Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He felt the electric sensation searing beneath his skin before he woke. Energy buzzed through his body, a sharp, unrelenting sting in his blood. It pleaded - demanded - to be let out. It had been far too long - the stolen moments in hidden alcoves and solitary hallways never sufficed. The little lapses of time in his room were not enough, never enough to truly satisfy. He tossed and turned, willing the desire away. It would not abide. With a groan, he got up from his bed. The cool air of night rose goosebumps in his skin, completely at odds with the heat coursing through him.

Merlin dressed into a blue tunic and breeches without knowing how exactly, for there were no lights and his eyes remained firmly closed. He did know he wasn’t dreaming, when a tremble shot through his body as he finished tying his neckerchief and buckling his boots.

The need was growing, impossible to ignore. His body ached for the release it knew was coming once Merlin was well and truly alone. With those thoughts in mind, he sped past the main chambers, down the halls and well into the forest without anyone noticing - he had always been good at hiding.

The Darkling Woods loomed with the familiarity of an old embrace.

Merlin broke into a run, tearing through the grounds until he deemed it far enough that there would be no witnesses. Panting, he let himself fall onto the cold ground. There, he spread his arms and legs around him, pressing his palms to the forest floor. When his breath evened out, Merlin curled his fingers and surrendered the cooped burning energy within him, letting it sink into the moss and leaves, into the air, into the roots of the trees and into the very earth itself. The boiling reduced to a simmer, the simmer to a warm, happy flow within him.

It wasn’t enough, not today. Magic was energy in a constant state of flux, always changing, always moving. Without a proper outlet, his magic was still restless.

Simple chores didn’t provide his magic the satisfaction of release that constantly threatened to burst. Petty parlour tricks did nothing more than scarcely scratch the burning itch. Merlin got up, walking deeper into the woods, letting his hands trace over the sturdy trunks of the trees and the soft leaves hanging overhead. The innate magic of the land sang to him, fluttering about and beckoning him deeper and deeper into the forest. Like a dance, the energy made him move to its rhythm.

The deeper he went, tiny lights started floating around him, little specks of brightness against the dark. The wind rustled through branches, creating an ethereal tune as fog accumulated low on the floor. Elemental Magic, weak as it was, permeated the air he breathed. In the depths of the woods, magic seeped through every living creature and plant. Merlin felt it, softly at first, a connection forming with the place as he let his own magic join that of the forest, steadily growing as he let more of his own energy join in.

Voices soon came to join in the song of nature. Merlin stood transfixed as five figures came into view, approaching him. They all seemed to glide rather than walk. At the lead came a man. He had thick, curved horns on his head, a square jaw, prominent cheekbones, broad shoulders and a taut stomach that lead way to powerful hind legs of a goat and sturdy hooves. He wore no clothes, his wrists decorated with twine and some of it draped over his chest. He was stunning, a presence that commanded attention. Recalling various creatures from one of Gaius’s books, Merlin found what he was: a Faun.

He was flanked on evenly on both sides by tall and slender women dressed in leaves dancing across their bodies, barely covering their modesty, with crowns of twine and flowers to adorn their hair; let loose to sway with the breeze of late summer; what were once bright, alluring eyes of emerald and amber were now dulled to dreary greys. They had an air of gloom around them that took away from the sublime image they painted. His magic instantly went out to surround them, assessing the figures to determine if they were enemies. That proved unnecessary, as the figure on the far left called to him.

“Emrys!”

Her hair was the color of the bark of old trees and coated with moss, her bare feet kicking up fallen leaves as she came forth and kneeled before him in reverence. The other worldly women soon followed, each calling to him and thanking his appearance, however coincidental he felt it was. Their acknowledgement of him snapped him out of his daze, commanding him to attention. The use of his other name was not lost on him. Merlin tried to tell them that bowing was unneeded, but the Faun stepped forth and bowed, though did not sink to his knees as his companions before him.

“Emrys. I am Jair, Guardian of the Darkling Nymphs,” he introduced them with calm and respect. “Ptelea,” the one that had called to him first, “Morea,” standing between Jair and Ptelea, her hair white as her skin and pink lips spreading into a smile. Merlin happily returned the gesture. “Kraneia,” the one to his right, rich dark skin and ebony hair reflecting the lights around them with a gentle glow. She was adorned in white blossoms of the season. “And Meliae,” The last one had dark brown hair, coming to rest by her ankles, flowers of pink on her. Each Nymph inclined her head as she was mentioned, waiting for the Faun to finish his introduction.

“We have wished for your presence, and the Gods have seen fit to deliver.”

Merlin wanted to correct them, say that this was merely a chance encounter, yet he let it rest. Their magic was restless, though not in the same way as his. While Merlin’s magic seeked release from its confine, theirs searched to devour energy. It was a hunger so primal, unlike any Merlin had ever felt before from another creature. It was desperate and lacked any sort of power after years of starvation.

“There’s no need to be so formal. What can I do for you?”

At this, the Nymphs stood, soft smiles playing along their faces. The one that first called - Ptelea - took a step forth.

“We have become weak, Emrys. With Uther’s purge, Magic has been drained from our home and we suffer for it. Today you have given some back to our lands, but we the Nymphs and the Faun are frail. We cannot take any more from the Earth, as we have nothing to give in return. We ask that you extend us the kindness that you’ve just bestowed upon our lands, unto us.”

