Merlin sat straight, his expression blank. Arthur thought it was rare to see his friend like that. In any other circumstances, he might have made a joke about it. But of course, it wasn't the right time for it.
"Let's go down a bit, it will be warmer there. We can start another fire and camp for the night," he suggested instead.
Next, he stood up vigorously, brushed off his clothes, and extended his hand to help Merlin up.
They walked down in silence, their gazes fixed on the light that the warlock sent floating before them. The king considered going back to the horses but decided against it, as they found a perfect spot about halfway there, shielded from wind and close enough to the forest and the stream.
"I will bring the firewood," Merlin announced after they put down their stuff.
"No. I will do it and set up the fire. You should get some rest."
Even though what Arthur said sounded a lot like an order, it was unlike Merlin not to have his own opinion about things.
"I'm alr―" he attempted to protest.
"Yes, yes, I know. But you haven't slept since we left Camelot, or eaten since we left the druids. It won't kill you if you let someone else do things for once," the king cut in. As soon as he finished, he realized how dumb it sounded, since it was usually him who made his former servant do all the work.
The warlock didn't even notice though and was about to argue again. However, his friend didn't wait for an answer. He simply turned around and left. Resigned, Merlin charmed the light to follow Arthur and started preparing his bedroll.
When the latter came back, the raven-haired man was lying on his back under a blanket, staring at the sky. He made a move to help, but he was stopped again. While he felt grateful, he wondered if not having anything to occupy himself with wouldn't drive him mad. Still, he indeed was tired. And eventually, he would have to face the mess in his mind anyway.
He watched as Arthur started the fire and prepared a simple meal. Normally, he would tease the king about his cooking skills, but he couldn't bring himself to speak. However, he forced himself to eat a bit when the king passed him a bowl, whether it was because he wanted to show he appreciated the gesture or because he wanted to avoid discussing his lack of appetite. Regardless, they finished their meal in almost unbroken silence, after which they bid quick goodnights and lied down to get some sleep, knowing there was hardly any need to keep watch so high in the mountains.
A few hours passed, and both men found out that given the circumstances, resting was easier said than done. They would drift off for an hour or less, wake up, and start reliving what they witnessed or pondering on what they heard. Eventually, knowing that the dawn was close, both quietly decided to give up on trying to fall back asleep. They could live with one more sleepless night, after all.
"You are awake, aren't you? I can't hear any snoring," Merlin remarked, feeling increasingly annoyed at being alone with his thoughts.
"Way to start the conversation," Arthur mumbled, turning to his side to face his friend. "And you would be surprised how loud this head of yours gets sometimes. I'm amazed that Gaius manages to get any sleep at all."
In truth, the king knew it was his own mind that kept him awake, but he couldn't help himself. He passed on enough chances to tease.
"Finally, something that sounded almost like an insult. For a moment there, I thought the world has gone utterly mad," the warlock couldn't help but laugh, relaxing at the sight of normalcy. "Just so you know, Gaius doesn't need me to keep him up. He spends half of the nights buried in his books anyway."
The blond-haired man propped himself up on one elbow, groaning softly as his arm was stiff. "He made some enemies by siding with my father, didn't he?"
"Well, I'm sure he lost friends over it. But I don't think they started hating him for it, most I've met just sneered down at him, like K-kilgharrah," Merlin replied, stuttering when mentioning the dragon, but nevertheless grateful for any kind of conversation.
"Couldn't have been easy. Do you think he regrets his choice?" Arthur asked quietly.
"Not really, I believe that a part of him genuinely considered Uther a friend, crazy as it sounds. No offense."
"None taken. In fact, I agree. Some friendship it was, my father sentenced him to the pyre," the king's words brought some mild awkwardness, with both men quickly relating it to their own situation.
"Anyway, I wouldn't say that Gaius sided with anyone. He did help some people escape, my father being one of them. As much as his cautiousness frustrates me, his… lack of choice did more good than whatever most of those who looked down at him did," Merlin stated firmly, also turning to his side and staring into the fire.
Arthur was about to continue talking about Gaius, but a quick glance at his friend's face told him that his mind wandered off. He waited a while before asking, "What are you thinking about?"
"Uhm… My father. But it's not pretty. I'm not sure if I should say it out loud," the raven-haired admitted, biting his lip.
The king, apparently unable to find a comfortable position, rolled onto his belly, rotating slightly so he could still look at his companion. He was silent, leaving it to Merlin to decide if he would like to share.
