Merlin blinked back into consciousness, pain washing over him in waves of black spots dancing in his vision. He tried to move his fingers. Apathetic shock washed over him. That was bad. He knew it was bad. What had Gaius said about numbness and blood loss? Merlin blinked, silent panic settling over his chest. This wasn't good. Not good at all.

He needed to get up, needed to get help.

He tried to push himself up, chest and arms heaving with the strain, but to no avail. He collapsed, vision swimming as he stared up at the green canopy above him, the sun shining through in glimmering patches.

He coughed, blood welling up in his chest. He vaguely felt something snuffle close to his hand, a small, wet snout pressing up against his side. A small, dark body blocked his vision, before it moved, revealing a white snout, and worried blue eyes looking down at him.

"Aithusa," he croaked, the small dragon making a warbling noise at the back of her throat. Tears threatened to spill, and if Merlin could, he would raise his hand to comfort the young dragon.

He coughed again, spots of blood soaked into the ground beneath him as he rolled onto his side.

Aithusa waddled closer to him, snuffling his hair, soft, confused warbles breaking the soft silence which had overtaken the clearing.

One hand clenched to his body in an effort to ward off the pain, Merlin reached out his hand slowly, running his hand over the dragon's white scales, now turning a rust colour, as if she had been brushed with a thin layer of paint, his blood coating her small body.

"Stay," he managed to croak out. If Merlin was going to die, he didn't want to do it alone. The tears were running freely down his face now, just as the blood in his body was.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair on him, or on Aithusa. He still had so much to do, so much he needed to do, wanted to do. He had followed his destiny, and how did the universe repay him? A slow painful death on the forest floor, bleeding out, the only company and witness to his death a dragon hatchling, who would be left alone in this world, with no one to look after her after his passing.

Merlin choked back a rising sob in his throat. Aithusa would be all alone after he died, all alone, no one to protect her, to teach her. No one to be there to hold her in the cruel world which Merlin had brought her into. He would die here, and she would be all alone.

He tried once more to move his arms, this time to brush the tears away from his face, but it was becoming harder by the second.

Aithusa snuffled in, her snout pressed into Merlin's cheeks as he cried, the small dragon's own cries piercing the air.

"I'm sorry," Merlin croaked out, not bothering to hide the pain and sadness which clogged his voice. "I'm sorry, so sorry. I brought you into this world… I'm sorry, 'thusa, so, so sorry…"

He trailed off, his breaths becoming harder to draw, the dark spots once more dancing around the corner of his visions.

It was becoming harder to breathe, harder to move, the numbness in his side starting to spread throughout his entire body.

He forced his eyes open, so he could at least look at the hatchling one last time, but she was gone. A choked sob slipped out of his mouth.

"Aithusa?" he called, vaguely aware of the tears coming down his face. "Aithusa?"

Pain tore at Merlin's chest.

He was going to die. Merlin was going to die, and he was alone and tired and scared. Would anyone think to look for him? How long would it take before they noticed that he was missing? Would they mourn? Would they even care?

There was a dull throbbing in his side now, blood rushing through his body, and out of it as well.

The black spots dancing in his vision started to grow bigger, and Merlin collapsed into unconsciousness, blood soaking through his shirt, alone.


Arthur woke, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he did so, his sleep-addled brain not yet aware of the implications of waking up slowly.

He snuggled further down into the bed, arm reaching out to draw Guinevere in close to him, only to find the other side of the bed cold. Still partially asleep, his brow furrowed. That was strange.

Usually Guinevere was still there in the mornings when Mer-

Arthur sat bolt up, no longer asleep, eyes scanning his chambers for any sign that his wayward servant had shown up that morning.

Cursing as he stumbled to his feet, Arthur yanked the first items of clothing he could find out of his cupboard, and, throwing them on (yes, Merlin, he could dress himself), he grabbed his sword, ready to go down to Gaius' chambers to go find out what had happened to said servant.

Arthur didn't make it out the door.

The creature barrelled into him, its small body strong for its size, and Arthur tensed, surprise and adrenaline coursing through his body.

The white creature had latched onto his body and clothes, and Arthur, feeling his heart return to normal, the blood which had been a roaring river in his ears just before, could now hear the small whimpers coming from the creature.

And then he noticed the blood. The small dragon, at least, Arthur assumed it was a baby dragon, considering its wings and four legs, was mostly white, but parts of its body was covered in a rust colour, the smell perforating throughout Arthur's nostrils, a familiar, but not welcome smell.

