~ by Jessica Beaubien

Merlin sat on the hard floor of the dungeon, the straw beneath him barely offering any comfort to the hard cold stone. The small dragon was coiled on his lap and Merlin held it tightly to his chest as he leaned back against the stone. He could sense the small creature’s fear and its pain. A small mewing sound could be heard emanating from the dragon as it moved ever closer, trying to seek comfort from its dragonlord.

Merlin’s hand rested on the small scaled head as he wondered just how in the world he’d ended up here to begin with…

One day earlier…

Merlin looked up at Kilgharrah towering over him, a sense of deep pride and joy resonating inside his body. The thrum of reverberating energy from the egg seemed to reach out to him. To sing to his blood, to his very soul. The word the dragon had just told him reverberated in his mind.

“You must give the dragon a name.”

A name… How was he to choose a name for such a magnificent creature? How was he to name her? He paused in his thoughts as that suddenly registered. Her. How was he to know that she was a she? He paused. Maybe he didn’t have to come up with a name, after all. He slowly reached towards the thrumming energy and he felt her. Felt her as he did Kilgharrah, and he knew. Deep in his chest he knew. Her name was Aithusa, it had been so since the dawn of time.

“Aithusa,” Merlin said slowly in the dragon’s tongue. Calling her forth to join the world. Wanting her to see the beauty and glory around him. Wanting to feel her magic resonating in his very being as he did Kilgharrah, wanting her set free.

As the egg cracked and the tiny white creature emerged, Merlin felt the resonating magic like a thick power pulsing and twirling to meet his own. Like another part of his own life was clicking into place. He felt tears drip down his face, and laughter bubbled up in his chest as his moist eyes beheld the beautiful creature. Smiling and crying at the same time, he listened to Kilgharrah’s predictions of the dragon’s birth, and felt his bond growing. His magic strengthening.

“A white dragon is, indeed a rare thing…”

“And fitting. For in the dragon tongue, you named him after the light of the sun.”

“No dragon birth is without meaning.”

“Sometimes the meaning is hard to see, but this time I believe it is clear.”

“The white dragon bodes well for Albion, for you and Arthur, and for the land that you will build together.”

Merlin was frozen without words as he watched the little dragon rising up on its hind legs and stretching its tiny wings out. Mewling at him almost like a purr. He could feel the joy and contentment from the dragon and he almost missed Kilgharrah’s next words, but when they registered he felt frozen to his core.

“Merlin, you must take her and raise her, teach her.”

“You can’t be serious. I can’t raise a dragon, Kilgharrah!” Merlin gasped in shock. How would he ever keep a dragon out of Arthur’s sights? After what happened to Uther just days ago. How could Merlin even begin to make Arthur understand?

“It is a dragonlord’s responsibility, Merlin. You cannot turn your back on your kin!” Kilgharrah roared angrily.

“Arthur would find out! We’d both be dead!” Merlin gaped at Kilgharrah as though the other had gone mad, because surely Kilgharrah was indeed losing his mind.

Kilgharrah seemed to laugh. “Do not worry young warlock. Dragonlings possess very powerful magics that insure they are hidden from all threats,” he stated with a wicked grin.

“Kilgharrah…” Merlin began, intent on arguing more, but the powerful dragon beat its wings once and took to the air. Aithusa leapt from the stump and moved quickly to Merlin, coiling around his ankle. Merlin sighed as he shook his head. “What am I going to do?”  

Merlin looked down at the tiny head that peered up at him from between his legs. It was such a comical sight that Merlin chuckled in spite of the fear and trepidation he held. He reached down and let the small creature climb into his hand. He would have to seek Gaius’s help.

Merlin cradled the creature in his hands for a moment longer, feeling the warmth of the tiny dragon in his palms. He knelt down by his bag and slipped Aithusa inside. “I need you to stay hidden, Aithusa,” he whispered to the creature and felt twin sharp teeth nip his hand. Merlin sighed and drew his hand back. “Yah, yah I’ll find you something to eat.” With another sigh he rose, grabbing the bag and looping it over his shoulder before walking back to Camelot.

