If You're Still Breathing, You're the Lucky Ones.
The Last Dragonlord AU, because Merlin deserves some fucking happiness in his life. T for swearing and BAMF parents. AKA: that one where Balinor doesn't die, and Dragonlord inheritance show up when the kid turns 21. Also, not-totally-depressing-Freylin! Merlin whumpage. Protective!Balinor and Hunith. Enjoy!
One: If You're Still Bleeding, You're the Lucky Ones.
Merlin could see his father—that still felt strange—moving to protect him. He knew, in that moment, only a few things: his father was a Dragonlord, a dragon was attacking Camelot, it was his fault, his father would die if he didn't do something, he couldn't let that happen, and he had less than two seconds to decide what to do about it. So Merlin shoved Balinor roughly to the side as the mercenary's blade shoved through his abdomen. He felt no pain, just a strange sense of pressure-hot-cold-numb-floating-falling. His sight was strangely blurred and distant. He didn't remember hitting the ground, but there was the scent of wet leaves and warm, live earth filling his nostrils.
"Ah," thought Merlin, "this place would have been good for farmland." As he watched his own blood spill over the ground where in another life he would have sought to grow crops, he distantly heard his father scream in rage and pain, several thuds, Arthur—Arthur?—crying out, frightened, "Merlin! Oh, god, Merlin!" His father's strong, worn hands cradled his face; his father's eyes swam into focus as Merlin attempted a pained smile.
"Don't worry, son. Everything's going to be alright now. I-it's going to be alright, I just need you to stay awake for me. You hear me? You stay with me, Merlin. Stay with me." There was a sharp tug on the blade lodged in his side, and something that sounded a lot like Gaius' voice tells him that's not a good idea, that it has something to do with blood loss, but he can't think properly because ithurtsithurtsgoddessithurtssomuch. All pain, no pressure. He let out a garbled howl that sounded more like a wounded beast than anything resembling a human being.
There was a tearing noise that vaguely registered somewhere in the recesses of his tortured brain, and then his father growled something angrily, something he can't quite make out. Arthur's reply, whatever it was, is mired in confusion and shock. And then there was golden light, in his father's eyes, swirling around him in a glorious dance of light and shadow.
The pain is gone, but the shadows deepened and swallowed him whole, greedily dragging him down to their belly, where the ghosts of all that might have been rose up and looked upon him with pity and scorn, this fallen creature whom some call monster, some call demon, some traitor, some friend, some warlock, some Emrys. Only two of the ghosts call him son. These two cradled him in their arms and begged him in broken tongues to wake up. He resisted, afraid. Then another ghost, one who calls him friend, begged him too, and he stopped resisting, though he is still afraid. Then everything twists and a ghost in a red dress smiled at him as she walked up to him. She placed a kiss on his forehead, slipping a rose in his hand as she does. "Come, my love," she said. "Time to wake up." And Merlin thought, right before he opened his eyes to a new morning, that out of all the ghosts, he liked her best.
A/N: So, there's the first bit! Yay me! Oh, and in case that last part was confusing, poor Merls went a little delirious due to blood loss. Idk if that happens in real life or not, but I am pretending it does for this story. Kay? Kay.