.ii
Merlin wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but his wings seemed to be getting bigger with every passing day. It cramped terribly after a day and he had to consciously remind himself to keep them tucked tight to his back, hot and sweaty in summer, warm in the autumn days. When, one morning, even his largest shirt failed to fit over the arch of the wings, he went to Gaius.
"When did they start growing again?" asked Gaius, stretching the left wing out and measuring it with a coil of tape.
Merlin shrugged. "I don't know…the past week or so?"
Gaius' eyebrows drew together alarmingly as he frowned and pushed and prodded Merlin's shoulder blades where the wings were attached like a second pair of arms.
"In short of cutting them off…" Merlin's face blanched, but Gaius continued, "Perhaps we must resort to magical means to hide your wings. A concealment spell perhaps?"
"But that could take days!" protested Merlin, "What should I do now?"
In the end, Gaius gave him a larger jacket to wear whilst Merlin wriggled and twisted his way into his tunic which now had two large slits in the back to let his wings through. The jacket was large and bulky enough to hide the wings. It was also very hot.
"Stop moving," scolded Gaius, as he adjusted the jacket.
"It's scratchy," Merlin sulked, shifting his wings unhappily beneath the heavy fabric. Gaius sighed.
"I guess that will have to do for now. In the meanwhile, ibe careful/i. You can collect supplies for me for the next few days until we find a solution. You'll be less likely to run into trouble in the forest."
*
The griffin was a problem, Merlin thought, desperately dodging behind a tree. He heard the scrape of claws across rough bark and the angry screech of the bird-beast as it spotted him and made a lunge for its lunch. Merlin dodged again, sprinting across a clearing, making for thicker forest where the beast hopefully couldn't maneuver through so easily, leaves crunching and slipping beneath his boot-
Merlin tripped on a tree root, and he went sprawling face first into the dirt, hastily turning himself around and scrambling backwards as the beast bore down on him, eyes flashing and its sharp beak open in a shriek. He was done for. Gaius' mushrooms were going to sit in the basket to rot; Arthur was going get killed next Tuesday by some evil revenge-bent sorcerer (Camelot seemed to have these in endless supply) and Merlin was going to get eaten.
He rolled to the right but couldn't quite avoid the downwards slash of claws as the beast made a grab for him. Merlin cried out as sharp claws ripped through his jacket and shirt, drawing blood, hooking him like a fish caught and it dragged him backwardsthrough the leaves. Twisting, he shook free of his jacket and escaped the Griffin's grasp as it tore the garment to shreds before leaping back towards its prey. Merlin jumped backwards, wings spread out for balance.
"Look," he shouted desperately, wings flapping, "We're practically family! You can't eat- ahhhhh!"
Just as he screwed his eyes shut, mind casting around desperately, blankly, for a spell that would help, he heard a battle cry to his left and a figure jumped in front of him. He wielded a sword, swinging and stabbing so fast the motion was a silver blur and Merlin quickly scrambled to his feet, still backing away as his rescuer dived forwards and thrust his sword towards the beast's chest. There was a strange clashing sound, like fingernails screeching and magic flaring hot- and the metal blade shattered. The stranger and beast both paused for a split second in surprise before the man turned and Merlin had barely registered his face before the man grabbed him by the arm and they were sprinting for their lives the bird hot on their heels.
"Run, run, run!" he shouted over the screaming of the griffin, "Come on!"
Branches tore at their ankles and they leapt over a fallen tree (the stranger leapt, Merlin scrambled) and the man pushed them both down behind it. The Griffin, still moving at full velocity, the ground thundering beneath its claws –or hooves?- gave an irritated shriek before taking off over their heads, tawny wings snapping out in a rush of air. Its cries grew fainter and fainter as it became just a blotted shadow in the sky, whilst Merlin's heart still thumped triple time against his ribcage. He rubbed a hand over his face, breathing deeply and trying to come down from the rush of adrenaline and fear.
Merlin felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up.
"Are you alright?"
