Arthur stormed into Gaius' quarters, sure he'd see Merlin and Gaius both hunched over dusty tomes on the workbench, but saw only Gaius, bleary-eyed, struggling out of his blankets to sit up. He rubbed his eyes, his voice anxious, "What news, Merlin?"
As he finally realized it was Arthur at the door, Gaius quickly rose to his feet, bowing his head. "Sire?"
Arthur had no patience for formalities and spoke quickly, his anger at finding Gaius sleeping barely held in check. "Why are you abed? And where is Merlin?"
He didn't wait for an answer, but strode to Merlin's bedroom door and flung it open, stepping inside. He found it empty and cold, but a candle still flickered on the crate Merlin used as a bedside table.
Moonlight poured in through the open window shutter, and Arthur held his breath as he saw a silhouetted form on the sill. It was Merlin's dragon statue, exactly like the one Arthur had seen the Dragon Lord carving in the woods before he was killed, the one he had seen splinter in a dozen pieces on his own chamber floor.
He crossed to it and took it in his hands, turning it this way and that for any sign that it had been repaired. Under one wing, a thin sliver of wood was missing. Not broken off or even split away, just missing, as though- of course.
Merlin had collected every piece from the floor of Arthur's chamber, though he'd apparently missed one small sliver.
This was proof of Merlin's abilities, finally, and tangible. As he held it in his hand, he heard Gaius' soft footsteps coming to stop in the doorway.
Without turning, he placed the statue in his cloak pocket and looked out over Camelot. Merlin's view was breathtaking.
"Where is he, Gaius? The library?" When Gaius didn't answer, Arthur turned and gave him an impatient glare. "Where did he go?"
"Sire, he..." Gaius bowed again. "He has left Camelot to seek help."
Arthur couldn't believe it - Merlin went alone to seek help? "From whom? And where?"
Gaius hesitated again and Arthur found himself clenching his fists to keep from shaking the old man. It wouldn't do to lose control, not even if it would make him feel better.
"Sire, he knows someone who might have experience with this type of magic. Though he cannot return to Camelot with Merlin, he may be able to give valuable advice about curing the King." Gaius looked nervous, and he was obviously choosing his words with even greater care than usual.
"Which direction does he travel?" Arthur asked, with every intention of following on his swiftest horse. Merlin couldn't have gotten far with his broken ribs. When Gaius shook his head and raised his hands as if he didn't know, Arthur gritted his teeth. "Fine, if you will not tell me, I'll track him myself."
As he pushed past the old man to leave, Gaius sighed and sat heavily down on Merlin's bed. He looked as if he'd lost Merlin already, and Arthur instantly regretted his earlier, hastily-shouted threat.
"I would not murder him, Gaius, nor you." Arthur placed his hand over his cloak pocket, the statue a solid weight inside. "I will, however, have the truth, and his loyalty."
"The truth can be a dangerous weapon, My Lord. But whatever else he is, Merlin is loyal to you and to Camelot. You have my word."
Nodding, Arthur left to find Merlin.
Arthur flew down the tower steps to the armoury, slipping on a mail apron and sending word for his horse to be prepared. By the time he reached the stables, all was ready. He leapt into the saddle and rode north at the stable-hand's direction, then west by the guard's description of Merlin's route out of the city.
He was easy enough to track, Merlin being the least subtle of anyone Arthur knew. When the broken blades of tall weeds gave way to the scent of crushed grass and the distance between hoof-prints showed Merlin's pace slowing from canter to trot to walk, Arthur dismounted. He placed his steps on the very outline of Merlin's, the dew not yet frozen to frost.
He could see his breath in the air, it was so cold, and when he held it to better listen, he heard a sound like the wind gusting along the tree-line. As he neared the stand of trees, he saw the bows bending in the unnaturally strong wind, his hair whipping around wildly.
