There was a weight on his chest. It moved up and down as he breathed. Something tickled the back of his mind, the thought that something was wrong. Breathing was somehow wrong. He didn't know why, and ignored it. He felt refreshed, well rested. A good night's sleep, and he could feel the heat of the sun on his skin from the window. Another thought tickled at that, but he pushed it away. He somehow knew he had not felt this... grounded... for a long time. He felt balanced, like a great wrong had been corrected. He vaguely remembered his mind being a place of chaos, of uncertainty, but it was calm now, centered. There were places he felt he could access if he had to, but he shied away from it, somehow understanding they weren't meant for him yet.
Something cold came into contact with his nose and he felt hot air hit his face when it snorted at him. Eyes shooting open, he found himself startled to see a tiny white dragon happily licking his face. What-?
The Clearing. The tiny Dragon was Aithusa. He remembered why breathing seemed unnatural. He had died.
They had died.
His grief came crashing back to him even as he gently moved the baby so he could sit up. He was in chambers, though not his own. Nemeth. Yes, he remembered the battles. The bed underneath him shifted, and he froze, holding his breath. He remembered his fear that the Link had changed, remembered the relief he'd experienced when he'd felt his own life slipping once the precious life in his arms had gone. He remembered his calm acceptance that he had earned the end to his pain. He closed his eyes, sending a prayer to every god and spirit that might listen that this was not some cruel trick, then braved a look beside him.
His breath came out in an explosion just as the Bond surged back to him, stronger than ever. Even as his eyes drank in the sight of the raven hair, the alabaster skin, he felt Life surge through the Link, expanding into the Bond, solidifying itself. Felt something drag at his strength, and he released it willingly. He gasped, laughing, as those powers came to him again, felt the burn in his eyes for a moment as it reminded him it was still there. It washed through him, cleansing him of pain, of worry. A part of him vaguely remembered it being less, but he dismissed it as he felt the connection with his lover come to him at full strength.
Arthur reached over, felt Merlin's pulse, though he didn't need to, not really. A habit more than anything. It was steady, if not a little weak. Feeling the Bond surge in him again, whispering to him, he didn't hesitate to lean over, sealing his lips to those of his lover, pouring all his returned strength into him, wrapping him in the protective threads of the Bond. Weakness came through, but so did life, healing. He let the gold crowns burn again as he pushed his own vitality at the younger man, much as he had done in the crystal caves, feeling the glow move through the younger man, helping to repair some of the deeper damage still left. While there was no physical response to his kiss, he felt reassurance flow through him. Time, it requested, and he was content to give it, slowly breaking away.
"Arthur?"
He looked toward the sound of the voice- surprised he hadn't sensed anyone else in the room- could see Artemis standing at the end of the bed, looking at him in shock. It solidified in his mind that it was true, they were alive! How? He remembered all too clearly how shattered the delicate body of the vessel had been, beyond even the Great Dragon himself. He could feel it through the Bond that somehow, that body had healed. It would take a little more rest yet before it was able to withstand a return to this world, but it was healing, absorbing eagerly all he could pour into it. A mind that had been linked to the great mysteries of life had repaired, had found a way back. He remembered the birth of the little Dragon who had awakened him, remembered that mind being returned to them, becoming a part of them again.
He dove into the Bond again, checking to make sure his shields were still in place, grateful to find them sturdy. He explored the magics woven around them, nodding to himself, satisfied that they would hold no matter how the curious warlock picked at them. He allowed himself to marvel at the change in it, the ease in which his vision changed as his eyes blackened in his exploration. He had become a single shared entity with his lover at one point- an ability the Bond didn't allow by its nature, but could no longer distinguish those limit boundaries. There would never be such as thing as 'too deep' again. He felt it along every part of him- their Bond had reached its maximum potential, was capable of nearly anything. He needed only time to learn it. He shivered with the power he'd somehow been granted.
"Arthur, um, there's an angry Dragon," Artemis pointed out. "I need to check on you, but… it doesn't like me much," Artemis ground out in frustration. Then he hesitated. "Your eyes, Arthur- I can't feel the magics you're wielding, but you need to come back."