At Gaius’s chambers, he slipped the door closed and finally breathed a deep sigh of relief. He’s made it this far. He was just about to call out to Gaius when the flap on his bag opened and Aithusa jumped out, landing on Merlin’s shoulder with small claws dragging into his skin. Merlin squeaked in pain. The sharp cry drew Gaius’s attention to him.

“Merlin…” Gaius began and caught sight of Aithusa. His hand flew up to his chest and he exclaimed, “Merlin, what are you doing bringing the dragonling back here! This is ridiculous, even for you!” His rant was stopped by the look of fear on Merlin’s face, the uncertainty in his overly bright eyes, and the shadow of terror written all over his face.

“Well, sit down, Merlin, and tell me what happened,” Gaius said darkly, indicating the table.

Merlin slowly lowered himself into a seat, and Aithusa jumped to the tabletop. Walking over to Gaius, he sat down and nipped at his finger before sneezing. Gaius looked at her with startled eyes. Merlin wanted to laugh, partly because of nerves and partly out of hilarity. Aithusa shook her head and sneezed at Gaius again before walking over the table and trying to eat the objects on it. Merlin began to explain what had transpired in the woods with Kilgharrah and the egg.

“So you see, Gaius, I don’t have a choice,” Merlin finished. He looked over at Gaius. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Did the dragon say how it is going to hide?” Gaius asked.

Before Merlin could even open his mouth to speak, the door flew open and Arthur stormed in.

“MERLIN!” he thundered and froze, looking at Gaius and Merlin sitting at the table. He blinked slowly at them. “Gaius, why do you have a cat on your table?”

“It was injured, sire, and Merlin brought it here,” Gaius stated smoothly without pause. Though he did raise an eyebrow at Merlin. Who had looked at Aithusa and mouthed ‘cat’?! As if Arthur had gone insane.

“Never mind that,” Arthur said dismissively and turned his gaze back to Merlin, “you must prepare provisions for a week’s journey; we are going to render aid to an outlying village. There was a fire that destroyed the majority of their homes and crops. They sent an envoy last night and we must hurry.” Arthur turned to leave, then stopped. “Oh, and Merlin…”

“Yes, sire?” Merlin asked nervously.

“Leave the cat.” With that Arthur left. Merlin sighed in relief.

“Cat?” Merlin asked what he’d been wondering as he looked at Aithusa, who was busy trying to eat a bowl, and sneezing.

“Well, that explains how it’s hidden itself. I will see what I can do to find out what information I can before you leave,” Gaius offered.

Merlin nodded, thankful. “Thanks, Gaius,” he whispered as he rose and headed out of the room to go to the kitchen.

Aithusa jumped off the table and took off after Merlin, following him along the hallways. Merlin made it to the kitchen quickly and found the head cook.

“Merlin,” the plump woman said with a fond smile. “What can I do for you today?”

A sharp mewing interrupting what Merlin was about to say as Aithusa pounced onto the nearest counter and started to nip at the cooked chicken sitting in a plate, tearing off huge strips and gobbling it down before tearing off another strip. Aithusa was thrumming happily and Merlin couldn’t help but smile fondly until he caught sight of the cook’s wide, startled eyes.

“I’m sorry!” he called, but she waved him off with a smile of her own.

“Don’t worry about it, Merlin. Just keep your cat from tearing apart my kitchen,” the women said as she regarded the creature eating the chicken. “And do make sure it gets rid of the rats in the castle,” she added as a gentle warning. “Now, now, what can I do for you?”

“I have to get provisions for a week’s long journey for Arthur and the Knights,” Merlin said, though he didn’t meet the cook’s eyes. Instead, he watched Aithusa to insure she didn’t eat anything else or cause any more mischief.

“Of course, come back in about an hour and I will have everything ready for you,” the woman said kindly.

