Hey, thanks already for being interested in this story! It's my first time writing Merlin (unless you count insane crossover crack-fic, but I'm not sure that taught me anything about characterization :P) so feel free to review or drop a pm with any comments on how I'm portraying these guys.
The idea itself was a plotbunny I had while trying to plan out another fic, which will hopefully be coming up sometime in the next few weeks. This is a multichapter fic that takes place before The Fires of Idirsholas and The Last Dragonlord, and will kind of blend the two together. Therefore Morgana is in Camelot and still good, as personally I think she's confused about magic but doesn't turn evil until she stays with Morgause.
Well, that's all the info I'll give you on the story (you'll have to read the rest yourself :P). Again feel free to leave a review with tips and errors, just don't be rude and send a flame. If you don't like the story when you're done then why are you wasting your time to rant about it?
Enjoy!
It was a cloudy and foreboding night in the city of Camelot where two raven haired sorcerers tossed and turned in their respective chambers; both unaware of the other's suffering. The Lady Morgana slept in the royal's quarters, asleep and dreaming as seers often did, her breath rasping and her brow burning as she saw the pain of the future ahead.
The skies were pitch black above the castle fortress, soldiers and guards positioned in the posts they only took if the city was under siege. Morgana looked down on the central courtyard from a view she knew all too well, as she often spent her days watching the hustle and bustle of the city from her bedroom window. But no one was moving outside now, and she began to squint her eyes to make out any shapes in the black pool of midnight when a column of orange flame fell from the heavens, illuminating and burning her entire view at the same time, and in one moment shaking the foundations of the home she had made her life in.
The fire was followed by the sound of the flapping of wings, and she gasped as a creature unlike anything she had ever seen before lowered itself down into what had once been a plaza, looking around as if searching for anymore life to destroy. The beast was larger than her bedroom and shined with scales that looked like they were made of gold, only the color was slightly off, and when Morgana looked into its large eyes of the same color she recognized why it seemed so familiar. It was the color of sorcerer's eyes when they used magic, the color of her eyes in her darkest nightmares.
The dragon, she assumed, since nothing of such magnificence and horror could be anything but the feared creatures Uther had purged, seemed satisfied that it had indeed killed all of the citizens in the area and landed in the middle of the courtyard, taking up most of Camelot's largest square. It stood right where the execution block normally stood, lifted its head, and let out a roar that again shook both the foundations and Morgana herself to the core. When the creature finally lowered its head, it gazed straight through her window, and into her terrified eyes.
A cold voice whispered through the night, yet it echoed through Morgana's mind as if the creature was screaming. The one word, the name, though not her own, made Morgana's blood run cold.
'Merlin'.
The young warlock, while in his own bed, was having the opposite problem of the noblewoman several floors above him. No matter how long he simply lay there, or whether he moved about to make himself feel more comfortable on the hard, straw mattress, Merlin simply could not fall asleep. His limbs felt like stone and his mind could barely process his thoughts, yet relief from the day's chores simply would not come to him.
Merlin suppressed a groan as he flipped his body over, closing his eyes once again, only for a bright flash to dance across his eyelids as a bolt of lightning crashed against the top of one of the nearby towers. Turning back away from the small window in his room, he ran out of energy halfway through the motion and ended up on his stomach with his arms spread out, hoping that sleep would soon take him.
Just as everything else in Merlin's life, the worst possible thing to happen did, in the form of a rumbling voice, pulsing through his sleep-deprived head and pulling him ever so further away from the sweet land of dreams.
'Merlin'. Said warlock replied only by squeezing his eyes shut. Ever since the dragon had tried to take his mother's life for his a year ago, Merlin had promised himself that he would only meet the dragon on his own terms.
'Merlin'. The voice was persistent, and growing in force, until it rang a third time and Merlin realized his now aching head could not stand to be disturbed for a fourth time. Mumbling to himself, the servant grabbed his typical brown jacket and red neckerchief, and tied them on as he proceeded to sneak his way out of Gaius's chambers.
