Author's Note: Okay, this randomly came to me as a short oneshot. Its a bit bitty and sorry if it doesnt make much sense. I knew what I wanted to say in my head. I just enjoyed viewing our fav prince and magician like this for some reason.
The Bear and The Falcon
He is like the falcon that shares his name: quick, agile, clever. The bird that sees all but says very little as it soars unnoticed, observing the world around it. Its eyes are sharp, bright and accurate viewing everything in black and white: right and wrong. He too, sees the world like this, detailed but obvious.
His friend is the bear that he was named after, artos: muscular, strong and brave. He fights for his territory, his family and friends. The beast's voice, loud, bold and commanding – he shares. They are the deadliest hunters to roam the woods. He is the protector, caring for his people, feeding them, defending them.
Together they are the dragon that unites the lands. The creature that advises the farmer on the harvests; trains the armies; offers his wise words of counsel to those who seek it; feeds the poor; aids the sick and old; brings justice upon the lawbreakers and champions all his people. Apart, they are broken. Together, they are complete.
Between his long fingers he rolled the object, feeling the smooth texture of the material against his pads that had been roughened with fighting. He touched the intricate details carved painstakingly into the wood. Tracing the lines that created the picture he now held before him.
His left hand tentatively stroked a breast of feathers, a curled paw, a rounded wing, exploring the contours that made up the ornament. For a moment it caressed the bejewelled back of one of the figures and then flitted on to the delicate golden leaf plating a chest. It was so beautiful he could barely tear his eyes away. There was too much to observe.
He had no idea where this stunning carving had come from but he assumed it was a gift to him. It had been left in his bed chamber, on his table, just sitting there catching the light seeping through a window so it glittered like a winking star.
The meaning was a mystery. The three statues were unusual to say the least. The first was a bear, rearing on its hind legs; the second, a dragon that sat in the middle with its head held high and the final figure was a wonderfully detailed bird – at a guess he would say a falcon – that cast an intelligent eye on the rest, its wings just spreading as it readied for flight. As he pondered the creatures the door to his bedroom burst open.
"My lord," a voice gasped, "I've just seen some villagers being attacked by a pack of bandits on the road just south of the castle. I don't think anyone else has noticed. Shall we go?"
"Observant as usual, Merlin. Of course we must help them. We must move quickly. A Prince must protect his people."
"I have your horse ready, Arthur."
"Then we shall be there within seconds."
The bear and the falcon left the room, flying through the castle faster than a dragon.