The King knew it was true. Regretfully, he gasped as he pulled himself out of the Bond, having given all he could for the moment. It was harder now, to feel disconnected from his lover, it felt a little lonely. As the burn faded from his eyes, the King finally focused on the tiny white dragon hopping up and down on his legs, hissing and giving little warning barks to Artemis. He couldn't stop the chuckle. "Aithusa, you're very brave, little one, but he's a friend," Arthur soothed, reaching out to scratch the baby. The Ancient tongue was closely related to the dragon language, Kilgharrah had said. Would the little dragon understand him? "Aithusa, tá tú an-cróga, a chara beag, ach is cara é."
Aithusa took a moment to delight in his affections, then gave himself a shake, running over to put his front claws on Merlin. He looked at Arthur, his expression clearly asking why the man was still sleeping. Arthur smiled reassuringly. "He'll be fine with rest." Aithusa whimpered at him again, clawing at the blanket covering the younger man's legs. "Beidh Merlin go breá. Teastaíonn codladh ó do Thiarna anois," Arthur tried again. The baby watched him for a moment more before seeming to be content, and he curled up to continue his nap on Merlin's stomach, obviously determined to protect the warlock despite Arthur's assurance the druid was a friend.
"I see you've not lost that little trick," Artemis sighed. "I suspect I would weep for the knowledge you once held, my boy. My people believe the dragons gave mankind the gift of language. That they wept as the human tongue corrupted it into what we know to be the Ancient language, what my people call the first language."
Arthur snorted. "Mankind is inherently flawed in that our arrogance is passed on generation to generation, claiming first conceptions to truths already as old as the first man to stand." He blinked, cocked his head, then shrugged. "I have no way of knowing what he understands, and I'm no Dragonlord to speak to him as kin. All I have now is an instinct."
Artemis watched him carefully. "Are you alright, Sire?"
Arthur smiled at him. "I guess it'll take a little time for me, too, Artemis. Ignore the little things that might pop out. I'm sorry if that was disrespectful to your beliefs."
"It's alright, Arthur. I had a few days to get used to the idea that you had experienced something none of us could begin to comprehend. I expect we'll have to have some patience with Merlin, too, when he wakes. I will confess, however, that nothing prepared me to walk in and find a little dragon determined to protect you."
"He is just a baby, Artemis, a new born. Aithusa means you no harm," Arthur somehow felt sure in saying. He was touched by the little dragon's concern for them, and his apparent affections. He frowned. "How long has he been here?"
"Two days, Sire," Artemis replied, moving to thumb back Arthur's eyes, growling in frustration when the King's head turned toward the little creature in concern. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a strong affection for the little baby.
"Has he eaten? Had any water?"
"Sire, please, I must examine you. The dragon was happy to help himself to meals the staff have been bringing up since you returned, in the off chance either of you woke. He doesn't seem to like it much, but he will eat it." He sighed. "The servants think he's cute, so when he sincerely seemed to enjoy your apples, they have been sending extra."
Arthur frowned, finally allowing Artemis to turn his head and check his temperature, eyes, and breath. "How's Merlin?" he asked. He knew, of course, but wanted to hear it confirmed from the physician. Wanted to know if those improvements he could feel were visible yet to a trained eye.
"Emrys is weak, but from what little I've been able to tell- Aithusa hasn't been any more willing to let me examine him than you- the damage is repairing itself at an incredible rate. I can't find any sign of the injuries he had after the battle. He simply appears to be asleep."
"Do you know how we were healed?" Arthur asked. It couldn't have been the Great Dragon. He'd believed the regret in the old creatures tone when had said there was nothing he could have done. What could have possibly had the power to bring them back? To rebuild a body that had been utterly crushed?
"We, Sire? I assumed that Merlin was somehow healed before the Link came into effect."
"We both died. I remember dying, Artemis, very clearly." He reached over to touch the bare shoulder next to him, shuddering at the all too vivid memory. "He died in my arms, and the Link took me shortly after." Those moments had lasted an eternity, wrapped up in the suffering of his loss, hanging on desperately to the knowledge that it would be over soon.
Artemis shook his head. "I'm not sure, Sire. I'm a little confused, myself. To my knowledge- when you rode out with him, you should not have come back. I sent Gwaine to bring you home for burial. The Great Dragon's roar of mourning was heard even here, Arthur. We all knew what it meant. The people held vigil until Gwaine returned. Imagine all of our surprise when he did so screaming for me, that you were both still alive!" The druid shook his head. "The boy... we feared for him at first. I was astonished- and pleased- when he appeared to be improving by the hour! Even more quickly once we put him next you."
