"Wow!" Merlin cried with a slight smile as the large, brown dog jumped up on him where he sat on the park bench, it's whole back end wiggling with happiness.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," cried the man chasing after its leash. "He just does that sometimes!"

Merlin laughed, reaching out to scratch the exuberant dog behind the ears. "No harm done," he said.

The dog's owner tugged the animal away, no doubt desperately desiring to finish the walk before the drizzle got serious. Merlin watched the dog bound joyfully around its master's legs a moment longer before he stood and turned away, heading home.

The sight of the dog bounding away triggered a bygone memory of a very similar dog bounding away after the heels of the royal blacksmith's boy. This dog looked remarkably like the one he'd brought to life as he'd struggled to learn a spell to save Arthur from the snakes on Knight Valiant's shield. Although the dog had been fierce, he'd also been incredibly friendly once they'd grown used to each other. Merlin had wished he could keep a pet but his living situation and his Destiny simply hadn't allowed for it.

As the ancient warlock crossed the wet, twisting streets, he lost himself in the memory of his first attempt at learning the complex animation spell on his own. It had taken him all night to learn to properly intone and wrap his tongue around the foreign words and combine them with his raw power. Later, he'd failed abysmally at returning the enchanted dog to its stone form, very likely, he now realized ages later, because he hadn't really wanted to. Life was such a beautiful thing. It had been so much easier to envision life in a still form than it had been to remove life and change it back to a solid carving, something Merlin was instinctively averse to doing. In the end, he'd given the dog to the blacksmith's boy who'd had an affinity for animals.

Gaius had asked him a million questions regarding the dog. Questions to which Merlin had had no definite answers. He remembered his beloved mentor sitting across the table from him, candlelight illuminating his white hair and curiosity illuminating his eyes.

"Was the dog truly alive or was it simply animated stone?"

"Well, it felt warm and real and it slobbered non-stop. It also ate my breakfast, lunch and dinner and, you know," he'd shrugged awkwardly, "did its business. It seemed pretty alive to me."

"Did you return it to its former state?"

"No, not exactly.."

An exacting eyebrow lifted. "Merlin, what have you done with it?"

"Well, I couldn't turn it back so I gave it to Hendry, James' son."

"And what happens when one day the boy's dog becomes a statue again? They'll surely remember who gave it to them in the first place!"

"Gaius! I couldn't turn it back! I hardly think it'll do so on its own!"

The old man had shaken his head and gentled his tone. "Merlin, spells such as this are designed for a very limited duration. That dog may not still be living and breathing tomorrow."

"Should I steal it back?"

Gaius must have seen the discouragement and creeping fear on Merlin's face.

"No, my boy. From what you tell me, I think there may be a possibility that you may have actually given the statue a life. The spell's limitations could have been overridden by your strength, I suppose." He had patted Merlin's head kindly. "Your gifts are truly amazing and beautiful, Merlin. They are truly unlike any other. Just ..try to keep an eye on the animal whenever you can and we'll have to come up with a good story, just in case it returns to stone."

As far as Merlin knew, it never had.

He broke from his thoughts of ancient Camelot as he reached the steps of his current apartment and wiped his feet on the mat. Sounds of a squalling neighbor child and a blaring television welcomed him home. Compared to this small apartment in the noisy, bustling city, the cottage home on the shores of Avalon was a haven of peace but sometimes he just needed to be around people. He needed company.

The company of people was complicated, however, definitely a mixed blessing; every few years it required moving on and assuming new identities to conceal his immortality. The company of animals was much easier; they never cared that you were an eternally young-looking multi-centenarian. Merlin had had numerous pets over the years, but their lives were very short and he had no desire to procure a tortoise. Although it could provide century-long companionship, it could prove to be a rather lackluster friend. He sighed. If only tortoises were a bit livelier and more expressive.

Merlin opened the door and stopped to shake his umbrella. After settling into the comfort of his sofa he pulled a warm throw over himself and gazed out the window at the rain, still thinking about the dog of long ago. His father's carving, sitting on a nearby shelf, caught his eye and a crazy idea popped into his head. He summoned the beloved carving and gently rubbed his thumb over the wings.

What if?

Dragons lived so long. He could finally have a companion to share his days at least until Arthur returned and his life was once again subject to the demands of Destiny and no longer his own. If it all went wrong he could easily return the dragon to its wooden form. Merlin cocked his head, considering, trying to weigh the pros and cons. Admittedly, he couldn't come up with any cons, which worried him. Usually the cautious "Gaius" voice in his head had plenty to say in situations like this and he counted on it to help him keep himself out of trouble.

"Come on, Gaius!" he called aloud. "This is insane, right? Tell me why I shouldn't do this."