"It's just, among other things, for a moment I felt angry. I try to get this out of my head, but it's hard for me not to think about Aithusa as Morgana's dragon, one that… you know. So, it all seemed unfair, I've just become a dragonlord a few years back, and there are no dragons that I can see myself bonding with anymore," the warlock paused and looked down at the skin he was lying on.
"And then I got even angrier when I thought about my father dying just after I met him. Now that… that Kilgharrah is dead, it's like the last part of him is gone, too. The purest part, and the one I knew best. So, I felt like I had the worst of luck. Until I realized that… well, that it wasn't luck that kept me from meeting my father earlier," he blurted out.
"I know, I told you, you don't have to feel bad for saying it was because of my-" Arthur started, with a hint of sadness in his voice.
Merlin shot him a puzzled look, before it hit him that it indeed sounded as if he got furious at the memory of Uther. "Oh. That's not what I meant. I was going to say that he's responsible for that, too. And my mother."
"Right. She could have told you. But he didn't know, how is it his fault?" now, it was the king's turn to feel confused.
The warlock stretched his arms and sighed, wondering how to put his feelings and thoughts into words.
"Fault is too big a word. And it would be foolish to judge, I don't even want to imagine what it must have been like, to lose so many dragons at once, to pretty much witness all the dragonlords dying, and then to have to leave behind the little comfort he found in Ealdor. But… even if I don't hold it against him, I can't help but wish he didn't give up."
"It doesn't seem like he got much choice," Arthur suggested quietly, not used to someone else's deceased father being criticized, no matter how lightly.
"At first, he did not. But he could have come back. Your father was far too practical to chase him forever in Cenred's Kingdom. He wouldn't give a rat's ass if mine showed up in Ealdor a year or two after he was forced to leave," Merlin argued, sitting up to add more wood to the fire.
"What if someone told?"
"You know how it is to go to Ealdor and back without horses, I doubt someone would try it for an uncertain reward. Also, when you live in a small village, no one can leave unnoticed, all he needed was to be careful. Or, we could go somewhere where no one knew him.
"The point is, he was bitter about losing my mother, but he kind of chose to. So what if coming back would be risky? Going by the state we found him in, he didn't have much to lose. He lived on regret, hatred, and pain, snapping at everyone who came near his caves," the raven-haired man took a deep breath before adding the worst part.
"And where did it get him? I loved my time with him, but when he told us he wouldn't help, I almost regretted that Gaius told me the truth. I meant what I said then, about him being as bad as Uther. He was about to let hundreds of people die…" the warlock finished his rant, instantly feeling awful for voicing his thoughts.
"What matters is that he changed his mind, Merlin. My father never did," Arthur commented calmly, sounding as if it barely bothered him anymore.
"Uh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring Uther into this… more than necessary," the raven-haired man muttered. He was still sitting, arms wrapped around his knees. "And you are right, of course. Maybe I was just looking for something to get angry at. It was either that or… well, staying scared and depressed."
"Understandable. I suppose there is no easy solution for the sadness but as for the fear… I doubt that Kilgharrah was one for empty words of comfort. You will not be on your own with the things he helped you with," the king offered.
To his amazement, instead of a response, he heard a soft chuckle. He furrowed his brows, mumbling something about hoping that his friend wasn't going mad.
"I'm not. At least I hope so. It's just that grateful as I am… I can't believe you've passed so many chances to call me a girl. Even now, when I'm not a crying mess anymore," Merlin explained.
Arthur sighed and used his left elbow to crawl a little closer. Then, with his right fist, he lightly punched his advisor on the arm and joked, "What's the point. Everyone around me has gone soft. I hold you responsible but still, there is little I can do but play along."
The warlock laughed, probably for the first time in a while. "A rare display of maturity."
"Yeah, like you would know what that is."
They continued talking for a bit, both enjoying a lighter mood. As their conversation took them into a new day, they ate breakfast, put out the fire, and started gathering their stuff. Only when they were nearly done Merlin briefly grew more serious again.
"I'm glad you are here. Thank you," he said with a small smile. Arthur nodded back at him, the corners of his lips turning slightly upwards, too.
They rode through the gates to the city the following evening, just before it got dark. Merlin rushed to his and Gaius' chambers, hoping to find the physician home and talk about what Kilgharrah said as soon as possible. Arthur, however, was pleased to stumble upon Leon in the courtyard.
