Merlin Oneshots

The Winged Warlock

It was no secret nobles had wings. Massive, gorgeous, majestic wings. It was always quite the sight to see the fledglings gaining their flight feathers, just barely coming off the ground. It was always a show to see the immature royals performing daredevil stunts to show off their wings. It was glorious to see them unfurl with an array of colors on their twentieth nameday. The colors changed with Destiny's will and by coincidence of family crests.

Uther Pendragon had a fiery set of wings, from his allulas down to the tips it was pure red, later they were considered blood red. The same color as the blood of the innocents he slaughtered.

It was said Yggraine had truly gorgeous wings. The allulas were a beautiful sky blue that faded into white. The definition of innocence.

Morgana Pendragom had wings that showed her true nature, a beauty hiding a storm. Her wings were black with a smattering of dark turquoise feather, so dark they were also almost black. However, hers too were truly beautiful.

Morgause le Fay had garish wings, they attracted attention and fear. Hers were pitch black with only two grey feathers on the very ends of the wings. But that was not the hideous aspect, she refused to preen or care for them, and slowly the feathers rotted off the wings.

Arthur Pendragon, The Once and Future King. His wings has the fire of Uther but the innocence of Yggraine's. The allula were a fiery red that shifted into the gold of the Camelot crest and finally into a pure white. His wings were stunning, even Morgana as much as she loved hers was jealous.

Then, unbeknownst to them all, hid Merlin. His wings and markings constantly in the shadows through rigorous, habitual spellwork and concentration, no one knew, and then everyone did.

It was another average day in Camelot, the birds were chirping, Gwaine was drinking, and the bandits were hunting the hunters.

A simple mage knocked out the knights, Arthur, and Merlin. The group of rogue bandits beagn looting their travel bags as they were the prestigious knights of Camelot. Then a throat cleared , the bandits froze, and they all bowed out of fear, not respect.

"Good job," the melodious voice chimed, "tie them up and take them to the dungeons, I need them alive and unharmed." She barely glanced at the menagerie of wings on the ground till one set caught her eyes more than that of Arthur's, pointing at Merlin she directed, "Do not harm this one, not a single feather." The ice in her voice made the men shudder. As she said this she turned around and went back to her mount, but she did not leave. She had to keep an eye on the limp body of the manservant and his wings, even the King of Camelot was not treated as gently.

----------Time Skip----------

The knights woke slowly, their wings ruffled and sore from the mistreatment bestowed upon them. Arthur was just as worse for wear, his wings just as stiff. The cell was cramped even for those without wings, but with seven full-grown men, it was nearly ridiculous.

As they began to come to the realization how cramped it was, Arthur realized there was another body missing. Merlin.

Arthur began to panic which set the others off, all wondering the same thing, "Where is Merlin?"

Then, across the hall was a stiff groan, and a ruffling of feathers.

Merlin had slowly come to, no doubt the recipient of an extra sleeping incantation or something of the like. With a groan he started to pick himself up off the ground, and reality hit him like a carriage. His wings were not hidden and his shirt was gone. He sat on his knees, trying to incant the spells to hide them again, and they didn't vanish, instead, the walls of the cell started glowing. Patterns and ancient dialects lined the walls, glowing a faint blue, almost humming at the tension of the strength of Merlin's magic fighting the binding.