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: This is a bit of a filler/carrier of necessary information chapter, but hopefully it's not too boring.
Chapter Four: Probable Cause
Once more, Merlin watched as Dragoon paced furiously, back and forth, back and forth. Merlin didn't speak, but the older man would occasionally let out a burst of muttered thought. He was having a hard time comprehending what Merlin had told him.
It had certainly been an interesting conversation; not only had Merlin revealed the whole 'Dragoon the Great' situation, but Dragoon the Great had revealed that he remembered pretty much nothing about his past, other than his names.
Finally, after several minutes of this, he stopped and turned to his young counterpart, glaring fiercely. "I can feel myself in you," he said abruptly. "My magic. It courses through your veins as it does through mine."
Merlin nodded. "I feel the same."
Dragoon snorted. "And you still think this is a dream?" he demanded.
"What other explanation is there?" Merlin replied calmly.
The old sorcerer gave him a look that made it very clear he thought Merlin was utterly brainless. "Oh, I don't know," he said with infinite sarcasm. "Maybe . . . time travel?"
Merlin opened his mouth to refute this theory, then stopped. "Er, well. I suppose that's an idea. But then why would you not remember who I was?"
"Amnesia," Dragoon answered simply.
"But why would you remember 'Dragoon' and not your own mother's name? Please, tell me how that makes sense!"
Dragoon looked ready to throw his arms up in exasperation-if he didn't have arthritis in his shoulders. "I don't know all the answers, but I don't see you coming up with a better one!" He turned away, muttering, "A dream indeed . . ."
Merlin glared at his back, thoughts running through his mind, quick as greased lightning. "And what about Arthur? What do you remember about him?"
Slowly, Dragoon faced him again. With the beard and long hair, it was hard to read his expression, but Merlin thought he looked uneasy. "He's important," the old sorcerer replied. "He's important, but I'm not sure why. And it's not safe in Camelot, not for him. I had to get him out; it was urgent."
Merlin didn't say anything, merely weighed the words. Dragoon's eyes darted from side to side as he thought. "I saw something," he continued. "A vision, I suppose. I don't remember what it was exactly, but it filled me with fear and dread, and I knew I had to get Arthur out of Camelot. And so I did, in the way I thought best."
"Best?" Dragoon was expecting it to be a scoff, but Merlin simply watched him carefully. "How was kidnapping me best?"
Dragoon looked him in the eye, almost beseeching. "You know, I have no idea. But I do believe it was for the best. Truly."
They watched each other intensely for several moments, then Merlin stepped forward and poked Dragoon's shoulder. He heaved a sigh and accepted once and for all that it was not a dream.
"Come on," he said. "If you're right and this is time travel we're dealing with, I think I know someone who can help."
Kilgharrah was lost for words. Merlin didn't blame him.
Dragon and warlocks watched each other for a full two minutes before the former spoke. "Ah," he said, his normally deep, wise-sounding voice inching upwards, "maybe this is what I have been feeling."
Merlin nodded slowly when Dragoon scowled in confusion; it did not surprise him that Kilgharrah had noticed that there were suddenly two of the same person in the world, especially when that person was Emrys.
"We had an idea"-his counterpart gave him a look-"well, Dragoon had an idea, that maybe it was time travel of a sort. Problem is, he's also lost his memory."
"Time travel?" The dragon leaned closer and examined Dragoon. He grumbled in his great throat. "You might be right, my two young warlocks. And if you are-"
Suddenly, Kilgharrah stopped and stared at Dragoon with an expression Merlin had never seen. He moved even closer and sniffed the older warlock, as if trying to smell something on him. After several minutes of intense sniffing and staring, the dragon reared back and said: "I'm not sure I can help you, but I might know someone who can. There is a Druid living in these woods. Her name is Drusilla, and she knows many things. If anyone can help you . . . she can."
Merlin raised an eyebrow. "That's it? No crazy riddles and cryptic statements?"
Kilgharrah did not seem amused, and his voice was almost desperate as he continued. "There is no time for riddles now. In fact, I sense you have very little time. Go now, Merlin and Merlin; her tribe lives an hour or so away. But I warn you, this situation is not all it seems. You will meet many surprises and dangers before the sun rises tomorrow, I think."
Short, but necessary. Next chapter things will liven up a bit, with our handsome heroes facing-DUN DUN DUUUN!-the mutant chicken-thief!
kitkat: Earlier you asked if this was going to be a reveal. Well, not exactly in the way you mean, though things will be revealed. Thanks for your reviews!
Please review!