Alright everyone, if you haven't heard the news, it was announced this evening that season 5 will be the final season of Merlin.
Despite my rant in the last chapter, I am not as upset as I thought I would be at hearing this news. Not that it makes much sense to me... the show (as far as I know) has quite a following in both the UK and America, so it doesn't make much sense to finish the show. If the writers were the ones pulling the plug, it would make more sense as it would signal the completion of their story. But from what I understand it was the producers that did it. I guess they have a fear of fame and money. *shrug*
There are three reasons I am uploading this chapter so soon after the last one.
1. To ease the pain of having our beloved Merlin taken from us before his time (though to be honest, ten years of programming from now would be before his time in the fans' eyes, I think lol)
2. Because I had it written.
3. Because Mediatrix and flyaway213 took the time to reassure me when my doubts about the show reared their ugly heads.
I've always known that there was no guarantee that the show would be granted a sixth season. I would have liked for them to do the first episode with the reveal in it and then spend the rest of the season focusing on the changes and challenges that come with that revelation, but at this point, I will be happy if we get one or two episodes post-reveal. Just a few episodes to get a feel for Camelot's (and especially Arthur's) reactions.
Also, before I get to the story, I need to do a little disclaimer here. *Ahem*
At work one day last week, I emailed my friend Tom about my writing. According to Geoffrey of Monmouth's History of British Kings, Arthur lived in the 6th century. So I asked Tom to help me come up with some common activities that people in the 6th century did... you know, aside from killing each other over land and trying to avoid the plague. What you see here is the result of his help! :D
Reviewer Responses
WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: Lol, you have seen all of them... DUN DUN DUNNNNN
Mediatrix: Yeah, the bromance has been quite legendary. I guess I was just fuming. Lol And part of the reason that we haven't gotten as much banter is because Merlin is a lot more somber here. The story is getting darker, and Merlin's outlook is matching.
flyaway213: Yeah, it hurts to see Gwen all chummy with Morgana. Not simply because we know that Gwen is being twisted, but because at one time, the friendship between them was absolutely adorable. I loved how much they cared for one another. Morgana's transformation into the evil priestess she became was so heartwrenching for me because I loved how sweet she was before the change.
CaptainOzone: I'm surprised Arthur doesn't have a normal insult for how skinny Merlin is. Lol. The bromance! So much bromance it blinds meh! And I really like writing the thoughtful Arthur. I think that is the side of him that Merlin sees becoming such a great king.
1983Sarah: Oh... a lot is up with them. XD
EchoRose480: Awww, really?! *Squee/blush* Thank you!
shadow visor: You did indeed get it right. Nice! :)
servant123: Pump it! *dances*
I don't own Merlin, and here we go!
The idea of going hunting with Arthur was unappealing as it was- there were few things among Merlin's duties that he detested more than hunting- but now he was to spend the entire day with the druid. Perhaps this was an opportunity to learn more about him. Perhaps the difference in the southern tribes was what was grating on his senses. Or perhaps, this was a chance to further understand Dayla's warning. Once his and Arthur's horses had been prepared, and a tall black mare had been selected as the extra horse, Merlin jogged over to the training field and met a rather unusual sight.
Arthur and Morven were standing in the middle of the field on their own (Morven having left his cape and, consequently the gem, elsewhere to Merlin's relief), a rather large leather sack sitting on the ground between them and a pair of heavy gloves in Arthur's hand. Morven's right arm was extended and perched upon a thick piece of animal hide tied to his forearm was a magnificent bird. Merlin couldn't help the smile that came over his face, his concern about Morven shoved to the back of his mind. The creature was beautiful. Vibrant brown, beige, and white feathers covered its back and face and it's eyes were large and black, surveying everything. But the minute Merlin came within its sight, the eyes snapped to him and stared steadily at him. It straightened up as it looked at him, showing off a long neck and a regal posture, with long feathers above its eyes taking on the subtle look of a crown. Its legs were thick and stocky with large talons covered partially by soft feathers.
"Merlin, meet Free… uh.. Frio Nem..." Arthur chuckled sheepishly as he struggled with the name. He looked to Morven.
"Her name is Frio Niman," said Morven, looking to Merlin. "In the language of the druids, it means 'to bring peace'."
