AN: Hello, friends! I honestly have no idea if anyone still reads this or is waiting on an update. I always intended to finish Destinies, but Graduate school hit me like a bullet train, and for a time, this fell off my radar. If you followed my ANs, you'll know that I had a dream of becoming a professor. That dream has passed through my fingers. It's been a difficult, wonderful, painful, incredible 6 years of growth for me. I'm a different person with different dreams now. Perhaps that suits my characters whose lives were also turned upside down. Perhaps it's the change that needed to happen for me to write Arthur as he fights through his own paradigm shift. :)
I operate mostly on AO3 these days, and I may post this story on there with updates one day as I find time. Until then, I'd like to give myself closure on this tale which has lived in my mind. These characters have a place in my heart. To all the readers who fell off in the literal years long gap, I sincerely apologize. If you're still around- all my love to you, and I hope you will enjoy these final installments. There will be one or two more chapters to wrap up the story, then I will give my characters their conclusions and send them to live in the imaginary futures created by any readers who remain.
Yours most sincerely,
An author who has changed profoundly and hopes you will forgive her and enjoy her conclusion.
~Sandyy
"You don't ever rest, do you?" Arthur tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and kept his eyes fixed ahead. Dartmoor was not as calm as the last time he'd visited. There were more people outside now, more worried faces, the air held a tension he hadn't felt before. The Dartmoor refuge, as he understood it, was meant to be a safe and neutral place. It had its own community of long-term residents and many transient persons, on their way to somewhere safer, or stopping over until storms passed in the outside world. But this storm was too big for Iseldir's safe haven to ignore. Neutrality was fast becoming no longer an option as Cenred and Rodor went head to head over centers of resources and communications.
"No time for it," Arthur answered as Iseldir fell in step with him. He turned, searching for the house number belonging to Brigid: the house he'd first encountered when he came searching for Balinor. That day felt like an eternity ago now.
"It's further down. You shouldn't push yourself too much," the Druid warned gently. Arthur did slow his step, turning his head to watch as a curtain dropped, the eyes peering from behind it vanishing from sight. It wasn't the first time he'd seen that. Two children playing in the street had stopped their game to watch him go by, and several adults appeared around corners or in windows to peer. It was unsettling.
"Why are they staring?" he asked.
"You're here. You and Emrys," Iseldir answered. Arthur raised an eyebrow. Emrys. That was the name he'd learned yesterday as Merlin quietly reeled off a story so wild, he wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't lived a story parallel: Merlin saving his life when they were children, Mordred and Merlin's relationship with the Druids, Morgana's magic that Merlin had known about, Gaius' guidance as Merlin learned to use his magic, and then… all the events that had taken place in the last couple of months. Merlin had played a very different role than Arthur had imagined, and yet the facts lined up with alarming ease, revealing Merlin's double life as a sorcerer and some sort of modern Druidic legend.
"Emrys. You mean Merlin…?" he asked. The name Merlin said the Druids had given him. It kept coming up. "What does that name mean?"
"It is the name given to the greatest warlock ever to walk the earth." Arthur stopped in his tracks.
"Gaius said the same thing," he said slowly. And if not for that fact, he might have asked Iseldir whether they were truly talking about the same person: Merlin. Merlin, who tripped over his own feet. Merlin who had dropped and broken a mug just the day before. Merlin, his childhood friend and college housemate who sat with him when he was sick, ducked the pillows Arthur threw at him, brought takeout meals on the long days, and listened to his gripes about Morgan and Uther on the difficult days…
"You don't believe it?" Iseldir asked. How could he…? Merlin was his friend and flatmate who cracked stupid jokes, had that goofy smile and undyingly cheerful spirit and always a sassy remark on the tip of his tongue. He wasn't some historically powerful being… except… that Arthur could still see him in that hallway, singed from the grenade blast, eyes lit golden as he shielded Arthur, one hand thrown out, projecting a field of pure energy that shimmered around them. Truth be told, Arthur had seen it before—those fleeting moments of clarity and strength that showed as much in Merlin's set jaw and sharp eyes as in his personality—loyal and steady.
"I don't really know what to believe anymore," he said, shaking his head slightly. He was still reeling from the fact that Iseldir, his favorite college professor, was here watching him contend with the strangest, most difficult and painful days of his life to date. It was all beyond confusing, how the people around him had changed and stepped into different roles. "If that's Merlin, then what about me?"