Merlin walked over to Aithusa and scooped her up. A disagreeable hiss sounded. Merlin regarded the dragon that glared at him, terribly upset at being dragged away from her meal.

“Oh, go on. Take the plate and feed that howling beast so it’ll shut it,” the cook said good-naturally, taking the plate and handing it to him. “It’s not like we can feed that to anyone else, after all.”

Merlin thanked her, letting the small dragon climb out of his hand and into the plate as he sighed and headed out of the kitchen, towards the king’s chambers. So far, Aithusa wasn’t causing much trouble. For which Merlin was grateful. Aithusa resumed eating as Merlin walked towards Arthur’s chambers, making a list of what he’d need to pack. As he neared the room, he noted that Aithusa was crunching on the bones. Well, at least she would be consuming the whole thing, Merlin thought with a sigh.

He opened the door and set the plate and dragon down onto the floor. He started getting Arthur’s clothing sorted, mumbling to himself as he did. He was just finishing up when the door opened with a bang and a shout made him turn quickly.

“MERLIN, what in the world happened here?! Did a hoard of horses stampede through my chambers?” Arthur’s dark voice grumbled from the doorway.

Merlin looked around the room, gaping. Everything was spilled out of cupboards and the bedding was torn and scattered about the floor. The bowls and pillows were a mess. Feathers floated in the air. The room was trashed – furniture broken, keys and jewels scattered.

“Wha…” Merlin began, when Aithusa jumped onto the mattress and began to claw at it, purring and coiling in a circle.

“MERLIN!” Arthur thundered.

“I’m sorry…” Merlin began. But Arthur raised a hand and Aithusa sneezed before pouncing off the mattress and onto the floor in a cloud of feathers, sneezing again.

“Clean this mess up, Merlin,” Arthur ordered darkly, “or I will have you in the stocks for six years!” He paused. “Oh, and Merlin, have it done by nightfall. I want an early night, we ride out a dawn.” With that Arthur left, closing the door behind him.

Merlin sighed. Growling, he walked around the room. “Aithusa, really?!” He shook his head as he began to clean up the mess the dragon had made.

—  — —  —

Merlin stood up after putting the last of the items back in its place. He looked up as the door opened and Arthur stood in the doorway, gazing at the room.

“Well that’s better,” Arthur declared. “So you can do something right, after all. Do you have everything ready for tomorrow?”

“No,” Merlin began and stopped as Arthur raised his hand.

“We’ll get to it then,” Arthur demanded and finished coming into his chambers, going to his desk as Merlin sighed and started picking up where he’d left off gathering the clothing.

Arthur sat down slowly at the desk and started reading through the papers, picking through the fruit that sat in a tray on his desk. He heard a thrumming purr and looked down to see Merlin’s cat coiling around his chair. He sighed and looked over to Merlin who was grumbling to himself as he worked. Arthur smirked and reached down, picking up the cat. He started as he set the creature on his lap. Its claws sank into his skin like tiny needles, and he frowned at it. It didn’t quite feel right. All bumpy under thick fur. He had a moment to wonder just what kind of cat this was when he realized it had probably just been starved.

“You should feed your cat more, Merlin, it’s all skin and bones!” Arthur said. “And clearly hungry since it keeps trying to eat my shirt.”

Merlin had to stifle a laugh as he looked at Aithusa nibbling at Arthur’s shirt and sneezing. Merlin gave a nod, not trusting himself to speak and perhaps break out into uncontrollable giggles at the sight of Arthur petting the small dragon on his lap. Merlin had just finished packing the last of Arthur’s clothing and was turning around to ask if there was anything else Arthur needed.

Aithusa sneezed and a small flame shot out of his nose, catching Arthur’s shirt on fire. Arthur felt the heat and shouted, standing up and startling the small dragon. Merlin grabbed the pitcher of water from the table and threw it at Arthur, who spluttered as the water soaked into his shirt, drenching the prince but putting out the small fire. Aithusa was hissing where she’d fallen to the table, her claws tearing into the paper and her body lengthening as she spread her wings and sneezed small bursts of fire at Arthur.