Arthur smiled warmly. Merlin couldn't take his eyes off the bird. "The druids have been hunting with hawks for generations. Morven has graciously offered to teach us how to do the same," announced Arthur.
The idea appealed to the warlock. It was one thing when the hunters were armed with swords and bows and arrows, and another when the hunters' weapons were not so different from the preys'. At least that was what Merlin attempted to convince himself. He still hated the cries of the animals they killed. Some part of his magic bubbled and ached at the deaths.
Morven ran a hand along the bird's back. "Hawking (1) is a pastime among my people, and a way of life for some of them. In my family, a baby hawk is given to the children when they reach the age of fifteen, and the bird becomes their partner. We train them, feed them, play with them, and even sleep with them." He pulled a small sliver of meat from a bag at his hip and held it to the bird's face. Frio stared intently at it for a moment and then snatched it from Morven's fingers. The bird bent down and caught the meat between her talons and the arm guard and began to rip smaller pieces off until it was gone. Arthur watched with fascination, and despite Merlin's aversion to hunting and to meat, he did as well. Once her snack had been eaten, the bird straightened, ruffled her feathers and looked again toward Merlin, seemingly transfixed. "I have brought Frio here to serve as a gift of good will from my people."
Arthur looked at the mighty animal and stepped back a little. "Morven, I could hardly deprive you of your companion."
Morven chuckled. "Oh, Frio is not my partner, Sire." He faced the castle and gave a whistle that made Merlin wince. From around one of the towers a black dot shot with a speed that matched nothing Merlin had ever seen. Morven extended his other arm- also encircled with a thick slab of hide- and the bird came to a graceful landing on it. The hawk stood more than two feet high, its wingspan as large as Merlin was tall. He was stocky with wide-set legs and every inch of him radiated power. His healthy feathers shone in the sunlight and each one was coal black and tipped with white. "This is my partner. His name is Colsweart." He smiled sheepishly. "It is not a very original name. In the language of my people, it simply means black."
Arthur smiled and Morven shook his arm a little. Colsweart flew away to land on the weapons rack and Merlin swore he could see a glare being directed at Frio. From his face, Merlin could tell Arthur noticed it too. Morven chuckled again. "He is a jealous animal, Colsweart," he said, bending down to rummage through the sack that sat at his feet. "He dislikes it when another hawk is on my arm."
Arthur laughed and Morven straightened to offer a thick length of hide to the king. "You will need this," he said.
Arthur smiled broadly, but before he could take it, Merlin stepped forward and took the hide. "Allow me, Sire," he said, not bothering to hide his own grin. Morven provided him with a thick leather string and Merlin strapped the sheet around Arthur's muscled forearm. Morven dug into his bag again and produced a small sack attached to a belt like the one he wore. Merlin barely had to smell it to know it was filled with raw meat. Merlin carefully strapped it around Arthur's waist (ignoring the weight joke that popped into his head).
"You will want to wear your gloves at first, your majesty," said Morven, motioning to the gloves Arthur had brought. "The beak of a hawk is sharp and until you feel comfortable, you will want to protect your fingers." The druid held up his hand as though to demonstrate. Morven's fingers were mottled and crisscrossed with scars, some of which looked like they had gone all the way to the bone. Arthur's face fell a bit. "They do not do it purposefully, my liege," he assured the king.
Arthur quickly put on his gloves, apparently eager to hold the bird for the first time. Morven made a series of clicks with his tongue and Frio finally took her eyes from Merlin to look at the druid. With little hesitation, the bird opened its large wings and hopped over to Arthur's arm. The king wobbled a little and the bird kept her wings spread as she leveled out. Though the bird weighed no more than two pounds, Arthur felt very off balance. "I never imagined a bird could be so heavy," he said. Only Merlin was able to tell that the king was somewhat breathless.
Colsweart gave a few coos and without any noise from Morven he launched off the weapons rack and perched again on his arm. He ruffled his feathers and to Merlin it seemed as though he were attempting to look as beautiful as possible. Morven smiled and ran his hand along his back and he cooed happily.
