Famine

For an almighty being such as he: Kilgharrah, or the Great Dragon to the rest of the world, he found that being stuck in a giant cave was more boring than anything else. The food that he managed to catch and eat, mostly bats and various other rodents, might not have been his ideal choice, (would it really be so bad for someone to bring some real food to his dwelling?) but at least it was in plentiful supply, and there was a lake in the cave that he could drink from whenever he so desired, but really, there was no surge of adrenaline or thrill of hunting to be had while chained up inside this miserable place.

So boredom was the main thing that he felt.

If and when the young warlock known as Merlin freed him, the first thing he'd do after getting his revenge on Uther, the Dragon promised himself, was go on a lengthy hunt, and actually catch some real food.

Speaking of the young warlock, the Dragon mused to himself, he hadn't shown up for his usual 'there's a crisis and I don't know what to do, being a human and all'. Actually, make that he'd missed his last two crises, since for some reason; the Gods seemed to get some strange pleasure out of making the trials of Camelot a weekly occurrence. And no-one else appeared to have noticed this strange phenomenon, much to his secret amusement. And Merlin wondered why he was never surprised at his arrival. Maybe he should reveal this to the human…

Nah; let the young warlock think that his draconic advisor was all-knowing.

Besides, he wasn't surprised that the young warlock was avoiding him. He'd made it very clear to Merlin that saying he was unhappy with him was akin to saying that Uther was only mildly miffed at magic.

What the Great Dragon hadn't expected was how much it had hurt to have Merlin break his trust as he had. He should have foreseen it; Merlin was human, despite being potentially the most powerful warlock in history, so of course chances were he wouldn't hold true to his word.

Excalibur had been used by the man that Kilgharrah hated more than anything, after stressing just how powerful the sword was and how only the Once and Future King was to use it.

And not only had Uther put his filthy hands on the sword, he'd used it to save his own life, albeit, unknowing that the sword was the only reason he'd survived. Merlin should have used his magic to do away with the wretched king, but no, he knowingly let Uther wield Excalibur.

The result was that he'd shouted and raged and cursed Merlin for not keeping a promise that the Dragon knew in hindsight should have been taken with a pinch of salt, as the humans say.

Naturally the young Merlin would try to avoid coming to the Dragon, though it was inevitable that he would come back to him, like a scorned child to their parents. Besides, just because he could manage a crisis or two without help didn't mean that suddenly he was able to act independently; he was still too inexperienced with the various magics in the world and how they were being used against Camelot.

Lo' and behold, clearly there was something happening to Camelot this instant, the Dragon could feel the powerful magic covering not just the castle, but the entire realm. Either a very powerful sorcerer was currently taking a stab at the 'let's kill Uther and/or Arthur and maybe anybody unlucky enough to be nearby' that everybody who could use magic seemed to be queuing up for (the Dragon considered himself to be somewhere in that queue) or somebody had triggered a powerful curse.

Unfortunately, he couldn't sense just what this magic was actually doing, so while waiting for Merlin's inevitable arrival, he busied himself with thinking up a riddle for the warlock that would sound full of ancient wisdom, be confusing enough for the young warlock, and all the while be secretly telling him that no, he didn't know what to do to sort this mess out, and he can go work it out himself for once, thank you so very much.

Not that Merlin would ever work that out. For the hope of all that is magical, the young warlock really wasn't that bright.

A shimmering caught the Dragon's attention, and he directed his gaze to his underground lake, the only source of water he had.

'Oh, you've got to be kidding me.' The Dragon moaned aloud, watching as his water supply turned to sand before his very eyes.

And unfortunately, the magic used was powerful enough that even Kilgharrah couldn't undo it, and the lack of available water suddenly made him very aware of just how dry his throat was at the moment.

Merlin had better sort this out, and quickly. Seeing as it had managed to directly affect the Dragon, a rare occurrence considering how he was usually able to at least shroud himself from whatever had befallen the rest of Camelot. Kilgharrah wanted this fixed; where this may have been vaguely amusing before, the fact it decided to lump him in with the rest of Camelot made it decidedly un-amusing. In fact, had he the knowledge of how, he'd even give it to the young warlock without the customary riddle.

Looking around the cavern, the Dragon decided to look for a bat or two to eat. Maybe the blood of the flying rodents would help him forget about how he was going to go without a drink for who knows how long.

Ten minutes later, he was howling in disbelief as he learnt that the water wasn't the only thing that he was lacking.


The next day, there was no change in the cavern, unless one counted the Great Dragon, a noble and dignified creature, holding his tongue out under a stalactite, eager for just one of the drips that usually annoyed him.

Regrettably, the curse which had turned his water to sand and made his food supply vanish was even enough to override the curse that was the rhythmic dripping from the many stalactites that adorned the ceiling of his cavern. The Dragon never thought he'd see the day, but he was upset at the lack of dripping. Usually the constant dripping was an irritant, but now it just signified that there truly was no water.

