Gwaine waits a beat and then tilts his head to the side.

"So," he says, despite the odd look of contemplation in his eyes. "What else have you hidden from us, Merlin?" He doesn't mean for it to sound accusatory, but it does and Merlin doesn't look up, his eyes trained on the ground.

And then he does. "My father – he – there's a dragon – "

"You're trying to tell me that your father is a dragon? I don't belie-"

"No," Merlin says, closing his eyes and sighing, as if to ward against something. "No, no. He - he wasn't a dragon, he was a dragonlord, he was the last of his kind."

And then it dawns on him.

"You said was."

Merlin's eyes remain closed but he nods, "I did."

"He's dead?"

Another nod.

"So if he was the last of his kind then why are we even discussing dragons? Wouldn't we need a dragonlord to help us?"

"He's not the last one."

"Merlin! You just said he was the last of his kind - wait," Gwaine frowned, pieces falling into slots, like a well oiled machine. "You said was. As in, he was at one point the last of his kind. But he's dead – it passed to you?"

Merlin's nod is barely there and it's terse and strained but it's there and Gwaine whistles before sighing. He stepped forward and clasped Merlin's arm and stared him in the eyes before lowering his head.

"I'm sorry."

Merlin nodded again.

"S'alright, it was a long time ago, and I'm - I'm not okay with it, the way he died, what he went through before hand, how he had to hide because of who he was and how I never got to actually know him because of it. But it doesn't hurt like it did at first."

Gwaine nodded before taking a step back and nodding "Well then, call your dragon, do your dragonlord thingy."

Merlin snorted but nodded, throwing his head back and letting out a string of vowels that sounded like gibberish to Gwaine's ears mixed in with random words every three sentences, it was – strange, and kind of amazing as well, but – yeah, it was probably one of the strangest things he'd ever seen.

He would take that back when - after an hour of waiting - a great beast with intelligent golden eyes landed with an audible thud and tremor and actually bowed its head to the ground before Merlin. Merlin, who smiled slightly and bowed right back, a deep thing, his long arms nearly sweeping the ground.

"Kilgharrah. I'm sorry for calling you, I know -"

"Quiet, Young Warlock, I said I would serve you for as long as I can. Now, who have you brought with you?"

And - holy shit, Gwaine thought, it talks!

"Kilgharrah, Gwaine. Gwaine, Kilgharrah."

At that Gwaine thinks the great beast grins, his large scaly lips pulling back to reveal teeth - lots and lots of teeth. He tries to grin back – because, the drago – Kilgharrah is huge, and has lots, and lots of teeth – had he mentioned the teeth already?

"Ah, yes. The roguish knight. What interesting company you keep, Young Warlock. Still - he's very loyal, you've made the correct decision. He will be a great assist on your quest to save your king."

"So you know why I've called you?"

"Yes, Young Warlock. But I can't carry you all the way to your destination. There are some things you'll have to do on your own."

Merlin nodded.

"Thank you, Kilgharrah."

The great beast blinked then and lowered itself to the ground, settling on its great scaly forelimbs. Wings folding in. Merlin grinned and stepped forward, scrabbling up the dragon's side and settling himself on top. Gwaine shrugged his shoulders once, grabbed the bags that had fallen from the horses when they'd run, and followed.

"You'll love flying, Gwaine. There's nothing like it in this world."

Gwaine had never felt so glad to see solid ground in his life. Ever. He stumbled down the side of the beast, tripping over his own feet and almost falling, all the while Merlin - who was completely fine - flinted around picking up sticks and old pieces of wood, presumably for the fire.

Merlin had been so sure he'd love it, but Gwaine was already dreading climbing onto the creature's back once more. The dragon it's self had settled on the south side of the clearing, curling it's large wings around it's body and wrapping its tail, so that the great creature was curled nearly into a ball. He presumed that the creature was sleeping.