The dragon jumped off of him, warbling, and Arthur couldn't help but notice the panic in its voice, in its eyes, and something tugged at his heart. But… this was a dragon, and even though this one looked small, and slightly pathetic compared to the other dragon Arthur had seen, those memories just kept coming back. The burning, the screams, the destruction, and this one appeared to be, while not covered, slightly bloodied. What if it had just killed someone? What if Arthur was its next victim?

And yet… there was something, a niggling in the back of his mind, as he watched the dragon slink towards the door, something which told him that he should follow the small creature, that something important was about to happen.

The dragon had made it to the door, its warbles becoming more frantic as it ran around in circles, bouncing up and down as it stared at Arthur.

Shifting his sword in his sheath, Arthur felt torn. On the one hand, he knew he should probably just kill the creature, save Camelot the trouble of having to kill it later on when it was bigger and harder to kill… but on the other hand, Arthur would never learn what was making the baby dragon so frantic.

Arthur sighed.

It would seem he had no choice. Whatever the dragon wanted to show him could be important, even vital to the continued survival of his kingdom.

But just because he was king, didn't mean that he should go following a dragon in the mid morning, where anyone could see.

Mind made up, he scooped the dragon into his arms, casting his eyes around for his saddlebags, which he knew Merlin usually cast off in the cor-

Merlin!

Arthur froze where he stood, small dragon struggling in his arms. Something told him he should go get the man, go and at least tell one person where he was going (even if said person would probably follow him anyway), but his body was screaming at him now, to go and see what had a dragon panicked so much. Besides, Merlin would probably be more afriad of the dragon anyway, no use in bringing him along.

Snatching up his saddlebags, he unceremoniously shoved the dragon inside, giving it a solid glare as he did so. The dragon stilled, watching him with its blue eyes. Did it- did it understand what Arthur was trying to tell it? What if… what if the other dragon, the one Arthur had killed, what if it could understand them? What if- No. That line of thoughts would just lead to a long line of questioning, one which, judging by the antsy movements of the baby dragon inside his bags, would take too long.

Closing the clasp, Arthur glanced around his chambers, and, noticing the quill and ink on his desk, he wondered whether he should leave a message.

No. He would be back before evening.


Merlin felt like he was floating, his body seeming to become weightless within the darkness of his mind, up and up and up…


Arthur slipped off of his horse, glancing around quickly, before he unclasped his saddle bags, freeing the small dragon from its confinement.

The dragon sprang free, alighting onto the ground, body quivering, snout twitching as it sniffed the air.

A cry, and it was off, springing forward a few paces, before turning to look back at Arthur, waiting for him to catch up.

Sighing, he flicked his sword free of its sheath. It was time…


The darkness was cool in Merlin's mind, and a sense of peace washed over him, as he relaxed into the dark, it wasn't going to hurt him, in fact, it had taken away the pain.

It was almost time to go…


The dragon froze for a second, its body quivering for a second before it was off, its lithe, agile body speeding through the undergrowth, and all Arthur could was shout, as he struggled with a particularly thorny bush.

Shoving himself forward, he sprinted after the small dragon, his only indication of its movement the white flashes in the undergrowth.

Leaping over tree roots and trying not to trip over the thick undergrowth, Arthur hadn't realised that it was becoming less thick, until he emerged into the clearing.


The peacefulness washed over him, and for once in his life, he wasn't afraid, the weight of everything lifting off of his shoulders, away and away and away…


The body was in the middle of the clearing, and Arthur wasn't sure whether the person was alive or dead, the dappled sunlight highlighting the body in a halo.

The little dragon surged forward, soft whimpers as it snuffled at the person, and oh, Arthur recognised that jacket…

It couldn't be…

No…


He couldn't remember his name, but that didn't matter anymore. The darkness was cool, yet in-

Light pierced his eyes, and he winced as it grew larger, a pain worse than he had ever known before slamming into him, and Merlin woke, vomiting up blood as he was pulled from unconsciousness…


"MERLIN!"

Panic set in, Arthur ran to the other man's side, heart in his throat as he quickly turned him onto his back, one of his hands coming away, sticky with blood.

He stared in horror, Merlin's side bathed in the stuff, sticks and small bits of leaf matter sticking to it.

Something deep within Arthur's mind told him that he should do something to stop the bleeding, but all he could do was stare, the bile rising up in his throat, straining his willpower as his stomach curdled at the sight.

Arthur had seen death. Had watched as countless knights had died, had killed others himself. But nothing, no amount of death could have ever prepared him for this. His best friend, on the forest floor, for who knew how long, bleeding out with no one to watch except for a drag-

Almost as if it had read his mind, the dragon warbled, butting its head against Arthur's knee, watching him with pitiful eyes.