Pushing through the arching saplings, he saw Merlin standing in a clearing, looking up at the sky as if stargazing, arm outstretched to the heavens. Arthur followed Merlin's line of sight and had to bite down hard on his tongue to keep from shouting a warning. His hand tightened on Excalibur and his legs shook with the suppressed urge to run to Merlin's aid.
But Merlin wasn't running; he didn't even have a weapon in his upraised hand. In the darkness, Arthur could see his eyes, those eyes that smiled and filled too often with tears and spoke truths Arthur wondered if Merlin even realized - those eyes were glowing.
Merlin opened his mouth and hissed into the sky, smooth syllables loud and clear, though they seemed like whispers as they were carried away on the wind.
And then Merlin's arm fell to his side, the light in his eyes dying away as the great dragon landed before him.
Merlin never heard Kilgharrah speak in the dragon's tongue, though he knew on some level that they were neither one speaking the King's language. He'd used magic to call the dragon, of course, but it had been a request, an urgent request with a bit of a reminder of how much Kilgharrah owed him behind it.
The dragon always came, though sometimes he complained about the hour or the long journey.
"You are fortunate I was so nearby and the game was so thin on this cold night, Young Warlock," Kilgharrah laughed, his head ducking low as if to look Merlin directly in the eye.
"I would not have called if I hadn't good reason." Merlin took a deep breath. "Arthur is in trouble and I don't know what to do. Everything I've tried has failed. I need your help."
Kilgharrah's deep chuckle shook the earth beneath his feet. "You are not skilled in deception, Merlin, haven't you been told that before?"
"But Arthuris in trouble!" he protested, knowing that if he so much as said Uther's name, the dragon would refuse to help.
"Arthur is not in danger. You seek me out to find a cure for Uther. Yes, I know of his... affliction."
Merlin looked at Kilgharrah's brow ridge, hoping if he didn't meet the dragon's eyes, his face wouldn't give so much away. He shook his head. "It's not just the King. We haven't completed the Rites. We don't even know what the seventh task is, and if Uther dies, the throne will be in limbo until Arthur finishes the Ascension."
"You wish to know what the seventh Rite is, then?" Kilgharrah asked, sceptically.
It wasn't the whole truth, but Merlin figured while he had the great dragon here, it could do no harm to listen. "Yes, Arthur cannot take the throne without it - you must know of Camelot's ancient pact with the Old Religion."
"I am aware of it, and I know that which you seek, Merlin," the dragon nodded. "But I will not tell you again, for you obviously do not heed my advice."
"I've done almost everything you've ever told me to do! What advice have you given that I have not taken to heart, if not acted upon?" Merlin was angry, but he was careful not to let it show in his voice.
"Think, Merlin," Kilgharrah said with amusement. "Think about the first thing I told you, about what I've been telling you all these moons."
Merlin nodded, his hands spreading to show how unhelpful the answer was. "Arthur and I have a joined destiny. We are - I don't see how this is relevant to the seventh Rite!"
"You are making things far too complicated."
"How am I? You speak in riddles and all I'm left with are more questions," Merlin shouted, his patience slipping. "We share a destiny; I am to help him become a great King."
"You began that task the day you met him, Young Warlock. What's more, you've seen him through every Rite, have you not?" Kilgharrah narrowed his eyes as if daring Merlin to contradict him.
"I have," Merlin admitted. "Will he have to begin again without my aid? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"
Kilgharrah's laugh boomed this time, and Merlin covered his ears until the dragon began speaking in a low rumble again. "No, Merlin, he will not ascend this throne without your aid. You are the seventh Rite."
Merlin gaped up at the dragon, taking a step back. "I- how can I be? I can't be! How can I help him if he must defeat me?"
Kilgharrah rose up on his haunches, stretching his head high into the air, laughter shaking the ground beneath Merlin's feet. "That would be something to see, but again, you have assumed incorrectly. He will not face you in combat."
