[Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin...or Arthur. I'd like to own Arthur...can you blame me?
A/N: Set after season 2.]
Of Dreams & Dragons
or How Merlin Learned To Stop Worrying And Love This Whole Destiny Thing
—
Chapter 1
—
The dreams started two weeks after the Great Dragon flew away from Camelot.
Merlin rather hated the dreams.
The first time he heard the Dragon, an aged voice echoing through his head, he felt tiny and meaningless. And yet the voice spoke like his name meant something, or at least something more than "Merlin, my boots need polishing," or "Merlin, you idiot, where did you leave my chain mail this time?"
The voice spoke like destiny.
"Stupid destiny," Merlin muttered, kicking a rock by his feet. It scuttled forward obediently, careening off the steep ledge.
"Young warlock, I think you'll find destiny to be a blessing," said the Dragon.
"Destiny makes me lie to my closest friend in the world!" Merlin shouted. Only, no, something wasn't right about that, did he just say Arthur was his closest...yes, yes he must have—the Dragon was smirking again.
"Er, not my best friend. Um. No. And certainly not in the whole world, the whole world is a very wide place and where there are better, better and non-prattish people. My best friend is Gwen!" Merlin said.
The Dragon titled his head at Merlin like he was curious, and Merlin wondered if any of that was the least bit convincing.
"It does not matter what you call him, young warlock, you will learn that in due time. Labels are no matter in Destiny; you and Arthur are and will forever be linked as one. Like a coin—"
"Yeah, thanks, I've heard that one before. Why do I even talk to you?"
Merlin rather missed his normal dreams, particularly the recurring one about the midday picnic with Arth...Gwen! His best friend. In the world.
"...and now it is time," the Dragon said, "to reveal yourself to Arthur."
"WHAT?" Merlin asked. The flame in the torch he was holding shot up a few feet.
"Now you must show the prince your deepest truth," the Dragon said. "It is time; A Dark Force is coming that cannot be faced divided."
"I'll be beheaded!" Merlin cried. "You of all people know what Camelot is like!"
"A very dark Force, Merlin. Now, let your prince surprise you-" and suddenly the Dragon smiled, "—or die."
The flames shot downwards this time, and the Dragon grinned on quite merrily as Merlin's sleeve, and then his arm, caught fire.
Merlin awoke screaming.
—
Merlin wondered how to broach the subject. He smiled manically to himself as he made Arthur's bed and imagined that announcement.
"Arthur, guess what?" He attempted. "I'm just a bit magic. You know, in case there's ever a resident sorcerer around out to get you. Which is rather a lot, actually..."
And then he contemplated his body strapped to a pyre and Uther holding the first piece of burning wood.
But he had to tell Arthur, he had no other option. A "Dark Force" certainly sounded ominous...Merlin's brain flickered to the pyre image again, and he felt the flames of the downwards torch in his dream from the night before. He remembered the heat, white and searing...
Which was, naturally, the moment Arthur walked in the room.
"Merlin?" he was saying as he opened the door, "Merlin, do you smell something burnin-"
"MERLIN!" he cried, and threw the pitcher of water left over from breakfast at his servant's burning arm.
"Merlin YOU IDIOT, did you just set yourself on FIRE? It's July, Merlin. I don't need a fire...There isn't even a fire in the fireplace..."
Merlin watched, arm wet and mouth shut as Arthur's expression morphed into the same one he had worn when "Will" destroyed Mercia's men at Ealdor. An expression that always seemed a bit too much like he knew exactly what was going on.
"Merlin, tell me I didn't just see what I think I just saw."
Merlin waited, frozen. Since he wasn't supposed to be making excuses anymore...
"Merlin! Tell me you didn't just do ma... that you...you didn't just..."
Merlin waited until he realized Arthur wouldn't stop sputtering on his own. He coughed a bit, awkwardly, and rubbed his wet arm against his side.
"Arthur, I set my arm on fire. Hah, er, well... I don't think you should see me as a threat to the kingdom."
Arthur barked out a laugh, though he didn't seem at all amused. "No, Merlin, you're just a threat to yourself. What were you thinking, that my father would burn you at the stake for practicing ma...and you decided to save him the trouble?"
"Sire..." Merlin tried.
Arthur walked over to Merlin, and gripped his shoulders. Hard. It kind of hurt.
Not as much as a burning arm, but still.
"Merlin, if my father, or anyone else in the entire castle besides, apparently, me, had caught you just now, you would be a dead man. You can't practice ma...that thing, you CAN'T practice it, not only because you're an utter idiot and you set yourself ON FIRE WITH IT..."
Arthur trailed off, breathing hard and staring at Merlin.
Merlin couldn't help staring back.
Arthur's hand still warm on his shoulder, Merlin took a step towards his prince.
"Why else?" he said quietly.