Arthur smiled. "I appreciate that, Artemis. I'm pleased it wasn't necessary, but I do appreciate it." He looked around. His body felt stiff, and he longed for movement. "Do I have clothes?"
Artemis hesitated. "Sire, I would recommend..." he trailed off, sighing. The King was flushed with health, and he really had no viable reason to keep him abed. "Never mind. Yes, Arthur. Princess Mithian had all of your things and Merlin's moved here." He frowned, looking around. "Ian put them away. I'm not entirely sure where."
Arthur laughed, carefully moving back the covers so as not to startle the dragon. He'd never been shy about his nudity in front of anyone, and as the Court Physician, Artemis was the least likely to be modest. He made it only a few steps from the bed, however, when he felt sharp little claws dig and scrabble their way up the back of his legs and his back.
He turned his head to see Aithusa perched anxiously on his shoulder. Well. If the little dragon was going to be around perhaps a little training wouldn't hurt. "Ouch, Aithusa! A ghortaigh mé!" he reprimanded gently, the same he as would for any of his dogs that got too rough with him when they were puppies. "That hurt." He reached back a hand to touch the scratch on his back, pulling back fingers with a little blood on them. He showed them to the dragon, frowning.
Aithusa looked between his face, his fingers, and where the blood had come from. Without taking his eyes from Arthur's, he slowly leaned his head down, breathing on the wound, keeping careful eye contact to make sure the human had no more harsh words for him. Arthur shivered, eyes going wide as the cut closed, then was gone. Aithusa looked at him with hope, and Arthur reached out absently, responding to comfort the little one's distress and hope for approval. "Yes, very good. An-mhaith."
The little dragon chirped happily at him, pleased he had fixed what he'd done wrong, curling up comfortably. Staring at the cut that was no longer there, he looked back to the blood on his fingers. He started to laugh. He put one hand to his mouth, but even that didn't stop the deep laughter. It had a slightly hysteric quality to it, even as he sank to his knees on the floor under the weight of his realization. It couldn't be...
"Arthur? Sire?" Artemis asked, confused, watching his King. "Are you alright? Perhaps you should lie back down...:"
"It was Aithusa!" Arthur gasped out, then continued to laugh. "He was the one who healed us!" New magic, Kilgharrah had said. As deeply connected as the Triple Goddess herself. A choice made so many years ago to protect an innocent life, to save a pure heart from years of torment and hatred. An attempt to preserve the last great hope of the dragons. A life too young to have any ties in this world had reached out them. In his mind, he remembered the little dragon confused by the hurt it could feel coming from both Arthur and the Great Dragon. Aithusa, only hours old, had given them life again, had given of himself to stop the hurt he didn't understand, knowing only he didn't like it. An old debt repaid as a final act had turned out to be their salvation.
Destiny's final gift to them, to reward an act of kindness, a risk taken in a time when it could have come at great cost to himself had it been discovered. Not even as a reward for all their sacrifices, their hurts, their losses to accomplish the dream that was Albion. No, their lives had been returned to them because he'd decided to protect an egg that had sat dormant for four hundred years, had hidden it away until it could come into a new world, one of hope.
"Go raibh maith agat, a chara beag. Go raibh maith agat!" He felt the white head butt against his cheek, and he turned, leaning into it, reaching up to pet the creature. "Thank you, my dear little friend. Thank you!"
MERLIN10101010101010MERLIN
"Ian," Arthur greeted the manservant currently folding laundry as he entered his room. He chuckled. "How is it possible for a man who's been asleep for four days to have laundry?"
Ian scowled at him. "Your pet is rather insistent on getting into the cupboard, Sire. He likes to make a bed of my Lord Merlin's clothes, and the damage done by his claws require repair." He glared. "Do we know how long our guest will be staying?"
"I'm taking him back this afternoon, Ian," Arthur reassured. He really didn't understand why the two seemed to so strongly dislike each other. Perhaps it had something to do with the manservants insistence on treating the baby like he really was a pet- right down to constantly shooing him out of the way. For all of his hissing, poor little Aithusa's baby teeth simply weren't sharp enough to do any damage when they bit. Not that the spunky little creature hadn't tried his absolute best to take several chunks out of the manservant- and a few of the other staff who treated him similarly.