Arthur shook his head. He needed to do something. Anything. All he had to do was pretend it was any other of his knights, and not one of his closest friends… simple, right?

It was anything but simple. Everytime he looked at the blood, he felt his eyes drawn to Merlin's face, and vice versa. It was a vicious cycle.

Arthur slashed through his cloak, pressing the strips of cloth onto Merlin's side, a shuddering gasp coming from the unconscious man, and Arthur's heart stopped.

Maybe Merlin would live after all.

But Arthur wouldn't be able to move him.

Not when Merlin was in this state, he would be more likely to aggravate the wound then actually help Merlin, in fact the only other person who could possibly help Merlin would be G-

Gaius!

Maintaining pressure on Merlin's side, he turned to look at the small dragon pacing behind him.

"Hello?" he called out, urgency surging through his body. The small dragon stopped its pacing and looked up, a worried warbling sound, almost question-like coming from its mouth. "I need you to get Gaius. Gai-us. He's the court physician, if you can get him out here, he might be able to heal Merlin."

The dragon cocked its head at Arthur, eyes confused.

It didn't understand him, what exactly was Arthur expecting? It was a dragon, it wasn't like it could ta-

"Heal?"

The dragon tottered forward on its small legs, and Arthur would have found it adorable had it not been for this new, frightening revelation. Dragons could talk?

Shaking his head, he nodded.

"Yes, Gaius, he can heal Merlin, can save him."

But the baby dragon seemed to continue to not understand, wobbling forward once more, nudging at Arthur's hands, pressing in to stop the bleeding. It looked up once more at Arthur, with those sad, blue eyes, "Heal?"

Before Arthur could repeat his statement, the dragon forcefully pushed his hands away, and he let out a cry. What was it doing? Surely if the dragon could speak, then it must have enough intelligence to realise that bleeding was bad. It had had enough sense to come look for Arthur after all.

Immediately, he tried to push the small creature away from Merlin, trying to reapply pressure to the wound.

But the dragon didn't budge. Instead, it glared at Arthur, and hissed, baring its small teeth, before turning back to Merlin.

It wiggled its butt, wings spreading open, and before Arthur could stop it, it had taken a deep breath, ready to spew fire.

But it was not fire which came out. A golden mist wavered in the air, and even though it was quite clearly magic, Arthur couldn't suppress the gasp of awe as it alighted in the air, dancing and weaving as it settled onto the wound.

Arthur waited with baited breath. It wasn't possible, was it? There was no way that the dragon could have just done what he thought it had do-

Merlin's body heaved, coughs wracking his frame, as he rolled over and vomited, retching up the contents of his stomach, before collapsing once more onto the forest floor, chest heaving as he took in large gulps of air.

Arthur stared in shock.

Merlin had been on the cusp of death, and yet, and yet… he found his gaze drawn to the small dragon, tail wagging slowly as it watched Merlin, letting out an excited yip as it leapt on top of his chest. Merlin groaned at the impact, eyes slowly opening, confusion on his face as he woke.

"Aithusa?"

The dragon stopped its happy dance, nuzzling its face into Merlin's neck, making warbling noises as it did so.

Something in Arthur's brain stopped, for the third time that day. Merlin… knew the dragon?

But how? And why?

Arthur would have thought that Merlin would know best about what dragons were capable of, and yet… this was very much Merlin. Befriend a potentially dangerous creature, despi-

"Arthur?"

The tone was wary, and Arthur doubted that he would ever forget the look on Merlin's face, his friend's arms wrapped tight around the small dragon, fear shining in his eyes.

Slowly, Arthur got to his feet, holding out his hand to Merlin, who regarded it apprehensively for a few seconds, before clasping it with his own, allowing himself to be hauled to his feet, other arm still wrapped protectively over the baby dragon.

"Come on," Arthur whispered gently. "Let's go home."

Merlin blinked almost owlishly, puzzled expression crossing his features, "Home?"

Outwardly, Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes at his friend, but inwardly, Arthur's entire being cringed. Did Merlin really think of him that badly? Did-

No. Get back to Camelot first, questions later.

"Yes, back to Camelot," he replied, turning to leave. "Oh, and Merlin?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Merlin tense, Aithusa wriggling in his arms.

"Yes?"

"You might want to use my saddlebag to hide the dragon in."

And, with the soft crunch of Merlin's footsteps on the forest floor behind him, and a small, yet excitable dragon running between the two, Arthur made his way back to Camelot.