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Transformation complete, he stood at three times the height of a man, there was a snapping sound as he threw out his wings. Firelight of torches caught his golden scales. All around him men shouted, running for cover, their battle forgotten in the face of a mutual foe. Screams of 'dragon' resonated around him from all sides.
Red, hot anger fell from his mouth. Arrows and swords clashed against his scales, from friend and foe alike, now all focused on their common enemy. All equally ineffective against his hide.
Merlin kept a low flame within him, enough for those around him to be pleasantly toasty. Lancelot and Elyan settled on either side of Percival, huddled together for warmth, leaning against Merlin's side, and tucked under his wing. He'd keep the warmth going for his friends, no matter how the effort drained him.
Gwaine settled between Merlin's front legs, leaning against his vast chest, one leg a pillow, the other a blanket. He fell into the deep sleep of one who'd not been able to find rest in some time, finally able to sleep with both eyes closed.
When Aithusa tired, she napped either in Gwaine's arms, or rode in Merlin's mouth, her little head hanging out at the side so she could still see their journey as she rested. She napped frequently, soon ready to try her paw at hunting again.