“Merlin, your cat’s a dragon?!” Arthur sputtered. He looked shocked.

“Umm…” Merlin gaped at Arthur with wide eyes, taking a step back, suddenly feeling like he had to protect Aithusa. He shielded her slightly with her body, even as smoke coiled up from the burning paper. Her claws raking the wood as she hissed at Arthur. Her body coiling as she jumped and landed onto Merlin’s shoulder, sneezing flames at Arthur.

“GUARDS!” Arthur shouted.

Merlin backed up quickly. Grabbing Aithusa into his arms and cradling her against his chest. “Arthur please!” he begged.

“Take him to the dungeon,” Arthur declared as two guards came into his room.

Merlin whispered his plea again, but he didn’t release his hold on Aithusa even as he was being pulled away. Startled, only vaguely aware that Arthur hadn’t ordered the death of the small creature in his arms. Merlin was pulled by both guards down the hall and into the lowest reaches of the castle before being thrown into the cell. The very cell where he’d been sitting, contemplating how he was going to get out of this one.

He regarded the tiny creature. He was tasked with teaching her, raising her, protecting her. And yet he was destined to create Albion with Arthur. How could it be that he would die for harbouring a dragon? He closed his eyes and felt tears gathering in his eyes.

Arthur walked down the stone steps and stared at the young man cradling a dragon in his arms. He shook his head. He couldn’t believe that his blubbering servant would cradle a dragon. Of all the things he’d have ever suspected.

“What am I going to do with you, Merlin?” Arthur growled, shaking his head.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked, blinking up into the torchlight illuminating the king.

“Do you realize what you’ve done, Merlin?” Arthur demanded.

“I don…” Merlin began, but Arthur’s angry voice cut him off.

“You’ve brought a dragon into Camelot, Merlin. You’ve betrayed me. All these years, Merlin. I thought I could trust you!” Arthur angrily declared.

“I haven’t…” Merlin began again, but Arthur continued.

“You will be banished from Camelot. It’s the only mercy I can offer you, Merlin. That… thing will be executed.” Arthur said, turning away.

“Arthur, you can’t,” Merlin said, rising to his feet. “Please.”

“I can, Merlin. You forget that I am your king!” Arthur all but thundered angrily.

Merlin grabbed the bars of his prison and glared. “You prat! She can’t do any harm! You can’t kill her. Please, Arthur. I’m begging you!”

“You can’t guarantee that, Merlin. That thing will grow up one day and you remember what the last dragon did to Camelot! We have no choice. It has to die.” Arthur declared darkly.

“Arthur, please,” Merlin begged. “I can guarantee it, I can. Just please spare her.”

“How, Merlin?” Arthur demanded and Merlin stared at him, undecided.

Arthur looked at him with cold dark eyes. Anger twisted his face, but there was something – something that Merlin could barely see, and it made his decision for him.

“Because I am the last dragonlord, Arthur,” Merlin whispered. “Balinor was my father.”

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, glaring at Merlin. Realization that he should have known all along began to dawn on the man. The tears Merlin had shared. His moodiness before and after. The fact Arthur had been sure he’d missed the dragon, then seeing Merlin standing there unscathed, telling him he’d dealt a mortal blow to the beast. Never finding a corpse. It all made sense. And it made Arthur furious. He turned from Merlin and stormed out of the dungeons.

Merlin watched the torch recede, plunging him back into semi-darkness, and sighed. He slowly returned to the wall, and sitting down against it, he watched the small dragon crawling off his lap and onto the floor. Wondering if this was the moment when Albion began or if he’d just condemned himself to death with his words.

—  — —  —

Arthur regarded his knights. All of whom he trusted. He was alone with them in a secret meeting not even his uncle Agravaine knew about. Arthur regarded them. Leon, Elyan, Gwaine, Lancelot, and Percival. All the faithful men who’d been loyal to him through many things.