"You and Merlin are believed to be the key to the peace we've been hoping for. You are a leader: voice among the common people who will help Emrys foster this truce. You cannot do what you were meant to do without one another."
"And how do you know I'm…. Emrys' counterpart?"Arthur challenged, stopping in the street outside Brigid's home.
"It was said that Emrys' counterpart would be born of magic, just as you were," Iseldir said. Arthur's throat tightened.
"You know about that too?" His fingers curled into a fist inside his pocket. His instinct had been right. Iseldir nodded.
"Your father solicited the help of Nimueh Hierea. She was a very powerful sorceress. The magic used to bring you into this world was unheard of."
"Then I was a mistake," Arthur said.
"You were not a mistake," Iseldir replied firmly. "Nimueh used forces she did not understand. But you were very much wanted." He looked towards the porch, following Arthur's gaze. "Have you made peace with Emrys?"
"We were never fighting," Arthur said hollowly. Peace wasn't the issue. He felt more lost, like a huge part of his life had been an illusion.
"As you say," Iseldir turned to go. " I will come back in an hour. Gaius should be back to discuss reinstating the negotiations by then." Arthur nodded faintly.
"I'll be here," he said. He wanted news on Gwen, Elyan, Lance, Percival, and many others… but for now, the negotiations were most important. Establishing secure alliances with the Druid representatives would be the best protection for all of them moving forward.
"Planning to make a habit of this, Pendragon?" Brigid asked as let him inside.
"Hopefully not," he said. He owed her a lot by now. He couldn't have imagined the woman he met as a young teen on an illicit night-time mission to save Merlin would come back into his life in such a significant way. Nor had he expected to see Mordred again. Yet so many of the pieces of his childhood growing up with Merlin were coming full circle to him as an adult.
"Your friend is through here." Brigid indicated the first door in the hallway.
"He's—" Arthur stopped himself abruptly. Not his friend? Who was Leon if not a friend? Leon had long since stopped being his bodyguard. He had been assigned by Uther after all. He'd stood by Arthur through hellfire and risked his life several times. He nodded. "Of course… Thank you. I appreciate your looking after him. If there's anything I can do when all this is over, I won't forget it." She raised an eyebrow as her young ward appeared in the hallway.
"We'll see," she said mildly. He couldn't say it surprised him to see the suspicion in her eyes. He wasn't fully trusted by everyone here.
"Mordred." He mustered a small smile for the teenager who had his arms crossed and his shoulders hunched. He'd been far too tangled up in all this already, from Morgana using him to that nightmarish rainstorm where he'd tried to help Arthur. He must have seen Gwaine. He was far too young to have seen all of that. According to Merlin, though, Mordred had seen far worse than that, having lost his entire family to the Purge. "Are you alright?" Arthur ventured. Mordred gave a jerky nod in response.
"How is Merlin?" he asked.
"He's… alright." The hesitation didn't seem to escape Mordred, who looked the more dejected. Arthur caught a sharp look from Brigid. He took a breath. "Merlin only caught a few scrapes. He's up and about. I'm sure you'd be welcome to stop by and see him."
"I'm sorry about your friend…" Arthur stopped with his hand on the doorframe. "He must have been close, to have come with you here last time, to help Merlin." Arthur bit the inside of his cheek, taking a small breath in through his nose. He hadn't been able to shake the images of Gwaine in the last few days. What must it have been like for the teenager.
"You did what you could to help. We really appreciate it," he said. Brigid beckoned to Mordred.
"He'll be here to talk after," she said. He was a touch relieved as she gently ushered Mordred away. Mordred was rattled, justifiably, from what had happened, but Arthur didn't feel equipped to support the teenager just now.
He stepped into the first bedroom, knocking gently at the door frame.
"Hey." Leon stirred. His head was wrapped up, including one eye covered with gauze. The other eye squinted as Leon turned his head to spot him and a smile tugged at his lips. "Don't get up." He extended a hand. Leon shifted himself halfway to sitting anyway.
"Been flat on my back for the better part of this week," Leon said, grimacing. Arthur sank into the chair next to the bed with a grunt. His ribs were still killing him, but he'd wanted to see for himself that Leon was alive and well.
"How're you feeling?" Arthur settled into the chair by the bed, letting his body relax cautiously. Leon smiled at him and tapped the side of his head.
