Hello! Apologies for the almost two week wait rather than one, but I had some family drama to deal with, not to mention a lovely sickness bug which almost defeated the entire house.

Anyway! I finally managed to write the next chapter for you. Not as much Merlin and Arthur as I had originally planned, but other stuff happened that I hadn't planned either, such is the way of a writer's mind. I have NO control over it. Hope you enjoy, and see you next week! Thank you for reading and reviewing, as always.

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It felt strange to be riding without Merlin by his side; Arthur had ridden out on patrols and quests too often to count over the years, but ever since Merlin had become his manservant, his friend was usually to be found by his side. He felt like he had left something of himself behind, though in a sense, he supposed he had. Arthur was not one to dwell on feelings and friendships, but despite how uncomfortable it made him to admit to such things, he knew that he valued Merlin in much the same way as Guinevere, and, to a slightly lesser extent, his small circle of trusted knights. They were family.

Leon rode beside him, while Gwaine and Percival were slightly behind. They were far from galloping through the forest, but they were certainly setting a decent pace. Leon was keeping his own counsel, perhaps following Arthur's example, and even Gwaine was surprisingly quiet; quiet enough that Percival was shooting him concerned glances every few minutes.

They had not been riding for above half an hour when they all heard something; though perhaps felt something would have been more accurate, for the sound was no more than a whisper on the wind. Arthur pulled his horse to a stop and held a hand up. All four men looked around nervously, but there was nothing to be seen. The whisper of sound echoed above them, and they all looked up.

"Arthur," said Leon urgently.

"I see it," he replied grimly.

Arthur motioned for everyone to gather together under the shelter of the trees, and all four men looked to the skies with trepidation.

"It looks to be bigger than the one we saw at Ismere," remarked Percival.

"Indeed," said Arthur.

"Sire, if it were not for the fact that we all know you vanquished the Great Dragon several years ago, I would say it was the same one."

Arthur looked at Lean's confused face and half shrugged. Truthfully, he did not know what to make of it. The Great Dragon must have been defeated, for it had never returned. The creature had been hell bent on destroying Camelot; that much had been obvious. It had to have been killed.

"I thought that dragons were gone forever from this land," said Percival. "The one at Ismere I thought to be unique."

"As did I," muttered Arthur, a sinking feeling in his stomach. A little voice was nagging at him, one that spoke of Merlin, magic, secrets, and lies.

Surely not.

And yet...

"Gentlemen, we need to follow that dragon," he said firmly, much to everyone's surprise. One by one the knights started voicing questions, but Arthur merely held up a silencing hand.

"There has been much happening lately that has not made much sense, but I understand enough to know that magic is abound at the moment, and that Merlin is in danger. It seems too much of a coincidence for a dragon of all things to turn up, too. I have no doubt that it has something to do with Merlin. We have found no trace of Merlin as of yet, and we know there is a magical threat. The dragon is our only lead, and I say we follow it."

"You think Mordred can control a dragon?" asked Gwaine, his brow furrowed with concern.

"I do not know, but the last time we saw a dragon, Mordred was in the vicinity, so I cannot rule it out."

And so was Merlin, a little voice nagged.

"Also, we need to remember that Morgana was behind all that happened at Ismere, so it's possible that she is the one able to control dragons. She is a High Priestess, and capable of many things, so we cannot rule her out either. Be on your guard."

With that grim piece of advice, the four men stirred their horses into motion and galloped in the direction of the dragon's flight. Thankfully there was a full moon, so even though the dragon was fast, there was light enough to track the dark shape that flew through the sky. It was also fortunate that the dragon slowed and came to land not long after they gave chase, for horses really had no chance of keeping up to speed with so large a winged creature. The only problem they had was whether to approach the dragon with speed or stealth. They had no idea if Mordred was with it, which was bad enough, but if Morgana was present their situation could turn very nasty, very quickly.

Not that a dragon by itself wasn't enough to make things dire.

Arthur reigned his horse in and dismounted carefully, silencing his comrades and gesturing for them to follow. Leon dismounted and stood to Arthur's right, while Percival and Gwaine took the flanks, looking warily around them. Arthur slowly inched forward step by step, using trees to hide his approach. Thankfully all four men were highly trained at being stealthy, so Arthur was confident that they hadn't been heard.

