Arthur rolled over to his back when a whisper invaded his dream. "Arthur." Something rocked his shoulder. "Arthur," the whisper repeated, insistent. "Prat. Wake up."

Prat? Who dared address the king with an insult?

"Dollophead, if you don't get up, I'm whacking you with a pillow."

When he discovered who was being so disrespectful, the stocks were going to have a permanent occupant. A sudden smack to the face jolted his eyelids open. Moonlight streamed through the window and afforded him enough illumination to see Merlin standing over him. "Merlin!" He snapped up the pillow beneath his head and launched it at the warlock, who dodged to the right so the projectile tumbled halfway across the room before landing with a soft thud.

"This is why I always hated waking you up," Merlin in his younger form complained as he retrieved the pillow. Another already pressed between Merlin's arm and side must have been the weapon that had roused him from sleep. The warlock stacked both pillows back on the bed.

"It's the middle of the night!" Arthur protested, snatching the one on top, slamming it down on the bed, and shoving his face into it.

"It's the best time to do this. I've hung your clothes over the dressing screen. Get up."

"Merlin, what in the heavens?" Arthur exclaimed, craning his neck up in annoyance.

"She's back, and I said no more lies." Merlin's expression had grown serious. "I promise to explain, but I'd like to do that as we go to her."

Arthur slid his feet off the bed, stretching and yawning and feeling like Percival had accidentally punched his head in practice. "I'm tired."

"Stop whining like a child."

"Merlin, you've recreated all this." Arthur waved his hand around the room. "Do you have stocks somewhere, just for old time's sake?"

Merlin's solemnity broke for a moment and he chuckled. "I forgot those."

"I command you to make them. Now."

Merlin laughed louder. "Stop delaying."

Arthur groaned as he rose from the bed and stumbled over to the dressing screen. Bleary eyed, he stripped off his night clothes and donned the trousers, shirt, cloak, and boots Merlin had chosen for him. "Who is she?"

"Let's wait on that."

"Why?"

"Because. Trust me."

"I'm not sure I can if we have to sneak around like thieves to do whatever it is we're doing." He stepped out from behind the screen.

"Just follow me."

Arthur motioned at the doorway. "Lead on. And this better be worth disturbing my rest."

"Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, my lord."

"Shut up, Merlin."

Arthur tramped after his sorcerer into the wooded area directly behind the palatial mansion. Merlin had previously told him he owned not just the house, but a good share of the land surrounding it, including the lake. Arthur had been impressed at Merlin's foresight to save up enough coin to preserve the area, and touched that Merlin had done it for him. I didn't want you to feel that you were alone, Arthur remembered. And he never had, even if Merlin hadn't always been physically present in the area.

The warlock had related a little of his journeys, traveling the world to learn, listen, and add to his wisdom so he could someday instruct his king. Arthur ruminated as he balanced on a line of stones crossing a small stream, guided by Merlin's hand lit with a burning flame. Several times in his former life, Merlin's wisdom had slipped through. Sometimes he'd mocked his servant's words, though they always meant the world to him. Even so, he could never have foreseen himself a pupil of his manservant. This current arrangement was amusing, and strange, and altogether exactly as it should be. He couldn't get over the feeling it was so very right.

Arthur strode parallel to Merlin, navigating underbrush by the beams emanating from the sorcerer's palm. He cast a glance at Merlin's profile sticking out from his hooded cloak. "You know I don't mind if you look old."

Merlin glanced at him.

"It seems appropriate now." After all, if Merlin was his mentor, he might as well look the part.

"The spell isn't difficult. I'm used to it. It doesn't drain me much unless I'm doing something taxing with my magic at the same time."

"Well, don't keep up appearances for my sake."

Merlin turned back and tripped over a raised root. Arthur grasped his elbow to keep him from sprawling.

"Not entirely light on your feet still, are you?

Merlin smirked. "I really haven't been clumsy till you came back."

"It's my fault then."

"Must be."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Merlin held his hand up between them, eyes reflecting the dancing flame. "I don't wear this form just for you."

"Oh?"

"When I'm with you, and I look like this...it's like..." Merlin went silent for several seconds.