"Been better," he said. "And yourself?"
"Rough couple of months," Arthur said with a shrug.
"You can say that again." Leon tipped his head back. "It's good to see you, Arthur." He said. "I heard about Gwaine. I'm so sorry." Arthur closed his eyes for a moment. He hadn't gotten those images out of his head. He wondered if he'd ever be able to lie down to rest without hearing the raw pain and grief in Merlin's voice, feel that same desperation in his chest as he pleaded with Gaius to do something. Gwaine had been so vibrant and full of life. He still couldn't wrap his head around the idea that the body on the ground had really been him, that Gwaine wouldn't come strolling back into the house at any minute looking for them, with a jibe about how they'd left him behind.
"Yeah," was all he managed to say. He inhaled through his nose and opened his eyes. He couldn't escape the reminders anywhere. It had been several days now. The international channels, online news sites, and broadcasts were lighting up with the reports of Gwaine's death, and Arthur couldn't even look at the pictures, obituaries, and stories.
"Are you alright?" Leon asked. Arthur made a weak noise like a huff of laughter.
"I've been better. Breathing hurts. Everything sorta fell apart. We're back here now." He shook his head. "I don't know." Leon's brows drew together.
"I saw Iseldir again—your professor. The one who helped me after the dragon's attack."
"You would see him here." Arthur pursed his lips. "Leon, he's a Druid. This is a community of sorcerers. That's… where you were brought to recover. Most of them came here to escape after they were suspected of magic." He looked back at Leon, searching for some sign of shock, but there was little.
"Iseldir Leod… was he involved in the situation with the dragon's attack?" Leon asked. Arthur laced his fingers together over one knee, frowning.
"He was… and another sorcerer who came from here. I asked for their help."
"And you've known about them all this time?" Leon asked. Arthur nodded slightly, avoiding eye contact with his companion.
"I came here with the agreement I wouldn't reveal their location to anyone else, in exchange for their help with the dragon."
"That's how you had their trust in starting the negotiations," Leon inferred. He was looking at Arthur curiously. Arthur shifted.
"Yes… more or less," he said. "I didn't tell you before I left Oxford. I'm sorry. I didn't know how you'd react."
"Arthur." A small smile was tugging at Leon's lips. "They helped you stop the dragon and saved our lives this week. Don't apologize."
"I was supposed to wait for you… to stay safe." Leon shook his head.
"I've hardly done anything to keep you safe in the past months. I was supposed to bring in a full contingent for your security, but you were gone before I ever could. Protecting you…? That's been well beyond my abilities for some time now. Someone else has been protecting you. And considering magic is tied into your safe escape from these situations, it seems like you've been making the right choices."
"You're telling me I should trust magic?" Arthur gave him a baffled look. "You were a member of the Patroni. It was your job not to trust magic."
"For most of that time, my job was to protect you," Leon answered. He gave Arthur a lingering look. "What really happened that day in Oxford?" Arthur's eyes traveled down to the scarring at Leon's collar and he took a breath.
"We found the sorcerer who had a bond with the dragon. He stopped it. And… he helped take care of your injuries. He and Iseldir."
"So magic has saved my life twice," Leon concluded. Arthur glanced up towards the window. He could hear the voices of the kids outside, see Hunith crossing the grass heading for the house where Merlin was staying. He bit his lip.
"I think it's saved mine more times than that," he said.
"You put your trust in these people, and they haven't proven it unfounded. There have been no further attacks from the dragon," Leon continued. Arthur nodded haltingly. "There you have it. Times change. People are complicated. You've followed your gut, and you haven't been wrong about them yet," he pointed out. "I think my job may not be needed anymore."
"I'll still want you around." Arthur smiled apologetically. Leon chuckled.
"I'll be here. But I heard the negotiations were being rescheduled. You'll have a better escort than me this time, won't you?" Arthur nodded.
"Gaius and Iseldir are reestablishing contact with the other Druids. They're working on secure communications and travel routes."
"So you're reconnecting with General Rodor and Mithian then."
"If I can get the all-clear." He nodded. "We've been able to make contact with Mithian. They want to keep the meeting site but wait until they've established a safer way to get there and avoid anyone intercepting us en route. I'll wait here, and when the time comes Iseldir will escort me to the meeting."
"You and Merlin," Leon tacked the statement on as if it were obvious. Arthur went quiet. His fingers fidgeted with the fabric of his borrowed sweatpants.