She finished with a bow of her head, a silent promise of servitude in exchange for his favor. Merlin bit his lip, wanting more than anything to help, yet unsure of how to proceed. Nymphs and Fauns were creatures of magic and nature, and he was their Kin. Their magic, although rooted from the same source, was different. The bond that was created allowed him to feel their presence, to translate their magic to something he could understand, but was that enough? Just like them, the bond was fragile and dim. They wouldn’t last longer than a fortnight with the low reserves that they did have.

Without thinking any further, he asked, “What do I need to do?”

Meliae and Morea stepped forth, each taking a hand, and guiding him into a clearing. The rising sun shone brightly onto a slab of smooth stone at the center. The others followed a few steps behind.

“Give us, Emrys, what you wish to give. We shall take no more than what is offered. Let your nature unravel, and gift us as it sees fit,” said the Faun, laying a hand on his shoulder. He retreated, and the Nymphs sat him on the edge of the makeshift altar.

The sun was beginning to peek through the sky as they took his neckerchief, folding it neatly and placing it to the side. Another took his jacket, a third removed his tunic and the fourth took his boots. The magic inside him fluttered through their connection, coursing from him to them as the layers were removed.

“Nature is bare, Emrys. We have no need to hide, but you come from a society of man. We do not expect anything from you, that you do not already give.” Jair whispered, his voice carrying in the wind as he brought a hollowed rock filled with charcoal and oil mixed into a thick paste. His hands began to trace runes over his bared chest and arms with a gentle touch - a touch that reminded him of another sort of energy that needed release. The hesitant hands of one of the Nymphs stayed at the waistline of his breeches, awaiting the order to either unlace them or to retreat.

For a moment, Merlin felt naked, vulnerable, exposed for them to see. That passed quickly when he saw the look in their eyes. It was safety to reveal himself what he saw in them. As Jair had said, nature was bare. It was the Nymph’s and the Faun’s nature to be exposed and free. The rules of man did not apply to them. In here, they did not apply to him.

“I am of your Kin. I give you myself as I am.”

The hands moved to untie the laces of his breeches and other sets pushed him down onto the stone warming under the sun’s morning rays. The runes Jair traced onto him seared onto his body, temporarily marking him so that the transfer of magic flowed easily between them. The Nymph’s hands stroked oil into his arms, into his chest and through his hair, massaging his scalp. Merlin let himself relax, feeling his energy fluxing and spreading, coursing through his veins and through the runes, into his companions. Jair stopped tracing marks into his body, eliciting a moan of protest from the warlock. He wasn’t gone for long, as soon his hands were coursing through his stomach, reaching lower with each stroke.

The heat of arousal rose inside him, building with each caress to his skin. His magic curled around the Nymphs and the Faun, eliciting pleasure in them, much like they were on him.  Their hands were all over his body, soothing and coaxing both magical and sexual energy through him. Every repressed desire was tended to, those careful hands wandering his skin, taking and giving. Merlin’s magic spread through them, his hands touching their flesh as their hands touched his. They were all gasping and moaning, taking and taking from each other everything that they gave.

The ritual came to a climax with Jair in Merlin, his strong hands around his hips as he thrusted and the Nymphs teasing his skin, his nipples, and his cock. The magic surrounding them electrified the air. Clouds gathered and rumbled with thunder. Rain pelted down on them with each pleasured groan. Ptelea was the first to cry out in satisfaction, lightning striking the ground as she did. The others soon followed, each time a stroke of lightning signifying their release.

Merlin, Jair and the Nymphs exhaled, sated of their desires, and lay on the stone. The rain settled into a light shower that cleansed their bodies. Jair was the first to stir, procuring a lute and playing a jovial tune. The Nymphs soon sprang to their feet, taking hold of Merlin and pulling him into a dace. Water dripped down their naked skin as they frolicked, the rain coming stronger to the rhythm that was played.

Merlin was reminded of the night him and Will had snuck out into the caves by their homes, young and eager to discover and explore. Merlin had set a patch of the nearby forest on fire that night, his passion burning that bright. Neither realized it had been him until they had finished, the flames extinguishing themselves of their own accord. Since then, he had to take control, to reign in.

This night, guided by the Nymphs, the Faun and Nature, he let himself be free in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be.

They sat in the damp floor, snacking on berries and other nuts gathered from the forest. Merlin felt more relaxed than ever, simply existing in the moment. They drank the cool water collected from the rain. They laughed, they talked. And eventually, Merlin knew he should leave. Gaius would vouch that he’d been out collecting herbs, though he better be gone before patrols were sent near the area.

“Emrys, we humbly thank you for sharing your energy and your gift with us. We know you asked for nothing in return, yet we wish to gift you with something as a measure of thanks.” Ptelea stood, going over to a tree and taking a pouch from one of the hollows.

“Some decades ago a traveler passed by this side of Darkling Woods. He was a Dragonlord, and he saved us from a Golem. In exchange, he asked that we keep this safe from the world. He said that one day, when the time was right, it would be passed onto another Dragonlord.” Jair explained, voice low, “We believe, Emrys, that he meant you.”

Merlin took the pouch gently, eyes wide and curious. The remnants of magic within it trembled, calling to him like Kilgharrah had done upon his arrival to Camelot. Raising his gaze and pocketing his prize, Merlin nodded at the forest creatures.

“Thank you for keeping it safe.”

A smile crept unbidden onto his face. Jair returned the gesture, his own teeth gleaming in the sunlight. The Nymphs stood, each placing a kiss upon his cheek before departing to their trees. Jair remained, facing him. His features drew back, exposing concern.