"Sir Leon! I hope your journey home was without surprises. Have Rodin and Mithian left already?" he asked, entrusting his horse to one of the servants.
The knight, buried in his thoughts, took a while to react.
"Sire," he finally replied, standing up and bowing his head with an apologetic look. It was better to keep it official in front of the guards and several other witnesses. "Our ride back was fine. As for Rodin and Mithian, the king caught a chill. Nothing serious, but they postponed their visit until later this week. Your head is safe," he added the last part in a whisper.
"What?"
"From the queen. Isn't that why you asked, Sire?" Leon raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, of course. I'm sorry, I'm just tired after the journey. I better go rest. Have a good evening, Sir Leon," the king confirmed a little too quickly.
The truth was, he forgot that Guinevere could be mad or at the very least annoyed with him for leaving her to welcome Rodin and Mithian. He had an unforeseen business with his fellow ruler. But he wasn't about to reveal that, not yet.
"You too, Sire. By the way, we didn't know when you and Merlin will be back, so we decided to delay progressing with the queen's plan until then," Leon reported.
"Very well. We can send Tristan to the tavern tomorrow. Thank you," the king nodded at his knight, before going past him and entering the palace.
On any other day, Leon would likely pick on Arthur's weird behavior. That evening, though, he was too deep in his own thoughts, pondering on the conversation he had a day and a half ago.
(Two days earlier)
Mornings were full of joy at the druids camp. Unlike in Camelot, nobody seemed to be in a hurry. The druids were admiring nature around them, as if they didn't see it all the time, chatting about simple things, sharing tasks while preparing breakfast. Their cheerful attitude rubbed off on the guests, who were much less restrained than the night before. The breakfast found them engaged in conversations with their hosts and relaxed enough to wish to delay leaving toward the city, if only for a little bit.
Leon, however, realized that it was out of the question, as they had to get there before Rodin and Mithian. Weirdly, he didn't feel particularly hungry. He drank a cup of herbal tea, which tasted like a mixture of nettle and mint, and ate some forest fruit. Then, he excused himself rather quickly, despite his mild amusement at Percival flirting with a young druid woman, as Gwaine theatrically rolled his eyes beside the large knight.
Leon perched on a fallen tree near the entrance to the camp, trying to savor his surroundings for the last few moments. Suddenly, a brown cloak came into his field of vision.
"I am pleased that our paths crossed again, Sir Leon," Iseldir spoke before the knight could raise his eyes to see who approached him.
"Likewise," the younger man replied, straightening his back. "I often wondered if I would ever get a chance to say how grateful I am. And sorry."
"You did thank us, Sir Leon," Iseldir reminded. His way of addressing the knight was a little uncharacteristic, as he rarely respected the official titles. "And there is no need to apologize."
"If it were not for me, you wouldn't lose the cup in the first place. Or get into trouble with Arthur," Leon protested.
"I believe you and your friends got into far more trouble over it. But regardless of that, you should never apologize for being alive," the druid chieftain stated firmly, looking the knight in the eye.
Leon nodded hesitantly. "Still, I have to ask. Why did you go out of your way to save me, Iseldir? I couldn't stop thinking about it. Your people could have died after Uther found out."
"The simple answer is that it was the only right thing to do. This is how the cup should be used. I am not sure how much you know about the way it works but usually, saving one life with it requires sacrificing another. On a single day each year, the spring equinox, there is no price, all you need is to know the right incantation. We found you on that day," the druid explained patiently.
"So, is there also another answer?"
Iseldir smiled slightly. "Perhaps. There is a deeper reason beneath everything. And clearly, you have an important role to play in what is unfolding."
"Me? I am just a good warrior, like dozens of others in our army," the knight argued.
"If you say so. To me, it appears that it would not be easy to find someone who better embodies the knightly values. You are honorable, loyal, humble, hard-working, brave, protective of what and who you believe in. Those with magic too often lack those qualities, corrupted by their powers. When the old ways collide with the new, it will take people like you to keep the world grounded," the chieftain assessed, his kind eyes seemingly piercing through Leon, which made him both slightly uncomfortable and relieved, as for once, he felt understood.
Replaying the conversation, the knight wasn't sure which question screamed harder in his head, which made him feel a little lost, as he tended to be serene both inside and out. He wondered how much the world was going to change and if Iseldir was right that he would quickly find his place there. He was also dumbfounded by how much the druid chieftain seemed to know about him; not because it must have required remarkable seer talents and skill, but because he couldn't figure out why he received so much attention. After all, he was used to staying in the shadows, only coming to the frontline in the heat of the battle.