That was, if Arthur could find him. No one seemed to believe him when he tried to explain the dragon came and went as he pleased, that he was a friend, not a pet. He was curious, and while he wouldn't stray far or long from either Arthur or Merlin, he did enjoy some time to explore and play, which is where Arthur suspected he was now. He liked to chase the rats. "He got into the kitchens this morning and made quite the mess. The staff have threatened to quit if he stays much longer, and Mithian is frustrated."
"What a shame, Sire," Ian replied coolly.
Arthur sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "How is he today?"
Ian's entire demeanor softened. "Better, Sire. It's requiring less and less to get him to swallow liquids, and he takes in more every day," the servant replied happily, reporting the only thing he suspected the King wanted to hear, having his own, more thorough, methods of obtaining more information. He wasn't shocked when Arthur leaned over, placing a hand on the boys' brow, and those gold crowns glowed. It was a sight he was becoming accustomed to, and understood the Bonded man was checking the warlock on a level much deeper than any of them could. He got the sense that there was an exchange of sorts happening as well. His master always took more liquids after one of Arthur's visits.
Arthur cocked his head, as if listening, and Ian felt hope flare when he saw the King grin, saw those eyes glow even brighter, then move to black. The glow the manservant was accustomed to, but the black concerned him, even as Arthur's expression changed to one of concentration. The servant knew better than to interrupt though, and so stood, watching them both anxiously. In his mind, he ticked off the minutes of silence as they passed. He would go to the Queen if the King showed any signs of distress. He hesitated only because he'd been informed of the changes that had occurred since the battle. He'd been busy with the infirmary, and the King had locked nearly everyone out of the room prior to their departure to see the Great Dragon.
The roar that echoed across the lands that night had broken his heart. Merlin had become far more than a Master to him, and he'd been deeply grieved for the loss. He had felt it unfair that they should give so much and not be allowed to reap the rewards of the seeds they sowed. Though he had taken some comfort in knowing they'd been together, at least, at the end. As they deserved to be, as he was fond of the young King too- not that he'd ever tell him so. Perhaps someday he would tell his Prince that an entire city had stopped with that mighty sound. That no few tears had been shed in the hours between it and when Sir Gwaine had returned, shouting for the physician.
At first he had mistrusted the unconscious state of his Lord, until it had become obvious it was one of healing. He'd refused to give in entirely to hope, however, until the King himself had woken. He knew about the Link. Knew one could not exist without the other. He had been Merlin's only companion those long months the boy had obsessed over breaking it. So when Arthur had returned to them in full health, he'd allowed himself to truly believe it would be all right.
"Come on, Merlin," Arthur whispered, hanging his head, delving even deeper. He could feel it, feel his lover so close to the surface. He felt sweat bead on his skin as he pushed still more of his energy into the boy. "You can do this," he murmured. For the first time in days he felt some spark of consciousness from the Bond, a lessening of the deep sleep the warlock had been in. He used himself as a lighthouse to guide that consciousness, to bring it closer to him.
Merlin gasped, arching off the bed as the overflow of energies pushed him upwards, like breaking the surface of water after holding his breath for so long. Arthur eased up immediately, letting himself slip out of the Bond, careful not to push him too far. Breathing hard, he waited, rewarded when moments later gold crowned azure opened, blinking at him.
"Hey," Arthur whispered gently, ignoring the gasp of the servant behind him. "Easy, Merlin, éasca," he soothed, seeing a moment of panic. "I'm here, tá mé anseo." Arthur kept up the soothing repertoire while the younger man came to himself, joined them in this world. He let the thumb of the hand that had never left the boys' brow smooth the skin it could reach, calming him. He was relieved when panicked gasps eased to slow, easy breaths.
"Where?" croaked the weak voice. Arthur turned to fetch some water, but Ian was already standing there, a cup ready for him, a pleased smile on his face.
"Shall I fetch Artemis?"
Arthur accepted the cup, helping his lover take a few sips even as he shook his head. "No. He's alright. He just needs a moment. Go get him some solid food," Arthur dismissed.
Merlin took a few more careful sips, then relaxed back into the pillows, looking around, a curiosity in his eyes that made Arthur nervous. "Merlin, an dtuigeann tú mé? Do you understand me?" he asked to get the boys attention.