“Many conflicts are fast approaching, Emrys. We have every faith that you shall overcome them, but we realize that the burden of Destiny is far too heavy to be carried alone. You have proven yourself to us, as you will soon to others of your Kin and those you protect. Know that you are of our own, we shall stand by you and by no other.”

Jair’s eyes were sincere, a vow to protect and to care. He stood, coming next to Merlin and lifting his chin delicately so their gazes could meet, “The Darkling Wood Nymphs and the Guardian Faun will always rise to your command, my Dragonlord.”

A chaste kiss was placed upon his lips before Jair disappeared, leaving Merlin awed, touched and feeling better about overtaking his Destiny.

Merlin walked with a spring in his step as he made his way to Gaius’s chambers. The physician was already up and about when he entered, rosemary, yarrow and lavender in hand.

“My boy, where have you been? I thought you were still asleep.” He received the herbs, beginning to sort them as he waited for an explanation.

Merlin’s eyes gleamed with the memories, eager to share what he had been through. Upon noticing this, Gaius’ shoulders eased into relaxation, unknowing of the tension that had been in them before.

“I couldn’t. My magic got restless and I had to go out to the forest. You’ll never believe what happened! Gaius it was so,” He raised his arms over his head, not knowing how to convey the feeling of the experience. Gaius only raised his eyebrow in amusement, a sign which Merlin took to mean as go on .

“There were Nymphs - four of them - they were so beautiful, unlike anything you’ve ever seen! And their Guardian was a Faun! His horns! His name was Jair! The Nymphs were amazing! I shared with them my magic! It just went all out and -! And then they -”

Merlin caught himself before he said anything that Gaius didn’t need to know.

“They what, Merlin?” The eyebrow was back, questioning, daring him to lie. Merlin decided to omit that part, skipping to what happened next.

“They gave me this,” He pulled the pouch from his pocket so that Gaius could examine it, “Said it was from a Dragonlord.”

The contents poured out onto the table. Small stones smoothed on one side landed with soft thunks. Inspecting them showed that each one had engravings on them, looking further still, some of the stones fit together like pieces of a puzzle. The two examined them, though there was not enough time to decipher it at the moment. Aside from that, the runes were presumed to be in Dragonspeak, a language neither Gaius nor Merlin knew how to read. Merlin felt himself drawn to the stones, the runes changing in his eyes to accommodate to his language, but they flickered back before he could understand a word of them. Gaius watched in fascination as Merlin’s eyes gazed upon the stone, having an inkling of what was happening. With a rueful smile, he said, “We have duties to attend, boy. Best hide that and tend to Arthur. We can go over them later tonight.”

Nodding, Merlin went up to his room and placed the stones next to his book of spells under his floorboard. He ate his breakfast and hurried to the kitchen to grab Arthur’s. With having hardly any sleep and his energy spent in such ways, today promised to be a long one.

Hopefully Arthur’s feeling merciful.

Why do I hope for such miracles?

Arthur was not merciful.

It had been a month since the Great Dragon had been defeated, and even more since the Great Battle of Camelot. Tonight was to be a celebration in honour of Lady Morgana, commemorating the time she went deep into the catacombs to break the Rowan Staff casting the enchantment on the Undead Skeletons. Arthur had a lot of pain to vent, and Merlin -no sleep, no energy in him Mer lin - was an easy target for the hurt Prince. Mocking Merlin kept him grounded. Which was the only reason as to why Merlin did not poke his fun at the prat for being the Ultimate Prince of Pratliness. Why he took it all in stride and then some. Unknown to him, Arthur was grateful.

“She was so brave. I never imagined she would be gone one day. I always thought that I would be King and she would still be here to harass me into doing her bidding.”

Merlin gave him a sad smile, “That she was, my lord.” However, he knew that Morgana’s true bravery came not only from the destruction of the Staff.  “I still think Morgana can find a way to cross the veil and harass you at any given moment.” That at least got a weak laugh from Arthur. It had been so long since he had smiled, Merlin began to think he missed them.

“I don’t doubt it, Merlin,” he sighed, “I still miss her. She was like a sister to me.” Merlin rests a comforting hand on his shoulder before continuing with his duties around the room. The quiet that surrounds them is comfortable, each retrieving into their own minds. That evening, Arthur asks for an early dinner and dismisses Merlin as soon as he finished serving the food.

Perhaps Arthur did have some mercy after all.

Merlin was up in the abandoned east tower, gazing at the courtyard as the sun began to set. It had been an exhausting day, yet sleep evaded him. Something called to him at the back of his mind - thankfully not the Dragon this time. He followed it here, and now sat in the windowsill, waiting.

As the sky turned dark and the first flash of stars came into view, he felt it. A tug in the fabric of magic, a different sort of flow in the energy. He turned around. His breath caught in his chest. Eyes wide, he didn’t dare move.

Morgana.

She sat, regal as ever in her favorite emerald dress, her hair pinned artistically and a soft golden glow about her. She smiled kindly at him, the patient smile she showed him when he was being particularly slow about something. In this case, he figured, it could be excused.

She knows she’s supposed to be dead, right?

“Merlin.” She stood from her invisible perch, coming over to him and placing a loving hand on his cheek, “I am glad to see that you came unscathed.”

He peered at her curiously, blue eyes trailing her movements, “I thought you were dead.” The lady sighed, knowing that this meeting would not be easy. “I am. I took a pass, I needed to talk to you.” He frowned at her words, tilting his head. “Talk to me? It must be important, if you’re here.” The comment resembled more his personality, so Morgana let her smile widen.