The man had a kind expression – that was the first thing Merlin noticed. Long dark hair and skin brown from the sun. His clothes were rough and he bore no colours Merlin could recognize- not a knight then- but he was clean shaven. Strong chiseled jaw line… Merlin shook himself mentally and blinked several times. When he failed to reply, the man held out his hand.
"I'm Lancelot," he said.
"Merlin," replied Merlin, "Thanks for-" he gestured vaguely with his hands, "-saving my life. And stuff."
The man- Lancelot- laughed. It was a loud laugh, unguarded and probably coming down from the high of a chase.
"And stuff," he agreed.
The simply sat there, staring up at the sky until their heart rates returned back to normal. The companionable silence was broken when Lancelot said casually,
"You have wings."
Merlin's eyes widened and he winched in his wings guiltily, eyes darting around the forest.
"Uh…" he made to stand up but Lancelot pushed down on his knee and he sat back down with a dejected thump.
"Don't worry," he said earnestly, "If it is your secret, I will take it to my grave."
Merlin eyed him warily, but the man ihad/I just saved his life. Merlin iwanted/i to trust him.
"Thank you," he said again, smiling widely, feeling a weight lift from his chest.
"I think they're magnificent. It is a pity you have to hide them," said Lancelot. His voice was so sincere it made Merlin blush and his ears turn red. He pulled at one of his longer feathers self consciously.
"They're a bit on the small side…" he said, doubtfully, echoing Will.
Lancelot chuckled at the expression on Merlin's face.
"Are you on your way to Camelot?" asked Merlin, changing the subject.
"Yes. The castle, actually. These woods are the fastest route. What were you doing so deep in the woods?"
Merlin waved a hand.
"Collecting stuff for Gaius. He's the court physician and I help, sometimes, like an apprentice. But I'm Arthur's manservant most of the time. And when I say 'manservant', I mean boot-cleaner."
"You live in the castle?" asked Lancelot, eyes bright with enthusiasm.
Merlin grinned.
*
When Merlin failed to show up with Arthur's clean armour, the Prince of Camelot was not Pleased. He stopped a serving girl in the corridors.
"Have you seen my useless manservant, by chance?"
The girl curtsied.
"No, sire."
Arthur humphed.
When Merlin failed to show up with Arthur's dinner, the Prince of Camelot decided enough was enough. He stormed through the castle, ready to go to Gaius' chambers drag Merlin out by the ear when, from the vantage point of one of the larger windows, he spotted a commotion by the castle gates. Unlatching the window and throwing it open, he narrowed his eyes as he spotted the bright red of a kerchief and a mop of familiar dark hair. Slamming the window back shut, Arthur made his way out of the castle.
"What's going on here?" he demanded when he reached them.
Merlin's face lit up with he saw Arthur. Arthur scowled. The guard bowed briefly.
"Sire, the boy wants to allow this man entry into the castle but no one recognizes him, sire and he is not here to petition."
It was only then that Arthur noticed the man standing behind his manservant. His manservant who was bristling indignantly at the guard's words.
"Honestly! He's a friend of mine, I don't think-"
"Precisely Merlin," interrupted Arthur smoothly, "you idon't/i think. Who is this man?"
"Lancelot. He saved my life," answered Merlin promptly, beaming at his savior in a way that made Arthur's stomach tighten with something sour. He ignored it. Merlin was being a girl, as usual.
"That," said Arthur "Is not at all out of the ordinary. You are such a useless idiot you delight in giving away the opportunity."
Merlin, as usual, was not fazed by Arthur's insults. "He fights really well," his manservant continued like the girl he was. "He," said Merlin, looking at the guard pointedly, "Is just being an annoying-"
Arthur threw up his hands, "Let them through," he said to the guard.
Merlin beamed at him and promptly keeled over.
"Merlin!"
Lancelot caught him before he hit the ground and Arthur stamped down the sudden spiral of fear that had risen in his throat and knelt down beside them. He placed a hand on Merlin's brow, frowning, then made to lift him out of his jacket but Lancelot stopped him.
"What the hell?" said Arthur incredulously, glaring at the man who still had his wrist in a firm grip, "You can't-"
He stopped when he saw the blood.
