Title: Where Nightmares Come True

Fandom: Merlin

Rating: T

Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Dragoon (not a pairing, just in case you wondered), Arthur, and Morgana, mostly. Also some OCs.

Spoilers: Set a little bit after Series Four, so . . .

Warnings: Mild violence in later chapters, and maybe some disturbing descriptions.

Disclaimer: Here's looking at you, BBC.

Beta: DeleaMarie

AN: Enter Chapter Three! Things are starting to get a bit crazy in this story, with new revelations and another character entering the mix. Enjoy!


Chapter Three: Dreams or Madness

The fierce whirlwind took them to a sun-filled clearing, and Dragoon released Merlin, allowing him to trip and fall to the ground with a thump. The warlock sat up hurriedly and scooted away from the old man, who seemed to tower over him.

Am I really that tall? Merlin thought, feeling rather faint as Dragoon gave him a contemptuous look and started to pace along the clearing, muttering to himself and and slamming his staff against the ground. Merlin watched him warily for a few minutes, then stood up. He wasn't sure what to say to this unexpected apparition. I mean, what did you say to someone who looked exactly like what you would in sixty years and had the same powers, but didn't seem to know who you were? Because there was nothing resembling recognition in Dragoon's eyes.

His first thought on seeing the older man had been that he had finally gone mad, but now he decided it was more likely that he was dreaming.

Needless to say, it was an awkward situation. Merlin wasn't sure he had ever been aware he was dreaming while actually in the dream, so he wasn't sure what to do. Nervously, he cleared his throat and said the very first thing that came to his head:

"What's your name?"

Dragoon turned and raised an eyebrow. "What's your name?"

This took Merlin rather aback. "I asked first," he protested.
"
Well, I'm the kidnapper here-"

"-And I'm the kidnappee!"

Dragoon blinked, annoyed. "What?" he demanded.

Merlin set his jaw. "You owe me something."

The old man rolled his eyes, deciding it wasn't worth the trouble. "I've been called Dragoon," he said. Merlin bit his lip.

"But that's not your name, is it?"

" . . . No."

The warlock hesitated. "Aren't you also called . . . Emrys?"

Dragoon gave him a funny look, but nodded. "Some people know me as that, yes."

"But that's not your name either."

"No, and don't think I'm telling you my real name, boy. I can't have you spilling it to the king, can I?"

Merlin didn't reply. He was still staring with that strange intensity, the kind that made Dragoon feel uncomfortable. The sorcerer turned away with a huff, muttering about naive boys that had never seen a magic user in their life.

Merlin's voice stopped him. "Merlin."

Dragoon froze. "What?"

"That's your name. Merlin."

For a moment the two simply stared into each other's eyes-one slightly resigned, the other shocked-then Dragoon lunged forward and collared Merlin.

"How did you know that?" he hissed, his eyes wide and his breathing heavy. "How did you know my name was Merlin?"

The younger Merlin gulped. "Because my name's Merlin too."


Sleep had eluded Morgana after the dream. The chilling quality of it, the rapid-fire images, and the dread eyes of the nightmare, had all combined to keep her pacing for the rest of the night.

And the woman's words? "Arthur doesn't know what he has unleashed." She didn't know what to make of them, other than acknowledging to herself that her brother was very capable of doing something incredibly stupid in ignorance. But what had he done this time?

A step at the door made her pause in her relentless back-and-forth movements. "Come in," she called at the soft, hesitant knock.

It was Fredegar, one of her newer allies. He stepped cautiously into the room; he'd learned to fear her.

"My lady," he said, "Dirril has news: he overheard the king talking to the court physician."

Hope stirred in Morgana's downtrodden heart. "Yes?" she questioned eagerly, and Fredegar gulped.

"Emrys has been seen. He was in Camelot, and he has requested to speak to the king tonight, at midnight, in the Valley of the Fallen Kings."

Morgana turned away, smiling. At last, news of her old rival, Emrys! This time, she would have him. This time for sure. And she could snuff Arthur, too.

"Kill two birds with one stone," she muttered.

"There's more, m'lady," Fredegar said, shifting uncomfortably. His mistress gave him a 'go on' gesture. "Emrys has taken one of the servants hostage, to ensure that the king would come."

He watched as his mistress seemed to freeze up, her whole body stiffening. "'One of the servants'?" she repeated, her voice husky and dangerous. "Which one? Did Dirril say?"

Fredegar took a step back, his hand on the doorknob. "The king's manservant, m'lady. Merlin."

Her infuriated cry followed him all the way to his horse and beyond.


Wait, why doesn't Dragoon remember Merlin? And now Morgana knows where they are! Uh-oh . . .

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