“Indeed. I wished to thank you,” she motioned for him to stay silent at his hanging mouth. Once Merlin started blabbering, there was no stopping it.

“You were there for me, even if it seemed all hope was lost. You rid me of my fear and my hate, you didn’t let them consume me as they have Uther. You showed me that there is a right way to bring magic back to the kingdom, to create peace for sorcerers and people alike. Merlin, you are everything that magic needs right now. Morgause was bitter, and she prayed on my bitterness as well. She may have loved me, but she used me too. I forgive you for poisoning me. I -”

“That was the Dragon’s idea! It was the only way to break the spell and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do - I’m so sorry! He told me - and you -- and the prophecy - I was so scared. I’m still scared! Morgana I - I’m so sorry for what I did to you. I’m a bloody coward! I knew you had magic and I should’ve helped you and -”

“Merlin!”

He closed his mouth with a click! Eyes wide as he stared. A hurried ‘Sorry!’ escaped his lips at Morgana’s mixture of fond exasperation.

“This is what I meant. Merlin, you have such a big heart, so much good in you. I understand now the position you were in. I understand your fear. I want you to know that all has been truly forgiven this time. Merlin, you’ve shown me that magic can be used for good, that the powers we share do not make what we are, that there is no reason to fear them as we have been taught. With your help, magic will return, I know it - I have every faith in you. I just wish I could still be in that side with all of you.”

She brushed her fingers over his fringe in a gentle caress before enveloping him in a quick hug, “I know you’re scared, I was too; but you are braver than I was. May you have the best of luck, Emrys.”

As suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone. Merlin stared at the stars and the full moon for a while longer. His heart felt lighter, Morgana’s words sinking in. As he walked back to Gaius’ chambers, he felt magic humming within him. There was a shift in the way it felt, a wind of change bubbling in it. The tingle was something he had never felt with such ferocity before. It felt like the beginning of a tournament, like the pieces of a game falling into place.

Destiny was fast approaching.

Chapter Text

Kilgharrah was not particularly pleased upon being summoned by Merlin, however, he was not particularly displeased either. The tension between them was still taught, yet with time, and Aithusa, it had begun to yield. Aithusa, however, was another matter entirely. She bounded up to him, sniffing his hair and burying her head in his chest affectionately. They spent a few minutes reuniting, Kilgharrah watching them with veiled adoration, occasionally huffing warm air their way. After a while, he decided to ask what had been the cause of his summoning.

“What ails the crown this time, young Warlock?”

Merlin gave him a grin, an impish grin Kilgharrah was unused to seeing in the warlock, “Not everything is about Camelot’s Crown these days,” he shrugged, and pulled out a pouch from the inside of his worn coat.

“I find it that the time for the Dragons has come,” Merlin poured out the stones, kneeling to pick up the ones he knew belonged together and setting them apart. Kilgharrah said nothing, merely watching with rapt attention as Merlin did as he would, Aithusa sniffing the pieces before being batted away gently. She insisted on helping, but that only scattered away the pieces. Eventually, she decided the game was over and set herself by Merlin’s side, blue eyes trailing his movements.

“I met the Faun and the Nymphs of the Darkling Woods. They gave me this, but I don’t know what it is. The letters - I can’t understand them, not really. Sometimes they change, but then they change right back,” He kept placing the stones together, pieces coming together like a puzzle.

“These are ancient runes, Merlin, forged by a Dragonlord of great wisdom. He foresaw a time when Dragons would be endangered, and thus he, alongside King Ashkanar, hid seven Dragon Eggs. They carved a map into a slate of stone in the Dragon Tongue, then they enchanted it and broke it off into the pieces you see now. The pieces were then scattered across Albion; for only a Dragonlord to find. It seems that the Dragonlord your Faun mentioned had found them all, yet proved to be unworthy of finding, and hatching the Eggs.”

Kilgharrah observed as Merlin finished the puzzle, a warm gaze overcoming his features. In all his years, the entirety of the stones had been found many times, yet Merlin was the only one capable of completing it. For his part, they boy had seemed fascinated with Ashkanar’s story - as he usually was when Kilgharrah told him anything related to magic (though he would never admit it to the Dragon’s face) - until the mention of unworthiness. His smile slipped right off his face, a daunted look taking its place in an instant. Even now, Merlin doubted his abilities. He knew that for all the power he wielded, all the magic that he felt brimming his soul, he did not know how to handle it completely. There were parts that were instinctive, things he simply knew he knew, or didn’t know that he somehow knew how to do. But this, being what his father was, what his father and the ones before him were, and being it without guidance, it scared him more than he could admit.

The first time he faced Kilgharrah, he wasn’t sure it would work.

“Unworthy? What do you mean?”

“It was no coincidence that you hatched Aithusa. You proved yourself a worthy Dragonlord, Merlin. It is true that only a Dragonlord can call forth a Dragon from its egg, but it is not true that just any which one can do it. As is your destiny to stand by Arthur’s side, it is your responsibility - from your heritage, your Kin - to be the Dragonlord to lead the Seven Dragons of Albion.”

Merlin bit his lip, considering his words. Daunting, indeed.

“What - what happens, if I can’t hatch them? What if I can’t even find them?”

“No man can choose his destiny, Merlin. And no man can escape it. The Triple Goddess has seen a light in your soul that no other has in the entirety of the world. You were chosen for this honor because of who you are. You have already hatched Aithusa, believe in that.”