Merlin's head was spinning, and he couldn't for the life of him suss out what Kilgharrah was trying to tell him. "I don't understand. Please tell me, Kilgharrah."
"I have not been speaking lies to you, Merlin. You truly are two sides of the same coin, your destiny is his and his yours," The Great Dragon said, lowering his head again to look Merlin in the eye. "Your souls must be bound together. You will complete the Rites of Ascension as one."
The wind churned around him as Kilgharrah spread his wings and drew them forwards and back, pushing himself into the air. "You must do this, Merlin, or Camelot and her king will suffer throughout the Pendragon dynasty."
Unable to process what the dragon had just told him, unable even to think, Merlin threw his hands into the churning air, pleading for the dragon to wait. "Don't go! I don't understand. Help me understand, please!"
Kilgharrah hovered before him, great wings beating gusts that took Merlin's breath away. "Very well, if you cannot reason it out for yourself," he teased. "Morgana is being influenced by a token she keeps on her person always. Find and destroy it, and the King may be cured, though I can hardly hope for your success. The sorcerer responsible is close to Morgana, but I will not tell you who has used her magic to injure Uther. You must be far more vigilant from now on, Merlin. Sorcery is deep within Camelot's walls, and Uther has murdered many warlocks who would have aided him rather than turn against him."
Shocked that he hadn't noticed such a magical item on Morgana before, Merlin nodded and yelled, "My thanks, Kilgharrah. Tell me, before you go, how I am to bind myself to Arthur? Are we not already bound by destiny?"
"You are destined for many things, Merlin, but destinies can be changed, therefore it alone does not sway the Old Religion. Do not assume you are the only one who must submit. Neither of you will succeed alone."
"But how can it be done? How can I explain all of this to Arthur without revealing my magic?"
"You are stronger than you think, Warlock, and I do not speak of your magic. You have a heart full of mercy, loyalty and courage, whether you are able to recognize it or not. Arthur will submit to the bonding, and not only for the good of Camelot."
Merlin shook his head in disbelief. "Why would he agree, if not for Camelot?"
The dragon tilted his head as if surprised. "You do not know? Well, then, open your eyes, Merlin. The answer is very nearby."
"Not close enough," he whispered against the wind as he watched the dragon disappear into the night sky.
"Are you mad?" Arthur shouted, sheathing Excalibur and grabbing Merlin by the shoulders to look him over, then to shake him. "What were you thinking, Merlin? You could have been killed!"
Merlin stared at Arthur, disbelieving, his heart thick in his throat. He tried to speak, tried to move, but Arthurknew now... it was over. Just like that, he and Arthur-
"Merlin! Answer me!" Arthur shouted in his face, giving him another hard shake.
Merlin blinked, swallowing hard. He looked at the ground, shaking his head. "He wouldn't kill a Dragon Lord."
"What-" Arthur stepped away from him, hand going to the hilt of Excalibur.
That simple, unconscious act completely ripped Merlin apart. He closed his eyes and fell to his knees, expecting Arthur to strike him any moment. He braced himself, fingers digging into the cold, damp grass beneath his legs, determined not to move. "I know you cannot let me go, but I'm begging you, Arthur, please let me do one last thing in Camelot before...," he trailed off, unable to say the words.
"Oh, get up, Merlin," Arthur said in obvious disdain, kicking hard at his leg. "No one's taking you to the dungeons or lighting the pyre."
Merlin looked up, his face heating with shame at Arthur's glare, his vision nothing but a blur as he took the arm that abruptly yanked him to his feet.
"Did you know?" he asked. That had to be the explanation for Arthur's leniency, though even at that, Merlin didn't understand. Arthur was loyal to Camelot and his father first.
"That you could talk to dragons? Of course I didn't know," Arthur gritted out, "but I will know, and every detail. Explain yourself." Arthur's eyes flashed angrily, and Merlin knew he wasn't entirely in the clear yet
He took a deep breath and reined in his emotions as best he could. "I am a Dragon Lord." Merlin shook his head as Arthur began to interrupt. He knew what he was going to ask. "I didn't know until we found Balinor. As he was... dying, he told me. He said it was up to me to try to tame the dragon and save Camelot."