Arthur held his breath as Merlin's eyes focused back on him, seemed to take him in. He felt his heart stop when a hand came up, fingers lightly tracing his face with that same curiosity. He felt tears gather in his eyes when there was no recognition in them. Had he pulled Merlin back too soon? He hadn't thought so. His lover had already been so close to consciousness, had simply needed a last push of strength, a little helping hand. He let the tears slide down his cheeks, felt those exploring fingers wipe away the trails they made. Unable to help himself, Arthur grabbed that curious hand in his own, closing his eyes as he turned his face, lightly kissing the scarred palm. He couldn't hide his disappointment, couldn't hide his sorrow that they had failed.
"Arthur." The King turned back, surprised now to see recognition. He nodded, saying nothing, letting Merlin roll his name around. He wanted desperately to reach out with the Bond, but he was afraid of overwhelming his lover. The familiar gesture to the palm had helped, so he leaned down, capturing the warlock's lips. It took only a moment before he received a response, then a moment more for the kiss to transform from curiosity to something else. Hesitant at first- like his lover was struggling to remember how- then moving to not quite desperation, but exceptionally eager as it seemed to come back to him. Arthur found himself needing to take control of it again, to make it slow and tender. He drew back when Merlin whispered his name against his lips, and there was love in that whisper, fondness, tenderness, concern for his tears.
"Yes, Arthur," Merlin finally answered, moving to connect his forehead to Arthur's in their familiar pose. "Yes, I understand you. I know you," he murmured. "Thank you. I needed to remember. I forgot, for a moment. But I'm here," he confirmed. "I'm here, in the now."
"Merlin," Arthur growled, gathering the younger man into a tight hug, enjoying the feel of the skin against his hands, of the thin arms wrapping around him in return. "By the gods, Love, I've missed you!"
"How?" Merlin asked, his breath tickling Arthur's ear, making him shiver. "We died. I remember dying."
Arthur barked a laugh. "Aithusa. He healed us." He shook his head when he felt the boy tense in his arm, trying to draw back. "Shhh, no. No more questions. You need to rest, Love. I can feel how tired you still are. I'll wake you again in a little while for some food."
"I'm fine," Merlin murmured, even as his muscles began to relax in Arthur's tight hold, and his eyes desperately wanted to close.
"You will be, in a few days. I can feel it. It's okay. We have all the time we need. Rest now," Arthur replied softly, rubbing his hands up and down the back slowly. He didn't let go until he felt the form in his arms relax completely into sleep. Even then he held on for a little longer, knowing Merlin always slept easier when he was being held.
Arthur placed a gentle kiss to his lovers' temple. "Welcome back, Love."
MERLIN10101010101010MERLIN
"Durstan!" Arthur called, jogging to catch up. The Dumnonian Prince turned, waiting for him. He spared only a glance for the little white companion on the King's shoulder that had become a nearly constant presence these past few days. Strange as it was, most were becoming accustomed to it, despite the fact that Aithusa seemed very particular in who he liked and who he didn't. He seemed to enjoying hissing at a great many, though he would still at a gentle tut from Arthur.
"Arthur," the Prince greeted, offering a bow, since there were soldiers passing by them. They seemed determined to ignore the little hiss at them from Arthur's shoulder. "Aithusa," he smiled. He hoped someday the little dragon would like him, though Ian had been quick to spread the word that Arthur would be taking him back later today. It had been hard to tell which thrilled him more, the removal of the tiny dragon or the fact that Merlin had woken for a short time.
"I wanted to talk to you. First, I don't think I ever got the chance to properly thank you for all you did. Your actions turned the tide of this war." He motioned for them to continue walking. "Yours, and Gwen's. You make a good team."
Durstan nodded, accepting the compliment. "We do. She's a formidable woman. She bullied practically every one of your allies into sending help." He chuckled. "I have a great respect for her."
Arthur cast him a sidelong glance. "Only respect?"
"I won't deny my affections for her, if that's what you're hinting at. A strange culture, to dance about an easy subject," Durstan shook his head, truly perplexed.
"Then, she's aware of your affections?"
"Of course. I've made no secret of it. Nor my attraction to her." Durstan frowned then, a thought occurred to him. "Arthur, if you intend to make her a true Queen, I will not interfere."