"I don't know about that."
"Don't you?" Leon turned his head.
"You didn't hear that part… did you?" Arthur reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. A pause followed. Leon was watching him curiously. "Merlin's a sorcerer," he said. His chest ached, and not because of the injuries, but… he hadn't really realized how heavy that revelation felt until he spoke it aloud to another person. Merlin. His childhood friend, his closest confidante. He'd wanted so badly to tell Gwen, to talk to Gwaine or Lance or any of his other friends—but the thought ground to a sharp halt. Leon was laughing. His eyes shifted to his former bodyguard's face, and he opened his mouth, his brows knitting in a frown. "Sorry, is that funny?"
"No… Arthur." Leon's hand turned over and gripped his wrist gently. "It's not funny. It's obvious," he said.
"You knew?" Arthur would've gotten up if his ribs weren't throbbing. He set his jaw and took a slow, thin breath. "Does everyone know? Am I the last to find out?" Leon shook his head fractionally.
"I didn't know. I guessed. That's not the point. Arthur." He squeezed Arthur's wrist. "Think about it. Merlin's always been different." He couldn't argue with that, but different in this way? Arthur blew out a soft breath. "So you know he has magic now. Does that change anything about who he is?" Leon pressed him. Arthur gritted his teeth.
"How can it not?" he demanded.
"I don't think it does." Leon shook his head. "I worked in Uther's personal security detail for some time before he assigned me as your bodyguard. I've known you since you were twelve years old. People didn't get close to you, whether you didn't let them, or they didn't dare be too close to Uther's son. You were a lonely kid. Until Merlin." Arthur pursed his lips. He remembered well enough, but…
"We weren't exactly friends at first," he pointed out dryly. Leon chuckled.
"Not in name, but he challenged you in ways I don't think you realized you needed. Before Merlin, you and Morgana were at each other's throats. You never spoke to Gwen. You didn't really have a friend group. You had followers. Merlin wasn't a follower, and he didn't put up with you or keep quiet when he thought you were wrong. He gave as good as he got when you two butted heads." Arthur turned his eyes towards the window, quiet. He and Merlin had gotten off to a rocky start, but if he was honest, he'd always respected the sharp-tongued bright-eyed boy who crashed into his life at twelve years old.
"He was a pain in the ass," he protested.
"So were you."
"Hey!" He turned back to Leon with a protesting frown, but Leon was smiling slightly.
"Are you going to try and deny it?" he asked. Arthur pulled a face and looked down at his knees. "I'm the one who had to chase you all over the place, and you were constantly trying to give me the slip. You had one hell of an ego and an attitude to boot." Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"Thanks…?" He said slowly, making a face. Leon chuckled and patted his arm.
"You grew up with a lot of privilege, Arthur. Uther kept you fairly isolated and protected, and every opportunity in the country was at your fingertips. You would've been hard pressed not to let it go to your head a little. The one thing that didn't come easy to you was friendships. God knows you could be a chore, but I could see you were lonely, and you had a good heart under all that. I knew it was there. When Merlin showed up, you finally had someone who was honest with you, and he brought that better side out. The two of you acted like you were always at odds, but you two were inseparable within the first year after he came to live with Gaius. I think you found a source of courage from watching Merlin's unflinching honesty. You started standing up to Uther. You developed your own ideas about your future. When the travel bans kept Merlin from going home to his mother, you made sure he felt welcome and included with you. And when his mum invited you… I couldn't believe the fight you put up to go back to Ireland with Merlin over the summer. It was the first time you really dug your heels in for what you wanted against what Uther had planned for you." He lifted his shoulders slightly.
"I needed to get out of the house. Living with him and Morgana was like being on a constant battlefield."
"Hunith's home was good for you," Leon agreed. "But that's exactly my point. Merlin, his family—they were good for you. You grew more independent, kinder, more thoughtful through the influence. With Merlin around, you wrestled ideas and problems you brushed aside before. You grew as a person." Arthur's lips drew in a thin line. He looked back up at Leon.
"But he was lying to me the whole time," he pointed out stiffly.
"Was he?" Leon asked.
"How was he not?" Arthur demanded.