"That's why you insisted on going with me to kill it," Arthur accused, eyes narrowing. "Which I obviously didn't do."
"No. Kilgharrah knocked you unconscious and I-. I spoke with him. I became a Dragon Lord, though I didn't know if I would succeed until that moment. I still can hardly believe it, but-"
"Kilgharrah," Arthur said as if in an angry daze. "That beast has a name, and you use it as casually as if you two were friends."
"Believe me, we are not friends."
Arthur positively scowled at him. "I heard him laughing, Merlin."
"He was laughing at me, as you do daily, I might remind you," he snapped, though where his anger was coming from, he couldn't say. Arthur was as much thrown into this destiny as he was. "The dragon swore allegiance when I spared his life. He knows he will be killed the instant he harms Camelot in any way."
Arthur shook his head, looking as disappointed as Merlin had ever seen him. "Even you can't possibly be stupid enough to trust dragons."
Merlin smiled, though he didn't feel a bit of it. "Well, only just the one, seeing as he's the last of his kind. Wyverns, too, a bit, though they don't speak back and I wouldn't trust them as far as I could-"
"Will you shut up, Merlin!" Arthur yelled, face screwed up in a mixture of pain and confusion. He took a deep breath and glared, but his voice was a bit calmer. "You're really a Dragon Lord?"
Merlin nodded. "It passes from father to son when the father dies," he said, hoping his careful annunciation would get his message across. "He... Balinor was the last one, and now I am."
"Balinor was... your father?" Arthur furrowed his brow and stepped back from Merlin again, this time as if Merlin had dealt him a blow to the chest.
"I never knew, not until the night we left Camelot to find him. Gaius told me then." Merlin shook his head, looking away at the trees in the distance, pulling his regret away from the surface. "I never knew he was alive."
Arthur wiped a hand over his face, pity written plainly on his features. "Why would you not tell me as much? Surely I've earned that much of your trust by now."
If he was bitterly honest with himself, he'd known Arthur wouldn't have had him killed. He knew if Arthur could, he might even help Merlin escape. After all, Arthur had helped him flee Camelot before.
But Arthur wasn't King yet, and Uther clearly had no mercy left in him.
Merlin continued carefully. "Your father hunted down and executed every other Dragon Lord, remember? Only Balinor escaped, and you saw how he lived in exile. Would you wish that for me?"
Arthur scowled at him. "You know I would not, but neither will I be lied to by my-," he broke off, lips tightly closed on what he'd been able to say.
"Your servant?" Merlin asked, swallowing the thick lump in his throat. "Or your friend?"
"You should not have kept it from me," Arthur shouted. "You should have told me, damn the consequences."
Merlin nodded his agreement, keeping his voice calm. "You have every right to be angry. I was, too - I was furious when I learned of Balinor's existence, then of Uther driving him away. When I saw him, living in that cave..." Merlin kept his voice low, but stepped closer to be sure Arthur heard him. "Not only would the King have me dead if he knew what I am, he made certain I could never know my father."
Arthur stared him in the eye for a long moment, then sighed, his anger seeming to slip. "I am not him, Merlin. I would not execute you for something you cannot control and did not choose. As for exile, well, you'd never survive it."
Merlin smiled just a little, wondering that Arthur could recover his sense of humour so quickly he'd just seen and heard. "I planned to tell you when you became king, but, anxious as I was for that day, I couldn't let you lose your father. I had to ask Kilgharrah for help."
Arthur looked at the sky where Kilgharrah had been. "My father is a stubborn man, but I cannot imagine life without him."