Arthur laughed, shaking his head. "Nothing like that, Durstan. I'm afraid I will be a disappointment to the Pendragon dynasty. I love Merlin, and the idea of betraying him by marrying another... I can't even make myself consider it. Not after all we've been through. It seems so small, now, this thing of marrying just for politics." Arthur shook his head. "No, Durstan. Marriage should be a matter of love." He smiled sadly. "Though he would be grievously hurt if I ever told him as much. He spends every day thinking I'll enter a political marriage, if only to secure an heir. He never says it, but I know it's true."
Durstan cocked his head. "Arthur, you won't have a choice much longer. Even now, on the wings of this great victory flies change. Each of the leaders are seeking a marriage contract with the High King. Even my mother has put forth a request."
Arthur laughed. "I'm sorry, Durstan, but I've already said no to marrying your sister, though I'm sure she's a lovely woman and will a make a fine wife some day."
Durstan smiled, shaking his head. "You misunderstand, Arthur. My mother wants to offer you the hand of our Elder Prince. She thinks she's being clever."
Arthur's eyes were nearly popping out of his head. "What?" How had this discussion been turned around so drastically?
Durstan nodded. "Yes. She sees it as a solution to one of her problems. The Elder Prince is also subject to a politically beneficial marriage. As the Elder Prince is currently, and was previously, your Prince Consort, then she couldn't think of a way to meet the responsibility without causing insult to Camelot. It was my sister who actually suggested it to her. Mother leapt on it as the ideal fix." He frowned. "Arthur, are you alright? You're worrying Aithusa."
Arthur coughed, remembered to draw air back in, to close his mouth. "Durstan, that's… unfortunately, the laws of Camelot forbid it."
"But the laws of Dumnonia do not. We will not take offense if you take a wife as well. The Elder Prince obviously cannot provide an heir and while he is not required to provide one of his own, we understand that you must. So long as your marital obligations to the Elder Prince are met first. Really, Arthur. Are your people so rigid? I sincerely hope not. I've already added our request to those of the others."
Arthur laughed, shaking his head, dismissing it for now, returning to his original point of starting this conversation. "Actually, Durstan, I was going to ask you the same thing. If you'd consider an arrangement between you and Gwen, provided she agreed, of course."
Durstan shook his head sadly. "I'm honored and wish with all my heart I could agree. But I have no throne to offer her, Arthur. I am last in line, last even after the children my siblings bear. It would not be a suitable match for her. There is nearly as much interest for her hand in those offers as there is for yours."
"Nor does she have a throne to offer you," Arthur pointed out. "It's another reason I shy from marriage. Any woman I marry would likely want to be Queen, especially if they get away with this High King rubbish. Gwen has filled the role above and beyond what we first agreed on, and the people of Camelot love her, trust her. Of course, if she ever wishes to step down, I'll give her my blessing. Her happiness matters greatly to me. But I have made the decision that I will never ask her to. I am content to have her now, and forevermore, Queen of Camelot. I haven't discussed details with her, but I wanted to make sure I wasn't entirely wrong in your affections for her, first."
"You're not wrong, Arthur. And if you should find it an honorable match, then I would happily assure you I have no desire for your throne. Especially as it is about to become a burdensome responsibility. King was bad enough," Durstan laughed jovially, mocking a shudder. "High King? You're a far better man than I, Arthur. I like only being a lowly third Prince and Trade Master," he grinned. "I like that even Merlin outranks me. I am not threatened by the rank she will hold above me, nor would I diminish her to make my own stature higher."
Arthur hesitated. There was one small matter which could potentially be of great importance. "Durstan, you know she was married before." The Prince nodded. "They had no children." There. That was as delicate as he could put it.
Durstan's face softened. "I am aware she is barren, Arthur. She told me. As I have said, I have no throne to offer, and am under no responsibility to provide my Kingdom with a suitable heir. That job falls to my oldest brother, and he has two already. And given the unusual arrangement between the two of you, I would naturally assume any children she did bear would never wear the crown of Camelot."
Arthur sighed in relief. "Somehow I knew you'd understand. If you require it, Durstan, you have my formal permission, encouragement, and blessing, to court the Queen Regent. She deserves nothing less than a love match. Agreements akin to our conversation will have to be made on both sides, but so far your Mother has proved herself a shrewd woman- much like her son." He nodded.
He started to walk away, then stopped. "And Durstan? Send me a copy of your mother's proposal regarding the Elder Prince."