“I have grave news to discuss with you. Sit,” Arthur stated indicating his table. He waited for everyone to sit before he continued. “Merlin is in the dungeons. He is harbouring a dragonling and he has admitted that he is a dragonlord. I was prepared to exile Merlin, but in light of this the laws are clear. Merlin must be put to death.”

“Sire, perhaps…” Leon began slowly before stopping. He hesitated. He had been there before Arthur’s birth, before the purge; he had not agreed with Uther on this, but he couldn’t contest Uther’s decision. He let his words die at the look of anger on Arthur’s face.

“You. Are. An. Absolute. Idiot!” Gwaine declared, snapping each word at Arthur. “Merlin has been a loyal friend for years and you’d burn him just because of how he was born?!”

“Magic is outlawed in Camelot, Gwaine. Need I remind you?” Arthur growled darkly.

“Maybe this kind of magic shouldn’t be?” Lancelot said hesitantly. “You said that Merlin was the last of his kind, right? I mean, there are no other dragonlords, so really you’d just be sparing Merlin’s life.”

“I cannot undo my father’s laws, Lancelot,” Arthur sighed. No matter how much he’d like to, he knew he couldn’t. Magic was evil. Wasn’t it?

“You already have, Arthur,” Elyan pointed out softly.

Arthur spun on him. “How so?”  

“You knighted commoners, sire,” Leon pointed out, “something your father never would have done. You are courting a servant and plan to make her your queen.”

“All of that is different,” Arthur started.

“No, pretty sure it’s not, princess,” Gwaine shot at Arthur.

“We’re talking about Merlin,” Percival said so quietly that everyone stopped talking and gazed at him. “Merlin, who has placed himself in harm’s way time and time again. He has come with us on every quest, when he cannot fight with sword as we can. He is no knight and yet he faces all the same dangers we do. Tell me, sire, does that sound like someone you should fear? Someone who thinks only of themselves and power?”

“No, but that is his duty,” Arthur stated.

“Yet, no servant followed you into the dangers Merlin has,” Lancelot countered. “He was not ordered to do so on many occasion and yet he faced grave peril alongside you. He has earned our friendship in more ways than one. Think, Arthur. Magic is a tool; like your sword, it can be used for good or for evil. It is not in itself a corruptive force. Surely you know that, deep down. Think of all the times Merlin could have harmed you, and yet instead he sacrificed himself for you!”

Arthur went to speak, but stopped as he gazed at the faces around him. At Gwaine’s dark scowl. At Percival’s knowledgeable eyes and blank expression, at Leon’s thoughtful face, At Elyan’s concerned frown and Lancelot’s heated gaze. Arthur began to think about their words. He let his mind slowly pour over all the times when Merlin had faced dangers, all the times Camelot was saved by ‘luck’ that now he saw wasn’t really luck. All the times they’d escaped disaster and Merlin had some strange excuse or he was in some strange location.

He shook his head. “We will have a trial for him. If Merlin has used his powers for harm, then he will face the same charges as all sorcerers must,” Arthur said, rising. “His dragon must die.”

“If Merlin really is a dragonlord, sire, the dragon poses no threat so long as Merlin lives,” Leon said gently.

“You would have me spare the dragon?” Arthur asked, startled.

“I do not wish to speak ill of your father, sire; he was a great king,” Leon stated.

“But?” Arthur pressed.

“But what he did caused the Great Dragon’s troubles with Camelot. Before the beast was imprisoned, it did not bother with Camelot or any other village. It might have stolen some sheep, burned some fields, but it did not cause unnecessary destruction. It certainly had no quarrel with our realm. The dragonlords of old lived freely in Camelot as members of its court and thereby insured that all of Camelot and her people received protection and coexistence with the dragons.” Leon continued, “It wasn’t until the dragonlords were amongst the first to be accused of magic and many were the first to burn for sorcery. The start of the purge is when the dragons began to attack. Retaliation for the death of the dragonlords. It is said of dragons that they are like kin. Now, seeing Merlin with the dragon, it is evident why that happened. Had Uther spared the dragonlords, the dragons would not have attacked Camelot. Arthur, do not make the same mistakes your father made.”