Silence reigned for a few minutes. Kilgharrah was not a dragon to hand praise as such lightly. Aithusa snuggled next to Merlin, sharing warmth and comfort to the warlock. She couldn’t speak yet, but their bond permitted her to share feelings: love, strength and belief. Aithusa believed in him, as did Kilgharrah - loath as he was to admit it.

“What must I do?” It held no room for hesitance - it was the voice of a Dragonlord, powerful and commanding.

“That I cannot tell you. You and you alone must discover what it is to be a Dragonlord,” said the Dragon, a hint of apology in his tone, “but what I can tell you, is that there will be six trials, one for each Egg. Every trial will test you, just as Anhora’s Unicorn tested Arthur. Once each lesson has been learned, the stone will reveal the location of the Egg.”

Merlin stood, gathering the pieces and placing them back in their pouch. Aithusa curled around him like a cat, knowing that their time was coming to an end. She looked at him with pitiful eyes, begging to be brought along. He pat her snout gently, cooing sweet nothings as well as promises of a bright future. She stepped back and spread her wings, reading for flight.

“You may consult with the Physician, however it is you who must prove the lesson has been learned. Be warned, young Dragonlord, those Eggs have existed for innumerable years now, perhaps laid before Aithusa, there may be not much time for them left.”

With a strong push of his wings, the mighty dragon was soon a small spot in the night sky, Kilgharrah and Aithusa invisible to his gaze.

Gaius was serving a bowl of steaming stew and thick slices of bread when Merlin entered their chambers.

“What did he say?” asked Gaius by way of greeting, taking a seat at the table and presenting Merlin a small plate of sweetmeats from the palace kitchens, “Hilda brought this for you as way of thanks, for administering her the tonics when she was down with the cold.”

Merlin beamed at his prideful expression and comment of, “You’re shaping up to be a great Physician, my boy. Not just one who knows the trade, but cares well and good for his patients.” With pink stained cheeks, Merlin could only reply with a winsome smile and a, “Leaned from the best there is.” They ate in companionable silence, putting off Gaius’s initial question until they had eaten their fill.

“It’s a map. I’m supposed to prove that I am a ‘worthy’ Dragonlord and then the runes will reveal the location of the hidden Eggs. The thing is, Kilgharrah can’t tell me anything else, but there is no other Dragonlord for me to learn from. Until recently, I didn’t even know they existed, much less that I was one. How am I supposed to prove that I am worthy, if I don’t even know what it means to be one?”

Gaius frowned, his countenance turning sorrowful, “That is one question I cannot answer, my boy.” He pat Merlin’s head and picked the dishes. He said his goodnights softly, leaving Merlin to his own.

By the time dawn crept back and the sun showed its first rays, Merlin wasn’t sure if he had slept at all. He hardly felt the passage of time and was not in the mood to be up and about, performing useless tasks just for Arthur’s amusement. However, Duty’s call and all that. He changed into a clean pair of breeches and tunic before donning his neckerchief and jacket.

Gaius had already served a bowl of porridge with some slices of leftover bread. While Merlin would usually be devouring those by now, today he found that his appetite eluded him, as did the answers to questions he couldn’t even ask.

“Merlin, I know this is hard for you, but you need to focus on your tasks. You don’t want to be late again and have Arthur throw another goblet at you.”

“Arthur is too busy training his men and helping with repairs all over the citadel to be too concerned with me right now. He’s hardly called me incompetent these last days,” Merlin picked dejectedly at his food, not eating any. “What am I going to do, Gaius?”

Gaius sighed, “There is nothing I can do to help you, Merlin. In my opinion, I think you should wait. You don’t know how to find the Eggs, and even if you did, how are you going to keep the Dragonlings from being found? I know you feel you have to do this now, but do you really think that this is the best moment to call them forth?”

Merlin was silent for a moment, the words sinking in. Then, like a dam breaking, anger took root in him and exploded. He stood up, careless of the stool falling behind him.

“What? Of course it’s not! But I can’t just let them die without them having had a chance to live first! Kilgharrah said that they may have been laid before Aithusa! Gaius they don’t have time to waste if they want to live!”

“Merlin - listen boy. I don’t want that to happen, but if Uther finds out he’ll have them killed and you as well. I can’t lose you, you’re the closest I have to a son.”

As quickly as it had ignited, his rage burned out, leaving him unsteady and vulnerable. Gaius always looked out for him, was always nagging him about not being careful or too reckless, but never chastising him for using magic when there was no other way. He praised him for his kindness and taught him how to control his gift. Gaius had seen the fall of many sorcerers and magical creatures during the Purge, how could he ever think that Gaius was unaffected? With a much calmer voice, almost a whisper into the morning, he replied, “I’m the last Dragonlord, it is my duty to care for them. I can’t wait for a time that is still years away. Not when I know that doing nothing will end in their deaths. I know the risks, Gaius, but I have to be willing to take them and hope that what I’m doing will be enough for now.”

Gaius gave him a sad smile, he seemed to be doing it a lot these past days.

“Then I am sure you will find a way to do what needs to be done. I have every faith in you, my boy, just for this old man’s sake, don’t forget to be careful.”

Merlin went over to him, embracing Gaius as tightly as he could, heedless of the tears slipping past his lashes. Gaius pulled the pouch from where it had been hidden in a jar the night before.

“I may not think this is the most opportune timing, but I do realize that it is something you must do,” he placed the pouch on Merlin’s hand and curled his fingers around it, “Go to the forest and see if Kilgharrah can tell you more. If Arthur asks, I’ll tell him you’ve gone to the -”

“You better not say the tavern.”