The entrance to the dragon's cave was near the bottom of the castle, yet still a ways off from where the dungeons lie. It had been years since Merlin had been intimidated by the guards who were posted near the entrance. While the two men in uniform were normally a sorcerer's greatest nightmare, Merlin had soon learned from Arthur that the two at this entrance were the younger, dumber sons of the nobles Uther hoped to please. And luckily for Merlin, the men were repeated distracted by simple tricks such as dice that threw themselves off the tables.
Merlin snuck past the guards with the same silent footsteps he had learned while training to be the perfect servant for the prince of Camelot. 'And no matter how often they call me a clumsy idiot, they're the ones continuously chasing after the same pair of enchanted dice', Merlin thought as he reached the entrance of the dark stairwell leading to the deepest dungeons. Grabbing an unlit torch once he reached the point where only a glimmer of the light from the guards' torches reached him, Merlin quickly continued on his way, not even pausing as his eyes glowed a magical gold and a flame erupted on his torch, illuminating his path.
Once Merlin reached the bottom of the stairs he exited cautious only the slab of rock that jutted out into the cavern in front of him. The room was large and spacious, yet he had gotten used to seeing the rough stalagmites and stalactites right underneath the largest and most pristine castle in all of Albion. No longer one to gawk at the sights, Merlin turned his attention straight to the reason why he came, the dragon who now was sitting on another ledge a hundred feet in front of him.
"Merlin" the Great Dragon's voice boomed, seeming to echo against the distant walls of the cavern and collide in on said warlock. Yet Merlin was unfazed, he stared straight into the dragon's large golden eyes, each easily larger than the boy's own head, until his confident stance was broken by a yawn he let out as his tiredness began to return slightly.
Soon after he yawned the tiredness seemed to fade back away as he considered the reasons why the dragon had called him. Merlin had kept a policy of only visiting the beast on his terms after the ordeal with Nimue and his mother; it had been years since the two had met for any other reason than trying to stop some magical threat on Arthur's life. "Why did you call me here?"
The dragon repositioned itself, adjusting its huge claws and scaled arms on its perch as its neck leaned in closer to Merlin. "It seems you have finally heeded my call and come to visit me, young warlock. The only question now is if you will fulfill your own words. You once promised you would free me in exchange for my help, and I ask that now be that time."
Feelings of both frustration and relief rose in Merlin. On one hand he was faced with a promise he had never wanted to make, and now it seemed the dragon was finally pushing for his release. But on the other hand, there was a swell of joy, knowing that, even if it was only temporary, Arthur was still safe. A few seconds later the hope won out, yet Merlin felt both emotions pushing into his voice as he asked, "So this doesn't have to do with my destiny?"
"This has everything to do with your destiny! Not that of Arthur or the future of Albion, but with what has already passed. I have received proof that the last Dragonlord is still alive, and in that, the last of my kin. What I am asking you, young warlock, is that you release me now so that I may visit him before it is too late. I am the last of my kind, and he is the last of his."
Merlin tried to process this information, but knew he was missing some pieces. Hoping he could get something more concrete out of the ever cryptic dragon Merlin asked, "Just what is a Dragonlord?"
The dragon, glad that he had the warlock's interest, relaxed back into his mighty position on his perch, saying, "Dragonlords are people of the oldest magic, coming back from the beginnings of the Old Religion. They are the kin of dragons, and no magic is more powerful than the bond they share. It was twenty years ago that Uther Pendragon called all of the Dragonlords to come to Camelot, slaughtering both our kinds and leaving me here to die. Yet now I have word that the last Dragonlord, Balinor, was able to escape his wrath. And that, young warlock, is why you must free me, to keep your promise, and so that I may be with my kin."
Merlin still stands where he is, staying strong despite trying to understand about Dragonlords. He quickly said, "You said that this has to do with my destiny. Why is it that I must be the one to free you, and why should I care so much about the Dragonlords?"
The dragon smiled, secretly expecting that response, and came back saying, "Simply because they are your kin too, Merlin. The Dragonlord, Balinor, escaped to Ealdor shortly after fleeing Camelot, and there he met your mother. I am your kin, Merlin, as Balinor is your father."