"We need to get him to Gaius," said Arthur, lifting the slashed tunic. There were two shallow wounds- slashes- running from collarbone to ribs, dried blood smeared everywhere. "What happened?" He reached out for his manservant but the man put an arm under the crook of Merlin's knees and stood, holding the boy in a bridal carry. His head lolled as they walked.
"We were attacked by a beast, sire," said Lancelot, "A griffin. Winged and vicious. It must have injured Merlin before I came."
Moments later, Arthur flung open the physician's door, startling Gaius who was at the workbench, something bubbling, curling purple and lilac smoke into the air.
"Merlin's hurt," said Arthur unnecessarily, "I don't know how much blood he's lost but-"
With nothing more than a brief, curious glance at Lancelot, Gaius said, "Put him on the cot. Over there."
"We were attacked by a winged beast- a Griffin," supplied Lancelot helpfully, "About…two hours ago now."
Arthur rounded on the man.
"How could you not notice him bleeding out in front of you?"
"I-"
Gaius interrupted them both with a sharp rap of knuckles on wood.
"Out. Both of you."
"But Merlin-"
"I'll send him to you as soon as he is able sire. Right now, I need privacy to tend to the patient."
Arthur quailed under the eyebrow arch. Maybe insubordination was contagious, he thought irritably. He glared at Lancelot instead, pinning him with a steely look.
"Right then. Send for me as soon as he wakes."
"Yes, sire," said Gaius, with a note of impatience in his tone.
Arthur couldn't believe he was being thrown out of the physicians' rooms. He couldn't believe he was getting thrown out of iany/i room, period.
"You," he said to Lancelot, "Come with me."
*
"I came to be a Knight, sire," said Lancelot, his head bowed.
Arthur regarded him for a moment.
"You fought off a Griffin, you said."
"Yes, sire."
"Well, I guess I owe you this much for saving my worthless manservant. Meet me tomorrow morning on the training grounds with your seal of nobility."
At this, Lancelot looked up.
"Seal of nobility?"
"Yes," said Arthur, mentally rolling his eyes, "The first code. Only nobility can become knights. You are a nobleman, aren't you?"
*
When Merlin woke, he was in his own bed again; a light blanket pulled up to his chin and his wings loose and unfolded. He blinked blearily, the room hazy and foggy. Turning his head, he could make out the silhouette of a figure, slumped in a seat beside his bed.
"Arthur?" he tried, voice dry and croaky with sleep. The figure jerked awake. Merlin rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, and the man came into focus. It was Lancelot.
"He was here when you were sleeping. How are you feeling?"
"Fine," said Merlin truthfully, trying to sit up. "What happened?"
"You passed out," said Lancelot, "Gaius said it was more exhaustion than blood loss. Too much excitement for one day, being nearly eaten."
Merlin flopped back onto his pillow.
"Where's Arthur? Did you get to talk to him?"
At this, Lancelot looked away.
"Yes."
"And…?" prompted Merlin, a sinking feeling in his chest.
"According to the First Code of Camelot, only those of noble birth can become Knights. I am but a peasant."
Merlin sat upright so fast his head spun.
"What? What? That's not fair!" he said, gesturing with his arms. His wings snapped out simultaneously, knocking the jug of water on his bedside cabinet. Lancelot managed to catch it before the jug shattered, placing it back on the table. Merlin looked guiltily at the puddle on the floor.
"Oops," he said, "I'm not used to moving around with them out."
Lancelot laughed softly, and leaned back in his chair. There was a pause.
"It's not fair," said Merlin once more, "I'll talk to Arthur- uh, I mean the Prince- in the morning. I'm sure I can persuade him, he's a prat most days but he's alright underneath."
"Even he can't change the codes that govern-"
"Why not?" exclaimed Merlin, then in a lower voice, "He's the prince! Top of the food chain, and everything. Well, except the King, I suppose. I'll talk to him. The prince, I mean."
"Alright," said Lancelot, "I can see you're not to be persuaded."
"No, I'm not," said Merlin, giving him a cheeky grin. "And plus-"
"Merlin," called Gaius from outside the door, "Stop talking. You need rest."
