A/N: Bet you didn't think you'd see me here again... all thanks to COVID and WFH. Finally had time to rewatch Merlin, and feeling confident again in the characters and the story. Sorry to make you all reread.
Arthur saw Aithusa dip down out of sight and raced to meet her, his heart hammering in his chest. His horse broke into a clearing and then froze, rearing anxiously and pawing at the ground despite its years of service.
Two dragons sat side by side, facing them- one black, small and scarred; the other white, large and gleaming in the sun.
"Merlin?" he asked, sliding off his horse weightlessly in spite of his armor, feeling like a man in a dream. "Is that you?"
The smaller dragon cocked its head like a cat, its golden eyes narrowed slightly. They were pupilless and almost hypnotizing, but Arthur felt suddenly that they were less intelligent than they had been before. An animal's eyes maybe, or a child's.
Aithusa swung her head from Emrys to Arthur and back again. Even without telepathy Arthur could feel her frustration at not being able to speak to him and he stepped forward, hands semi-raised as the black dragon drew back in alarm.
"Hi," Arthur said, stupidly. He had been searching for Merlin since the day of the battle but in all that time he hadn't thought of anything to say. He reached out instead, pulling his glove off of his hand. "S'okay. It's me."
Emrys snorted, flapping his wings slightly and moving his head out of reach. Aithusa made a crooning noise and his tail swatted around the trees once, twice, like an angry cat.
"It's me," Arthur said again, moving as slowly as he was able while keeping his eyes fixed on the dragon's face. He was searching for some sign of Merlin, fighting back a growing wave of bitter disappointment at seeing no recognition there.
The dragon made a sighing noise and his neck dipped like a swan, suddenly butting against the king's outstretched hand so hard that Arthur stumbled back slightly. He was expecting a dramatic reaction- he wasn't sure what, but something... magical. What happened instead was so subtle he wasn't sure that anything had happened at all. The dragon's eyes widened and for a brief second Arthur swore they were a familiar blue, but then they returned to their hazy, unfocused gold. Even so, the dragon shoved his head into the king's hand again, almost nuzzling.
"He doesn't know me?" Arthur looked up at Aithusa while stroking the black dragon, hearing a thickness in his own voice. Aithusa looked pityingly down at him and he took a deep breath. "All this time, I never stopped looking for him. I know he would have done the same for me. I just... I thought..." Arthur sighed and lowered his hand, turning away from the dragons.
"My lord, are we to return to Camelot?" One of the knights asked. Arthur was poised to answer when he felt a sharp tug on his cape and hot breath on his neck. Turning, he found the Merlin-dragon's face only inches from his own. He saw his own reflection in the large eyes, blinking owlishly at him, and he shook his head.
"You are to return to Camelot. Inform the Queen I will not be returning just yet."
"Sire?"
"I want to stay for a little," he said softly. "I haven't given up on you yet, Merlin."
Emrys watched the man on the horse approach and felt some trepidation. Aithusa was radiating calm so he stayed put but at the same time, something about the shiny hardness of the man's skin made him feel wary. The man came closer and Emrys felt a pang of... something. He didn't know what but it was uncomfortably strong. The man was making noises he couldn't understand.
He looked at Aithusa, questioning.
A friend, she replied. He cares for you very much. You knew him once, before you knew me.
This answer seemed to upset him, and she felt confusion emanating from him in waves.
You dream of him, Emrys. You were someone different before, someone that loved him.
Emrys was unnerved. There was something familiar about him; something that set him apart from the men astride their horses at the end of the clearing, but it felt like there was a door separating him and the knowledge of what. He finally moved to meet the outstretched hand, taking in the man's scent. Something familiar there, too. Something good. Flashes of laughter, of protectiveness, of loyalty.
The man was speaking again, unfamiliar sounds. He was leaving and Emrys knew suddenly that he didn't want him to leave, not with so many unanswered questions. He stepped on the fabric draped over the man's back and stared, searching, into his face when he turned.
There were words, distant echoes in a language he couldn't understand- important words. Something lost.
The other men departed, some looking back over their shoulders. Emrys sat and listened as the shining man began to speak.