"I have lived my entire life without mine, and I've always... felt his absence." Merlin wiped his sleeve across his eyes and swallowed hard, trying not to cry. "That blade was meant for my heart, not his, you know. I sometimes think he came after us just to protect me. He didn't even know about me. I told him and not a day later, he died to save me."
"He wouldn't have sacrificed himself if he hadn't been an honourable man, Merlin," Arthur said softly. "He would be proud of you."
Merlin shook his head, knowing it wasn't true. His chest ached as he spoke, but he couldn't stand to hear Arthur's pity. "What for? I'm a servant, and a bad one, at that. I'm not honourable in the least-" he stopped himself. No, Arthur had heard enough for one night, and if their friendship died here, well, Merlin only deserved that. "Never mind. We need to get back to the citadel."
"Merlin," Arthur said warningly, "We're not done here."
"The rest can wait, Sire," Merlin said, picking up his satchel. "Kilgharrah told me what needs to be done. We should get on with it."
He was determined to get it right this time, and to cure Uther. He would think about the seventh Rite after.
"You were speaking another tongue, but I distinctly heard the dragon say my father's name, and Morgana's. Tell me what was said."
"There is too much to explain right now. We've wasted enough time already," Merlin said, striding from the clearing, Arthur calling after him.
"Merlin, get back here!" Arthur yelled as he followed. "I will know what that dragon said. Now."
"Do you want to save your father or not?" Merlin asked, untying his horse's reins and nodding at where Arthur's horse whickered impatiently a few metres away, not waiting for Arthur's answer. "We should hurry, Sire."
Merlin watch him as he turned to jog to his horse, wishing there was time to explain everything, to properly ask for Arthur's forgiveness. He could never make up for the lies he'd told, whether or not they had been necessary.
They quickly mounted and began down the road to Camelot at a fast walk.
"Well?"
"Promise to hear me out?" Merlin asked, deciding then and there that Arthur should know the truth. There was no way he could come up with a plausible story that fast, and besides, he would need help getting to Morgana and finding the amulet.
Arthur gestured impatiently. "Yes, Merlin, now out with it!"
Merlin took a breath and continued. "Morgana is the traitor, but not by choice, and no one else need know. She has been controlled by way of a magical item Morgause gave her. She apparently keeps it with her at all times. She may be wearing it-"
"That God-awful bracelet she says helps her sleep! She never takes it off!" Arthur said, the light flooding back into his eyes. "But she's had that for ages. Do you think- oh, God. She cast the spell on father? But how? If the magic is Morgause's and she's not in Camelot - she's not, is she?"
"Not that I know of. There's something I- Arthur-" He broke off, a sinking feeling in his stomach. What would he do if someone gave up his own secret so casually? But he must, so Arthur would understand that it wasn't her fault. "Morgana has magic."
"What?" Arthur looked devastated, as though Merlin had just told him Morgana had a fatal disease.
Merlin bowed his head, looking at the leather reins in his hands. "She's had it since before Morgause came to Camelot."
Arthur pinched his nose between his finger and thumb, shaking his head, his entire body looking heavier somehow. "How can you be sure?"
Taking a deep breath, Merlin softly answered, "She told me herself when the nightmares started coming true."
"Yes- She... she told me of them, but I never believed her. I thought she was ill, or..." Arthur scoffed, "or in love with me. God, she was trying to tell me, wasn't she?"
"Yes. She just wanted someone to talk to."
"You helped her?" Arthur 's head was bowed, but Merlin watched him carefully.
"No, I tried, but... I couldn't really do anything to help. I hoped she'd tell you, that you'd believe her."
"I'm sure I knew on some level," Arthur said, his eyes catching Merlin's and staring for a moment, their horses matched step-for-step. "I must've known."
"That's exactly what I thought when she told me," Merlin agreed, feeling as though he was discussing himself and Arthur instead of Morgana. He hoped, he prayed that someday Arthur would remember this conversation. "I kept thinking back to different situations, wondering if this moment or that was her trying to let me see what magic was doing to her."