Needless to say, the following day, it was hard to find one person who was focused on the mission to find the person who sold the traitors the crystal. Well, apart from the queen. Tristan was a little nervous as it was his first real task as knight of Camelot. Merlin couldn't stop thinking about both dragons, not sure how on Earth he would be able to keep his promise to Kilgharrah. Leon's focus got lost somewhere in the druid camp, and Percival's might have, too, albeit for different reasons. Gwaine was Gwaine, which could mean various things depending on the moment. However, even he would agree that if the action involved the tavern, he wasn't the most reliable soldier. Finally, the king's mind was busy with one thing he had yet to reveal to anyone, anxiously waiting for Rodin to arrive.
"I'm starting to think we can't do it tonight, either," Gwen threw her arms in the air. „Were all your brains stolen when you were away?"
"Relax, Guinevere," Arthur tried to reason with her. "It's unlikely that there will be any difficulties today, we will just test the grounds."
"Alright. I hope you are right. Percival, did you make sure that none of the knights will have time to go the tavern today?" the queen asked, looking pointedly at the massive warrior, who nodded in response.
Then, she raised from the chair and glanced around the table. Once again, they were in the forgotten room, where Arthur first announced he was planning to lift the ban. Since then, it became their secret meeting room.
"Good. In case anyone forgot, which seems more than likely. Gwaine will sit in the dark corner of the tavern, like he often does, for protection. If things go really bad, Merlin will be waiting in the closest bedroom. Arthur and Leon will stay somewhere around the tavern, trying not to attract too much attention. Good luck," Gwen laid out slowly, as if she was talking to children.
In time, Tristan forgot about his worries, feeling increasingly bored. The plan was infinitely more exciting in theory, which minimized the part that consisted of waiting for the person who looked as if they could know anything. In reality, it could take multiple evenings of sipping the ale with little entertainment around, bar occasional fights and shady-looking strangers, who Tristan delicately approached.
Merlin found himself in an even worse situation, sitting in the closest bedroom, near the half-open door, trying his hardest to stop his mind from wandering off, as he had to listen carefully for any disturbing signals. Gwaine, on the other hand, was relatively content, doing what he was used to. As he was feeling slightly better lately, he wouldn't mind some company, but having an official order to drink in the tavern didn't seem bad at all.
Suddenly, the door opened, bringing a breeze of cold air and revealing a guy who instantly drew Tristan's attention. Later, he wouldn't be able to put it into words, but whether it was something about his cloak, which appeared to be purple and gold at the same time, or his magnifying eyes, of which one was blue and another green, the knight instantly knew he couldn't be a regular citizen of Camelot, nor a simple traveler.
The man took off his hood, revealing unruly silver hair and a short beard. As he walked to the counter, Tristan started planning how to approach him. To his regret, the arriver didn't order a drink and only paid for the room. On a regular evening, either the newly commissioned knight or Gwaine would probably find it weird that he didn't carry anything with him. However, not only the latter was nowhere to be seen, but also something in the air that day made them all uncommonly unfocused.
It took only a few moments for all hell to break loose. Well, two separate hells, to be precise.
If waiting for things to unfold got a tad annoying inside the tavern, at least for some, Arthur and Leon's situation was far less pleasant. The night was chilly, and they tried to stay in the shadows, which meant keeping away from the fires.
"God, I barely had any time to forget about how freezing it was in the mountains, and here I am again," the king complained in a hushed voice, rubbing his hands against each other to warm them up.
"If you wanted to wait longer―" the knight started.
"―Leon, did we meet yesterday? I'm not Cenred, I've had far worse than three nights out in the cold. I was just… making the conversation," Arthur whispered with a slight smirk.
"Right."
"Clearly, it isn't working."
"Sorry."
Arthur had to chew on his cheek not to burst out laughing. "I think my sword is more talkative than you, Leon. Are you alright?"
"Yes. There's just something on my mind. But it's not the time and place," the knight explained quickly.
He had yet to know the true depth of his words. They were sitting on the old barrels, in the dark spot on the right side of the tavern. Not five minutes passed since their conversation, when, out of nowhere, they felt cloths appearing in their mouth, gagging them. Before they could react, they found themselves tied up by ropes. That caused them to lose balance, which in turn made the barrels roll under them. Soon, they were both lying flat on their backs, on the cold ground.
