A/N: Hello!

I can't believe I've reached Chapter 7 already. This has got to be proof that I can stick to it when writing.

All I can say to the Reviewer who goes by sword is that I am flattered that you think I am George. Unfortunately, I am not. I am female and much less interesting (I make science jokes instead!). Speaking of jokes I am running low on brass ones but I'll try to add something funny at the end.

I will apologies and warn all you lovely folks that I am back in University on Monday (same day as my birthday. Oh Cruel fate L ) so updates will probably come much slower. I also know my Beta, the wonderful Kripkeisgod is also starting back soon so some chapters may be put up unbetaed first.

I humbly thank everyone who has reviewed, and/or added me or this story to their fav/alert list. I also thank any one who has just read the fic. They are better then hugs!

And with that, I proudly present for your reading pleasure, chapter 7!


Chapter 7


A dark, figure crept into the cave on all fours, a dead rabbit strewn across its right shoulder. The cave was large, set at the top of a small cliff. The figure started to scuttle forward before freezing. Bearing sharp fangs, the humanoid figure growled lowly to the back of the cave.

The large golden dragon sighed, shaking his massive head. Sighing he levelled a topaz eye at the much smaller figure. "Honestly Merlin. Even if I wanted to steal your rabbit, it would barely feed me... Or Aithusa." the last part was added on absent-mindedly, having had to do this for the last few days.

It had been three weeks since Kilgharrah had taken Merlin from Camelot and the young warlock was unrecognisable. The scales had completely overtaken his skin, the black mass allowing Merlin to blend into the shadows. Camelot red scales ringed the man's neck before dropping down behind the front of the tattered shirt, in a mockery of the sorcerers trademark scarf. Large talons curled from elongated finger and cut through the leather boots. If this picture was not frightening enough, when the man opened his mouth, sharp teeth stood proudly out to the onlooker.

Kilgharrah studied the young man before him. In his long life, the dragon had seen many of these transformations, and in his opinion, this stage was the worse. In the last week, the man had regressed into an animalistic state of mind, akin to that of a wyvern. The next stage was the full transformation, so this animalistic state dulled the pain of the change but at the price of the intelligence of the dragonlords rapidly decreasing, as they lose all reason and instead become focused on hunting, territory and shelter alone.

A white blur flew into the cave, tackling the transforming young man before proceeding to wrestle. When Merlin first went feral, Kilgharrah had worried. Whilst it was unlikely that the warlock would hurt Aithusa, the same could not be said the other way round, even accidentally. But the ancient one didn't have to worry. Even in this state, Merlin had recognised Aithusa as a child of his kin and treated her as such.

"The same could not be said about me" The dragon grumbled to himself, remembering the fire ball that was aimed his way by a very territorial dragonlord.

A squawk drew the creature's attention to duo. It seemed Aithusa had gone for the rabbit that had been laid aside during their play. Whilst it was no where near enough to feed the growing hatchling, the young one was not adverse to snacks between meals. In retaliation, Merlin had whacked the little dragon across the snout, growling out what amounted to 'mine' in the dragon tongue.

Aithusa shook her head before turning to Kilgharrah, eyes wide and expression pitiful. Kilgharrah simply gave his ward the draconic version of Gaius's infamous eyebrow.

"Oh no, Aithusa. You know that belongs to Merlin. You shouldn't be snacking anyway." The old one scolded, watching in amusement as the warlock smirked in victory and the youngest of the trio skulked of to sulk.


Aithusa was happy, even though she was denied the yummy rabbit. Big-Eared-Hatcher was living with her and Old-Gold-One, completing her clan.

Before Big-Eared-Hatcher grew scales, Aithusa was lonely. Oh sure she had Old-Gold-One but he was boring, not allowing Aithusa to explore as much or go visit Big-Eared-Hatcher in the large stone den. The loneliness dimmed a bit when she found her new friend, Pretty-Dark-Lady. She would use magic to play with Aithusa and talk to her. She even promised to take her to the large stone den when her plan was ready! But she couldn't understand Aithusa very well, and the hatchling was too young to talk to her with her mind.