A deep rumbling sounded out and suddenly the Dragon was glad that people rarely visited him. He was supposed to be a noble and proud creature; having someone hear his stomach complaining at the lack of food would be most embarrassing.

As soon as this curse was lifted, Kilgharrah vowed, he would actually eat meals at regular intervals, rather than wait until the last second. Binge eating wasn't healthy in a place susceptible to famine and drought curses.


Halfway through day three, the Great Dragon relinquished his considerable self control to give a loud whoop as he watched his lake turn back into water again.

As soon as the lake had fully returned to normal, the dragon dived into the water, taking long gulps and enjoying the feeling of the water that he'd previously taken for granted washing up against his scales.

'I never knew water could taste so good.' The Dragon sighed blissfully; unknowingly mimicking the words that Author Pendragon was speaking at that exact same moment.


Day four, Merlin finally decided to show up.

Kilgharrah had promised himself that he'd act morally outraged and offended at the young warlock over the Excalibur incident, but as it was, he was too busy trying to stop his stomach from announcing, very loudly, just how hungry the Dragon was.

He didn't have the energy to act even remotely annoyed at the warlock; it was all that he could do to lay on his perch and remember his carefully prepared riddle.

'Ah, so you have co…'

'No need for your riddle today.' Merlin cut off the Dragon, who gaped at the human in shock.

Never before had someone cut the Great Dragon off while he was speaking. Not even Uther Pendragon had dared to do such, and yet this wide eyed boy had just done so without a second thought.

Merlin was either very brave, or very stupid.

'I already know the cause.' Merlin continued, eying the cavern, searching for something.

'Oh?' The Dragon asked, interested, despite himself.

Who wouldn't be interested in knowing why they were starving.

'Arthur went and killed a unicorn.'

The Dragon blinked, stared at Merlin for a couple of seconds before blinking again.

'I'm starving because the young Pendragon foolishly went and killed a unicorn?'

''Fraid so.' Merlin shrugged, continuing to look for something.

It took all of Kilgharrah's self control not to slam his head into a wall in frustration. Of all the reasons that he had to starve: a unicorn? Not that he had anything against them, but really? Who wanted to be told that they were suffering because of one of the so-called pure-hearted unicorns?

The Dragon snorted at the thought that any living creature could truly be called pure-hearted.

'So when will he be taking his second test?' The Dragon finally asked, guessing that the first test had been passed, seeing as he had his water supply back.

'He failed it.' Merlin sighed. 'I'm planning on finding Anhora and getting him to give Arthur a second chance.'

'And you felt the need to come tell me this?' The Dragon asked, raising an eyebrow ridge.

'No…' Merlin shook his head, finally looking at the Dragon.

'Then for what purpose did you deign fit to enter my lair?'

'I came down here hoping to find a bat or something. I'm starving.'

The Great Dragon sighed, his head meeting the stone of his perch.

'There are no bats. They've all been gone since this curse began. I'm starving as much as you.'

The warlock snorted a 'doubtful' under his breath, which the Dragon ignored, being the bigger being, both physically and metaphorically.

'The sooner you convince this Anhora to let the young Pendragon retake the test, the sooner you will get to eat food better suited for your tastes.'

'I can barely think straight, I'm so hungry. I need something to make sure I can think well enough to not say the wrong thing.'

'Will you stop complaining? If you need to focus your thoughts, I recommend the art that you humans refer to as meditating.'

'Look, I've had to drink my bathwater!' Merlin complained. 'I think I'm entitled to a little complaining, don't you?'

The Dragon flinched in disgust.

'Too much information, young warlock.' He uttered. 'Besides which, a unicorn's curse is powerful enough that no, I can't protect even myself from the effects, so there is no food of any kind within my lair, and until recently, nor was there any water either. I am hungry enough, that you look rather delicious, and it is taking considerable self-restraint to stop myself from feasting.'

Merlin vanished up the flight of stairs, taking the Dragon's word as gospel, despite the fact that Kilgharrah wouldn't have eaten the warlock even if he'd been made to suffer through a famine curse for over a year.

He had too much to lose.


Day five and Kilgharrah found himself awoken from his slumber, which had been filled with visions of many deer just walking into has waiting maw.

It took a couple of seconds for his foggy mind to register just what had awoken him. The sound of wings, lots of wings flapping, the sound of which echoed throughout the cavern; was preventing him from his no longer desired sleep.

Wings translated into bats.

Bats translated into food.

Food translated into a soon to be no longer empty stomach for Kilgharrah.

Five days of hell were finally over, now if the young Warlock could prevent this sort of thing from ever happening again, the Dragon would consider never forcing said Warlock to work out his riddles again.

Ah, who was he kidding. Those riddles were about the only entertainment that Kilgharrah had these days. Though it would be entertaining to see just how unnerved Merlin would be if the next time he visited there was no riddle. He'd likely wonder whether something was going on to prompt such an occurrence. Food for thought...