"Long time no see," a voice above them said.
Arthur rose his head. He instantly noticed a sun-shaped necklace mentioned by Gwaine, glowing bright enough to illuminate an unsettlingly familiar face hovering above them. The king quickly established that there was no use fighting against the rope, so he lied back and waited.
"Your plan was quite solid, I admit. But it was based on the assumption that I didn't care about the plot to assassinate the queen. After I realized that it failed, I did some spying. You would be surprised how easy it still is to sneak into the palace," the man continued.
It's amusing that you have nothing better to do with your time, Arthur thought, silently cursing at the stupidity of the situation they were in.
"You probably remember that I have some unfinished business with Camelot. Even more so, after you killed my friends."
You don't strike me as the type that has too many of them, it was now Leon's turn to be sarcastic. By accident, it was actually accurate, as their attacker was simply looking for more reasons to hate them, with his so-called friends being more like his means to achieving goals at one point in the past.
The man glanced up briefly, as if waiting for a signal. He seemed to get what he was looking for. Sighing, he added, "Alright, enough of the talking. I said all that was to say all those years back. Now, it is time for the great spectacle. Please, watch with me," with that, he dragged them to the wall of the opposite building, not without trouble, and helped them sit.
Deciding that it was better to see what he was up to than to land face on the ground, they didn't protest.
As they were waiting anxiously, eyes glued to the tavern, if not for the sounds, they would miss the sudden turn of events. Out of nowhere, Gwaine jumped onto their captor. In a sudden flash of genius, he remembered what Gaius said about the necklace being protection in battle, and started by ripping it off. He held the man tight in his grip and after a few moments of struggle, knocked him out cold.
Then, he rushed to free Arthur and Leon from the rope.
"Not that I'm not grateful, but what are you doing here, Gwaine?" the king asked hoarsely, getting up to his feet.
"Nature called. I was here for a while, but I thought I'd better get this," he waved the necklace in front of them, „off him and there was no chance of taking him by surprise until you changed positions."
Arthur nodded, "Thank you."
"For once, it's a good thing you drank too much to keep your position," Leon grinned, brushing off his cloak.
The three men patted each other on the back, still joking, and went on to tie their attacker.
It seemed like they forgot about the promised spectacle.
About the same time Arthur and Leon were unpleasantly surprised, Merlin felt that someone with magic went into the tavern. When the door opened, the draft closed his room, so he didn't get to look at the stranger who drew Tristan's attention. Maybe, if not for that coincidence, he would grow suspicious. Instead, he thought that perhaps, they finally got lucky.
In truth, it was the opposite. Soon, all the doors to the outside were closed, though for quite some time no one noticed. Precisely, until it seemed to be too late. Tristan was busy wondering if the newcomer would come down to eat or drink, already thinking that it might turn out to be necessary to come back the next day. Merlin considered going out for a moment to check if the knight noticed that someone with magic was in the tavern, but in case it was someone familiar, he didn't want the latter to get suspicious.
In the end, it all didn't matter that much, because things got a little hot.
Arthur, Leon and Gwaine stopped in their tracks, watching in horror. In one moment, the tavern started burning. But the process wasn't gradual, the fire appeared to be full-blown mere seconds after it started. After the three warriors got through their initial shock, they rushed to the doors and windows, only to find them all locked with magic, impossible to either open or unhinge.
"What now? We can't just stand here and watch!" Gwaine yelled, making another fruitless attempt to break in with a solid kick.
"Breaking your legs won't do anyone much good," Arthur retorted. "I don't like it anymore than you do, but―"
Merlin let his eyelids close for a second. At first, he nearly convinced himself that he dozed off and the fire was just a nightmare. However, as unpleasant sensations were growing into dangerous and painful, he decided that not only they were probably real, but also it was a good idea not to take any chances. He grabbed a blanket from the nearest bed and hid under it, knowing he had minutes at best to figure out the solution.
How did the fire grow so huge so fast? he kept asking himself. He tried a few simple spells to put out at least some of it, but they didn't work. Simultaneously, though he couldn't see it, Tristan and a few other men were experiencing similar frustration when trying to open the door.