Durstan's face, already grinning from ear to ear, nearly split in two as he bowed enthusiastically.
Arthur continued walking, shaking his head, spinning the ring on his finger. To be formally wedded to Merlin- even if only by what he assumed would be a very druidic ritual. It made his heart dance a little. It wasn't something either had considered before.
He was very much considering it now.
MERLIN101010101010MERLIN
Arthur sat on the ground against a stone in the clearing, waiting for Kilgharrah. He had no way to call him, so he settled himself to wait patiently, hoping that his instruction to his tiny friend had been obeyed. He opened the little packet of raw white fish and sour apples he'd filched from the Nemeth kitchens for the dragon, laying it out on the ground in front of him like a little picnic for the baby. His two favorites. He found himself relaxing, enjoying this little bit of peace. They were only a half hour away from the city, but it was good to get away, and he was in no hurry for the dragon to appear. Had he been, he could have waited until Merlin was awake enough to Call him.
Warmth filled him. A fortunate day, Durstan had called it. He couldn't help but agree. While he hadn't been awake long, Merlin was recovering nicely. His biggest worry- that the mind once stretched into and connected to every corner of the universe could never truly be whole again- was assuaged. While he suspected moments might pop up, his lover had known him, had known when he was, and was present enough even to understand his own language again. With his lover on the mend, they'd be heading home soon. Arthur felt like he had left it years ago, rather than the few weeks it had been. He thought he'd never see it again.
Home. There was so much to be done in the meantime, and he had a feeling this High King rubbish was going to be more problematic than it was worth. He didn't want it. He was content to rule Camelot with Gwen and Merlin by his side. Somehow, he didn't think he was going to get that option. Especially if the other leaders had their way. He'd seen the stack of proposals, though he hadn't deigned to open any of them once he'd discovered what they were. It had, however, given him the idea to track down the Dumnonian. He was pleased with his conversation with Durstan this morning. He knew Gwen loved the Prince, knew the Prince loved her, would treat her well, and hadn't felt the slightest bit guilty in giving them the push he felt they needed.
He'd been completely shocked by the Prince's suggestion that he marry Merlin to formalize the alliance between Camelot and Dumnonia. It had never occurred to him before. Perhaps it should have, he thought, twisting his ring again, imagining it on the finger of the man he had marched through Hell for. The image made him shiver, made parts of him definitely take interest.
He looked at the little miracle that had given him this chance, currently giving little content chirps as it gobbled the fish. He switched easily to the language the dragon responded to most often. "And why not?" he asked his friend. "Why shouldn't I consider it? It was one thing when his titles came from me. It's quite another to mark it a political match. He's a Prince in his own right now, not through me. The People of Camelot have accepted him as he is, and they love him." Arthur laughed. "I kissed him on a battlefield in front of ten thousand of our own soldiers, and thousands of enemies. Since none of those soldiers have tried to assassinate me yet, I have to believe that they simply don't care. Right?"
Aithusa chirped at him, and he laughed. "You're very easy to talk to. You've been a true and good friend. I'm going to miss you terribly," Arthur confessed. "I hope you understand how grateful I am, we both are. But you need to go and learn how to be a proper dragon. Learn to speak, to be big and scary." He laughed when Aithusa raised his wings threateningly and hissed at him. "Alright, alright, you're very scary. My brave little friend," Arthur sighed fondly. "I hope you understand me when I say you will always be welcome in Camelot. Though I don't think we can get you white fish there. Not raw, and salted wouldn't be good for you."
"He knows, Arthur," a deep rumble came from behind him, and Arthur whirled. The Great Dragon had landed behind him. "He can hear your heart, even if he doesn't understand every word," Kilgharrah smiled. "Why have you come?"
"Aithusa needs to be with his own kind," Arthur answered sadly. "I was worried when he didn't leave. He's been with me since I woke up. I don't know anything about dragons- for all I know the fish he loves so much is poison to him!- and until this morning, Merlin wasn't available to offer any advice."
"How is the young warlock?"
"Getting stronger every day, thanks to Aithusa. He woke up this morning, for a short time. He's still tired, though. I'm sorry, but he wasn't strong enough yet to come with me today."