*
Having been unconscious for most of the afternoon and night, Merlin had had no time to do magical research and come up with a spell which could allow him to conceal his wings. He had to borrow another jacket from Gaius ("It's my last one. Do not get it destroyed, Merlin.") in order to serve Arthur breakfast. It turned out that he didn't need to broach the subject of Knighthood with Arthur at all.
"Why are you wearing that winter coat, Merlin?"
Merlin set the breakfast plates on the table in front of Arthur and passed him his clothes, laid out on the chair beside his bed.
"Because it's cold?" he tried.
Arthur gave him the 'you are an idiot' look.
"You're cold. Really."
"Yep," said Merlin cheerfully, pulling aside the heavy drapes with a flourish. Sunlight poured in, making Arthur wince at the brightness. Merlin smirked.
"Is that mental affliction of yours catching, do you think?" asked Arthur, reaching for the slices of ham and soft bread.
"Hmm?" said Merlin non-committally.
"Because that peasant friend of yours, Spear-a lot-"
"Lancelot," corrected Merlin, frowning.
Arthur waved a half eaten bun. "Whatever. He wanted to be a Knight. Peasants. Knights. Honestly."
Merlin's frown deepened.
"What's wrong with a peasant being a Knight?" he asked, "He's a good fighter, better than some of those recruits I've seen you train. How is that fair? Why do ithey/i get to be knights but Lancelot doesn't even get a shot? "
"iMer/ilin," said Arthur patiently, "The First Code of Camelot-"
"I know what the code says," said Merlin, "And it's bollocks."
"Be that as it may, I can't change the laws."
"Why not?" asked Merlin stubbornly, "Surely you could just let him have a chance? Let him have a fair shot at it! Once everyone sees how good he is, then you can-"
"Merlin! I understand that you are infatuated with this Lancelot," snapped Arthur, and Merlin felt his ears turn red, "but the code is the code and I cannot make exceptions. My iFather/i would never make exceptions."
"But-"
"No, Merlin. End of discussion."
Indignance bubbled hot in Merlin's chest, his lips pulled thin with anger.
"You're a royal Prat, sire," he said quietly.
Arthur sighed, and he looked as if he was going to say something but the moment stretched on into tense silence.
"Go clean out my stables. Then come to the training grounds to collect my armour after practice."
Merlin left without a word.
*
It was a simple concealment spell- well, it looked simple enough- that needed no potion or special herb. The only requirement was that it had to be cast under moonlight the hour before dawn. Merlin shivered in his thin nightshirt. He had left the coat off so he could see whether the spell worked when he cast it. The brown jacket lay, discarded on the dew wet grass a little distance away.
The moon was still bright in the sky, the first light of dawn not yet peeking over the horizon. It was the third night in a row of failed attempts and Merlin spread his wings out under the pitch sky, closing his eyes and concentrating.
He whispered the spell beneath his breath, voice growing stronger with each failed repetition.
His down feathers fluttered in the night breeze, and he could feel the magic curling up within him, tendrils curving without direction. His forehead furrowed, and he continued to chant the spell-
When dawn came, Merlin pulled the jacket back over his wings and trudged back up to the castle.
*
"I don't understand," he said for the millioneth time, turning round and round in front of a small glass mirror, his wings very very visible, "I pronounced everything correctly I'm sure of it. Why isn't the spell working?"
Gaius was bent over a large dusty tome, glasses supported by a forefinger.
"Perhaps we need to try an alternative. What about this one?"
As Merlin crossed the room to look over Gaius's shoulder, there came a soft knock on the door. Before either of them could do anything, Gwen came into the room. Merlin froze, his wings quivering behind him.
"Gwen," said Gaius nervously, "What's the matter?"
Gwen smiled at Merlin, before turning back to the physician.
"Morgana still isn't sleeping well," she said, her hands wringing in distress, "She says the potions aren't working. Don't you have anything else you could give her? She doesn't complain but she tosses and turns all night and I'm just so worried-"
"Tell Morgana I'll give her a new potion tonight," Gaius said, ushering a bewildered Gwen towards the door, "Perhaps this new remedy will work better."