Thankfully, fire was one of the elements that he had the strongest relationship with. In addition to being able to use it instinctively, he particularly enjoyed studying fire-related spells. So, as the burning sensation on his skin was slowly getting him worried that his brain would fry before producing any useful ideas, suddenly, something clicked. When he was bored out of his mind during his quest, he came across a spell to quickly trap people in the fire, and there was a way to counter it.
He concentrated on remembering it well.
"Merlin, are you alright? I mean… well enough? We kind of depend on you here," Tristan panted, after an effort to get to the room.
"I know what to do! Since you are here, do you know who did this? Be ready, the door will open after I lift the spell!" Merlin yelled back at the knight.
In seconds, the warlock stood up, throwing away the blanket, and said an incantation, which Tristan barely heard through the cracking and buzzing sounds of the fire. It ceased as abruptly as it started, dumbfounding everyone who was inside. The knight and the warlock grinned at each other and hugged briefly, before rushing to find the reason for the whole mess.
"―but we can only count on Merlin now," Arthur finished with a relieved sigh, his lips curving into a small smile.
Leon stayed with the attacker, while the king and Gwaine went in to check on the people. Initially, the situation seemed rather grim, but it was mostly because of the damage done to the tavern, with its walls darkened and scorched, and many chairs and tables broken in the chaos, not to mention countless cracked jars and plates. Arthur made a mental note to himself to pay for the repairs, considering that they were the target.
As for the people, they were mostly scared and eager to get home, at least if they had one in Camelot. The fire was stopped quickly enough for no one to get hurt, not counting minor burns. The king and Gwaine got busy helping to tend to those, simultaneously scanning the tavern for Merlin and Tristan. In a few moments, they saw the knight dragging an older guy with a nasty bump on the side of his head, the warlock trailing behind them. Later, they would learn that Tristan remembered Merlin's advice on how to beat someone with magic, and made him unable to use his gifts as soon as he found him.
"You two alright?" Gwaine asked, squeezing their arms.
They both nodded.
"Where the hell were you, Gwaine?" Tristan asked.
"My bet is on a lucky nature call. Gwaine has a knack for those," Merlin replied with a wink, seeing in his friend's eyes that he was right.
They conveniently avoided talking about how the fire was stopped until they were on their own since they weren't talking about the king advisor's magic openly just yet.
"Well, speaking of the outside, we have one more surprise for you," Arthur said, his tone betraying slight mockery.
"Alvarr! That's not exactly surprising," Merlin joked, looking down at the unconscious man.
"Sorry for getting your hopes up," Arthur sneered light-heartedly.
Gwaine eyed them both and took a step forward, so he was placed between them and Alvarr. "Right, there was no time to ask before. How do you know him?"
"Just a small run-in a few years back," Leon joined in.
"Yup, nothing too serious. Alvarr and young Mordred tried to steal a dangerous weapon from the vaults. That, and he had a fling with Morgana," Merlin added, gesturing that it was time to get going.
"Of course, I didn't know the most interesting part," Leon mumbled while getting up to head toward the palace.
A/N: Oops, it seems like the nasty knights from few chapters back conveniently forgot to tell Alvarr about Arthur's plans. Still, who knows if it would change anything :) Anyway, thank you for still reading!
Mersan123, thank you, it might have been the hardest one to write so far. I felt like a dragon's death has to be powerful, since he or she lived for so long. I actually rewrote the entire thing as I wasn't satisfied with my first take. I feel for Merlin, too, he can never have it easy... but at least he doesn't have to hide it anymore.
Gingeraffealene, oops! I hardly ever wear mascara because I manage to ruin it even without crying :) Thank you!
Maricate, thank you for all your wonderful reviews, I'm glad that you came across this story. To answer some of your comments:
- In my headcanon, Perilous Lands are as big as the whole kingdom - for example, when Arthur and Merlin are near the palace, they can't see what's far in the woods, etc. My assumption is that it's the same with Perilous Lands. That's why Arthur, Merlin and Gwaine didn't have to see everything that is going on there :)
- About Kilgharrah, during the circle he did his last bit of powerful magic, which didn't mean he would die right after, just that he wouldn't be able to do powerful healing spells and things like that. But you are right, I made it seem as if Merlin wasn't going to see him again... I wanted for it all to be a surprise, also for Merlin.
- As for what the dragon told Arthur, I can't wait to reveal it - you only have to wait until the next chapter...
Vanvdreamer, yeah, Arthur had this last bit of growing up to do and it seems like he managed it pretty well. Thank you!