"What?"

"Like you never left." Their eyes connected momentarily, a shared emotion they couldn't express shining in their gazes.

"I'm sor—" Arthur tried, but Merlin abruptly turned and marched on.

"We've been over this. That wasn't your fault. Besides, it's so unlike you to ask for forgiveness." Arthur caught the hint of amusement in Merlin's last statement.

He considered. He'd been raised not to apologize to anyone beneath him, to expect people to bow to his wishes and bend to his will. Such upbringing made him strong and decisive, and a bit of an ass, as Guinevere had pointed out on occasion. "When I think about it, I wish it had been different," Arthur managed. That wasn't an apology, just a fact.

"I can't imagine you wanted to die," Merlin returned. Arthur watched Merlin's profile smile and the dimple appear on his right cheek. He couldn't help smiling himself. "It would have been nice if it had been different. I missed you. A lot. But you being here at the lake, it helped. It kept me, I don't know...grounded, somehow."

"I didn't miss you," Arthur stated. Merlin stumbled again, but maintained his balance this time. "When I woke up, your lady was there and that's when I knew I'd died. I wondered where you'd gone, because you'd been right there holding me. She said I'd see you soon."

Merlin wiped a sleeve across his eyes. He surged forwards up a ridge and paused at the pinnacle. "Now that you are back, I'm not going to hide anything from you." His friend turned, drawing the flame up to his face again. "I don't show many people what I'm about to show you. You can't tell anyone about her, and I need your solemn oath you won't."

Arthur stared, confused and a little offended. "You think I'd break your trust?"

"I have to ask you this, Arthur. I have a responsibility to her."

"Maybe I want to know who she is first."

"She's good and she won't hurt you."

"Stop being cryptic."

"I won't tell you anything at all if you don't swear."

Arthur sighed. "I swear on my life I won't reveal whatever it is you want to show me."

Merlin nodded once, then descended the ridge. Arthur followed in his wake, unsettled. Who in the world was so important Merlin would make him swear to secrecy before revealing her? Another lover perhaps? A magical one? But they were in the middle of nowhere, and he hardly thought Merlin would stow a woman he loved in...a cave. Merlin had stopped at a wide yawning mouth. Arthur halted next to him and peered inside at the pitch black.

"Remember when we hunted Borden to find the dragon egg?" Merlin asked quietly.

"Yes."

"And I let you believe it had perished when the tower collapsed?"

Arthur's stomach churned. "Let me believe?"

"I misled you."

"How?" Arthur's voice was hushed. He recalled their quest ending with Merlin assuring him of the egg's destruction.

"I took the egg."

Arthur exhaled slowly. "You always did have a soft spot for helpless beasts. So you still have it, then?"

Merlin kept his eyes locked on Arthur's and Arthur didn't like it one bit. "I hatched it."

Arthur blinked, questions tumbling through his mind. How? Why? Where? But only one made it to his lips. "When?"

"When we got back to Camelot."

Arthur propped his hands on his hips, working to restrain a flare of anger. "You're telling me you purposefully hatched a dangerous creature that could destroy my capital?"

"I did." Merlin didn't sound in the least repentant.

Arthur rationalized. It hadn't attacked Camelot, so in the end, no harm had been done. "When we get back, you're building those stocks."

Merlin tilted his head at the abrupt change in conversation.

"You've lied how many times to your king? That's got to be years in them."

Merlin burst out laughing and Arthur did, too. If he didn't make the joke to diffuse the tension he'd start raving at Merlin's recklessness.

"Where did the beast go?"

"I'm not sure really. She's a free creature."

Arthur's mouth went dry. "She? Merlin, don't tell me..."

"I named her Aithusa, and she's here." Merlin pointed at the cave.

Arthur swiveled on his heel, turning fearful eyes to the cave. Merlin wouldn't ever hurt him, so he must trust this...what? Pet? Suddenly a load of guttural gibberish was proceeding from Merlin's mouth, and Arthur gazed at his friend in shock. A strained whine echoed from the cave. Arthur's hand whipped to his side, but met an empty hipbone. They hadn't come armed. Nothing to fear. Nothing to fear, he chanted to himself. All his life he'd been told how dangerous and lethal and out of control dragons were.