They came to a rather large clearing that was filled with the body of the dragon. It appeared to be resting; not sleeping, but taking deep breaths that rumbled in the wind, making the knights stealthy approach a little redundant. Arthur checked the surrounding area and could find no trace of anyone else present, which seemed odd. Why on earth was there a lone dragon in Camelot, and why would it stop randomly in the middle of the forest?

Still, Arthur could not lose the advantage that they had; they had no hope of defeating a dragon in full flight, but maybe they could do some damage to a restful one. They could not in all conscience leave such a dangerous creature to terrorize their city. Arthur unsheathed his sword and was ready to sound the battle call, but the dragon turned its head and stopped him. Expecting flames at the very least, it was not fire that halted the words on Arthur's lips, but the knowing look that the creature gave him as it gazed steadily into Arthur's eyes.

"You should save your strength for a true foe, young Pendragon. I have no wish to harm you or your good Sir Knights."

Arthur's jaw dropped as the beast turned his head away, basically turning his back on him. Essentially, in fact, trusting him not to attack.

And for the love of Camelot, since when could a dragon talk?

"Um, Arthur?" whispered Gwaine. "What's the plan?"

Arthur lowered his sword and stepped forward carefully, eying the dragon the whole time. He circled the beast until he was facing it, the knights a few paces behind him.

"You do not attack," said Arthur. "Why? You killed hundreds of innocent people and destroyed half of Camelot, yet you trust me not to attack you. Why?"

The dragon lifted its head and once again unnerved Arthur by looking at him directly.

"I was angry. Your father had killed all of my kin and had imprisoned me for two decades. Would not you be angry? Even so, I regret the past. I made an oath never to harm anyone from Camelot again, and I will keep that oath."

"And its because of that oath that you will not attack us? Who did you swear to?"

"It matters not who I made my pledge to, Pendragon, and it is not only my oath that keeps me from attacking you. I do not wish to harm you. To answer your other question, it is not that I trust you not to attack, but that it makes no difference whether you attack or not. What will be, will be."

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again, confused. The dragon blinked slowly, and continued to stare at him.

"I don't understand," he said eventually, and was surprised by a loud rumbling coming from the beast. Was it laughing?

"Ah, two sides of the same coin, indeed," said the dragon, who was clearly amused. "Do not fret, Pendragon; all will make sense soon enough. I am almost sorry that I won't see it."

"Why? Where are you going?" asked Arthur suspiciously, pulling his sword up again. "To join Mordred? Or Morgana?"

The dragon roused itself enough to let out a roar, making all four men step back quickly.

"I am no friend to the witch or the druid boy!"

"That's good news," said Gwaine in an undertone "isn't it?"

"Then who do you have allegiance to?" asked Arthur.

The dragon settled back down and laid its head on the grass, sighing as it arranged its wings around it. Arthur noticed that one wing looked tattered and bent, and wondered briefly what could injure such a creature.

"Emrys. Albion. The future of the world," the dragon whispered, before closing its eyes.

They all waited for a minute or so, but aside from the puffs of air that the dragon blew out, the beast was silent.

"Is it sleeping?" asked Percival, voicing Arthur's confused thought.

"It would appear so," said Gwaine, looking bemused. "Should we... you know?" He poked his sword towards the dragon and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I think we've established that it's not going to harm us, so no, Gwaine, we definitely shouldn't."

"Pendragon."

Arthur jumped and turned to the dragon again, who had opened its eyes and was staring wisely at him.

"Mistakes have been made by many. Do not make any more. You must embrace your destiny. Now is the time."

Before Arthur had a chance to even think on those words, the dragon closed its eyes, heaved out a sigh, and... died. At least, the creature glowed for a few seconds, before fading and sinking into the ground, so Arthur could only assume that death had taken it.

"Well that was strange," said Gwaine.

Arthur would have rolled his eyes, except he was still feeling a bit bemused by the dragon's words.

"And damn it, but we didn't even get the chance to ask it about Merlin!" Gwaine spat on the floor. "A beast with eyes that size would surely have seen someone coming through here before us."

Arthur swore as Gwaine's words sank in. He was right, but it was too late now.

"Sire, perhaps we should continue with our search," suggested Leon quietly.

"Leon is right, we should go."

Arthur turned around in a circle, trying to get his bearings. It was full dark, and though the brightness of the moon offered some visibility, the cover of the trees was hindering them.

"Any idea where we are, exactly?" asked Gwaine.

