Chapter 7

A/N: Once again, no reunion. But: the feast! We' re getting closer, people. Gods, I feel awful for keeping you so hung up.

Immediately, Merlin called the pack together. Once every one was present he sent them a clear message. The pack, safe inside a magical shield, led by Leon- I will no longer be here to guide you, but you will still be protected. Above that, each received a warmth associated with affection. Especially the one Merlin had baptised Gilli, the adventurous whelp he'd saved back in the days- an orphan and all but his adoptive son. He'd miss him more than the rest, although the young Gwaine-as-a-wolf landed him in trouble a wolf shouldn't be able to cause. Merlin now completely understood Gaius; he even had developed nearly exactly the same relationship with Gilli as his guardian had with him. After all, no one was to know what dangerous (and frankly embarrassing) mess Merlin had saved him from- his stupidity could have caused not only his demise but the others' as well, and wolves are not known for sentimentality if the pack is or was in danger. It could still get him thrown out of the pack. Merlin could do nothing but hope he had changed and Merlin had taught him enough.

Gilli, whimpering, "hugged" Merlin and Merlin did the same- one last time. He retreated again into the circle of his family, who all seemed sad to see their beloved leader leave. Then, Merlin turned towards Leon and bowed to him. Familiarity struck him- he'd seen this before, that first glorious encounter, back when... But that was gone now, it was the past- behind him. He had a far brighter future than this. Yet. Yet... He would miss them. Merlin turned tail and fled the scene he would miss so, despite his destiny: the clearing before the cave, his pack- but most of all, his almost-son.

Once again, Merlin set out to Camelot. He ran as fast as his wolf-body could carry him, faster than any man or horse. If you asked Merlin, it was still far too slow.

It was well past midday when he finally arrived. He could hear the noises from far away. It sounded just like any other time there was something big going on- a tournament, the spring festival, Arthur's birthday... Merlin's heart ached with homesickness. It was a good thing he knew he'd be able to come back. Had his Dragonlord powers not returned, it would have destroyed him, Merlin knew, seeing his home even more happy and free than before.

Merlin made himself invisible, went through the gates and weaved through the masses in the streets. Even though he tried his best, a startled shout would drift up after him once in a while and he would occasionally knock some people over or into others. Although, if Merlin was being honest, that arrogant prat who was making room for himself with his elbows- well, he deserved it. And Sophie-the-Cook's-daughter (who had been sweet on Leo-the-messenger-boy since forever, but was incredibly shy) was probably more than glad something had pushed her into Leo's arms. Merlin thought they both deserved it, too. Looking back, Merlin couldn't keep in his wolfish grin: they were kissing. Finally.

Merlin passed the time until the actual banquet like any other citizen of Camelot: wishing he had more everything. He gaped in awe at the acrobats and jugglers, admired crafty jewellery, smelled delicious food, laughed with the jesters, tried to find out the tricks of handy magicians and danced with lithe paws on the tones of lively music. His senses only heightened the amazing sensations and Merlin would have laughed out loud if he could. Secretly, Merlin used his magical powers to make things more fun for himself or others. He gave a frightened lost child a hunch to follow back home, multiplied coins thrown in hats unnoticed, helped acrobats jump just that little bit higher. He even made himself look like a dog to scare a cat known to scratch every child that crossed it's path, and chased it- accompanied with loud cheers from the on looking children.

He roamed the buzzing castle and discovered a make-believe training session on the deserted training grounds by a couple of kids swinging with sticks or wooden swords. Still looking like a dog, Merlin sat by the sides next to the other children and cheered the fighting ones on. He barked and wagged his tail in excitement during the "fight", butted his head to the victors' thighs and licked the losing boys' faces, who laughed and pushed him off, mock-berating him. Somehow, every child knew there was no danger coming from this big dog and they enjoyed having the kind animal around.

After a while, the Knights or the Round Table appeared on the grounds- Leon, Gwaine, Elyan and Percival. The children tried to get away, scared the Knights would berate them. Instead, Gwaine stopped them, took a wooden sword from the rack and dared them: ' Who of you thinks he can beat me?' . The boys looked at each other confused and a little bit hopeful. Merlin pushed the baker's boy forward; he hadn't seen him fight yet even though he hadn't been on the side either. Gwaine smiled kindly: ' Brave man! Come on then!' and held his arms open invitingly. The boy took a breath and tightened his grip on the little wooden sword in his hand. Then, he attacked. Merlin was a bit surprised by the following spectacle.

Gwaine was being easy on him at the start, but the fight continued and- the kid was actually quite good. He had an amazing skill for a boy his age, a baker's boy no less. After a couple of minutes, he was obviously tiring, but refusing to give up. Merlin had seen Gwaine's expression often enough during training to see he was looking for a way to make his loss believable. He shouldn't have bothered really. At the very first opportunity, Merlin made him slip.

With a heavy oomph Gwaine landed on the ground. Immediately, the boy was on him and tickled him mercilessly. The boy was giggling excitedly and Gwaine squirmed and rolled around, laughing. 'I surrender, I surrender! Have mercy on a poor knight, noble warrior!', he cried and he held his hands up in the air. The little band of children was applauding their own loudly. The knights were laughing hard, secretly shooting awed looks at the boy. Merlin had a feeling he would be asked to join the younger knights' training as soon as he was the right age. Eventually, Gwaine stood up, clapped the boy on his back and said to him seriously: 'That was a very good fight. Well done.' The boy blushed and looked at his feet. 'What's your name?' 'Gareth'. Merlin had the tingling feeling he'd just witnessed something very important.