"Yes- I- thank you," said Gwen and the last they see is her confused face as Gaius closes the door with a snap. Merlin is still frozen by the book. Gaius eyed Merlin with a shrewd look.
"Does Gwen know about-"
"No! Of course she doesn't!"
They both stared at Merlin's wings.
"I guess the spell worked then," said Merlin hopefully.
"Yes…" replied Gaius thoughtfully, "It seems that to those who do not know the truth cannot isee/i. But you must be careful, Merlin. If this is true, then whoever knows your secret can reveal it to the rest of Camelot."
*
In the end, Merlin finds a spell to kill the Griffin. It has already killed 5 of Arthur's knights and they decided to mount the offensive, tracking the beast to the fringe of a nearby forest, just outside of the lower city. When Merlin and Lancelot arrive, travelling a little way behind Arthur's entourage, there are bodies littered everywhere, limp and unmoving. Merlin's eyes found Arthur's golden hair immediately; a figure slumped on a slope behind a fallen tree.
"Arthur!" cried Merlin, running towards him and skidding on his knees. His fumbling hands found a pulse, beating steadily, at Arthur's throat and another quick check told Merlin there was no broken bones. Relief washed over him even as the ear splitting shriek of the Griffin pierced the silence as the beast returned.
The thud of hooves could be heard as Lancelot cantered away from the Griffin, hoisting his Lance to shoulder height. The horse reared onto its hind legs with a loud whinny and then they charged.
"iEoch bora/i," Merlin chanted, hand outstretched. "iEoch bora, Eoch bora, Eoch bora/i."
Lancelot and his steed rushed past him at a gallop, the lance held steady in the knight's hand. The Griffin shrieked once more, rushing and galloping on all fours also, the thundering of the ground making the trees around Merlin shake. Merlin
He chanted more desperately as they neared each other, neither slowing-
"iEoch bora, Eoch bora, Eoch bora!/i"
Nothing happened. The Griffin's beak opened in a terrible maw.
"No!"
Something within Merlin shifted. It was as if there was something waking up within his mind, flaring hot and filling his eyes with gold, gold, gold-
Blue fire came to life around the tip of the lance, spreading down the length as Lancelot collided with the Griffin, driving the pointed tip deep through the beast's throat. It screamed with its last breath, the magic winking out and plunging the scene into darkness once more as the griffin collapsed to the forest floor with an almighty icrash/i.
Lancelot's horse came trotting back towards Merlin, and the knight threw off his helmet, his grin mirroring the one on Merlin's face as Merlin grabbed at his own hair in hysterical relief.
"You did it!" he said, laughing uncontrollably, "Oh my god, you did it!"
"You mean, you did it."
Merlin's laughter petered out. "What?"
"Your magic. I heard you, and that blue fire- well, I know I didn't do it. And everyone else seems to be unconscious."
Merlin's face drained of all colour.
Lancelot tapped one mailed finger to his breastplate.
"Don't worry. Your secrets are safe with me."
Merlin breathed out again. He thought his heart might burst soon under all the stress and threat of execution. But for now, life was on his side. A groan came through the air, and Arthur struggled to sit up. Merlin rushed to his side, veins still thrumming with magic. For a moment, he thought Arthur might have overheard the entire exchange- but one look at his blown pupils told Merlin he was at the very least, slightly concussed.
"Merlin?" said the prince, his voice slurring slighting, "Why are you glowing?" then passed out again, a dead weight in Merlin's arms.
*
A/N: Okay. Firstly, I realise that the spell I used isn't the spell that Merlin used but right now, I can't find that that spell *is* - google and merlin wiki have not been helpful- so I used this one instead, which Merlin uses in the Nimueh episode. I think. Also, I know it's a rather strange place to end, but otherwise, you'll never get updates. I'm trying to get as much of this written as possible in the next two weeks before my life gets hectic, yeah? :P This is completely unedited, so point out any typos or weird bitts- apologies for the bad writing. Very rusty.
Please comment. Crit is improvement. :D