"Did you ever ask him if he had magic?" Leon responded. Arthur opened his mouth, but no answer was on the tip of his tongue. Had he? He'd never come out and asked Merlin. Why would he? "Arthur, your safety has been the greater part of my career, and it hasn't been an easy job. But at nearly every turn, Merlin has been a step ahead of me. He saved your life when you two were teenagers. He was there when you got in a scrap at that bar. He was the first one there when you came down with meningitis. He had your back when everything fell apart this last month."
"I know that—"
"And the dragon." Arthur stopped when Leon added those words. The dragon. How could he forget? "You may not be able to answer this question, but I'm absolutely certain that your friend from the Druids didn't act alone. Which of us was left conscious when that dragon attacked? Do you really think Merlin wasn't a part of that?" he asked. Arthur closed his mouth and shook his head slightly. Merlin had told him the story yesterday, and the pieces had fallen into place with an ease that shocked him. The way Iseldir had reacted to Merlin, it had been as if he was meeting a revered figure, not another university student; how Gaius had told him about Balinor, his father, only hours before, and how that had made it possible for him to sway the man who was so against helping Arthur. But it was more than that. Merlin's jumpy anxiety sometimes simply faded away, and he was steady, clear-headed, and confident. The Druids responded to him with a respect Arthur had never understood—a deference even. And a memory that Arthur had never been able to reconcile came to the forefront of his mind: the dragon's looming figure in Arthur's swimming vision, and Merlin, standing in front of him with a hand extended, fearless. Leon didn't know all the facts in that scenario, but he was still right.
"Merlin stopped the dragon," he said slowly. It had never been Arthur who made that possible. His plea to Balinor had been useless. And perhaps, Balinor hadn't even acted alone. It had been Merlin who was responsible for saving them from the dragon.
"He's got your back," Leon said quietly. "So he didn't tell you he could use magic. He didn't owe you that truth. No one owes you their trust. No one owes you the details about their life. You have to earn that. And as unfair as it is, you were at a disadvantage, given your family background." Arthur looked down, shoulders hunched up towards his ears.
"I thought after all this time, he'd know I wasn't like my father," he said. "I've tried so damn hard to move past that. I thought… of all people, Merlin would know and see that. I thought at least he would trust me."
"I doubt he would be as loyal a friend to you if he didn't," Leon said. "But he's spent a lifetime keeping that part of himself hidden. That's not an easy habit to break. I worked with the Patroni. We were trained to investigate people's connections once they were found guilty of sorcery. Merlin had to know that. He was protecting not only himself but also everyone he loved by keeping it quiet. Think about Hunith. She and Merlin are clearly very close."
"She's here right now," Arthur confirmed. Leon raised an eyebrow. "Long story," Arthur said with a shrug.
"Didn't imagine that I had it all figured out." Leon replied. Arthur traced along the threads of the sheet under his hands in silence for a moment.
"Do you think I didn't deserve trust from him?" he asked.
"I didn't say that." Leon shifted, and his fingers tapped against the back of Arthur's hand. "Arthur." He looked up. "I'm proud to have stayed and protected you as long as I did. I've been incredibly proud to see the man you grew to be. I had the pleasure of seeing Gwen and Merlin grow up alongside you as your closest friends, and I saw the way you listened and allowed them to change you for the better. My judgment isn't perfect, but I'll dare say I knew you and them very well. There has never been any doubt in my mind that both of them have your best interests at heart. Sorcerer or not, that hasn't changed about Merlin. His friendship with you is and was as genuine as any I've ever seen. The fact that he didn't tell you… I don't think it means he didn't trust you." And come to that, Arthur didn't either. So why was he still so stung? He let out a weary sigh.
"I can't look at him the same way again," he said.
"So don't. You shouldn't," Leon responded. "You can start to see a new side of him. He's complicated. But he's still your friend. And I'd guess he's done a lot more for you than you can even imagine." Leon looked steadily back at his stubborn frown. "Some things about you really haven't changed, have they?" he said with a little shake of his head. "It bothers you. I get it. A lot of people have changed their colors on you. I'm sorry for the way Morgana has turned on you above all. But Arthur, for what it's worth, I don't think Merlin's intentions have changed like hers did." Arthur nodded, closing his eyes as he listened. Leon knew Merlin about as well as anyone close to him.
"So what should I do?" he asked quietly as he turned his gaze on Leon again.