“Forest, I was going to say forest this time, to pick some herbs I need to treat the more serious injuries. And you better bring those too, at this rate I would’ve sent you to pick them by tomorrow at the latest.”

They shared a laugh, Gaius handed Merlin his satchel and then he was off. He was by the edge of the courtyard when he heard someone call him.

“Where do you think you’re going? It wasn’t enough that you didn’t tend to me this morning, now you leave without saying where. Whats going on?” Arthur asked, arms crossed and jaw set firmly.

“Arthur! Sorry, you see, Gaius and I were checking inventory this morning and well, we’re almost out of pretty much everything so he sent me to collect, well everything. I would’ve told you before, but Gaius said I’d better hurry.”

Arthur regarded him wearily, cocking his head slightly to the right in consideration. Merlin smiled guilelessly, making Arthur huff.

“Alright. You better get on with it, I still need my servant to prepare my things for tomorrow’s patrol.”

“Of course, sire.”

The prince rolled his eyes and went over to where his knights were waiting, ready to receive their orders and start a day of rebuilding Camelot. Most of the damage had been cleaned out, yet there was still much more to be done. Merlin took this as his cue and headed over to the clearing where he would call Kilgharrah.

After yelling at the sky, Merlin set himself comfortably on the ground and put the puzzle back together, tracing the runes reverently. They called to him, buzzing with magic as it ran between them. He traced the mark of the caves in the Forest of Ascetir, and an oval shape standing out.

Wait. What?

The night before Merlin could hardly understand any of the words and now the runes showed him a detailed map of the insides of the caves in Ascetir, showing the exact camber in which a Dragon Egg (because it couldn’t be anything else, really) was hidden.

“I see you have unlocked the first location, young Dragonlord. It is a good sign.”

Merlin’s head whipped up at the sudden voice - he hadn’t heard Kilgharrah approaching.

“Gha! Kilgharrah! Don’t sneak up on me like that, you sodding lizard!” He admonished while the Dragon laughed uproariously, startling Aithusa just as she was about to cuddle up to Merlin. The white dragon and warlock duo held on to each other for the first few moments of the giants laughter. After more than a minute however, it became rather annoying.

“Are you done now? This isn’t even that funny, you know.”

Kilgharrah’s laughter died down slowly, breaking into chuckles as it did.

“Oh young warlock, when you’ve been captured for twenty years you learn to be entertained by the most menial of things,” the Dragon didn’t let the silence that followed stretch too long - they would have other times to focus on the sorrows of their past, “For now, the first Egg has been found. You must retrieve it before it is too late.”

Merlin nodded determinedly, face set.

“Aithusa,” he commanded, calling her forth to stand in front of him.

“You are the first of the Seven Dragons of Albion. It is you I first hatched, and as such it will be you who takes the helm of this new generation,” the words flowed, strong and unwavering in the Dragon Tongue, “To you I pledge to be a Dragonlord worthy of our Kin’s magic. You alone hold my vow, my eternal promise to care, defend and protect. My vow to the Dragons is held by you, Aithusa. Our blood creates our bond, but this promise is what binds us.

“Aithusa, my First Dragon, you are at the forefront of the Golden Age of Camelot, with you, we will lead light into the Kingdom. You are my Dragon, and I am your Dragonlord.”

Their eyes glowed gold, sealing the vow. Kilgharrah sat regally as he eyed the exchange with burning pride. Destiny was underway, and the earth positively vibrated with the knowledge. He knew that the witch could feel the change in the strings of fate, and that would bring another set of troubles for the young warlock, but for now, it was a time to rejoice.

“The vow has been sealed, Merlin. Aithusa is now bound to you, as you are to her. She is your second in command; she shall remain by your side.”

Another nod from Merlin confirmed that he had heard, but the frown between his brows betrayed uncertainty.

“I’m worried the others might find out.”

“Aithusa is good at hiding herself. She knows not to go close to the others. Now go, your next Dragon awaits, young Warlock.” Kilgharrah took flight, leaving him and Aithusa to stare up at the spot growing ever smaller in the sky. It had taken him more time to come and to disappear. He’s getting old. Merlin shook his head as if to dislodge himself from his negative thoughts.

“Come, Aithusa. It’s time to go home.”

The draconic smile she bestowed onto him was the brightest he had ever seen on her face.

Merlin didn’t like the idea of Aithusa hiding where Kilgharrah had once been locked up. It was unsettling and he felt as if there were still traces of bitterness and hatred, not something he wanted her to feel. He had to admit that this would be the only place where no one would find her. For one, it was mostly destroyed and for another, no one wanted to go there for fear of what they might see. In the end, it suited Merlin’s purpose of hiding Aithusa without having to worry overtly so.

Despite the darkness and overall general gloom of the place, Aithusa’s scales shone brightly and her eyes glowed with happiness. The bond between them had magic flowing freely, enhancing the understanding of the other’s emotions. Even when he had to say goodbye for the day, Aithusa merely snuggled into his chest before retreating to explore her new home.

The door to Gaius’ chambers was firmly bolted - an unusual occurrence, considering Gaius himself insisting they be unlocked at all times, if not open. Merlin didn’t have a key, so grudgingly, he resorted to knocking. The sound of a hushed conversation ceased, footsteps creeping closer. Merlin coked his head to the right in curiosity. Whatever could be happening in there?