A ghostly form appeared and Merlin shuffled towards it. Arthur came cautiously behind, not wanting to look a coward, but recalling battling against a dragon spewing fire from its mouth, intending to roast him alive. The emerging dragon was smaller than the one he'd confronted; if he stood on Merlin's shoulders, they would equal its height. It seemed sickly, pale, misshapen, with numerous scars streaking its sides.

Arthur halted several paces away from his warlock as Merlin rubbed the top of its head. It stuffed its snout into his chest. Merlin grinned and pushed back his hood with one hand. "Hey, girl. Where've you been?" She twittered a little and Merlin seemed to be listening to her. "Really? Good. I have someone here to meet you, and I promise he's safe."

Arthur hardly registered the introduction. Merlin was communing with a dragon. Cuddling it.

"Arthur, you're gaping like a fish."

Arthur came to and clamped his mouth shut.

"Come meet Aithusa."

Arthur took a tentative few steps forward. The dragon turned her head, following his progress, then darted forwards. He almost collapsed to his knees in fright, but she was upon him in seconds, thrusting her head under his chin. He heard Merlin laughing.

"Aithusa!" his friend shouted.

The dragon backed up, but lifted her wing.

"She's offering for us to sit with her."

Arthur turned a stunned face to Merlin. "Huh?"

"Like this." The dragon settled on the ground and Merlin sat down, leaning into her side where she'd raised her wing. "You're not afraid are you?"

"No," Arthur forced out, joining Merlin. The dragon lowered her wing, enclosing them in a scaly shelter. The light in Merlin's hand burned all the brighter in the small space.

"You can relax. Lay against her."

Arthur pushed back into the dragon's side. A vibration thrummed beneath his head and a rather large repetitive thump. Merlin extinguished his light. Arthur blinked in surprise, pushing away panic when they plunged into darkness.

"She recognized you."

"Me?"

"She was close to Carwyn. Closer than I ever have been."

Arthur swallowed hard. Carwyn. His son. They hadn't talked much about his continuing lineage since that first day he'd returned at the lake.

"She must have sensed the relation."

Arthur could hardly think. He was accepted by a dragon because his son had been. "My son made friends with a dragon." What in the world would Uther's shade think about him now? Married a maid. Knighted commoners. Conceived a son who became chummy with a dragon.

"Arthur, I did something...horrible, though I felt I had no choice." Merlin's voice was almost inaudible.

Arthur didn't speak right away, sensing that meeting the dragon had only been a prelude for a confession. "Tell me," he mirrored Merlin's hushed tone.

"When I first arrived in Camelot, I heard a voice calling to me, and when I followed it, I found a dragon. The great dragon chained under the citadel."

Arthur couldn't make out Merlin's form in the dark under the dragon's wing, but their shoulders were touching. Merlin shifted nervously. "What did it say to you?" Merlin heard the dragon. All right. He could go with that. Both of them were magic, after all, right?

"I used to visit him and ask for advice."

Arthur found himself reaching out to shake Merlin's shoulder. "You visited it?"

"Yes."

"If my father had caught you, he would have killed you!"

"He didn't."

"You idiot! What could you learn from it anyway?"

"All kinds of things about magic. I wasn't exactly trained when I showed up in Camelot. He had knowledge when Gaius' failed." Merlin huffed. "Even though he wasn't always straight with me."

"So you talked to it. I mean, that was stupid, but it doesn't sound that horrible," Arthur noted.

"We rode out to kill him," Merlin whispered.

Arthur thought he understood why Merlin sounded so upset. "You didn't want to kill him because you'd gotten to know him."

"I did want to kill him."

Arthur's brow furrowed. "Then what was so horrible?"

"I lied. I told you you dealt a mortal blow."

Arthur fixed his eyes on where he thought his friend was in the darkness. "But I didn't," he intuited. "You did?"

"I didn't kill him."

Heavens! Merlin had saved it? "Don't tell me you had a heart to heart with it and let it escape?"

"I didn't let it escape."

