AN: I was originally going to make this a longer story but I knew I would never get around to it. My fanfiction days are dying out in all honesty but this idea was to sweet to pass up completely. Hope you enjoy it and that the story takes your imagination to places the show never could.
"Merlin… there's nothing you can do."
The words sent icy fingers of dread to clutch at Merlin's heart.
"I failed?"
"No, young warlock, for all that you have dreamt of building has come to pass."
Merlin shook his head and heaved Arthur higher with a desperate grunt.
"I CAN'T LOSE HIM!" he shouted angrily. "HE'S MY FRIEND!"
"Though no man, no matter how great, can know his destiny, some lives have been fortold, Merlin. Arthur is not just a king. He is the once and future king."
Merlin looked down at his friend in his arms hopelessly.
"Take heart," Kilgarrah encouraged. "For when Albion's need is greatest. Arthur will rise again."
~.~.~.~
It would take a magic as ancient as the dragons themselves.
It was dark, with not even a moon's glow when the small boat drifted to the shore of the Isle in the Lake of Avalon. The clouds parted then and the moon's glow shone down on the fallen king, but the moon was not the only thing to turn its eye on Arthur.
A shadow passed over the lake, circling around and around, over and over until it rested gently in the water besides the boat. The moon glittered off pale skin, white nails traced lightly over Arthur's cold cheek. Blue eyes stared sadly.
"Come to see your work?"
Aithusa jumped, upsetting the water and nearly toppling the dead king into its dark depths. Gold eyes peered from the darkness of the isle, watching the young dragon.
"The sword that pierced his heart was tainted by your magic."
Aithusa's eyes turned back to Arthur.
I did not want this.
"And yet your foolishness caused it all the same. You were supposed to be the sign of prosperity in Albion. I told Merlin that your birth meant a good future, for him… and Arthur."
Morgana… she bewitched me… she tricked me…
"A dragon's power is greater than that of a mere mortal, even a dragon as young as you… you are a shame to the dragon race."
Aithusa turned her head away in shame, a boiling tear dripped from her eye and fell into the water beside her. Kilgarrah watched her for a long moment.
"Dragon tears are not easily shed. Do you truly regret what you have done?"
More than anything.
"Then perhaps there is still hope," Kilgarrah pronounced.
Aithusa's eyes snapped open and she turned their blue orbs on her elder.
How?
"There is an ancient ritual, it has not been used for many ages, but if any man were worthy, Arthur would be it, and only your magic can lift the taint and save his life."
Aithusa stared at the corpse of Arthur Pendragon.
"If you are going to do this you must act quickly, the last of his life is ebbing away even as we speak."
The mottled gray dragon clenched her jaws tightly and nodded.
What must I do?
"You were named after the light of the sun, now step out of the darkness and into that light. Let instinct guide you, and I will tell you the words…
"My heart… to your heart…"
~.~.~.~
Arthur's eyes opened slowly, but all he saw was darkness. He blinked… once, twice… three times, still just darkness. It was cold and damp, wherever he was and he could hear the gentle dripping of water source nearby. That's when he noticed he was thirsty. He licked his dry lips, dryer than he had ever felt them before as he tried to remember what had happened to him.
He sat up slowly. His chest hurt, but it was only a memory compared to the agonizing pain he had felt before… before what?
"Hello?" he called and his voice echoed against the walls. He pushed himself to his feet, one hand against the wet wall. He assumed he was in some sort of cave or tunnel, but still had no memory of how he got here. The last thing he remembered was…
"Merlin?"
Something moved behind him sending a gentle breeze his way, but his instincts picked up on it right away. Still no one responded.
"Who's there?" the king called.
All he could hear was the drip, drip, dripping and a something… something breathing.
"Whoever you are, I'm not going to hurt you…" As long as you don't hurt me. Arthur thought to himself. He realized then that he had no weapon.
By your feet. A voice seemed to whisper.
"Who said that?" Arthur asked whirling around. Still no answer. He took a step forward and kicked something that clattered loudly against the floor. Bending over he felt around carefully until he felt the cool metal of a blade. Once he had it in his hand there was no mistaking what it was.
Excalibur.
He swung the sword around again.
"I said who's there?" he called more insistently.
If I show you, you will kill me, and then we will both die.
Arthur pressed a hand to his temple. The voice bounced around inside his skull, like it came from everywhere at once, and nowhere.
"I promise, no harm will come to you."
Your father made the same promise in order to trick many of my brethren into trusting him, in the end he slaughtered almost all of them.
"Are you a druid?" Arthur asked.
No, my kind is a much more ancient race of beings.
Arthur probed his memory. "Are you…" it seemed to preposterous to even say out loud, "Are you a dragon?"
He only heard silence and the raspy, rumbling breathing. Then without warning a blaze lit up the tunnel, the ball of flame flew harmlessly past him and hit the wall behind him. Instead of dissipating however the light rested on a torch hanging in a sconce on the cave wall. Arthur squinted his eyes nearly shut as they adjusted to the new light and then slowly turned his attention back to where the flame had come from. The area was in shadow, but a pale creature moved inside, slowly it stepped out of the shadow and into the light.
The creature Arthur saw did not look like much of a dragon. Its limbs were bent and twisted, its wings looked frail and broken, and its scales were mottled and lacked any sort of luster.
"I killed the last of the dragons…" Arthur said.
The dragon's mouth did not move when it spoke, instead its words seemed to echo in Arthur's head. Its eyes watching him nervously, and carefully.
You were led to believe that, but one survived.
"You?" Arthur asked.
No… the great dragon, Kilgarrah.
"Then who are you?" Arthur asked.
My name is Aithusa. I was called forth by the last dragonlord. When I was still a hatchling I was taken in by Morgana.
Arthur lifted his sword a little higher, the dragon ducked its head and backed a little further into the shadows.
I served her, but not of my own free will… I should have been stronger, this I know now. It was my magic she used on the blade that pierced your heart.
Arthur's hand reached up and clutched at the chainmail where the wound had been, but nothing was left.
"How am I alive?" he asked.
When Merlin killed the witch, Morgana, I was freed from her spell. I tried to find the both of you, but I was too late. My magic could not heal you, at least not the magic that I knew how to use. The great dragon Kilgarrah showed me the way.
Arthur swallowed. "What did you do to me?" he asked.
Aithusa hesitated, not meeting Arthur's eyes and then finally he heard her voice again.
I gave you the heart of a dragon.
AN: There are so many interesting ways this story could progress, maybe someday I'll get around to writing them but I doubt it. I mostly posted this for my mom so she could read it. She's always been a fan of my writing, besides there were too many cool connections. I felt that this fic kind of redeemed Aithusa in my mind since she was supposed to be the hope of a new age of Albion. Hope you felt the same way too!
God bless!