Arthur didn't seem to be faring as well. Frio continuously fidgeted, her black eyes trained on Merlin. She flapped her wings and squeaked occasionally. The king was having trouble keeping his balance with the hawk bouncing around as she was. Morven smiled at first, but then frowned a little. "I apologize, my lord! Frio Niman has been trained by many different people and has not bonded with anyone as of yet. I can't imagine why she is so anxious."
Finally, after almost toppling Arthur over, Frio took flight, aiming for Merlin. The warlock didn't feel frightened of the creature, merely startled by the sudden movement and his arms instinctively came up as the bird drew closer. Frio gently lowered herself onto one of them. Merlin slowly straightened and held his arm out to the side, Frio hopping a little as his arm turned. The servant had to wince as the bird's sharp talons sliced easily through the fabric of his jacket and began to poke at the skin underneath. Merlin was so awestruck by the creature that he didn't particularly care. The hawk's large back eyes fixed on him again and she cooed. Merlin gave a broad grin and looked to Morven and Arthur; the former holding an expression of confusion and the latter's eyes filled with annoyance.
"Merlin, what are you doing?" Arthur demanded.
Merlin shrugged. "I didn't do anything, Sire." The warlock had to admit that he felt a small amount of glee at the irritation on Arthur's face.
Arthur looked to Morven for an explanation. Merlin could tell the king was not trying to be accusatory, as they were here for peace talks, but having the animal he was meant to be training suddenly fly off in favor of the servant had wounded his pride to some degree. Morven could see the question in Arthur's face even before the king motioned to Merlin. "Hawks can be fickle creatures, Sire." He motioned to the sack on Arthur's belt. "Try offering her some food," he suggested. "The desire for food is the basis for bonding a hawk to its trainer."
Arthur dug into the small sack and produced a small strip of meat. Frio's eyes detached from Merlin to stare at the meat with a glitter in her eye, but she would not forsake Merlin's arm. She extended her legs and bent forward nearly at a ninety-degree angle, her wings outstretched; reaching for the meat held in Arthur's hand, her claws digging further into Merlin's arm and drawing blood. Finally, the warlock winced and yelped quietly. Arthur looked down, spotting the patch of his sleeve that was beginning to turn dark from the liquid.
"Merlin, what are you doing?" He looked at Morven. "Call him to you, Morven. She's about to take the moron's arm off." Morven looked slightly mortified at the request, but when Arthur smiled at him, he seemed to relax. He let out another series of clicks and Frio reluctantly launched off of Merlin's arm and landed on Morven's free one. Colsweart hunched down and glared at Frio again.
Merlin let out a breath the instant the bird left his arm. He clutched it to his stomach for a moment before Arthur grabbed his wrist and pulled back the jacket to reveal a row of six rather deep punctures on the servant's forearm. "You really are an idiot, Merlin. Go get patched up." He pointed at the castle and Merlin begrudgingly headed off the field. Arthur suddenly turned and called, "And tell Gaius that Edlyn has requested a draft to help with the aches from her long journey!" Merlin nodded and jogged off to Gaius' chambers.
As Merlin left, Arthur sighed and turned back to Morven. "I apologize for my servant. Whether or not I myself succeed at training Frio Niman, I am honored by your gift." Arthur placed a hand on his heart and bowed his head a little to Morven.
Morven nodded back. "She seems to like your servant quite a bit," he chuckled.
Arthur shrugged. "He's always seemed to have an affinity for animals. The horses like him and he hates hunting. Feels sorry for the prey I suppose."
Morven clicked at Frio again and the bird hopped over to Arthur's arm which only just rose in time. "I am sure she will warm to you in time," said Morven. Arthur nodded at him and offered the earlier piece of meat to Frio. She took it and tore at it happily. "Hawks raised by my tribe are highly intelligent, Sire. They can sense a kind soul."
Arthur smiled at Morven. "What, I don't have a kind soul?" he joked.
Morven chuckled. "If you didn't have a kind soul, Arthur Pendragon, no number of clicks or commands could have convinced Frio Niman to perch on your arm."
