Update: 22/03/2013: This chapter constantly undergoes changes/improvements. It's novice, I know, but it's the first piece of writing I've ever posted *anywhere*, so cut it some slack.

DISCLAIMER: Clearly, I own neither BBC's Merlin or J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter. As this is the first chapter, let that be known. I will not be repeating this statement again in the future.

It was a particularly crisp spring morning for Camelot, Merlin thought wordlessly to himself as he scurried around gathering Arthur's things for the "much anticipated" first hunting trip of the season. Merlin generally disapproved of the idea of killing innocent animals, especially for sport; it was barbaric. He understood the value of hunting for food and other supplies, but Arthur wasn't hunting for food, he was the prince, he had people to do that for him. No, this kind of hunt was reserved specifically for magickal creatures. He would hunt them, maim them, cut off their horns (if they had any), and bring them back as a trophy to his father. It was done partly to appease Uther, partly to stop magickal attacks on the lower town, and partly to show everyone how prestigious and strong he was. Arthur was kind of an ass that way, and Camelot's social structure, Merlin felt, was far from civilized. Merlin knew there was nothing he could do to stop it though, for the time being, so normally he would spend most of his time trying to make sure Arthur didn't hit anything, or he would try and help the creature escape before they were even discovered. Being a warlock he had the privilege of sensing the aural signatures of most magickal creatures, provided they were not attempting to conceal themselves, which proved very beneficial when trying to keep Arthur and his knights clear of them. Sometimes if they were skittish, he'd send a little rock their way, or break a branch in their vicinity. He rarely had to resort to making physical contact with anything, which was good because it meant there was no way he could be suspected of sabotage, even though Arthur insisted upon blaming him anyways. He tried to tell Arthur on more than one occasion that he didn't approve of the senseless slaughter, but Arthur was stubborn and didn't care much for Merlin's advice, or his life for that matter. At least that's how Merlin felt. He had all but given up on trying to explain his feelings to to the prince, so he conceded to letting Arthur believe Merlin was just a big baby.

Bloody royalty. He glared inwardly. Merlin was in the stables, preparing for their little escapade, all he had left to do was prepare the horses. He began to pack the saddle bags with food that the knights would eat at their mid-day break, as hunting was usually an all-day affair. He recalled the memory earlier that morning of him taking lunch orders from all the knights. He shook his head. They're so picky. He thought. Probably because they know they can be. If the wealth of the knights was cut in half and distributed around Camelot, the knights would still be wealthy, and so would every townsman. What is the prestige of a knight or a King if he lets his people starve because of his own greed. What then, has he left to protect? Merlin pondered these ideals deeply, and he sorted out the priorities of Camelot as he bitterly fastened tacks upon the horses. Everything looked in place, but he did a double take anyways. If one of those knights suddenly came sliding off his horse while he rode, Merlin would be in the stocks for a whole turn of the moon.

He swung Arthur's crossbow quiver over his shoulder and began to lead all six horses to the court yard to be occupied. On his way through a main street connecting to the square some kids were playing on the path, and when they spotted the horses, they broke free of their parent's control, darted out and proceeded to run around between the horses' legs and under their bellies. The horses were used to people, generally; they were used to being touched and brushed all over, but not having their tails yanked on and their ears screamed in. The horses shuffled around in discomfort as the children yelped and played. Merlin's stare dropped from glaring to menacing, and a breeze began to spin around him. Children being sensitive to magick, they turned to look at him, and when they saw his reaction, they all became frightened and urgently ran back to the safety their now shouting parents. Merlin kept his glare on as he passed through the street until he finally escaped, but the horses seemed disgruntled still from the event. They wouldn't walk the way Merlin told them to, they brayed and nickered, and even bit at each others' necks and tacks. Merlin looked around before discretely used magick to flick a clod of dirt at one of them, in an attempt to separate them. To Merlin's great displeasure, the clod turned out not to be dirt, but manure, and wasn't exactly as dry as he had originally thought. It had hit one of the horses square in the side of the head. The horse flung its head around in dismay, trying to get the dung off. Merlin scowled. He walked over and tried to scrape it away with a handkerchief, but the smell would not dissipate completely. Additionally, it just happened to be the prince's horse, and Merlin didn't think he was ever going to hear the end of it.

"Merlin, would you be so kind as to tell me why my horse smells like rotting dung?" Arthur asked dryly as they exited the city and entered into the forest.