“The purge was not a mistake, sorcery is evil,” Arthur replied.

“Sire, I know you do not wish to hear this, but I fear you must,” Leon pressed.

“Then speak,” Arthur said.

“Your father began the purge because of your mother’s death,” Leon said sadly.

“What do you know about that?” Arthur demanded, rising. Anger lacing his words again.

“I do not know much more than that, sire, but one who might is Gaius,” Leon said.

“Then I shall speak with him,” Arthur stated, leaving the room. The others looked uneasy as he left.

Gwaine glanced around at the others. He wasn’t one to keep quiet on his thoughts and now was no different. He rose and started pacing. “If the princess insists on executing Merlin, I will not stand by and watch it,” he exclaimed.

“Gwaine,” Leon started, but the man whirled on him and glowered darkly.

Gwaine pointed one hand at him. “I only joined this group because of Merlin. Yes, I’ve come to see King Arthur in a new light, the way Merlin sees him. That doesn’t matter, though; if the princess kills my friend, then he’ll have lost all the respect I have for him!”  

“Gwaine, you are not the only one who owes Merlin a debt,” Lancelot stated to his friend, “but this will help no one.”

“What else would you have me do?” Gwaine demanded.

—  — —  —

Arthur pushed open the door to Gaius’s rooms. “GAIUS?” he called out as he entered.

“What do you want, sire?” Gaius said, his face impassive, but Arthur could see the pain in his eyes. The fear.

“I have some questions for you,” Arthur stated. “Sit Gaius, please.”

“Will you let Merlin go?” Gaius asked, not unkindly, but his voice bore an edge of cold steel.

“I cannot say, Gaius, but if you answer these questions honestly, I might be able to do that,” Arthur said softly. “I need answers, Gaius. I know you care a great deal about Merlin, but he’s a sorcerer.”  

“Warlock, actually,” Gaius said, frowning.

“Pardon?” Arthur asked.

“Merlin is a warlock, he’s not a sorcerer,” Gaius elaborated. His tone still sharp.

“There’s a difference?” Arthur asked.

“A warlock is born with magic, a sorcerer learned magic,” Gaius continued.

“So a dragonlord is always a warlock?” Arthur inquired, rather intrigued.

“No, a dragonlord is something entirely different,” Gaius stated. “A sorcerer is a person with or without a gift or penchant for magic who learns enchantments and spells, either from a teacher or a book. A dragonlord is the son of a lineage who is kin to the dragons. Some believe that they were first created by a sorceress of a mortal female and dragon’s blood. Now the lineages are passed from father to son. A warlock is a child born of magic, born of two mortal parents, yes, but essentially a warlock is as much magic as a man.”

“So Merlin is both a dragonlord and a warlock?” Arthur asked.

“Yes,” Gaius finished.

“We can’t execute him twice. A dragonlord is as guilty of magic as a warlock, so it doesn’t matter,” Arthur said waving his hand.

“Very well, sire,” Gaius said darkly. “What question do you have?”

“You knew my father before the purge, correct?” Arthur asked. Gaius nodded. “You knew my mother as well?” Arthur continued. Gaius nodded wondering where this was going. “Do you know why my father started the purge?”

“Arthur, there are some things Uther did not want you to know,” Gaius said gently.

“I need to know, Gaius.  Leon says that my mother’s death was the cause of my father’s hatred for magic. If that’s true, I need to know why. Why did my mother’s death cause the purge? Was she enchanted? Did a sorcerer kill her?”  

Gaius sighed. “No Arthur. You must understand, magic can be used for evil or for good. There are rules, Arthur, just like for everything in life – there is balance. Igraine was unable to conceive. Uther needed an heir, but he loved your mother too much to give her up and remarry. He asked the priestess Nimueh for help. She gave him a potion and told him to have Igraine drink it on the night you were conceived. Nimueh told him there would be a price, but she did not specify that price would be Igraine’s life. When a life is given one must be taken, that is the way of such magic. Everyone knew that, including Uther. After she gave birth, Igraine died and Uther blamed Nimueh.”