"You want my advice?" Leon asked. He nodded. "Then my advice would be this: swallow your pride. Try to understand where he's coming from. And please… take Merlin with you to the negotiations. I'd trust him with my life any day. I've trusted him with yours for a long time."
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Waiting was torture, but there was nothing else to do. Wait for Gaius to return. Wait for news about Mithian, the coalition, and the Druid representatives. Wait for Cenred, Morgause, Ruadan, and Alvarr to make a move. Wait for any news of Gwen, Elyan, or any of the others. Wait for Arthur to decide what he thought of the story he'd heard the day before. Wait, dragging out his time in the stifling quiet of Dartmoor, wondering if this moment of calm too would be pierced by crisis.
The waiting wasn't alone, at least. He hadn't seen Aithusa since their nightmare just outside Dartmoor, in the thick of a heavy storm. He was a little relieved to see her now as she circled above the rooftops, winding her way down towards them, still comfortably small enough to sit in the yard.
"You and Aithusa weren't hurt at all?" Merlin reached up to touch Freya's hand. She stopped in the grass beside him as Aithusa soared down to land a few feet away.
"No. Once we located you, we were in and out of the conflict very quickly. Aithusa and I brought you and Arthur here, then we went back for Leon."
"She heard me." He extended a hand, watching as the dragon approached to brush her nose against it. She circled him, brushing up against him and investigating quietly for injury.
"We both did." Freya smiled at her. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I really thought I was leaving the country. I didn't want to tear you away from everyone you knew." He slipped a hand into hers, leaning against her shoulder.
"I'm just glad you were here. I don't know what I would have done without you."
"I'm glad I stayed." Freya brushed her thumb over his knuckles. "I was ready to go when she showed up." Aithusa had turned away to wander in the grass near them, her head low to the ground and tail swishing inquisitively.
"It's nice to know I'm not the only one." Merlin reached out to slip his hand into hers. It was for the best after all that he wasn't the only one with the 'dragon lord' heritage in England. He closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy the soft breeze, the cool, gentle weather that had followed the storms of recent days. He felt exhausted from it all. "Freya, I think… I think I may have killed some of the people… back in that fight." Her fingers squeezed tight around his hand.
"They had firearms. It was self defense," she reminded him. He nodded mutely. Freya understood. He knew she did. He hadn't fully understood her perhaps… as much as he'd thought he did. He closed his eyes and tipped his head against her shoulder. The men he'd attacked… Perhaps he didn't need to feel such deep regret. They were the reason Gwaine wasn't here with them. That still sat like a cold rock in his gut. She didn't try to offer any further reassurance, but rather gently freed her hand and wrapped an arm around him. He let himself lean into the support, listening to the soft sound of Aithusa rustling the grass nearby. For the moment, with Freya's warm support, he could breathe again.
A gentle mental nudge from Aithusa preceded Freya's words.
"We've got company." He opened his eyes wearily. He tried not to groan when he spotted a familiar figure approaching from the house to their left. He groaned.
"Do I have to…?" Arthur wouldn't bring the calm, peaceful atmosphere he felt sitting with Freya.
"It might not be bad," she squeezed his shoulder. "He listened yesterday, didn't he?" Merlin heaved a sigh. Arthur had listened to him yesterday. He'd listened as Merlin explained his childhood in Armagh, how he'd been sent to Gaius to learn to control his magic. He'd talked a little about the dragon, about his choice to use his magic to protect Arthur, and much of what happened in their childhood, through their move to Oxford and the events of the last couple of months. It had hardly been the whole story, but he'd tried.
"He did. He still felt that I'd lied to him," he said. Freya hummed a soft acknowledgement.
"He's stubborn, isn't he?" That got a little snort of laughter out of Merlin.
"You don't know half of it," he said. Freya leaned over to kiss his cheek.
"If he continues to be a pain in the arse, you let me know. I'll tell Aithusa to eat him," she said. Merlin raised an eyebrow.
"Aithusa doesn't eat people."
"He doesn't know that." Freya winked, and he laughed as she got up.
"I'll let you know," he said as she headed for the porch, leaving him alone in the grass with the little dragon. He turned his hand over again and reached it out to Aithusa who came closer, her tail swishing low like she might pounce on it.
Merlin didn't turn his head when Arthur reached him, waiting as the blond slowly settled himself in the grass nearby. There was a long, pregnant pause between them. Merlin held very still, watching the sunlight reflect in a myriad of colors off Aithusa's translucent scales. She was regarding Arthur with curiosity, not yet heading for him.
