On Tethered Wings by Thuri (PG13)

[dameange.livejournal.com]

Fandom: MERLIN
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Author on LJ: thuri
Author Website: AO3
Author's Summary:

A dragon lord who doesn't know his power, a prince who doesn't know his heritage, and a broken king who doesn't know their destiny. What will happen, when the dragonriders of Camelot break free their bonds, and their mounts rise up once more?

Why this must be read:

This is an amazing AU. Like wonderful Naomi Novik's Temeraire series, imagine if dragons were abound in the world of Camelot. If they had been harnessed as winged warhorses. Now imagine if they weren't always subservient and silent.

When Merlin comes to Camelot, everything changes.

Incredibly well-written, gorgeous artwork, an awesome new world to explore.



Treating the young dragons became Merlin's daily highlight. He rose early--earlier than he ever had on his own, at least--and rushed through breakfast each morning, eager to get to the aerie. He took the small kit Gaius had put together for him, and hurried off, always with excitement thrumming through him.

Gradually, he got to know the others who worked within the aerie. There were stable hands who readied the dragons for flight, or exercised them on their own. Riders who took the dragons out, flying them on patrols or simply for the time spent in flight. And he got to know the dragons, as well.

There were several different types, apparently scattered at random through each clutch. The smallest and quickest were couriers, fast dragons even a lad could ride to take messages from one end of the kingdom to the other. Then there were the bludgeoners. Huge and immensely strong, they pounded the enemies to rubble with the force of their attacks. And last, Merlin's favorite, were the fighting drakes. Lean and agile, they pulled eagerly at their harnesses, ready for anything.

Even in each kind, they had their own personalities. Some were docile creatures, spoiled and well cared for, while others were high strung, difficult to control by any but the most experienced rider. He had his favorites among the dragons he saw pass, and he'd begun to make friends with a few of the other lads.

In less than a week, he'd found his place. In less than a week, he felt as if he'd always been in Camelot, as if he finally, finally belonged.

He should've known it was too good to last.

Merlin smeared greasy ointment over the biggest hatchling's hide, concentrating on the tender skin beneath its collar, a match to the ones each dragon wore. He checked every day to make certain the gold bands weren't pinching, hadn't become too tight. So far they didn't seem to be, though the dragons had grown since hatching. He'd decided they must have duplicates in larger sizes for each clutch, and that someone more trusted to handle gold and gems took care of changing them when necessary.

He grinned as the hatchling trilled softly, arching into his touch, eyes at half-mast. The small dragons were so wonderfully responsive...he loved spending time with them. His mother had kept a few cats back home to keep down the mice, but even at their most insistent they had never been as sweet.

The hatchlings stirred, one chirping uneasily, and Merlin frowned. He looked up to see what was distressing them, and realized he'd been hearing the sound of a raised voice for a few minutes, at the edge of his awareness. A voice which was getting progressively louder. The hatchlings grew ever more restless, one crying out softly. Merlin shushed her with a gentle touch, before setting down the hatchling he'd been treating.

He ducked out of the room, striding quickly down the hall to the main corridor, eyes widening at what he saw.

"Are you truly that incompetent? You can't expect me to ride with that!"

The speaker was tall, broad shouldered, muscled--obviously a fighter--and had the haughty, sneering expression Merlin had come to associate with the younger petty nobles. Pity, his face would've been handsome, if set in a less disagreeable expression. Especially with that blond hair and those incredibly blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, my lord," Johnny--a younger, quieter stable lad--bowed away, the complicated leather strapping of a dragon harness in his hands. Merlin could see, even from his place in the shadows, that it was in bad repair, cracked and patched. "I'll just fetch a new one..."

"And you expect me to break it in?" the blond spat, his gloves slapping against his thigh, face red with indignation. "I don't have time to do your work for you. If you were anything other than a worthless, useless..."

"Hey, hey, hey," Merlin interrupted, moving between the nobleman and Johnny, holding his hands out. Johnny was a shy, sensitive lad...he was liable to take this hard. Merlin couldn't stand by and watch him take the abuse he didn't deserve. "There's no need for all this."

"No need?" replied the blond, eyebrows nearly meeting his hairline. "And I suppose you think you're a fit judge of what's needful and not?"

Johnny tugged at Merlin's jacket, but Merlin waved him away with a quick, reassuring smile, before turning back. He recognized the man, now. The same one who'd ridden him down, the day he'd arrived in Camelot. An ass all around, then, not just to the peasants on the road. "I think shouting at this boy isn't going to get your dragon ready any faster. And it is disturbing my hatchlings."

"Your hatchlings?" The blond let out a bark of harsh laughter. "Look at you. You don't own the clothes on your back! Those hatchlings belong to the king, and no one else."

"All the same," Merlin replied, pursing his lips slightly, trying to get hold of his temper. "It's my duty to keep them well, and having a prat like you running his mouth off isn't helping me do it."

He turned to go, but the man's voice called him back. "A prat, am I?"

Merlin paused, praying for a moment of patience, before turning back. "For a start," he confirmed, noticing Johnny had disappeared, though he thought he saw a few others loitering about. Probably watching the show. "You're also an ass."

"Any other names you think you've the right to call me?" The blond's tone was genteel, even courteous, but Merlin could see the fire in his eyes. "No?" he asked, when Merlin remained silent, just lifting his chin, staring the man down.

"None spring to mind," Merlin replied, crossing his arms, not about to back down, now that he had the noble's full attention. Better him than Johnny; the lad wouldn't be able to defend himself and would likely suffer at this man's hands, and Merlin was older...better equipped to handle it.

"Well I've one for you," the blond replied, a smirk spreading across his face. "You're an idiot."

"Thanks," Merlin returned, just managing not to curl his lips. This ass needed a lesson, and needed it badly. "I'll remember that. Is there anything else, or weren't you leaving?"

"In my own time," the blond replied, glancing down the hallway toward the hatchling cave. "First I think I'd better see how you're managing this duty of yours...wouldn't want the king's property damaged, would we?"

He took a step toward the cave, and Merlin sidestepped in front of him, holding his hands out, fear spiking through him. Gaius had told him, more than once, that no one else was allowed near the hatchlings...he couldn't imagine what damage a spoiled brat in this mood might do. "I wouldn't."

"You think you can stop me?" the blond asked, smirk widening as he took another step forward.

"I think someone should," Merlin snapped, planting his hand against the man's muscled chest, pushing him back sharply.

A strange shadow crossed the blond's face, and he moved--faster than Merlin could react--gripping Merlin's fist and twisting his arm behind his back. "That was stupid, even for the likes of you. Threatening royalty's a hanging offense."

"Royalty?" Merlin barked, twisting in the grip, gasping when the blond's hand tightened. "You?"

"I'm Prince Arthur." A low chuckle met his ear. "Told you there was another name for me."

Dammit.


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