The door was harshly opened a smidge, blond hair, red tunic and blue eyes peeking out. The door was slammed shut and then opened all the way again with the same violence. Suddenly, Merlin found himself being yanked inside, stumbling over his own feet and the door swinging shut behind him. Arthur held his shoulders in a firm grip while he regained his balance, though let him go as soon as he found his footing.

“Um -”

“Merlin!” He found himself enveloped in a tight hug, soft brown hair tickling his chin and the warmth of his mother surrounding him, “I’ve missed you so much, my darling!”

“Mother! I didn’t know you’d be here!” Merlin found himself grinning ecstatically, eyes closing in delight as he embraced her back. Hunith whispered sweet and loving nothings to him while she held him close, similar as to what he usually did for Aithusa when they had to part. Which reminded him that Arthur was still in the room, so reluctantly, he stepped back a pace or two.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but I thought you’d be here for Yule. That’s still some months away.”

His mother’s smile waned. Arthur and Gaius came back into view. He was lead to a bench, his mother sitting beside him and taking hold of his hands. All their countenances betrayed worry, and now Merlin was beginning to fear the worst.

“Something’s happened, hasn’t it?” He couldn’t stop his voice from trembling. He held his mother’s hands tighter, thinking on every defensive spell he knew.

“I’m afraid so. I was just telling Gaius how a few days ago, a rumbling came from the caves in the Forest of Ascetir. I - No one’s quite sure as to what it is, but Old Man Simmons believes it might be some sort of beast. I know that Camelot owes nothing to Ealdor, but I had to try. Whatever it is, it cannot be good.”

Arthur stepped forth, “Hunith, you must know that anything you need, you may ask. Now, about this beast…”

Dawn’s light found the Prince, his servant, a select group of knights and a peasant woman heading towards the eastern border. When stopped at the gates, the Prince informed the Guards he and his group were off to slay a beast preying on the border villages and bring glory back to Camelot. They were seen off with little fanfare, and as the day went on, they rode harder.

By midday, the group had advanced significantly, almost halfway there. Arthur called for them to stop by a creek and break for lunch. The knights cared for the horses while Merlin and his mother prepared lunch.

“How did you think that could ever be me? It had Will’s name written all over it!”

“And him and you were inseparable by then, honestly, Merlin. Will may have enacted it, but I know my son and I know him well. That could only be of your making,” Hunith argued back, a mocking reproachful grin lighting her face. The knights around them laughed heartily. At least now they knew where Merlin got his some of his cheek from. Hunith was delightful. They talked more, prying into Merlin’s embarrassing childhood stories. He took it with grace and teased them back, witty comments at the tip of his tongue.

“Oh, that was spectacular, Merlin! I didn’t know you had it in you. I’ve got to meet William!” Gwaine hollered, laughter robbing him of breath, “He certainly has to meet me! All the things we’d do, my genius and his tenacity.”

The knights shared a round of uproarious laughter, until Lance caught Merlin’s dimmed smile and telling wet eyes.

“Yeah, I guess you would’ve gotten along. He’d probably have roped you into more fights than you can handle - he was always a handful.” Arthur put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.

“Sorry, Merlin. I didn’t realize -” Gwaine started to apologize, the other knights quieting down, their own sorrowful looks dampening their countenance.

“It’s alright, you didn’t know,” Merlin’s lips twitched downwards and Arthur squeezed one last time, then released his hold on him.

Hunith called for lunch, serving them before retelling another of Merlin’s stories. It was a bit awkward at first, them trying to walk around eggshells with Merlin, but as Merlin himself began to smile again, the knights and the Prince found themselves relaxing, enjoying the brief respite. Soon enough their small camp was packed up and they were on the road again, riding harder than before as a sense of dread creeped up on the group.

They arrived late at night. The moon shone with an eerie yellow glow and the stars light his behind dark clouds. Merlin felt whispers around him, soft, mournful cries calling out to him, drowned out by a fiercer, stronger growl. It made his skin crawl and sent chilling shivers racing down his spine. That would be the monster. However, the growls did not scare the softer cries. It nagged at Merlin’s mind, though he did not know why.

The knights dismounted and Hunith lead them to tie their horses by the fence. Arthur, Percival and Elyan went inside with her to set up their sleeping arrangements and give Hunith a hand with making dinner. Leon and Gwaine were tasked with caring for the horses, taking off their tack, brushing them down and giving them their feed. Merlin volunteered to go fetch water from the creek, Lancelot agreeing to escorting him before Arthur could volunteer himself.

“So obviously you wanted to ask me something about my magic. What is it?” Merlin looked at Lance from where he was collecting water in a bucket. Lance chuckled, “Was it that obvious?”

“Seeing that you’re the only one who knows, you’ve been itching to ask me something since lunch, and this is the only opportunity to be alone so far, yes, I’d say it was fairly obvious.”

Lance hummed indulgently at him, “Then you’d be right.” His tone lowered, “It was you, wasn’t it? The whirlwind.”

Merlin stared at the ground. He set the buckets and looked anywhere but his friend. Lance saw him retreating into himself and felt a pang of guilt hit his chest.

“You already knew that,” Merlin sighed, groaning, “What is it you really want?”

“Most likely, the beast is of magic, which means that, almost assuredly, you will have to use magic while we fight it. I wanted to know what you want to do when we face the creature. There’s not much space to run in the caves, and if Arthur finds out tomorrow, he won’t be pleased to find out that way.”