Another hour passed before Merlin was ready to leave for the hunt, his arm bandaged and the bleeding stemmed. He got the horses from the stables and headed to meet the king and Morven in the courtyard. Colsweart walking along behind Morven with his head tucked between his wings and glaring daggers at Frio Niman who was held on the man's left arm. The instant the servant turned the corner, Frio lunged away from her perch. The man held a powerful hold on one of her feet, and she wound up dangling beneath his hand cooing at him with agitation. The horses whinnied and fidgeted at the sight of the large flapping thing and the black mare even reared back a little. A stable hand dashed over to take the reins of two of them and attempted to calm them as Arthur jogged over to take his horse from Merlin.
"She really likes you, it seems," said Arthur, patting his stallion's neck. "Can't imagine why."
"She sees my true value," answered Merlin, puffing out his chest.
Arthur laughed and punched Merlin in the side gently. The servant doubled over and looked up to his king with a smile on his face. "I think it's because you look a little like a bird." He pointed at Merlin's nose and then motioned to the man's high cheekbones. "Maybe like a chicken… probably wants to eat you."
Merlin stood straight and crossed his arms. "Maybe she just doesn't like cabbage."
Arthur took a swing at him, but Merlin jogged out of the way and toward Morven, who had finally managed to get Frio upright again. She cooed at Merlin happily.
"She'll apparently have no other today, Merlin," he laughed. He bobbed his head at the large sack behind his feet. "Grab some hide from the bag. We'll not have you bleeding again."
Morven clicked at Frio and she begrudgingly lifted gently off of the hide covered arm and floated gently down to the ground where Colsweart continued his glare at her. With both hands freed, Morven tied the leather strings around Merlin's thin arm. Merlin found himself glad that the druid had not worn his cape as the effects of the gem- whatever it was- were bad enough when there was some distance between them. He wasn't sure he wanted it this close to him.
Even with that presence still leaning on his senses he couldn't help but smile at Morven. There was something gentle about the man- he sort of reminded him of Balinor. His eyes were old and filled with experience and the way he handled the birds infected Merlin with a warmth he hadn't expected.
Once the guard had been secured to Merlin's arm, Frio wasted no time in hopping onto it. She looked at him, cocking her head to one side, before moving to rub her head against his temple and coo softly. Merlin had to stop a rather unmanly giggle from leaving his mouth. The affection was short-lived as Frio seemed to find something else to look at, but her feathers tickled and her coo was adorable.
Arthur was already on his brown stallion as Morven finished strapping the sack of meat to Merlin's hip. He came up behind his servant and thwacked him across the back of his head with a glove he had removed. "Stop playing with the bird and mount up, Merlin, we're ready to leave."
Merlin looked around to where Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, and Leon were already settled on their horses and were watching him with amusement. Morven stood and clicked at Colsweart who followed him as he heaved himself into the saddle. Merlin quickly joined them and the group set off at a canter, the two birds flying behind them.
The woods were very quiet for midday. Merlin could still feel the magic in the air trembling as it continued to brace itself for something. He attempted to pay it no mind and simply focused on the conversation around him and on Frio who occasionally swooped down to land on his arm, squeak a few times, and take off again.
"It's like she's reporting to you, Merlin," laughed Leon.
"You've finally found someone to command, Merlin," teased Arthur. "God knows you can barely command your own feet most of the time."
"I'm sorry," scoffed Merlin. "Who was it that she fled from?"
There were a few coos among the knights at the banter followed by some subdued chuckles.
Arthur pursed his lips and smiled. "She wasn't fleeing from me, Merlin. She's just drawn to you because she thinks you're a meal. Or perhaps a girl."
Frio swooped in and landed on Merlin's arm again, completely oblivious to the conversation and looked around proudly from her perch. As though to proclaim something, she gave a loud cry and took off again, circling with Colsweart. The black bird seemed to have forsaken his previous animosity for Frio.
"Oh, so you think that Morven's a girl as well?" suggested Merlin.
The druid was riding slightly behind Arthur and was listening to the banter with a slight smile, but he tried to look disconnected when his name was mentioned.
"Of course not. He's been training with Colsweart for many years. The two of them seem like family, the way they communicate."
Merlin had to consent that to the king. The way Morven and Colsweart moved about each other was impressive, as though all one had to do was think and the other would respond. The clicks seemed almost to be an afterthought.
"He has a point there Merlin," laughed Percival.