Arthur widened his eyes. "You made it leave with magic." His mind reeled. How many of his memories were false?

"A specific kind of magic. Remember we went to find a dragonlord."

Arthur nodded. "And he died. So, we didn't have him and you tried to make it stop with magic. Well, it worked."

Merlin's shoulder pulled away and he sensed the warlock hunching over his knees. "The dragonlord. Balinor. He was my father."

"Your...father," Arthur stammered. An image of Merlin kneeling over the dragonlord's body and weeping almost uncontrollably flashed through his mind. "I said he wasn't worth your tears." He wanted to punch a tree. How many times had his words wounded Merlin because he hadn't been let in on the most important part of his life?

"I didn't know until right before we started out to find him. Gaius told me."

Arthur pressed fingers into his eyes, stemming moisture. "Did the dragonlord know?"

"I told him."

Arthur coughed to clear his emotions. "So there I was, thinking we're on a mission, and you're having a family reunion?"

"Something like that."

"Gods, Merlin. Why in the world did you keep being my friend? Destiny or not, I must have failed you a hundred times over."

"Because you didn't know, so I never held any of it against you."

"No more lies," Arthur recalled their promise.

"No more. When a dragonlord dies, his son inherits his abilities."

"You're a dragonlord?" Arthur blinked. What in the... "I didn't read you were a dragonlord," he hissed.

"I didn't let Blaise write about it."

"Blaise?"

"You've been reading his works about me."

Ah. So that was the man's name. Merlin's scribe. He had a beautiful script Arthur had admired.

"Only a few people have ever known I was a dragonlord. I commanded the dragon to leave that night, the first time I'd ever used the ability. I continued to call him sometimes, when I needed help."

Arthur's mind clicked, putting the pieces together. A dragon calling to Merlin, Merlin finding out he was a dragonlord, Merlin talking to it, even after it had attacked Camelot. His gut roiled. "Merlin...Who freed it?"

Merlin didn't answer, but his breaths turned harsh.

Arthur ground his jaw. It was okay. This was okay. Fifteen hundred years gone. And Merlin was loyal. Always had been. "No more lies. No hiding."

"I did," his friend whispered, then words tumbled out of his mouth, crashing into each other like stormy waves. "He told me how to stop the Knights of Medhir, and I had to promise him I'd free him or he'd let Camelot fall, and so I did on my mother's life, and I was stuck then. I should have made him promise not to attack Camelot. I didn't know what else to do."

Arthur replayed what he'd read in Merlin's biography and what Merlin had allowed him to see in his memories. He'd felt the pain of Merlin poisoning Morgana. His guilt when they'd lost his father. What would he feel if he saw Merlin's transgression in the releasing of the dragon? He could guess. Regret and condemnation. For saving Camelot, and then getting it destroyed and people killed.

He felt Merlin pushing away from him, but he gripped his arm and pulled him back to his side. "No wonder you hid yourself from me."

"Arthur, I'm sor..."

"No. No, Merlin. I can't accept your apology."

"Arthur." Hurt drained Merlin's voice of its vitality.

"What right do I have to judge you? If I fault you, I fault myself. I believed Morgana and Agravaine. People died because I did what I thought was best, too."

Merlin didn't speak for a moment and tears muffled his voice when he did. "Thank you." Arthur heard the implication⸺for accepting me anyway.

Silence descended once again and not long after, Merlin's breathing deepened. Arthur traced his fingertips down Merlin's arm, then lightly brushed at his chest where his touch met the beard he'd expected. Merlin had transformed in the dark. Easier that way to face him with this information maybe. "Rest, friend," he spoke softly. One more burden had been lifted from the warlock's weary soul.

Arthur turned his cheek into the dragon's leathery side. Now he was being cuddled by a dragon. What twists and turns destiny boasted. He closed his eyes, dragons and citadels and warlocks and a son he hadn't known coloring his dreams.

"Arthur?"

"Hm?"

"It's morning."

"What?"

"Open your eyes."