Percival shrugged. "It all looks the same to me at night."

"We tracked the dragon due north," said Leon helpfully. "Camelot is to the west, and the Valley of the Fallen Kings is to the east."

"By that reckoning, we should turn south," said Arthur firmly. "We can at least retrace our steps, and head back to where we were when we first saw the dragon."

With the decision thus made, all four men remounted their horses and began the trek back. They cantered at a slower speed now due to the darkness, and while Percival lead with a torch in his hand, it was still slow progress.

"Do we set up camp for the night, or keep moving?"

Arthur's inner voice was urging him to continue on, but it was a valid question from Leon, and he forced himself to think on it.

"My instinct is to keep moving," he said eventually, "but I cannot see how we can give a thorough search when we cannot see beyond the reach of our arms. We should camp for the night and try to get some rest."

Not altogether happy about stopping for the night, Arthur nevertheless knew it was the right decision. He just wish he knew if Merlin was alright. He would hope that his friend would have the sense to have stopped for the night himself, but Merlin wasn't known for his sense at the best of times, let alone when he had suffered torture and had been injured so recently.

Arthur's mount was well trained, and followed Percival's horse without any help from him, which allowed Arthur to brood again. This latest development with the dragon was playing on his mind, and he replayed the conversation several times over, trying to make sense of it. Not that he had much luck, for despite the fact that the beast had said quite a lot, most of it had been half hidden in secrecy. Just who had the creature made an oath to? As far as Arthur knew, there weren't any more Dragonlords since the death of ... what was his name? Balinor? ... a few years ago. And Dragonlords were the only known people who dragons were known to have any accord.

That left magical creatures. But dragons were surely the largest creatures ever in existence, so what could wrangle an oath from one of the most powerful and dangerous beasts in the world?

Then there was Merlin, his inner voice nagged.

Arthur's head spun. There were just too many puzzles and not enough pieces to work them out. He huffed a small sigh, and determined to bring himself out of his troubling thoughts. He looked upon Percival ahead, who was glancing around warily as he led the party forward; Leon was at the rear, doing much the same thing, while Gwaine was trotting besides Leon, his eyes trained on the sky.

"Gwaine. I'm pretty sure Merlin isn't going to be found in the clouds," said Arthur wryly.

Gwaine jumped, then grinned.

"Well, you never know with our Merlin. Full of surprises, that one."

Well, that was true enough.

"Sire," hissed Percival. "There's a light ahead. Looks like a campfire."

Arthur motioned everyone together and followed the path of Percival's sight. There was indeed a small spire of smoke about a hundred feet ahead of them, which indicated a campfire. The four men dismounted their horses and unsheathed their swords, following as Arthur crept forward. They found a beautiful white horse tethered to a tree, grazing on the grass at its feet. The horse was so white it practically glowed, and Arthur was sure that he had never seen such a beautiful steed.

"Good of you to show, Arthur Pendragon. I was wondering how long it would take."

Arthur jumped, and so did the knights. They all turned and saw... Dragoon? At least, it certainly looked much like the irritable old sorcerer, though a more polished version if you will. There was still the white hair and wrinkles, and still the red cape, but as with the horse, the old man almost glowed.

The three knights, perhaps in fear of being turned into a human ladder again, brought up their weapons, but Arthur merely raised an eyebrow.

"You," he said.

"Me," the old man agreed.

"Why am I not surprised?"

The sorcerer snorted, and beckoned everyone to follow him.

"Come, my friends. And yes, Sir Big Knight, I am your friend. Yours too, Sir Drinkalot."

Percival and Gwaine both looked taken aback, but followed Arthur to join the sorcerer at the fire. Leon shared a look with the king, and nodded before joining the others.

"Let us not beat about the bush. We have a common enemy, and a mutual friend. We have, in point of fact, a shared goal."

"How can we trust you?" demanded Gwaine. "The last time we saw you, you threatened to kill Arthur!"

Arthur glowered. "Did you, indeed?"

"Ah yes, well, I do like to say one thing while meaning something else. Not to worry, my intent, as always, was to protect the King of Camelot."

"But you said...!"

"I know what I said!" the sorcerer snapped. "And I know what I meant! You should know that I meant what I meant and not what I said, and if I had said what I truly meant, then you wouldn't have known what I meant!"