"Is this another friend of yours?" Arthur asked finally. As he spoke, Aithusa made her decision. Merlin felt a jolt of anxiety as the dragon walked right over to Arthur and stretched out her nose to sniff at his hand, much like a curious cat. To Merlin's surprise, Arthur extended his hand to meet her halfway. Some of the anxiety knotted up in his stomach relaxed. There had been no barb to Arthur's question. He took a breath.
"Yeah. Her name's Aithusa," he said.
"Aithusa. Hello there." Arthur turned his hand palm-up, and the dragon butted her head against it, encouraging him. His fingers stroked down over her neck and back. "She's beautiful," he said. Merlin blinked. He didn't really know what to say. This had never been in his realm of possibilities. He'd wanted so badly to believe, but he'd never dared to let himself imagine a moment like this. Aithusa stepped onto Arthur's knee with both front feet, and Merlin all but held his breath when she brushed her nose against Arthur's ribs. For a split second Arthur looked startled, sucked in a sharp breath, and Merlin felt the anxiety clench in his chest and gut again. Then recognition crossed Arthur's face, and he seemed to relax.
"She…" He hesitated. "She has healing magic," he explained. He remembered how she'd offered some healing to his injured leg. It eased the pain and knitted the body together a little faster, gentler. Arthur was looking down at her as she leaned lightly against him.
"I owe you an apology," he said. Merlin blinked at him.
"I—I'm sorry…?" he stammered.
"I didn't say you owed an apology, you idiot," Arthur huffed. The familiar insult made some of the tension and confusion fade from his expression.
"No. I know. But did you really…? Could you repeat—"
"Don't make me say it again." Arthur rolled his eyes, and despite himself, a small but hopeful smile tugged at Merlin's lips. Aithusa, her curiosity satisfied, was returning to Merlin's side.
"No—I wouldn't dream of it. You hadn't really started." Arthur gave him a flat look as the dragon climbed halfway into Merlin's lap to settle down against him. There was another lingering pause.
"Iseldir says the negotiations are being rescheduled in two weeks," he said. "Mithian is already under his protection. The Druids want me there." Merlin pursed his lips and reached out to touch Aithusa's tail as it brushed his knee.
"That's good," he said. So Arthur was changing the subject. He sort of expected that.
"You should be there too," Arthur said. Oh.
"You don't have to say that."
"I do," Arthur said. Merlin looked up again slowly. "It was never only me they wanted at that meeting. We both know that." Arthur's expression was tight.
"Right…" They wanted Emrys. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He took a cautious breath, and Aithusa lifted her head to peer up at him as well.
"I've been thinking about what happened in Oxford." Merlin clenched his jaw. His fingers reached for the ends of his scarf and found them gone again, leaving his fingers to reach down into the grass, restlessly tugging at a blade or two.
"It was my fault," he said abruptly. "The fires that started everything. The dragon."
"What…?" Arthur stared at him. "Back up. What's your fault…? What does that have to do with—" He shook his head. "I was going to ask about the part before that, when I got sick." Merlin looked back at him, uneasy. The story of his choice to use magic to save Arthur had led down some dark paths—things he'd done that, as Gaius put it, made him not sleep so well at night. "You asked me a while ago what I would do if I learned someone had healed me with magic," Arthur said. Merlin's fingers stroked down over Airhusa's back as he avoided eye contact. "The doctor said that my recovery was 'miraculous'. Was that you too?"
"I helped," Merlin said quietly.
"But you left that out yesterday," Arthur pointed out. Merlin nodded. He hadn't wanted to get into this part.
"Because it was complicated, and I didn't act alone. Kilgharrah helped me with your illness." He closed his eyes and took a breath. Aithusa's presence was a little calming. He would've had to tell Arthur sooner or later. But for a tiny, brilliant moment as Arthur offered an apology, he'd thought maybe things could be repaired a little. Surely… this would make things worse. But he had promised the truth. He swallowed. "You'd been cursed. By the same sorceress who attacked us the day Lance and Percival came onto the military base."
"Nimueh. The one you killed," Arthur said. Merlin winced.
"That one," he confirmed quietly. "She tried to kill you. I think she must have poisoned your drink, or something like that. I missed what she did to you, but I think it happened at the bar in Oxford. There was nothing Gaius could do, so I went to speak to the dragon."