Merlin shook his head and turned his eyes skyward, watching as the hawks dipped and rose in the sky. "Nah. He's just jealous."
"Why would anyone be jealous of you?" asked Arthur.
Merlin ignored the continuing conversation as he stared at Frio, finding himself getting lost in the way she moved through the air. And then something happened that he couldn't quite explain. It was as though information was shoved into his mind, unbidden. He suddenly knew something he hadn't before; something he could picture and nearly see. He pulled his horse to a stop and was a bit surprised when Frio swooped in to land on his arm.
The knights behind him stopped as well and it took a few paces for Arthur and Morven to catch on and stop as well. All eyes turned to Merlin, who was staring intently at a thick grove of bushes several yards away from the roadside. It was difficult not to also notice the position of Frio Niman on Merlin's arm. The bird almost matched the slant of Merlin's body as he leaned and squinted in his saddle. Her wings were spread and her legs tensed, her beak open but no sound emerging.
"Merlin, what on earth are you doing?" Arthur demanded, turning his stallion round and looking at him. The horse danced impatiently beneath him.
"There's a hare in that bush there," said Merlin quietly, not really minding that it sounded a little odd.
The knights, the king, and even Morven turned a little to look at the bush but saw no movement or sign that any life was within it. They looked at Merlin and Frio, who had not moved, with raised eyebrows.
Without warning, a black bolt shot into the brush and a small cry was heard. Colsweart emerged from the bushes, hauling up a decent sized hare. He flew it to Morven and presented it proudly to his master. Morven smiled and rewarded the bird with a slice of meat.
Frio closed her wings and shuffled a little on Merlin's arm before cooing and looking expectantly at him. The warlock consented and handed her a slice of meat as well. Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"You get stranger every day, Merlin," said Arthur. "How on earth did you know that was there?"
Merlin straightened a little in his saddle and puffed his chest out. "I guess I'm getting good at hunting."
"Yeah," laughed Arthur, turning his horse back down the path. "That'll be the day."
The singular hare was the only thing caught on the hunting trip. After a few hours passed with no game, the trip had turned into a simple ride through some of the trails as Arthur and Morven got to know one another. Arthur shared several traditions of Camelot, bragging about their jousting events and tourneys. Morven spoke fondly of his tribe. The druids in the south were very dedicated to the training and breeding of these magnificent creatures not only as a way to feed themselves, but also as a way of life. Merlin could easily tell that there was a spiritual relationship between the birds and their masters, beyond the symbiotic relationship that was easy to see. The two formed a single entity to the point that one could almost not exist without the other.
"How long do they live?" asked Arthur, looking at Colsweart who had settled down between Morven's legs and the horse's neck.
Morven idly stroked Colsweart's head as he spoke. "Few see more than 20 winters. This will be Colsweart's twelfth," he added with a smile. He looked to the sky and caught a glimpse of Frio as she dove in between the trees. "Frio Niman has only just reached adulthood. This will be her second."
"She certainly seems to have more energy than Colsweart," remarked Gwaine, his eyes also sweeping the trees for the younger bird.
"What happens when they die?" asked Merlin quietly. Arthur resisted the urge to slap the servant for his tactless question, but Morven smiled sadly and stroked Colsweart again.
"There is a tradition in my village. When one of our partners dies or is killed, its trainer must spend five years in mourning before he is permitted to bond with another bird. He will learn to cook and care for the village until he is ready to hunt again." He looked to Merlin. "Each bird is given a ceremony and a proper burial, as a symbol to the passing of time." He reached down the top of his tunic and produced a black string. Tied into the necklace was a large bird's talon. "A talon is taken from the fallen bird and we wear it to honor their memory. This is from my partner of many years, Atglaem."
'Beauty'. Merlin smiled the thought of the name. How could he have possibly thought that a man with that much warmth in his voice could mean harm upon Camelot?
"You were saying 'he'," noticed Arthur. "Is Hawking only for men, then? Is that why Edlyn hasn't joined us?"
Morven's face took on a strange tension when his sister's name came up but he forced a smile. "Oh no. We have many great women hunters. Edlyn just doesn't get along with the birds is all."
Merlin couldn't help but suspect that was hardly the entire story.