"Nevermind," Arthur huffed. He let his hands drop from Merlin's shoulders, and spun around to fall back onto his newly-made bed.
"Although as suicide plans go," Arthur mused, "it is fairly involved."
"...Sire?"
"Merlin, do stop saying that word so often...it's unsettling."
Merlin couldn't help wondering if Arthur had suffered a brain injury out on the field today—the prince was acting all out of sorts.
"Not that I'm upset you don't plan to torture me, si—Arthur," Merlin said, "but if you're going to kill me, even eventually, I think I deserve the right to know."
"Of course I'm not going to kill you. Since you're clearly bollocks at you-know-what I'm assuming you won't try this again. So I won't have to sentence you to death!" Arthur shut his eyes. "Percival couldn't seem to keep his sword in his hands today—he was nearly your rival in incompetence on the field. And there have been rumors of another Questing Beast; Father wants me to go search for it in the forest, as soon as possible. In short, I just want to relax and forget this" he gestured to Merlin and the empty fireplace, "ever happened. It's your lucky day, Merlin. I'm not going to sentence you to death; I don't even want to leave my bed. Now, help me out of my armor."
Merlin recited a word of some sort, and immediately Arthur felt lighter and more comfortable. It was almost as if—
He opened his eyes. Merlin was standing innocently, hands held behind his back and his eyes trained on the prince.
"Yes, sire?"
Arthur looked at the pile of armor gleaming like new and arrayed neatly on his wooden table. He sighed.
"This is going to be a bit of a problem, isn't it?"
—
"Well," Merlin said as he magically stoked their campfire (and Arthur pretended he was not watching with intense fascination), "I helped you slay the Questing Beast. Er, the first one."
"Oh. Merlin, this new one might not even be real. It's probably just a rumor."
Merlin thought back to his conversation with the Dragon, about the Dark Force. "Are you sure? And anyway, Arthur, you seem to be missing the part where I saved your life!"
Arthur nodded graciously. "And I saved your life by bringing you the mortaeus flower."
"Remember Sofia? She nearly drowned you. How did you think you survived?"
"Perhaps you're forgetting that I drank our poison in the Labryinth of Gedref!"
"And you've forgotten entirely that you're the reason I was there in the first place!"
Arthur stared at Merlin, who stared straight back.
"Well," Arthur finally said, "I slew the Great Dragon."
Merlin tried not to wince at the pride saturating Arthur's declaration. "Erm…"
"What?"
"Well...I sort-of talk to Dragons. In their own language, I mean. They have to obey. And you were knocked out, so...I told him to go away," Merlin finished sheepishly.
"So you're saying you saved me from the Great Dragon, not the other way around," Arthur said. "...and you did so merely by telling him to leave?" He poked the fast-blazing campfire with a spare stick and tried not to shove the burning branch in Merlin's face.
A prince could only have so much patience with an unfaithful servant, after all.
"It's a bit more complicated—"
"I can't believe you told me I defeated the Dragon!"
"I can't believe you bought it!"
"What was I supposed to think? I wake up, the Dragon is gone, my knights are wounded on the ground, and all I'm left with is my measly little servant who can barely hold a sword!"
"I can hold a sword."
"Merlin. You really can't. In fact," Arthur began to smile, "No matter how mag...how..."
"You're nearly getting there, sire!" Merlin teased.
"Shut up. No matter how, how that you might be, I am still far beyond your equal in battle."
"I'm not sure, Arthur. I beat a dragon. I beat the Great Dragon."
Arthur stared back at his manservant's impish grin, at his high cheekbones highlighted by the flickering fire that had roasted their meal. He thought about how alone they were in the backwoods of Camelot, and how the woods in midsummer always seemed to bring out a bit of foolishness, even from the crown prince.
"Alright," he whispered to Merlin, "try me."
"Arthur?" Merlin's eyes crinkled, not quite with confusion but with something else, something Arthur couldn't decipher.
"In battle, Merlin, try me!"
Merlin mock-frowned. "But I don't want to hurt you, sire."
"Remember the first time we met?"
"I don't think I could forget."
"I knew there was something about you, Merlin...I said I knew there was something about you…"
"I was there you know," Merlin pouted.
"And that's what it was! You," Arthur whirled an accusing finger at Merlin, "you were holding back on me!"
"Aren't we supposed to be tracking the Questing Beast?" Merlin asked.
"Oh, stop stalling! Come on, Merlin. Take me on already!"
Merlin shrugged, and he couldn't help grinning. "You insisted, sire..."
—
When they returned to Camelot the next day, covered in bruises and briar-scratches, Arthur explained to Uther there was no way the pair would let the Questing Beast get away from them when they went out again.
"We were really just locating its…preliminary position this time, father," he explained.
Uther frowned. "Yes, well...bring the other knights with you when you go out again. Tomorrow, Arthur."
Arthur nodded, sobered.