Thanks to Lady Clark-Weasley of Books, Glittery-excuse-for-a Fae, Siany–T, lnicol1990, Bramblerose4, Ikchen and Hogaboom

Arthur started when there was a sudden movement to his left, turning just in time to see his manservant falling, hard, on the earthy ground. His head made a sickening crack as it struck a rock. With anxious eyes, the prince dived to the boy's side, turning him over and attempting to shake him awake. There was no response. Quickly, Arthur felt for a pulse on his friend's neck and found it, strong and regular.

"Merlin?" he pinched his servant's ear, he seemed to remember that from what Gaius had told him about seeing if someone was unconscious. Merlin didn't even flinch. Arthur frowned in confused. The boy was breathing and he had a strong heart beat so what had happened? Why had he collapsed? The prince was surprised once again by his worry for the young sorcerer. Dismissing this alarming realisation, Arthur favoured slinging his friend's body over his shoulder and heading up to the castle in search of the physician. Maybe he would know what was going on.

He could see the world! Camelot was stretched out before him and beyond that there were trees, hills, lakes and even mountains still within his vision. And they were so sharp, so focussed; it was like being a colourful dream where everything was so vivid it didn't seem real. He was sure that he could even see the goats grazing on the mountain side.

Not only could he see but he could hear the steady thrum of his wings. His wings? They didn't belong to him, they belonged to Elsu. He was in Elsu's body – sharing it with the animal. He could feel the foreign sounding heartbeat of the bird and could understand the emotions that passed through the falcon's brain. Somehow Merlin had managed to transport his mind, his soul, into Elsu. It seemed impossible but what he was experiencing now proved it wasn't.

Elsu moved into a swoop, his arched wings cutting through the air like a blade, his feathers flat against his body. Merlin could feel all this and it unnerved him but at the same time it was exhilarating. The merlin flapped his wings and rose silently higher, his eyes scanning the countryside. And the boy who shared his gaze did the same, drinking in the scenery like a thirsty man: the grey brick houses, the thick carpets of trees, the green acres of land dotted here and there with sheep and cattle. What he could observe from this viewpoint was almost overwhelming.

The bird picked up speed, skimming through the sky, he had caught sight of something with his awesome vision: the larks and swallows were out and they zoomed carelessly through the air, playing on little eddies of hot air that rose from the earth. The wild animals were yet to pick up the presence of the swift approaching grey-blue falcon. Elsu was small but he was courageous and Merlin knew, he could feel it in fact, that the merlin would not give up until he had one of those juicy little bodies in his beak.

With a keen eye, Elsu picked out the easiest target, a swallow that had strayed to the outer edges of the flock. This swallow was a youngster, barely older than the predator that stalked him, and was yet to learn that staying close together was the key to survival. The miniscule brown speckled bird was about to be taught the hard way – maybe even at the price of his life.

Within the falcon Merlin was in turmoil. He didn't wish to watch this murder. He understood this would be Elsu's first kill and that the falcon was a bird of prey whose natural instinct was to attack, slaughter and eat. However, he didn't really want to witness the slick assassination that his merlin would no doubt carry out. Instead he tried to figure out a way to escape his feathery prison. There must've been something he'd done to get him here in the first place so how could he reverse it? Merlin concentrated very hard.

"He's awake!" a voice cried.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, his nose twitched, if he doesn't open his eyes now he's faking it." The voice belonged to Arthur.

Merlin decided to crack open his eyes rather than face the consequences of not. As soon as he did this he was aware of an acute throbbing pain in his head. He felt like he'd been bludgeoned with a very heavy wooden club or, alternatively, trampled by a stampede of horses. By the time he'd fought down the agony he could just about focus on the prince who was staring at him. "See, I told you! Good to see you've finally returned to the land of the living, Merlin."

"Huh?" Merlin found his throat was parched and he coughed drily. "Water?" Quickly he felt the cold solid edge of a cup on his lips and cool water trickled into his mouth. It was bliss. Once he'd recovered, Merlin looked at his friend with bewildered eyes. "Why the hell does my head hurt so much? Did you sit on it?"

Arthur had the pride to look indignant but the contentment to add a sparkle of teasing to his offended expression. He was relieved that Merlin was awake and there seemed to be no ill effects of the bash to his skull.

"I did not sit on your big head, no," the prince retorted, "In fact I carried you into the castle when you fainted like a handmaiden and whacked your head on a rock."

"I'm glad you're glad I'm better, Arthur," Merlin grinned, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "And thanks."

"No problem." Usually Arthur revelled in praise, practically swam in approval, but from his manservant it was different. The thank you was from Merlin's heart and he didn't give that kind of praise very often. Arthur had only experienced his commendation once before when the prince had ridden out to get the cure for a poison. It filled him with a warm tingly feeling that was unfamiliar and not all unwelcome. "Well, I best be going. By the way, Elsu is with Gwen, she caught him awhile back and is looking after him. He had killed this swallow and was enjoying tearing its innards out all over the King's throne. Can you believe that? The little devil!"

"I think I'm going to be sick." Merlin had turned an unnatural shade of green. He was having flashbacks.

"Don't do it on me. These are the only clothes I have that are clean at the moment considering there is a pile waiting for you to take to the washerwoman." Arthur jumped back and then, with a final bid of farewell, left the room.

"Here, Merlin." Gaius leapt to his rescue with a wooden bucket so that the warlock could empty the contents of his rebelling stomach. "Are you okay now? Is this nausea something to do with your head injury?" The old man's eyes were full of concern as he watched the boy – who was the closest to a son he would ever get – wretch again.

"No, Gaius," astonishingly the manservant still had the ability to chuckle, "This is because I was there when Elsu attacked that swallow."

"Oh. What?"

"It's a long story that I don't think even I understand and I was there."

"But you were here," the physician frowned.

"That's why it's complicated."

Deep in the heart of a dark cave a woman, if you could call her that, laughed. Her icy blue eyes glittering with malice as she stared into a pool of clear mirror-like water. Behind her there was the sound of a man crying - a pitiful, heartbreaking whimpering.