a mood.
Picking up his bag and Arthur's, Merlin swung both on his back and began tramping up the bank.
"Oh, Merlin, I'm not walking all the way round again, it would be so much quicker just to climb the cliff. It's not big so it wouldn't be too hard."
The servant boy turned round to face his master, an incredulous expression contorting his features. He had the look of 'are you serious' in his eyes. Arthur could tell when he was trying to bite back a scathing comment because his abnormally large ears twitched with frustration. That's what always happened. Still, whatever Merlin thought, Arthur wasn't going to change his mind.
"I'm really, really, hoping you are joking," the youth said.
"I'm not. Come on." Arthur offered the stunned boy a dazzling grin and set off at a run towards the steep cliff. The closer he got the more vertical it became and Arthur considered the fact that he may have bitten off more than he could chew; he wasn't going to admit that to Merlin though. As he decided on the best place to begin his ascent, Arthur felt a warm presence by his right shoulder and knew his servant had joined him. There wasn't much else he could do; Merlin was bound to him both as a body guard and as a friend.
Getting a firm grip on the craggy face Arthur began to climb. Merlin shook his head, he could tell this a bad idea; in fact he could feel it within his bones that the only way this little detour could end was disastrously. Nonetheless, he was destined to be with Arthur and if that meant risking his neck to keep the idiotic prince safe he would do it. They were two halves of a coin after all.
The pair were half way up when things began to take a turn for the worse. Arthur wasn't bad at climbing but even he could see that the rock was getting past the point of being vertical, it was slanting, and becoming increasingly impossible to find a hand holds on. He was contemplating the idea of admitting his wrongness to his servant when his fingers slipped from the ledge they had been gripping and he fell…
But Merlin was there to catch him. Somehow the seemingly weedy servant boy mustered enough strength to hold onto the wall with one hand and support Arthur with the other. How long he could maintain such a precarious position, however, was an entirely different problem.
"Grab something Arthur! I can't take your weight!" Merlin grunted his voice strained with effort. It felt like his shoulder was breaking. He wondered whether there was some spell he could use to help the situation but nothing came to mind.
"I'm trying!" Arthur snapped back, he was suddenly having flashbacks of hanging off a cave wall whilst being chased by giant spiders; it was not aiding his plight. Finally, his floundering arm managed to grip a rocky outcrop and once again the prince could support himself. He paused to regain his breath.
"Merlin! Thanks! I-Merlin?" The young man was aware of complete and utter silence – it was disturbing. Why wasn't his servant speaking? He thought the boy would've already come up with some sarcastic, totally inappropriate comment by now. Craning his neck, Arthur looked down. Merlin had vanished.
Merlin had no idea where he was. He just remembered how he had lost his grip and then the sensation of falling through space. His stomach turned at the memory. But then he had appeared here….on this ledge. Peering down he saw just how high up he was and a wave of vertigo washed over him; the ground looked so far away. Still, by the looks of things he was still on the same cliff face but in a completely different area. So how had he got here? Magic? Had he unconsciously used some kind of spell to save himself? But where was Arthur?
The young magician shifted slightly on the narrow ledge and froze, beneath where he had been about to put his left hand was a nest. A bird's nest. And sitting in the nest were four rust-brown coloured eggs. They were small in size but perfectly formed. The boy stared. He recognised the type. These were the un-hatched offspring of a Falco columbarius. Or, in more understandable terms….a merlin. This species of bird was not particularly common but was most often seen in captivity, in falconry displays. Merlin had never seen a merlin in the wild let alone their nesting place. Then again, he barely ever climbed cliffs in the middle of nowhere.
He wondered where the mother of these chicks was, usually the female merlin remained whilst the male hunted for her but this nest was deserted. The boy was reluctant to touch the eggs but he just had to see whether they were still warm. With a delicate touch of the tip of his finger he determined they were. They couldn't have been left for long.
Well, he thought, he better leave them be, it was nothing to do with him. Instead, he should really think of a way to get down from here. In fact, if his ears were not deceiving him, he could hear frantic yelling above his head.
"Merlin? Merlin! Where the hell are you? Merlin!"
Twisting awkwardly, Merlin looked up. "Down here!" He shouted and then the bird attacked.
But it wasn't a merlin and it wasn't attacking him though the wild falcons were well known for their aggressiveness. The bird was huge and black and ugly looking. Its massive talons made straight for the unguarded nest by his side crushing the eggs.
"Hey!" Merlin yelped, waving his arms at the ferocious creature. "Get away! Shoo! Get away you beast!" The corvid, for that was its name, flapped its great wings, cawing loudly. Obviously it hadn't expected anything to challenge it. With an evil glare from its beady black eyes the bird turned tail and fled. Merlin scanned the ravished nest. It was all but demolished, obliterated by the intruder. Twigs and feathers floated gently over the edge of the ledge, whipped up by the gentle breeze whilst shards of shell remained in the devastation.
It saddened the boy greatly that those four unborn chicks would never be hatched but there was nothing he could have done. Then he noticed the last egg. It had slipped onto the hard rock and miraculously hadn't cracked. It had survived. He carefully reached down and scooped the tiny egg up. Warmth seeped into his palm.
"Merlin! Is that you?" The voice was much closer this time and as Merlin looked up he saw Arthur's somewhat distressed face peering down at him. Fortunately he wasn't too far up so the cliff top couldn't be far away. "Well come on, don't just sit there you, idiot, climb up!"
Merlin slipped the merlin egg into his bag, padding it out with his jerkin so it wouldn't break. Then he slowly levered himself to his feet, gripping the rock tightly, before making his ascent. Arthur hauled him over the edge when he reached the end of his climb.
"How on earth did you get there?!" the prince demanded as soon as he had clambered to his feet.
"Um…I fell?" Merlin suggested. He carefully removed the unborn merlin from his bag and clutched it carefully in his palm.
"What is that?"
"A bird's egg," Merlin raised his eyebrows.
"Great, so while I've been worried sick…" Arthur paused and corrected himself, "…worried, you've been bird watching! I sometimes wonder about you, Merlin."
"This is a merlin."
"Sure it is, and that rock's called Arthur. Let's go." The young man grabbed his friend's arm and marched off.
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