"They're horses Arthur, they do smell that way sometimes." Merlin retorted mockingly, covering his earlier incident. Gawaine laughed at their antics as Arthur adopted a completely murderous look upon his face. Arthur never really took the joking of his subordinates too seriously, he saw them less like knights of his command, and more like friends and comrades. He respected them, and took their input seriously, which had helped him to make a decision on more than one occasion. Merlin thought he would be a great king one day, except for the fact that he used Merlin as a punching bag for all of his anger and pent up feelings.

Sometimes, I can't believe that this is what I was destined to be.. Merlin thought, bitterly confused. "Very funny Merlin, really.. Ugh, what did you do? Rub it down with its own cra-"

"Shh!" Sir Perceval interrupted, slowing his horse to a halt. A distinct flutter of leaves was immediately heard not far off in the distance, maybe 50 yards. The air seemed to tense up with the nervous excitement of the hunters. All the knights dismounted in relative unison, toes touching ground first, to avoid making too much unnecessary sound. They brought their crossbows to their chests in preparation. Merlin dismounted and quietly made his way to the front left flank of the group, and with his knees bent, he waited in magickal arms in case he was needed, unbeknownst to the others. He had to protect Arthur, it was his duty, his destiny, no matter how much he didn't like it. But to the disappointment of the hunting party (not including Merlin), the rustling had appeared to cease, leaving silence to reign in the thick grove once more.

Merlin sighed deeply before taking an ambitious step forward to peer around a nearby bush. Suddenly, he slipped awkwardly on a patch of dewy moss, and flung his arms up in dismay as he tried to keep his balance. However, the battle was short lived, and he tumbled idiotically into the ditch off the side of the trail. All eyes were suddenly on him. He jolted up, rubbed his sore hip and attempted to look collected while he brushed clumps of mud and dirt from his clothes. The seriousness of the situation, completely washed away by Merlin's idiocy, caused the knights to fall into a fit of roaring laughter.. All except Arthur, who glared before rolling his eyes and turning away. Their laughter must have aroused whatever it was nearby, as the bushes farther down the path started to flutter violently, and the knights could hear female voices whispering and the pattering of delicate feet. The knights moved out after a cautious and knowing glance at one another. They spread out a bit, and began to move in towards the source of the sounds. Merlin could sense the venomous hearts of sorcerers with bad intentions. His heart began to flutter in time with the trees as he pushed his consciousness forward to try and glean more information, but he couldn't make out any distinct mental shapes. The forest hummed with tapped magick. Whoever they were, they were using natural magick to perform a dark deed, and the thought of it made Merlin sick.

The knights began to close in slowly, and the sound of a large amount of earth moving reached their ears. It was a strange sound because no one heard the use of a shovel or pick, and the earth trembled slightly beneath them. But before they could question it, a loud, thundering snap shook the air around them, so violently and brightly, it was as if Merlin started hearing colours and seeing sounds. It was immediately followed by a loud squawk and the heavy beating of wings and hooves as large, eccentric creature came galloping, trying desperately to become airborne, out from the thicket. It had the head and front legs of a gryphon and the body of a mare. Its grey feathered wings flapped frantically, rustling all the foliage on the forest floor. It trotted horizontally across the wide path and as it reached the other side, it put one last burst of energy into jumping into the air, its muscles flexed as it pushed its wings down and out behind it and it, taking off like a speeding bullet into the eastern sky. However, the legendary hippogryph was not the creature that caught the companions' eyes, but its rider. "It" was definitely a "she" , judging by the long brown hair, but she was fully clothed in black, and had lain so low upon the hippogryph's back that no one got a good look at her face. Merlin stood, astounded.

Well that was definitely the strangest thing I have ever witnessed. He thought as he gaped mentally. T'is rare enough to spot a hippogryph in action, but nay to they allow riders either; they are too noble and proud. She must be a great woman. Merlin shook his head in, aghast, attempting to clear his thoughts.

The knights stood motionless, seemingly as dumbfounded as Merlin was. For the first time it just occurred to Merlin that the woman had looked like she was actually running from something, but from what, he wondered nervously. Whatever it was, he bet that if a hippogryph should run from it, he should as well. It became suddenly apparent why the woman's urgency was so adamant, when a decrepit gray stone gargoyle, which was probably close to the size of a fully grown buckskin, came soaring out of the direction the pair had just come from. As it flew overhead, one of the knights released a crossbow bolt at it out of nervous haste, only to have it bounce off of the creature's solid underbelly, as if it were truly made of animated stone. The creature seemed to pay no notice to the assault, and continued on with its business of hunting the young woman. An awkward pause crept over the fellowship, what might have been minutes, seconds, or hours was unclear. But Arthur stood un-phased and fully irritated.