“It was her fault,” Arthur stated. He drew in a breath at Gaius’s disappointed look. “Did my mother know?” he said after a pause.

“I believe she did; she was a follower of the old ways, Arthur. She believed magic could be a powerful ally. She knew the cost and willingly accepted it. It was Uther who couldn’t,” Gaius said gently.

“Nimueh could have chosen another to pay the price!” Arthur said darkly. “She didn’t have to take my mother’s life!”

“Arthur, would you have an innocent life lost so your mother could live?” Gaius asked him.

“No, of course not,” Arthur said after a long pause.

“Igraine knew the cost and willingly took the potion.  Arthur, she chose to give her life so that you could be born,” Gaius said gently. “When magic is used to serve one’s own gains, then it can corrupt, just like power can corrupt. How a noble treats his servants is a sign of the man’s honour, just like when magic is used for good and for others, not for one’s gain. That is the sign of true power. Merlin has never used his magic for his own gain, Arthur. He uses it for you, for the kingdom he believes in.”

“Gaius, what would you have me do?” Arthurs asked. “I cannot just turn a blind eye.”

“You can begin to show change, Arthur. Your father banned all magic, but you could show that you are a better king. Allow those who use magic for the good of all to be free to use it, but those who use it for evil purposes should be met with the fate that now stands. Use justice as your standard, Arthur. Show justice equally to all your people, for those with magic are your people as well as those without. The druids know this; that is why they accept all who join them.” Gaius said.

The words reminded Arthur of his childhood when he was tutored by Gaius and Geoffrey. “Thank you, Gaius, you have given me much to think about,” he said, rising. Gaius nodded and watched him leave.

Arthur made his way back to his room. He hesitated at the door, wondering if the knights had left his chambers yet or not. With a sigh determined to cast them out if they hadn’t, he pushed the door open and found his chambers empty. He walked over to his window and gazed out at the darkened sky of Camelot.

—  — —  —

Arthur looked down at the scene in front of him. He couldn’t help the small smile that turned his lips. Merlin was sprawled on the straw, curled around the tiny dragon for warmth. Sound asleep. Merlin was on his back. His knees to one side and his head to the other. He looked hardly comfortable at all. The small dragon was on his chest, and each breath kept stirring Merlin’s hair. Soot covered Merlin’s face, and both were making a chuffing sound in their sleep.

“Merlin,” Arthur called out. Merlin’s head shifted and he moved slightly, uncurling his legs and shifting away from Arthur, sending the dragon sprawling. It hissed out angrily before making its way back to curl up next to Merlin. “MERLIN!” Arthur yelled.

Merlin started and sat upright turning to face him. “Arthur?” he asked groggily. The small dragon crawled up his back, making him squirmy before it settled on his shoulder.

“Many of your friends have said I should spare your life, Merlin, and the life of that creature. They tell me that you’ve used your powers only for me. Now that I don’t understand,” Arthur said. “How can it be that a sorcerer would choose to fight for me? What did you have to gain, Merlin?”

“Everything, Arthur. I had everything to gain. I knew that one day when you were king you would bring a time of peace and prosperity. It is your destiny, our destiny. We are two halves of a coin, according to Kilgharrah.” Merlin said, not knowing what else to say.

“I don’t understand you, Merlin.” Arthur sighed, took the key from his belt, and slowly unlocked the dungeon door. “I want to hear about every time you’ve used magic, Merlin, in detail.” With those words, Arthur pulled the door open and regarded Merlin.

“Do you have a couple of days?” Merlin asked, giving Arthur a wide smile as he rose to his feet and stepped out into the hallway to stand next to him.

This marked the day Albion began. A change for the better. A chance for a new beginning.

~ END ~