Big-Eared-Hatcher could understand her and play with her properly. And when he was a proper dragon, he could fly with her too. Aithusa couldn't wait.

Now if only she could get that rabbit!


"I'm sorry Sire. There's been no sign of Merlin anywhere." Leon was solemn as he gave his report. It had taken Arthur three days to snap and send a guard down to the tavern after his wayward servant. When the guard returned baring news that no one had seen the young man in the tavern for the last few months and after a search of the city had turned up nothing, Gaius admitted he hadn't seen his ward since he sent him out for herbs. It hadn't taken the blonde king long to send out search parties after that.

Said King now looked at his knight. All of the original round table knights volunteered to go and find the youngest member of the band, and after each failure, they returned with sad faces. Now after the third week and sixth patrol they looked close to mourning.

"Has anyone travelled to Ealdor to see if he has returned to his mother?" Arthur knew this was a vain hope. He had been putting of this order to avoid upsetting the loving woman that was Hunith, Merlin's mother. It seemed his knights where also of that opinion, having met the sunny woman who adored her son.

"No, Sire. We will send a runner right away. It is possible that he had returned there to assist with the repairs and forgot to tell us. He can be absent minded." Elyan smiled slightly, remembering all the times Merlin had tripped as his mind had been away with the clouds.

Arthur nodded, knowing that Merlin had been worried about the state of his old home due to Agravaine's attack of the village. However, Arthur had a feeling that his friend had not run off somewhere, but was in some kind of trouble. Shaking this off, the King ordered that the runner be sent of and another patrol to go and search for the manservant.

Standing next to a pillar, Gaius bit his lip in worry. He old man knew without a doubt that Merlin was in trouble, although whether he was in real danger was the question. It was possible that the he was with Kilgharrah, seeing as he had disappeared whilst going to summon him, but why he hadn't returned to say he was going off somewhere with the dragon baffled the healer.

"Where are you Merlin?" the old man whispered, his thoughts echoed by many in the room.


Merlin licked his lips, his tongue removing blood from his face. He had just finished his meal of rabbit that he had managed to bring down and for once he didn't have to defend his meal from the hatchling. Merlin hadn't seen the little Dragon since she left after her sulk the other day.

In fact Merlin was alone now. The big gold dragon, Kilgharrah, had left on his own hunt an hour ago, leaving the warlock alone with his meal and thoughts. Whilst the majority of his brain was occupied with checking on his territory, the small, unheard part that was still the rational and intelligent human known as Merlin was appalled and frightened of his behaviour. He was acting like a dumb animal, marking his territory, guarding his food, caring little for the state of his clothes.

Oh sure, he understood Kilgharrah's explanation but that didn't mean he had to like it. But then again it could be worse. At least he was a predator. He could have been a rabbit or deer and then ended up on someone's plate. Oh he could see it now, some dumb idiotic hunter, (who looked a look like Arthur) shooting him with a crossbow, not listening to his little bunny screams.

Merlin's thoughts, both human and feral, were cut off by a strange itching. As he rubbed against the wall, shredding his top even more, he wondered if he should be rid of the thing completely. It was beyond repair now and his feral side found great joy in destroying it at every opportunity, finding the garment restrictive and pointless.

As another wave of itchiness washed over him, the dragonlord wondered what this meant. The first time he experienced this symptom, scales had started to grow on his body. Although this time it was different. Instead of an irritating prickliness, this was more of a burning sensation, although not painful. If he was lucky, this could mean he's turning back to normal and can go home soon. Both sides of Merlin snorted at that. As if he was ever that lucky, the burning wouldn't be a good sign, it would be something much worse.

As if reading his thoughts, the sensation increased. Merlin dropped to the floor, animalistic screams of pain tearing from his throat. Dear Gods it hurt, worse than anything Merlin had experienced before. Worse than the fire ball to the chest Nimueh caused, worse then the poison Merlin willingly drunk in his early days of Camelot.

Merlin's last thought as he finally succumbed to the relief of unconscious was "Please let me live."


A/N

JOKE:

What do you say to the metal bully

Stop ha-BRASSing Me