Utter stillness echoed in his mind. Impatiently, he mentally threw his hands in the air, wondering vaguely why he felt a need to either restrain or justify himself.

"I'm the most powerful warlock ever to walk the earth. I'm a Dragon Lord as well! And ...I'm lonely!" he practically shouted, startling himself with his own vehemence. Finally, he heard Gaius' voice arising from the depths of memory but it sounded fond and sad.

Oh, my boy…

The warlock blinked back tears. Yes, he was incredibly, heartbreakingly, devastatingly lonely. He drew in a deep breath and his eyes filled with shining gold as he once again repeated the spell he'd struggled to master over a millennium ago.

"Bebiede þe arisan cwicum."

A thrill of excitement shot through Merlin as the stiff wood became incredibly warm and pliable then changed to reveal a tiny dragon sitting in his palm. The miniature dragon stretched its legs and wings as though it had been sitting in one place too long. Merlin grinned as the tiny claws caught at his palm, and he admired the deep pine green color of its wings accentuated by the pale lines of their bone structure. The rest of the dragon's body, while dusted in some areas with the green, was actually more the sort of brassy brown that one saw on regular lizards. The beady eyes, calculating and expressive, were not the burning golden orange of Kilgharrah's but rather dark brown, almost black. Merlin, being a dragon lord, knew that dragons were noble, fearsome, powerful creatures that commanded the utmost respect and should never be regarded as even remotely cute, but when he noticed the few dark scales scattered across its snout, he couldn't help thinking, Awww! Freckles!

The little dragon settled itself again in Merlin's palm with a sort of self-satisfied expression. Faint tendrils of smoke began furling upwards from its nostrils.

"Do you speak?" Merlin asked curiously.

The dragon regarded the warlock with a rather knowing look in its eye.

"Hm. You know, an expression like that suggests to me that you can."

He waited a moment.

"Speak. Say something. Anything. Tell me your name."

Nothing.

Merlin summoned his power to command in the dragon tongue.

"Sas diatázo na milísete!"

The dragon simply regarded Merlin with a look that suggested that he could also have been well acquainted with Gaius.

"I see. Well.."

A thousand questions flooded Merlin's mind. Why couldn't it speak? Why this color? Was the creature envisioned in the creator's mind what the magic revealed? If so, had his father once known a dragon that looked and behaved like this one? If this were a real dragon did it have magic? Did he have the power to command it as a dragon lord if it was only an animation of a carving? If if if.. His musings were cut short when the little dragon suddenly sneezed and a spark shot out and singed the throw. Merlin laughed at the adorable sound.

"This'll be fun! I have many questions, my little friend, but I expect there'll be loads of time to get the answers. If there's anything we've got loads of," he sighed wearily, his smile dying a little, "it's time."

With a sudden pressure against his palm, the dragon launched itself into the air and flew to the window. It collided with the glass and fell to the sill, scrabbling with its tiny claws to cling to the wood. Merlin chuckled.

"That's glass for you. Very deceptive."

The dragon turned away with an embarrassed air and huffed.

"Come back over here, why don't you," coaxed the warlock.

The dragon tucked it's wings and hunched closer to the window pane determinedly staring out at the rainy street.

Oh dear. Apparently, he has the pride of a real dragon.

"Are you alright?" called Merlin. It would take more than a little knock and tumble to hurt a dragon but its small size engendered natural feelings of protectiveness. He approached with a gentle voice and hands.

"Flying for the very first time must be quite difficult," he murmured, mindful of the tiny dragon's feelings.

He gently stroked the crest of long spikes adorning the back of the creature's head. The dragon tensed but after a minute of gentle stroking, it relaxed against Merlin's hand and a gravelly sort of purring erupted. Merlin smiled.

"Are you hungry at all?"

The dragon responded with a meaningful chirp that was, again, adorable and easy to decipher.

"I'm guessing you'll be wanting meat for dinner. I think I still have steak in the freezer. It's probably not too freezer burnt. We can share, but my portion will be cooked. Of course, I'm guessing you want yours raw. I can't imagine Kilgharrah taking time to roast a deer before eating it, even though it would have been quite easy for him," the warlock prattled happily and turned away, heading for the kitchen. To his surprise, the little dragon suddenly swept past his ear, soaring before him into the next room then circling around and coming to land on Merlin's head, his small claws catching in the dark hair.

"Ouch!" Merlin winced. "We'll, um, we'll work on that."

His heart warmed as a small tail curled companionably around the curve of his ear, steadying the warm weight on his head. Merlin grinned as he hadn't in a very long time and his eyebrows rose high as he struggled to catch a glimpse of the little brown and green body perching near his hairline. His eyes lit up.

"Now to find you a name.."

The little dragon nestled into Merlin's dark curls and trilled in friendly agreement.