Title: Freedom.
Rating: PG at most.
Summary: One shot, future fic wherein Merlin frees the Great Dragon and finds the courage to share his secret with Arthur. Dragon's POV. This was meant to be a drabble but it ran away from me just a little.
Warnings/Spoilers: If you are offended by the idea of same sex relationships then please jog on..
Word Count: 499
Disclaimer: This incarnation of Merlin, Arthur, and all associated entities are the property of the BBC and Shine. I'm just playing with them in an attempt to avoid washing dishes. No money is being made from this, no matter how much I wish it were.
Un-beta'd, please feel free to point any mistakes.
~oOo~
Sometimes, Merlin conjures the dragon from the depths of the earth beneath the castle; a tiny manifestation of the great beasts usual self, that flies free in the safety of a forest miles away from home.
In the beginning the dragon is disturbed by his size, furious that his actions are inconsequential in this form, and wonders if Merlin feels this same overwhelming intimidation when their positions are reversed and he is the one looming above the young man like the giant he really is. Soon enough he thanks Merlin for these moments of freedom, as fleeting as they are, and faithfully hovers a few feet above the young warlock's head, content to just follow as they meander through the dense woods. They speak of Camelot's future, of Uther's declining health and of Arthur's inevitable rise to the throne. And always, always, of Merlin's yearning to tell Arthur all of his secrets.
The dragon begins to look forward to the shiver that runs through his massive body when Merlin speaks the words that call him forth. The cold iron tethers vanish from his limbs and his heart sings as his surroundings suddenly shift, his eyes close quickly against the ever startling brightness of the mid day sun and he finally has the space to stretch his tired wings as wide as they will go.
When he opens his eyes this time, however, it isn't Merlin looking down upon him but Arthur, inspiring a rush of fear that he hasn't felt in a long time to flash through every fibre of his being. He rears back on his hind legs and growls low in his belly, furious in the knowledge that even as he does it, it is at best an impotent gesture.
"Be careful, he bites. And I wouldn't get too close if I were you," Merlin laughs nervously, trying to judge Arthur's reaction to the presence of a dragon in the palm of his hand. "Not unless you want to get your eyebrows singed off, anyway."
But then Arthur smiles defiantly and tentatively strokes a finger down the length of the dragon's spine as though stroking a beloved pet, his eyes wide in fascination. Whether that fascination is born from the sight of the dragon himself, or at the revelation of what Merlin is capable of, he has no idea, but he is immediately filled with joy at the knowledge that one day soon his sentence will end. That magic will set the earth aglow once more and that he and Merlin, and many others like them, will be free to be themselves at last.
The dragon allows Arthur his moment of intrigue, and Merlin a moment of pride, before spreading his wings and barking a small blast of fire into the air as he takes flight, darting merrily through the branches of the tree high above and making the leaves rain down gently on the two young men laughing and embracing each other tightly on the ground.