Gwaine sighed and bent down, picking up sticks, to help Merlin

After camp was set up the rest of the night passed in relative silence, Merlin wasn't talking, was nearly silent, and Gwaine didn't want to push him, especially after what he'd revealed about his father, because Gwaine knew from experience that you never healed from losing a parent, he knew that, he'd lost both his.

Merlin would talk; he just needed time, after all this whole experience couldn't have been easy for him. But for all that he was silent, Merlin wasn't inactive, he flinted around the camp sight, shoulders tense and he kept glancing at the creature, until finally it lifted it's great head, although it didn't shift it body, and looked at Merlin, something must have passed between the two because suddenly Merlin was much less tense.

He finally sat and picked at the salty stew they'd made of the dried meat from their saddlebags. Finally, after he'd eaten most of it and Gwaine had been finished for some time, Merlin stood and stretched, bones popping back into place. He sighed and turned to Gwaine.

"I'll take first watch."

Gwaine didn't argue - he wouldn't argue about sleep, he was tired and he was sure having a fire breathing creature on the south side of camp would scare off any bandits, besides. Merlin could protect himself, he thought dryly, had always been able too.

He was woken some time later by the insistent calling of his name. Sitting up he looked around the camp, everything was silent. Merlin was asleep up against a tree, snoring loud enough to wake the dead.

He frowned.

The voice had seemed loud, really loud actually, so wouldn't Merlin - who was normally woken if you dropped a pin - have woken as well? But no, Merlin was still snoring fit to wake the dead so -

"Gwaine!"

And - holy shit, that had been inside his head!

"Young Knight, I must speak with you."

Gwaine slowly turned then and found himself staring into large amber eyes. Years later, he would later deny how high he jumped at the sight. He would also deny asking not to be eaten. The dragon laughed - or what Gwaine assumed was laughter. Would have been laughter if it wasn't a damn dragon laughing at him. And wasn't that a surreal thought?

"Young knight, I promise not to eat you. Now please be quiet, this is a conversation that I'd rather not have the Young Warlock awake for."

Gwaine's brow creased.

"Why?"

"Because he must find out on his own."

Because that wasn't cryptic at all.

"Then why are you telling me? How do you know I won't just tell him anyway?"

The dragon actually laughed.

"I know you won't because you want to protect him."

Gwaine crossed his arms tightly across his chest.

"Fine, tell me."

The dragons head shifted into what appeared to be a nod, before his face seemed to tighten and his eyes seemed to glow impossibly bright.

"There are many things the Young Warlock doesn't know about himself. There are things he has always taken at face value and never looked deeper. Whether out of fear or nearsightedness, I do not know. You must understand Young Knight that when Uther started the purge he did more than just kill, he set forth a prophecy."

Gwaine swallowed, "what prophecy?"

"A prophecy about a king, but more importantly, one about a boy born with magic. A boy who is, was, and will be, meant for greatness. The king behind the king that doesn't want the crown because he fears what power can do, a boy with a knack for trouble and an even greater aversion to all things dark."

"Merlin, has prophecies written about him?"

"Do you doubt it?"

Gwaine looked back at the sleeping man, whose snores could be heard across camp. "No. I don't, not in the least."

"Good, he'll need that. You must remind the Young Warlock that he is human in the most basic sense, he thrives off of people. You must remind him that his magic, this life he lives, it isn't a curse. That being Emrys isn't a curse."

"Being Emrys?"

"That being himself is not a curse."

Gwaine swallowed.

"Who is Emrys?"

The dragon's eyes brightened until Gwaine had to look away because it hurt too much to look at them straight on.

"Emrys - Emrys, is the Young Warlock, or as you know him - Merlin."

Gwaine nodded and then: "What is Emrys?"

The dragon laughed inside Gwaine's mind.

"You are asking the right questions, Young Knight. Emrys is everything. Has always been everything, and always will be everything. He is made up of everything that holds the world together. He is magic, and always will be magic. He is very important Young Knight, so please, protect him. Safeguard him, because sometimes, I fear he will not do it for himself."

Gwaine can do nothing but nod all the while Merlin sleeps on.