'All right, then,' Elyan suddenly yelled as he picked up the wooden sword,' who of you lot thinks he can beat me?' Merlin left the grounds to let the little children –that included the Knights- play and wave their sticks. As it was getting late and Merlin was getting hungry, he wondered: 'I wonder if the kitchen staff would notice a dead chicken dancing away?'

They didn't.

After enjoying the chicken he had danced very sneakily out of the kitchen (okay, so he had used the chaos following the news about Sophie an Leo kissing- there had been cheers and hugs all around and lots of grumbling-but-smiling people paying other, beaming people- the shy love couple was a bit of a legend in Lower-Camelot) Merlin turned himself invisible again. It was time for the banquet. Oh joy, Merlin thought. But after sitting by Arthur's side and listening to the animated and frankly amusing conversations between Arthur and Queen Annis (the sneaky woman had the incredible talent to get Arthur to babble and spill all his embarrassing childhood), he discovered it actually was. Huh, who knew?

'Of course', Merlin thought exasperated. He should have known, really: no banquet in Camelot was complete without some sorcerer trying to kill Arthur. Also, the sorcerers seemed to find mid- speech the perfect time to make a grand, diva-like entrance. Tonight's sorcerer had the worst timing Merlin had ever seen. 'Arthur Pendragon,' the sorcerer yelled loudly,' you shall pay for-' 'You have by far the worst timing I have ever seen!'' Arthur interrupted him loudly. Merlin blinked. He hadn't transferred his thoughts, had he? And then he decided, no, he hadn't, the sorcerer just had that bad a timing. The sorcerer screamed insulted: 'I do not! My timing is perfect!'. His voice went about five notes higher at the end of the sentences. 'That is just sad', Merlin thought pityingly. 'Well, do you know what you interrupted?', Arthur asked. The sorcerer shook his head. 'Then how do you know if your timing was good or bad?' The sorcerer gaped, and opened and closed his mouth in a most brilliant fish-drowning-on-dry-land-imitation. He spluttered: ' Well, I- You- Your fa- Gah!'. Merlin had just enough time to think, 'By the gods, did he just actually stomp his foot?', when the sorcerer shot a spell Arthur's way.

Instinctively, Merlin jumped up from behind Arthur, over his throne and in front of him. Around Arthur and himself he formed his usual protecting orb that swallowed the spell upon contact. People who hadn't jumped up yet, did so now with startled shouts. Soldiers, Knights, Kings and Queens unsheathed their swords and nobles and servants grabbed knives or daggers in almost practiced movements. Apparently, they had learned their lesson to not go to a Pendragon-banquet unarmed or unprepared. Good thinking.

Arthur shouted: 'Hold!'. Gaping, with an expression between sorrow and hope, he stretched out his hand towards the edge of the orb. When he touched it, everyone made a move as if to do something. But the orb just shimmered and did not hurt him. 'Merlin?', Arthur whispered nearly soundlessly. Merlin winced, It's not time yet, and stayed as he was: invisible and between his king and the dangerous sorcerer. Because pathetic as he may be, he was still pretty powerful.

For a moment, in which Merlin knew Arthur was waiting for an answer he could not yet have, nothing happened. Arthur closed his eyes, sighed and then said: 'I'm safe'. As one, the weapons were being aimed at the attacking sorcerer only. Who had turned remarkably darker. He scoffed: ' What dog dares to shame himself by protecting this disgusting king?' Merlin couldn't resist.

A loud and threatening growl and bark echoed through the Great Hall, causing all the guest to jump nearly a foot in the air. The shield flickered and the sorcerer was thrown to the ground as if actually attacked by a large dog. Lying on the floor, the sorcerer looked up at something nobody else could see. 'By the Gods,' he whispered terrified, 'not a dog, a wolf'. The word resonated in Arthur's mind. Wolf... His dream in the cave...

A loud gasp- Arthur focused back on the scene before him. The sorcerer had paled considerably. 'That can't be, Emrys is dead!'. Why did that name ring a bell, Arthur wondered. Even more so as he saw Iseldir, the Druid leader and ambassador he had secretly invited, tense, widen his eyes then let his jaw drop. At that exact moment, Arthur knew it was something big, very big. Nothing ever surprised Iseldir, he had learned, and nothing ever unbalanced him. The man was close to tears of happiness, now. What was going on?

The sorcerer was struggling violently, but was held down by an invisible weight, and his eyes glowed gold. The gold then bled from his eyes and formed a small mist twirling in the air. 'No, not my magic, without it- please, I won't again, I promise on my magic' , the sorcerer begged desperately. The mist descended back down into the sorcerer, who let out a relieved sigh, then fainted. The orb disappeared and Arthur had the prickling feeling a large animal came to stand by his side. He was seriously fighting the urge to try and pet it. There was a deadly silence hanging in the air.

'What had I been saying again?' Arthur suddenly asked lightly, ' Oh yes! As long as I have proof that not all magic or every magic-owner is evil, the ban on magic will be lifted. I'd say this just proved my point.'

It was later told the cheers could be heard miles away. Which was an utter lie, of course.

They could be heard everywhere, echoed by the land and in the hearts of its people. Albion was close.

Kilgarrah, Merlin sent to his brother, it has begun. Show yourself as quick as you can, please. I can't stand this skin any longer.

Two minutes later, a young messenger boy- who happened to be Leo- burst into the Great Hall, where a party was starting to get in full swing: ' Sire, a talking dragon!'. Merlin was pleasantly surprised. It was nice to know people followed your orders once in a while. He now understood why Arthur had that expression on his face whenever he did something without complaining or even without being ordered to. It was really nice.