Even Arthur couldn't untangle that, so he was not surprised that everyone else looked confused.

"It matters not!" said the sorcerer, and clapped his hands sharply together. "Pay attention now!"

With some shared looks not unlike chastised children, the four men sat gingerly down and looked to the old man expectantly.

"You are searching for a friend, but have no fear, he is quite safe. We have a bigger problem at hand. Two, if we are going to be particular."

"Wait, you know where Merlin is? Where is he? Is he alright? Is he in danger?"

Dragoon snorted.

"That boy is always in danger, but that is beside the point. He is quite safe, and we need not concern ourselves with him."

"Now wait a minute," started Arthur, only to be cut off.

"Arthur Pendragon, for once in your life, just listen!"

Arthur opened his mouth to retort, but suddenly remembered another time when the same words had been aimed at him. He peered closer at the sorcerer's eyes, homing in on something familiar that had always nagged at him whenever the old man had appeared. The words from the past echoed once again in his head, and he pictured Merlin, earnestly telling him the story of a fabled sword, and how only the true King of Camelot would have any hope of claiming it. He felt his stomach drop and the blood rush from his head. He gazed into a pair or blue eyes, eyes that were surely too bright to belong to such an old man.

"Merlin?" he whispered.

Dragoon's head snapped back, and for once the crotchety old man seemed at a loss for words.

"It is Merlin, isn't it? Lords."

As Arthur slumped forward, his head in his hands, Gwaine suddenly let out a laugh.

"Merlin! But this is excellent!"

"Confusing, more like," muttered Percival faintly.

"In need of an explanation, is my thinking," said Leon sternly, who had noted Arthur's reaction and was obviously being cautious.

"It's safe," said Arthur wearily. "He's safe. At least, I think so, anyway."

Dragoon's face softened, and he approached Arthur gently, kneeling beside him to place a hand on his shoulder. In doing so, the elderly man morphed into his younger version, and the three knights gasped softly.

"I'd wondered if I would be able to fool you again," said Merlin. "Now I know. Come on Arthur, it's not so bad, really it isn't."

Arthur looked up at the familiar, endearing features of his friend, too tired to feel any of the anger that he perhaps should have felt at this latest shock.

"There is much at stake, old friend, but there is time enough for a few pressing questions, if you have need of it."

The quietly spoken words, said with sincerity and wisdom, seemed at odds with the person that Arthur had always assumed Merlin to be, yet he felt calmed by them, and knew that this man posed no threat. He had about a thousand questions buzzing around inside him, but his lips managed only two words.

"How long?" he asked simply.

"All my life," was the reply.

And it was enough, strange as it seemed. There would be a need for answers at some point, but to see Merlin hale and whole was enough to push back any lingering doubts Arthur may have had about the younger man's magic. He could not feel such all-encompassing relief if there was anything to worry about, that he was sure of.

He had learned to trust his instincts.

"Mordred is a problem," he said finally.

Merlin half laughed and half sobbed.

"If you only knew how much," he said shakily.

"That can be remedied," Arthur pointed out.

At that, Merlin sobered. He rubbed his palms over his face and sat back on his knees.

"I think now is the time to be truthful. Finally."

And so Merlin gave an abbreviated version of his life story, or rather, what had been his destiny ever since he had arrived at Camelot. He certainly did not go into any detail, but Arthur knew their time was limited, and he respected the fact that Merlin was possibly reluctant to get into lengthy explanations with such a relatively large audience.

"So Mordred needs to be naturalized," concluded Leon grimly.

"At the very least, though I really do think that Kilgharrah was right when he advised me so many years ago to end the druid boy's life," said Merlin.

"Kil-whatta?" said Gwaine.

"An old friend," said Merlin quietly. "Someone I'll tell you about when we have more time."

At this, Merlin looked to the skies thoughtfully, and Arthur was reminded of Gwaine's similar stance earlier that night.

And something clicked into place.

Arthur had the feeling that he's just found out who the dragon – Kilgharrah? – had made his oath to, and he now had more unpleasant things to deal with. It would appear that it was extremely likely that his friend was not only a sorcerer, but a Dragonlord, too. Which brought all sorts of questions to mind; questions that would have to be addressed at some point after Mordred had been dealt with, unfortunately. Though he was perfectly happy to delay at least one of those questions for the time being.

Just how on earth do you tell a Dragonlord that his dragon has died?

Lords.