"Oi! We ARE hunting magickal creatures, aren't we?! T'is not as if something like THAT greets you every morning!" The knights snapped to, and nodded, preparing for orders. "Sir Perceval, Gawaine, Leon, take that southern route to the nearest eastern clearing on that hillside." He pointed. "Sir Mordred, Elyan, and Merlin, the northern route, with me. Go!" The knights nodded briskly in affirmation as Arthur shooed them off. He had a pretty good idea of where the pair were bound to end up, as he knew the forests around Camelot quite well. If the thing was having trouble flying, surely they would land where he was about to go. He was a hunter, it was his job to know what he was hunting as well as he knew himself.

The groups clambered down their respective narrow, beaten dirt paths, the horses being long scared off. Merlin tripped and dawdled around, feeling still a little blown away by what he had seen, and Arthur didn't look like he was slowing down for him. When they left his line of sight after he had fallen for the third time, he sighed, stood up, took a deep breath and expanded his mind. He felt the trees, their desires, their consciousnesses, and he also felt where the trees broke into the clearing a couple hundred yards away. With his eyes closed he turned to face the direction of the clearing. When he opened them he noticed he was facing almost perpendicular to the path. He shrugged, not giving it a second thought, before leaping into the forest and scaling the hill through his new-found shortcut.

As Merlin emerged from the thick tree line, he crouched low on all fours. The hill behind him had been quite steep, he had already been close to on his stomach anyways. He panted as he observed the sights of the clearing, and what he saw disturbed him deeply. The young woman mounting the hippogryph was still desperately latched onto its back and she seemed to be holding herself well, but she looked weary and scared. Naturally. Merlin thought. The hippogryph did not seem overly happy about being cornered out in a foreign forest by a stone-taloned enemy either. Merlin reiterated his last thought. It reared up, and screamed its bird-like war call, which greatly resembled nails on a chalk board when it reached his ears. The girl wrapped her arms around its neck and tried to stroke its feathers, but it refused to be calm. It already had a few gashes on its legs that sopped thick blood, but they had clotted already in several places. Magickal creatures were generally blessed with the gift of unnatural healing times, but even those gifts have their limits. Merlin worried for the creature's life, it being such a rare breed. Gryphons were aggressive and usually ate anything that didn't eat them first, and mares were far too persnickety, it was extremely rare that the two species should meet in union.

The hippogryph reared up again and this time brought its talons down upon the gargoyle's face, and its claws chipped piece of a piece of its brow. The gargoyle made a roaring sound like slate sheets grinding together, and backed up to recuperate. Arthur and his knights ran in between the two beasts, faced the gargoyle, and assumed an attack position, one that had proven itself very effective in past battles. But Merlin knew that against a magickal creature made entirely of earth and stone, their endless battering would have little to no effect on the gargoyle's impenetrable skin, not to mention the obvious incantations surrounding it. Where Merlin lay in the shrub, he wished greatly to rescue the young woman trapped on the winged beast, to free it as well from its imminent death, but he could feel a strong dark enchantment emanating from the derelict gargoyle, and he knew that if it was not stopped first, Arthur would die as well. The magick rang quite distinctly as the work of a dark sorceress, that only the work of another could undo. He feared for Arthur's safety primarily, and such matters should take presidency before all else. After all, the fate of Albion rested in Arthur's hands, and by extension, Merlin's. It is Arthur's destiny to unite the Five Kingdoms.. He just couldn't do it without Merlin, and he certainly couldn't do it dead.

Merlin jumped to his feet and darted along the edge of the clearing, out of the obvious line of sight. He muttered a few words in the language of the Old Religion that would allow him to see what kind of incantations had been placed upon the monster. His eyes morphed into a bright amber, and his vision turned black except for any and all enchantments in his range, which glowed gold in the inky darkness. Merlin had devised this spell himself, it took him weeks to perfect it so that neither heat nor life forms wouldn't turn up as present enchantments. He gave them their own signature. The spell allowed him to view a kind of physical and magickal "statistics" of a battle. Different kinds of magick come up in different hues based on their caster, their strength, and their intention. Life forms were red (sans the plant life, which glowed a faint blue, as to not distract or overwhelm him), if they were strong or weary it was determined in the strength or weakness of the colour respectively. Merlin surveyed the monstrosity as it roared and scraped its claws along the shields of the knights, who were now in a defense position. The auras around the gargoyle radiated that of a magick Merlin recognized all too well: Morgana's. He bit his tongue in anger. The enchantment could not be overcome by normal methods of de-incantation, Morgana was too good for that. But she seemed to underestimate other sorcerers immensely, as if she was the only one. So self-absorbed. Merlin almost laughed. He read the signature a little deeper. There is hardly a spell holding it together, all its power is in its wards and its enchanted talons. Merlin recalled the hippogryph chipping away its face. He shook his head. Too easy. He was just going to blow it up. Instead of trying to alter the magick that surrounds it, I could just destroy its physical form, rendering the magick useless. It should then dissipate on its own. He reflected on how foolish Morgana was, being that she hadn't the proper training and education.