The sun was just setting when the group returned to Camelot. As Merlin dismounted, Frio hopped along behind him on her talons, drawing the stares of several of the nobles in the courtyard. It amused the warlock. She followed him around as he cleaned and hung the saddles and then watered and fed the horses. As he turned to leave he found Morven heading into the stables with Colsweart perched on a device attached to his shoulder. The item was strapped tightly to Morven's chest like a voider, and it was made out of hide. The shape was akin to a long thin saddle so that Colsweart's feet could wrap firmly around it.
"Can I help you with something?" he asked.
Morven shook his head. "No, but if it is alright with you, I would like to have Colsweart sleep on the roof of the stables. The hay up there should provide comfortable bedding, and it will keep him from frightening the horses."
Merlin nodded with a smile. "Of course." He opened his mouth to say more when he suddenly felt weight come down on his head. He dared not move it once he felt talons come gently down to rest on his brow. Frio was balancing on the crown of Merlin's head, and she was obviously paying attention to where she put her sharp talons. A hand flew up to cover Morven's mouth, but Merlin could see him struggling not to laugh at the sight.
"That's strange," he finally said.
"Just a little," offered Merlin. He held out his arm and Frio hopped down onto it. "I have no idea what to say to that." Morven shrugged. "So how do I get her onto the roof to sleep?"
Morven offered an arm. "I can take her up there."
Before he could click at her, Frio turned her eyes to Merlin and took flight from his arm and out the stable doors. When Morven and Merlin found her, she had begun to nestle into a small pile of the hay which covered the top of the stone building.
Merlin looked to the druid. "How'd she know to go up there?"
Morven stared at the warlock like he had sprouted an extra head. "I'm not sure."
Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, Merlin retreated to his quarters to find Gaius reading at Dayla's bedside. "I heard you had an interesting day," chuckled Gaius.
"You heard about the birds?" Merlin asked, a smile on his face.
Gaius returned the smile, feeling as though he could breathe a little better. He hadn't seen a genuine smile on Merlin for at least a week. It was nice to know that the bird had cheered him up this much. "I did, and you can tell me all about it once you've run an errand for me." He stood and grabbed a small bottle of yellow-ish liquid from the table. "I need you to take this to Edlyn's chambers. It will help with the aching from her journey."
Merlin nodded and jogged off to his task. The hallways were mostly empty as the palace wound down for the day, pulling curtains shut, retreating to quarters, heading for home, or in Arthur's case retreating to the library. Merlin headed to the guest rooms and rapped on the large door which lead into the temporary room of Edlyn and Morven. Edlyn answered almost immediately and smiled kindly at him.
Merlin extended the potion to her. "This is from the court physician. This should help with the aches you've been feeling."
She took it and nodded at him. "Thank you. It is very kind. I am not used to such long trips on horseback," she said with a small wince.
Merlin laughed. "I know that feeling," he said, rubbing his back a little.
"Please give the physician my gratitude... uhh..." She motioned to him to provide his name.
Merlin paused. Did she not know who he was? Merlin was far from indignant or outraged that the woman didn't seem to recognize him, but he found it strange. Finally, he managed to answer. "Merlin."
She smiled again. "Merlin," she finished. "You share the name with a falcon trained by my village." Merlin didn't answer, his suspicion piqued, but he tried to look interested. "They are small, but fast and powerful. A lovely name."
Merlin thanked her and quickly excused himself. Why had Edlyn not recognized him as Emrys?
~ooOoo~
Under the light of a small lamp, Arthur strained his eyes to see the passage that Geoffrey helped him translate.
And Taliesin said, 'They shall turn to wicked ways, forsaking the ancient laws and customs. For this deed their vision shall be taken and they shall not know him. For even if they look into his eyes, they shall not know that Emrys stands before them.'
1: I know that the term for this kind of sport is called falconry, but apparently in old England, it was referred to as Hawking.
I've been having way too much fun researching falconry for this story. And to any of you who know falconry or birds in general, I am well aware that the relationship between a bird and its falconer doesn't really go deeper than food. The bird is not a friend to the falconer. In this story, I made them more intelligent along the lines of a cat or a dog.
Raised by druids.
Magik
Alright, I'll hopefully see you soon!