Okay, new chappie! Thank you all for supporting and reading my story and giving me feedback. Sorry in advance for that last bit, I didn't have time to get a second opinion on the fight scene- that's right all you people who read the AN a fight scene- so sorry if it's a little rough. Anywho, this is my last pre-written chappie so the next update might be a little slow, but don't worry i'm still actively working on this story.

Unfortunately, Agrivane escaped left, so I have to do the disclaimer myself: I do not own Merlin.

Onto the show my lovelies!

They had been riding all day, seeing as they had a destination in mind for hunting. The Grove of Alvae was said to attract many animals this time of year and they were hoping to make it there by nightfall. Unfortunately for Merlin, this meant riding quickly with almost no rests making his arms and back cry out in protest while his overactive senses did nothing to help his pounding headache. He was constantly rolling his shoulders, which ached, in an attempt of alleviating his back, but to no avail. He was sure that others in the party had noticed by now, but he was too tired to care. He figured to himself that he could just rest when they stopped in the grove to make camp. Unfortunately for all of them they had to delay getting to the grove until tomorrow morning, because they came across a broken bridge at the harshest part of the river.

"Oh great, now we have to go the long way." Arthur complained, "That's going to add at least half a day onto our journey."

Merlin cursed silently. Adding another half day of riding would not be good for his condition. He supposed that tonight he could try and get at least an hour of sleep. Being with the assassins gave him an astoundingly accurate internal clock, and because of that he had a way to set mental 'alarms' for himself meaning that he could go out away from the camp, get about an hour of sleep without alerting Arthur and the knights of his dreams, and still be able to work himself into a deep exhaustion. It didn't sound good when he made the list in his head, but it was his only option if he wanted to keep his charade up. He was already formulating a plan when Gwaine happened to ride up next to him.

"So, what did I do?" The long-haired knight questioned.

"What do you mean Gwaine?" Merlin questioned, knowing where this conversation was headed.

"Don't play dumb, why have you been avoiding me mate? Why have you been avoiding everyone for that matter?" Gwaine asked, clearly not going to leave once his opportunity was in sight seeing as he had cornered Merlin with no chance of the manservant escaping.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Merlin said stubbornly, "The only thing I've been avoiding is polishing Arthur's muddy boots. Don't you have something better to do than interrogate the hired help? Like continue to sneak sips of mead from the wineskin you smuggled on this trip?"

"How did you- wait, you're doing it again." Gwaine said

"Doing what?"

"Avoiding me."

"No I'm not"

"Yes you are, you're avoiding me and my questions. Probably why you're avoiding Arthur too, right?"

"I'm not avoiding you, I just don't want to talk."

"HA! So you admit you're avoiding me." Gwaine said, smirking in triumph, "So why don't you want to talk to us?", concern spilling into the knight's words.

"I just don't okay? Please respect that I have my reasoning and don't pry."

"Gosh mate, you don't have to get all snappy." Gwaine said in surprise. He was really starting to worry about Merlin and decided that if his friend wasn't going to talk with him, he would just figure out what was wrong by watching him like a hawk and keeping his distance.

Falcon had been making great time that day and calculated that he would get to the grove before the Camelot party made it there if they were keeping a good pace for a hunting party. He resolved to take a break, knowing if he didn't need it his horse certainly did.

"Well, well, well, lookie what we have here. A man traveling on his own near the assassins lands. Now why would someone be stupid enough to do that? Without a sword as well I see."

Falcon froze. He should have figured he would get ambushed sooner or later, seeing as what was referred to as the 'Assassins Lands' was a town filled to the brim with crooks and low-life hoods. It would be called something different, but seeing as the assassins instilled just the right amount of fear and respect in people they got to pick the name. There were many families and family lines in the assassin's lands and there was at least one criminal in each generation. The orphanage was run by the Elders, a group of retired assassins that would train the new recruits whenever a child got abandoned, orphaned, sold to the assassins, or found their way to the orphanage one way or another. While most of the assassins were orphans, there were a few that weren't. Like Jackal's son Hawk. Realizing he was getting off track he shook himself out of his thoughts and started analyzing the poor souls who thought they could attack him. There were eight in all, probably just seeking refuge in the town while planning their next heist. It looked like they hadn't stepped foot in the town before otherwise they would have recognized his leather armour as belonging to an assassin. It was always fun to let the newbies know who was in charge and he hadn't intimidated anyone in a while. This was gonna be fun.

"Well now, not the chatty type are ya boy?" The leader of the pack said, clearly tired of waiting for a response.

"No," Falcon finally replied, "I prefer to let my fists do the talking."

He flew at them with unrestrained fury kicking and punching the first four surrounding him while reaching into his belt to pull out two of his shurikens and killing one of the men with one throw, his throwing stars landing in the thug's throat and chest. He then pulled out a dagger and stabbed one through the heart, then stabbing another through the leg. He smashed an elbow into the nose of the man trying to sneak up on him while throwing his knife to impale the leg of another man. He took out another man by pinching a nerve in his neck causing the bandit to crumple in pain. He knocked another one out using the hilt of a second dagger he pulled out of his belt. He left the leader standing while the five others who were still alive were screaming in agony or unconscious.

"How did you- where did you- what!?" The bandit exclaimed in surprise and horror.

"The name's Falcon. I suggest that when you get to town you don't anger any more assassins if you want to keep the few men you have left. A word of advice; remember my style of armor, because this is the official uniform of the assassins and we run the place. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to leave places to be, people to kill, all that fun stuff. Oh, and don't worry," Falcon said walking over to the man with the dagger in his leg, "The poison on my daggers is solely to cause pain. Your men should be fine assuming they don't bleed out."

He then walked over and pulled his throwing stars out of one of the bodies and mounted his horse, riding off without a word and leaving the unharmed bandit leader still shocked that all his men were taken out so easily by a small boy who couldn't be over twenty years of age.

Okay, that's a wrap. Once again, I am out of pre-written chappies so don't be surprised if I have a slower update next week. Please review if you have questions/concerns/ideas for me or my story, they help to keep the plot bunnies at bay. Once again, huge thanks to Ladyliz2 for beta-ing my story and helping me out. Please review and have a good day!

-Shadowranger