Arthur rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, sighing.
"When she came to Gaius about her magic... Arthur, I've never seen a girl as terrified as she was. I think it's why Morgause chose her - she was already so vulnerable and, well, she has ties to the crown." Merlin looked at the ground, unable to meet Arthur's eyes.
He could have been describing himself.
His steed shied as its flank touched Arthur's leg, and Merlin pulled away, regretting the distance between them. Arthur's head was bowed, his eyes closed.
"Are you all right?" he asked, worried that Arthur was barely reacting to the news.
Arthur shook his head once, then gave Merlin a false-bright smile. "It's difficult to know what to think about someone so close to me having magic. My father drilled his beliefs into me, but I know Morgana. I love her as a sister. If she has magic, I cannot hate it or her."
"You're taking this better than I imagined," Merlin said, not allowing hope to wriggle in.
"You're a Dragon Lord, Merlin. There's not much that could shock me about anyone else at this point," Arthur scoffed, and Merlin thought he heard genuine amusement underneath it. He straightened in the saddle, his smile falling away. "I bet Morgana re-cast the spell on my father after we left Camelot."
"Yes," he replied. "That would be my guess. I'm sure she didn't know what she was doing, Arthur."
They rode in silence for a long while, clearing the forest and riding alongside a field of withered wheat.
"If that is the case... you and Gaius didn't fail."
"No, I don't think we did fail, not at removing the curse, anyway. Kilgharrah said we will be able to cure him again."
"When this is over, when she realizes what she's been made to do, I imagine Morgana will be inconsolable," Arthur said. "Will you... help her somehow?"
The question was loaded, and Merlin wasn't sure what to say. Did he confess his magic now and get it over with? It seemed too much to put on Arthur's shoulders after everything the night had already revealed to him.
Merlin hadn't expected compassion from Arthur for Morgana, or concern, but both were written all over Arthur's face.
"I doubt I could do any good, but I'll send for Gaius. He'll have a calming draught, and we can research to see-"
"Stop it, Merlin."
He bit his lips closed, but his questioning look only seemed to fuel Arthur's anger.
"I meant it when I said I didn't want you lying to me. I don't expect you to tell me every detail of your life, but I won't have you mincing words to get around the truth, either." Arthur turned away from him, his chin lifted as if daring Merlin to reply.
He thought carefully about what Arthur had asked him, and what he'd said in response. He'd asked Merlin to help Morgana, but how did he think a manservant was going to accomplish that? "I don't want to mislead you, Arthur, but the King-"
Arthur rounded on him, his voice low and angry. "Listen to me, Merlin. You will not lie to me. I don't tolerate lying from my knights, and I won't tolerate it from you. If you need to protect yourself, then find another way to do so." He took a deep breath as if trying to rein in his anger. "If you lie to me, I cannot trust you, no matter what your motivations. Do you understand?"
Merlin nodded. "Yes, Sire." He understood, but Arthur didn't. Merlin was so deep in his web of lies, he wasn't sure he could ever be really truthful again.
Arthur shifted in his saddle, leaning close to lay a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "You and I will talk later, but father is still in danger as long as Morgana's wearing that bracelet. I'm going to ride ahead." Arthur jerked his steed into a cantor toward the city and called back over his shoulder, "Unless your ribs are well enough to keep up!"
Merlin's hand flew to cover his injured ribs, which hadn't so much as twinged after that last healing. Had Arthur noticed Merlin wasn't favouring them anymore? Surely not.
Digging his heels in, Merlin tightened his hold on the reins and grinned. Relief washed over him as swiftly as the frigid night air, relief that the King would be all right, that he hadn't been responsible for Uther's regression and that Morgana wasn't acting of her own volition all these months.
Above all, though, he was grateful. Arthur knew he was a Dragon Lord.
And whatever happened tomorrow, tonight he was riding side-by-side with Arthur, galloping back to Camelot.