Arthur blinked at misty light streaming through swaying branches. His head was pillowed on a bed of leaves and his body draped in a white wing. Young Merlin peered down at him. Arthur groaned, sitting up. The wing withdrew and its owner stood, her head swinging over next to Merlin's. The dragon's pallid, cornflower blue eyes startled Arthur. He put a hand to his chest. "What happened?"

"We fell asleep."

"Oh. Right." Arthur wobbled to his feet, then assessed the dragon by daylight. She was still large and white, but somehow less intimidating.

"We should get back. Marg will wonder where we've taken off to."

Arthur nodded. He'd met the housekeeper but hadn't spoken a word to her out of ignorance. He wasn't well enough versed in modern language yet.

Merlin patted Aithusa on the head. "Be careful. Keep hidden."

She whined, then waddled back into the cave.

"You trust her, then?" Arthur asked as he watched her leave.

"As much as you can a dragon. She is a wild creature after all." Merlin began to hike back up the ridge, the hood of his cloak still thrown back.

Arthur stared around at the woods bathed in soft focus by the dawn. Funny how the morning could change perspective. The horrible secret Merlin had exposed in the dead of night seemed of little consequence. He caught up to Merlin's side, a thought from last night on his mind. "There was a dragon at Camlann."

"It was Aithusa," Merlin confirmed. "She had given her loyalty to Morgana, but I sent her away from Camlann. I didn't want her to hurt anyone, but I also didn't want her to be hurt. She was angry with me for a while. She'd bonded with Morgana because they were both entrapped by Sarrum."

Arthur's heart sank, the pain he'd experienced when Sarrum casually mentioned his cruelty towards his half-sister coming back to him.

"When we found her, she needed to heal. She'd been through so much, and I think Carwyn's childlike innocence broke through her barriers."

Carwyn again. His son raised by his best friend, a man who himself had grown up without a father. He didn't even realize he'd begun to cry until a tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly.

"Arthur? Are you all right?"

Curse Merlin and his keen sensitivity! He coughed.

"No more hiding means you, too."

Arthur's frustration exploded. "Good dragons, pure magic, my life cut short at Camlann. You and me and her." He jerked a thumb back the way they'd come. "What could Albion possibly need from us? We're out of time and place."

Merlin sighed and shrugged. "There must be some reason destiny calls a king from the middle ages and a sorcerer with fifteen hundred years of experience."

"But you don't know."

"Not yet. We just need to take it slow. Be patient."

"Patience," Arthur sighed. He'd never really excelled at that. Merlin apparently had it in spades. Ugh. All this emotional stuff. He'd rarely given voice to his heart, especially where Merlin was concerned, and in the last two weeks they'd said more than they ever had in seven years. He felt a sudden urge to smack Merlin, just to recapture some normalcy.

He launched an attack, wrapping his arm around Merlin's neck, forcing him into a headlock. His knuckles viciously scrubbed the raven hair.

"What the...Arthur! Stop it! Arthur!" When he didn't let up, Merlin must have used magic, because a forceful shove broke his hold and sent him tumbling to his knees.

Merlin massaged the top of his head. "What are you playing at?"

"All those lies. You don't have stocks and you have to pay somehow."

Merlin stared daggers at him, then huffed a laugh. "So that's the way it is, is it?"

Arthur felt himself pulled to his feet by an invisible hand. Merlin's eyes were gleaming gold. "What are you doing?"

"Payback."

Arthur tried to struggle, but the magic grip tightened as Merlin approached and made his own knuckles a relentless weapon. Arthur tossed his head about trying to get away. "Merlin! I'll...I'll..."

"You'll what, sire?"

"Something!" Merlin just hooted with laughter and released him. Arthur smoothed down his mussed hair.

A string of incomprehensible language ushered from the backdoor. Arthur glanced up at the housekeeper. She finished and ambled across the lawn with a large basket. He had noticed she liked to string up sheets for drying instead of employing the laundry contraption.

Merlin giggled and Arthur raised his eyebrows at him for a translation. "She thinks it's ridiculous when grown men act like spoiled children."

Arthur laughed and reached out to ruffle Merlin's hair. The warlock jerked back, but didn't retaliate. Arthur punched his shoulder and they entered the house side by side.