"I am pleased to hear it, and I did not expect him to be so. The magic Aithusa healed you both with was instinctive, and done without finesse. All Dragons have a natural gift. Mine is to see some of the paths of destiny. His, obviously, is Healing- for only an inborn gift would have been powerful enough to save Merlin."
"There are no words for my gratitude, truly. We've known for some time that the battle with Morgana would likely cost him his life- and mine by extension. I'm not entirely sure why we were given a second chance, but I'm happy for it," Arthur confessed honestly. "And I won't give you, or Aithusa, cause to regret it, I swear."
"Aithusa chose to Heal you on his own, Arthur. He did not like your pain, and so healed the cause of it, healed Merlin. I was as surprised as you when I felt my Dragonlord draw another breath. He sees something in you and has bonded with you. It's not unusual for young dragons to develop deep affections very quickly, especially those present at its birth. I have to wonder what your father would say could he see you with a dragon perched happily on your shoulder," Kilgharrah chuckled.
Arthur smiled at the little dragon who had once again taken his favorite place. "My father was threatened by forces he couldn't understand. I chose to understand them first, then decide which ones threatened me." He chuckled. "Aithusa is only a threat to me if I try to take one of his apples." He teased the dragon by pretending to reach down to take one.
The little dragon hissed at him, flying off his shoulder to crouch protectively around his little stash of fish and apples. Arthur laughed- genuinely laughed- and it felt so good. It felt like forever since he'd done so. The battle behind them, Albion being born with ever more weight being put onto his shoulders, and yet he felt lighter and freer than he ever had before. He hadn't been wrong in recognizing the hope the little dragon brought with him into the world.
"It is good to see you like this, Arthur. There has been so much pain and suffering over the years. The world begins to feel like it is taking its first easy breath for over a hundred years. And it pleases me still to come with news."
"News?"
"Indeed. Magic has accepted your apology."
Arthur looked surprised. "Oh. I thought that was… when Aithusa healed us… I'm grateful, to know that I've repaired the wrong."
"He did that on his own."
Arthur frowned. "If I hadn't made those threats, would you have been able to heal Merlin?"
Kilgharrah shook his head. "The damage done to the warlock was beyond anything I could repair. Reviving him even for those few minutes was stretching the limits of my abilities. Until Aithusa healed him, I would have thought it beyond any power I know of. Merlin was too young, too inexperienced, to have faced that battle so soon. We feared the worst. That he succeeded at all was beyond any hope."
Arthur nodded. "I know. Artemis and Gwen have tried to hide it from me, but they don't know what I've seen. I know it's my fault it almost killed him. Nothing warned me of the danger I was putting him in. All I could see was how I could use the Bond to protect him, and like the fool I am, I rushed headlong into it." He took a deep breath. "I didn't think I'd have to live long enough to feel guilty. I'm still adjusting to that."
"In truth, we did not know that your power was so closely tied with the timing of this destiny. In doing so, however, you both have saved this country years of war, strife and famine. The story we have all been a part of will live long in the minds of men, Arthur. It speaks to the strength of you both that you were able to bring him back to his true form."
Arthur thought he very much heard a subtle hint at the 'two sides of the same coin' phrase the dragon had often enjoyed throwing at his lover.
He took a deep breath. "So what's to come?"
"Peace, King Arthur. At long last, peace. Magic has no more challenges for you, Arthur, save one. Albion has been born, and to see it continue, an Heir must be born of your lineage."
Arthur groaned. "Not you too. I can't marry someone I don't have feelings for. And my heart is entirely devoted to Merlin." He looked up. "I'm sorry."
"A way will be provided, Arthur. You need only be open to it. But hear me well. Should any other but one of your blood take the throne, this land will be darkened and cursed forevermore by the deeds that will follow. This future had been set since you both returned to the world of the living. After the rage of your father, magic cursed the Pendragon line. This cannot be undone, even for the life you have returned to it. The gift of the dragon, however, has earned an opportunity. You will need a vessel to heal this curse, and it will only work once."
"A vessel?"
"Merlin has seen this in the Cave. He understands. I lend only my voice to your understanding that it must be a child of your blood."
"Thank you," Arthur answered a little awkwardly. "Will we see you both again?" He looked over at the little white dragon, and felt a tug on his heart.
"I will come again to bless the birth of your Heir, Arthur. Until then, do try to keep our young friend in one piece. Magic has only this last request of you, but there are dangers still in the world of man."