“You think I should tell him before we face it,” His already pale face lost any remnants of color, voice barely even a whisper. Merlin’s eyes reflected the yellow glow of the moon, wide and unbelieving. Lancelot knew that this wasn’t something Merlin would want to hear - he never did well with being told what to do. Though Lancelot wasn’t ordering Merlin.

“Yes, I do.” He knew he had to be firm, “He has a right to know and in the fight tomorrow, you may not have a chance to hide what you can do. Remember the spell? The one you used on the lance when we faced the Griffin? I heard you chanting it, I saw the lance as it burst into blue flames! Arthur won’t always be unconscious, Merlin.”

Merlin put down the bucket, “No. It’s a bad idea. Neither of us is ready for that. Much less before a fight. If anything happens, I need you to cover for me. Arthur can’t know yet.” He turned his back on Lance, picking up a second bucket.

“You’re in your home, Merlin. Magic is legal here, Arthur can’t do anything.” Merlin dropped it, facing Lancelot with an accusatory glare in seconds. He should’ve seen it coming, though somehow he didn’t, and Lancelot found himself taking a step back from the powerful gaze.

“So you think he’ll try to kill me?” He sounded outraged, yet there was fear laced in his words. Merlin didn’t want to think about it, because he knew, inevitably, that perhaps, those thoughts would cross Arthur’s mind, and more than that, that maybe, Arthur would act upon them. Lancelot raised his arms as if he were calming a startled horse, stepping closer slowly before placing a hand on each shoulder. He caught Merlin’s eyes, willing him to calm his rapid breathing.

“I think,” he said, staring at him meaningfully, “you should be careful.”

“I think you’re stepping into something that doesn’t concern you.”

Both went quiet. A call sounded in the distance, mournful and hopeful. A growl followed, threatening and angry. Merlin couldn’t ignore them any more. He stepped back, pushing Lancelot away.

“And I think that your fear is making you unreasonable. Merlin, I’m only trying to help you.”

“Easy for you to say, you aren’t the one that’s been hiding his whole life.”

“Merlin -”

“Leave me alone.”

“Merlin, please -”

“I’m going to see Will. Get these back home.”

He ran into the forest, tears stuck in his lashes, Lancelot standing there, worried frown on his face.

“Where’s Merlin?”

The question was voiced, unsurprisingly, by Arthur. He set aside the map Gaius had procured, turning his attention to Lancelot. The other knights were instantly on alert. Hands were drawn to swords before realizing there was no threat. Their faces however, were still painted with concern. Arthur stood, and Lancelot had to wonder what stupid impulse made him think that Arthur would truly hurt Merlin. Oh, he’d be angry, feel betrayed and possibly would shut into himself for days - but he wouldn’t kill him.

“He said he was going to William’s grave.”

“Why didn’t you go with him!? There’s a monster on the loose and you let him run off just like that? Lance, Merlin is misfortune’s unlucky lover!” Gwaine reprimanded him, already stalking towards the door. He stopped there abruptly, declaring “I don’t know where I’m going. Dammit, Lance!”

“Leon, find a way to trap it within the caves. If anything goes wrong I don’t want it heading into the village.”

“He’ll be fine, I’m sure.” Percival said to Hunith, who had come to see what the commotion was about. She saw Lancelot’s face and immediately called for him to help her fetch more firewood. As he left, Arthur sent an inquiring look at Lancelot.

He found him right where Lancelot said he would be. Shivering, sniveling and kneeling on the ground before his best friend's grave.

“You know we a greed that no one should be alone, right? Even for you, Merlin, that’s an easy order to follow.” He took off his cape and draped it around Merlin, taking a seat next to him. Merlin glanced at him, then set his gaze somewhere into the mountains, “I needed to be alone.”

“You never make things easy, do you, Merlin?”

The sat side by side, in silence. The whimpering calls quieted, and the growls lessened to a barely there murmur. The sky seemed less ominous, the moon’s glow going soft. The breeze picked up and they drew closer together.

“Why does Lance look like a guilty puppy?”

“How would I know?” Merlin snorted, though he knew the reason, and Arthur knew he did. He humored him for a moment, “You are the only one who can make one of my knights have that look. What did he do?” It sounded casual enough, yet it concealed a burning anger. It threatened pain, to whomever caused the distress in Merlin’s expression.

“We had a disagreement, is all. I’ll apologize in the morning.”

Arthur frowned, nevertheless, he did not ask. He knew Merlin would tell him if it was important. “You’d better, Merlin. I can’t have one of my best knights fighting tomorrow thinking about anything else other than the battle,” he looked away then, “I can’t have them worrying about you when they face it. You make peace with Lancelot and stay with your mother. That is an order, Merlin.”

Merlin heard the crack at the end, the doubt and the fear, “You don’t think you’re coming back?” Arthur’s head snapped to look at him, eyes unable to conceal anything to Merlin’s. His voice, on the other hand, was another matter entirely, “Don’t be absurd. I know I will, but only if I don’t have to watch out for your idiot, clumsy self. So do us all a favor alright, and stay here.” Where you’re safe.

“We need to head back now, you’re mother’s probably worried about you.”

When they arrived, everyone was asleep. Arthur and Merlin lay, head to tail. Merlin closed his eyes, and heard it again. The call was stronger now, desperate, pleading and so, so young. The growling thundered, covering the whimpers, as if to direct attention away from them.

Then Merlin looked at the moon and understood. One wasn’t considered worthy if they merely found and put together the puzzle; that was only the first step. The beast was not the Knights creature to deal with: it was his. It was the first test to determine his worth as a Dragonlord.

And if he failed, then Albion and all the dragons would fall with him.