Chapter Text
“Merlin, it’s fine. Honestly, I can manage to undress myself without your help. Go back to your quarters and rest, you’ve earned it.” Arthur dismissed his somewhat confused manservant with a concealed impatience. He had business to do tonight, and Merlin could not know anything about it. Bloody idiot would probably get himself killed trying to help. Within The Nest, he was kept relatively safe from the vicious packs that controlled the forest beneath. As for Arthur, staying safe wasn’t a major concern of his. Once he was certain Merlin wasn’t coming back, Arthur began gathering the supplies he would need for tonight’s mission. He belted on his sword over his armor and stuffed some food in a knapsack, along with several weapons. He spotted an apple left on his dinner tray (which Merlin had forgotten to remove) and pocketed it with a grin.
Arthur opened the window in his room slowly, despite the low risk of being caught he didn’t want it to squeak. He took a deep breath and changed, exhaling slowly as feathers erupted from his skin and his clothes and supplies melted away. He closed his eyes as his body shrank and his arms dissolved into his ribs. A pair of tawny wings spurted from his back. He opened his eyes and hopped awkwardly towards the windowsill, reveling in the feel of the wind against his feathers. Arthur leapt into the night, soaring away on his powerful wings.
Several minutes later, Arthur glided to a halt above a covered dwelling atop a tree. It was circular and vaguely resembled a nest, but a nest with a roof, furniture, and other human necessities. No walls of course, they needed easy access from the air. He changed form as he glided down, landing on the floor of the dwelling with all the elegance and grace expected of an avian prince.
“Hey princess, got any food for me?” asked his fellow knight, Gwaine. Arthur chuckled as he grabbed the apple from his pocket and tossed it at him, then stored the remainder of the food in the cupboard. Arthur looked around at the rest of the group, everybody was here except for Lancelot, but that was to be expected. Years ago, Arthur had formed a group of, not vigilantes per say, but like minded men who believed the only good wolf was a dead wolf. Most of them lived near or inside Camelot, known to all but King Uther as The Nest, a massive collection of similar dwellings connected by rope bridges. Lancelot was the exception; he had been banished shortly after the formation of the knights due to a disagreement with Uther. He often spotted a pack on his way to meetings, which the knights were able to track down and slaughter. After all, they were at war, no matter how much King Uther advocated his policy of ignoring the wolves and hoping they went away.
After Lancelot arrived, Arthur handed out the weapons he had “borrowed” from Camelot’s armory. Weapons were hard to come by for several of the knights. Leon already had his sword; he was a guard in Camelot. Elyan, Lancelot and Gwaine were given swords, crossbows, and daggers. Percival got a broadsword, larger and more powerful than those of his fellow knights. After a stern warning not to break this batch of weapons too soon, they all changed to their avian forms and set off.
Gwaine soared far higher than the other knights, his peregrine falcon form excellent for dive bombing enemies. Elyan’s avian form was a tawny owl, so he scouted ahead with his excellent night vision. Lancelot darted around, his kestrel form suited to relaying messages throughout the formation without being visible to possible watching eyes below. Arthur, Leon, and Percival were spread out behind Elyan, flanking him in case of attack. Their powerful forms were the bulk of the knights’ fighting abilities while airborne. Percival was a golden eagle, Leon a bald eagle, and Arthur was a red tailed hawk.
Within a few minutes, Elyan let out three soft hoots, alerting the knights of a three wolf pack ahead. Soon, the wolves were visible to the remainder of the knights. Arthur let out a soft call, telling the others to follow the wolves until they reached a large enough clearing, then attack. Communication was difficult in avian form, but they had created an extensive system of signals to communicate clearly. The knights approached a clearing, then attacked.
The pack was clearly surprised that somebody would dare strike this deep into their territory. Or perhaps it was Gwaine ripping bloody furrows in the leader’s back. That tends to be surprising. Gwaine was up and out of reach before the pack even realized he was there. During their momentarily distraction, Arthur, Lancelot, Percival, and Leon were on the ground, fully human and already armed. Elyan landed a moment later, changing back to a near human form, but retaining his night vision. It had saved them many times in the past. The knights surrounded the pack, ready for blood.
“Any last words?” taunted Arthur. The only response was a snarl, three sets of bloody teeth bared in Arthur’s direction. Exactly as planned. Percival and Leon charged from behind, their swords cutting bloody stripes in the hides of the wolves. The leader jumped out of the way and charged towards Lancelot. Lancelot twisted out of the way, and his sword came down at an angle perfect for skinning the creature. It failed, but it was quite painful on the scratches Gwaine had made. Gwaine dive-bombed one of the other wolves, stunning it long enough for Elyan to thrust his blade through its heart with perfect aim. The third howled in anguish and leapt towards Elyan. Arthur had just enough time to duck underneath and slash at the wolf’s unprotected belly, spilling out it’s entrails in a gory mess. The knights all looked around for the leader, but it was gone, vanished into the night.
The rest of the night was uneventful. After quickly patching up their wounds, paying special attention to their arms, the knights transformed and flew homeward. At their treetop dwelling the split apart. Lancelot soared to the north and his home, Gwaine traveled south to his. Elyan flew towards The Nest with Arthur and Leon, as he was staying in a dwelling near the city at the request of his sister.
The thought of a nice warm bed occupied Arthur during the flight towards his window, if not for that distraction he may have noticed that his bedroom was not as empty as when he left it.