That's the whole problem with Morgana, she assumes everything, and refuses to expend more energy than her assumption deems necessary, which often tips the balance between success and failure for her. Merlin gave a dirty smirk. But before he ended his "reading" spell as he called it, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander towards the newcomer, to which he noticed several portions of her person were glowing bright orange-gold, a hue he had not experienced before, nor programmed his spell to recognize... How curious.. He made note of the brightest object about her person, which looked like a small stick concealed near her chest. He was unable to determine if he should be afraid of her, or trying to save her from exposing herself as a witch in this land of outlawed magick. How was she to know, anyways? Despite everything that he had just discovered, the events transpired had lasted less than a minute, and as much as he wished to read into her, he decided to push it out of his mind for the time being, and focus on saving Arthur. Merlin ended his spell and continued on with his plan of blowing up the beast.

He scoured the edge of the clearing, and found a relatively large, round rock. He cast upon it three different invisibility spells (so it didn't become visible when it fragmented), a spell enabling it to surpass the magick used to hold the earth and stone in one piece, and a spell that forced it to explode from the inside out, directly on contact, which was hard to cast, because it defied nature's diving intentions. Merlin was successful though, eventually, and he sat briefly.. He wanted this to look as real as possible, despite its improbability. He waited for Arthur to attempt to strike the gargoyle over the head, and took it as a queue. He shot the enchanted stone through the air with a wordless burst of magick. It flew straighter than an arrow and blasted the gargoyle's head clean off, after which the body immediately crumbled to ash and dirt, as the enchantment ceased to exist. Merlin ran over to the center of the clearing and cast his eyes towards all the knights, making sure none were gravely hurt. He noticed Elyan laying injured off center, where the beast had lunged at his leg and attempted to limp away. He was incapacitated and dazed but seemed to be somewhat satisfied with the results of the battle. Arthur didn't look like he was questioning his victory either, which was good for Merlin, although he was bound to get a teasing for "not being present" the whole time.

There was a small snort and a squawk, and everyone turned in remembering the young woman, to see her upright, bolt stiff, still on the back of the hippogryph. Her eyes bulged and shifted around hastily as she was assumedly looking for a rout of escape, and the hippogryph pawed the dirt with impatience. She quickly leaned down to whisper something to it, and it became alert and eyeballed the knights and their weapons. She lightly nudged it in the ribs and Merlin heard her muffled voice,

"C'mon Buckbeak... no time to stand around... dead ferret in it for you.." But it didn't seem overly interested in obeying anything she had to say. Arthur took a step forward as if to address her, feeling awkward in her present silence Merlin watched on, hoping Arthur didn't get too close to the hippogryph, for surely it would be offended not to be addressed as well, but Arthur kept a reasonable distance. Merlin took quick stock of the woman's appearance. Gleaming brown hair, curly, angular face, clean, wealthy attire, and mostly: beautiful. She's definitely foreign to these lands. Merlin thought in awe.

Arthur stepped even more forward, and held out his hand for hers, even though she was too far away to grab it. He must think she's a princess or something. Merlin smiled.

"Fair lady-" Arthur began, but before he could so much as begin his thought, she grabbed two handfuls of feathers on the hippogryph's back, jabbed the heels of her strange footwear into its sides and shouted,

"Yah!" The creature snorted and yelped, and began to run, full speed, right into forest. Her strange figure reappeared over the treeline, as she flew fast and far, northwest, out of the forest, and towards Camelot.

Update 11/02/2013; Typos have been fixed, and a few small logical alterations have been made, particularly in the fight scene. Thanks for your patience! Stay tuned for future updates.

Update 25(27)/02/2013, 22/03/2013; Big motha fluffin' dialog change. Same plot, more details, different vocab. I wanted it to blend nicer with how my story is playing out in the later chapters, and I figured this was necessary. Plus, this chapter had seemed childish in comparison to my darkly ambient plotline which develops later. It still is a bit.

Update 30/12/2013; Another rather large change. Lots of things were irritating me about this. First impressions are everything. It's not representative of a change of direction in my story as a whole. It just makes more sense now, it's more descriptive and it allows for more reoccurring ideas in the future.

*~* If you're reading this, please give it a chance. It gets better. *~*