"Kilgharrah," Arthur repeated. "And you knew where to find him." Merlin's fingers tugged at a piece of grass restlessly, avoiding eye contact.
"Like I told you, he used to speak to me in my mind when we lived in London. Some magic users have telepathy, and the dragons can reach them. It's just… there. I didn't ever try to do it. So I'd known for years that your father kept him bound in enchanted chains in a holding cell outside the city. I'd never been there, but he'd told me so." His shoulders were hunched. He took a slow breath through his nose. "He gave me the spell to cure you… in exchange for his freedom." He looked up. Arthur frowned at him.
"Why didn't you free him sooner?" He asked. Merlin laughed weakly.
"I wasn't skilled enough. I first learned about him at thirteen. I didn't really know what I was getting into. So many things happened when I first came to Oxford. Then Mordred showed up, and the dragon tried to use him. He was talking an eight year old boy into becoming an assassin, so he could take out Uther. I stopped trusting him for a long time after that. Mordred was so scared and confused. I couldn't reconcile with that." Arthur was watching him keenly. He had listened to the whole story about Mordred in silence the day before.
"But you freed him later in exchange for his help."
"I thought you were going to die if I didn't. I had expected he'd fly away, somewhere safe. I didn't know…" Merlin's throat was tight. He blinked a couple times, though it didn't really help. "I didn't know, Arthur… I swear, I didn't know what he would do. At the time everything… everything was falling apart. Morgana had told me about her connections with Morgause Fox, so I was trying to talk her out of it. Freya was certain she couldn't stay in the country, and I wanted to help her, and then you… You were dying, and I couldn't think past the next thing. I did what I thought was right, and it turned out all wrong. Morgana turned her back on us, and Freya was gone, and so many people died—"
"Merlin." Arthur cut him short. Merlin's fingers were dug deep in the grass, and he looked up, trying to gulp down a breath. He could feel his heart hammering all too hard in his chest. "You didn't know all that would happen," Arthur said. The words seemed to be stuck in Merlin's throat all of a sudden. He stared back at Arthur in confusion. Arthur seemed to have him pinned in place, watching with a silent, scrutinizing gaze. "This… all this. It's a lot for me," he said finally. I know… I know, I'm sorry. He'd never meant for it to come out this way, but if he was honest, he'd never really planned a way for it to come out. "But," Arthur started again. "I now know a lot of what's happened… what you've been going through all this time, from growing up together to the last two months. You've been working in the background. You've protected me. You may even have protected my father, and god knows he didn't deserve that of you."
"I… It wasn't…" Merlin stammered. "It was only because I knew that Morgana would be blamed, and I thought he owed you an explanation. I'm sorry. I tried—"
"Don't." Arthur held up a hand, and Merlin closed his mouth again. He let go of the grass and drew his knees up to wrap his arms around them. The silence that followed allowed him to gather himself a little and take a steadying breath.
"I've been thinking," Arthur said at last. Merlin mustered a weak smile.
"Isn't that dangerous for you?" The question earned him an eye roll.
"I'm serious." Arthur rested his hands on his knees, looking over at the little dragon leaning up against Merlin's knees to get attention. He brushed his fingers against the side of her head. "The day I left Dartmoor with Gwaine, I talked to Morgana. I tried to apologize. I told her how much my father had wronged her, and how I had wronged her by allowing it. I told her I wanted to try and make things right. But all of that, I think it came too late for her. Now Gwaine is gone. I don't know what's going to happen—to me, or you, or anyone. But I know I don't want to make the same mistake with you as I did with Morgana." Merlin frowned, eyes downcast still.
"I wouldn't make the choices she made," he said quietly. Gwaine's loss still cut too deeply. He wasn't ready to start talking about it. He could still see the look in Gwaine's eyes as he expressed awestruck approval of Merlin's magic—so quick, so willing to accept him for who he was. Then he was gone. Arthur shook his head.
"But you'd have just as much reason as her to turn your back on me. What Balinor said when I first met him… it's all true," he said. Merlin looked up slowly. "I was raised and taught to believe that sorcery was inherently bad—that it had to be eliminated from the country for our own safety." He took a breath. "It wasn't until you moved into our neighborhood that I started to see another side of the story. When I met Brigid, and she was hunted down for offering a cure to help you, that felt wrong. When we helped Mordred, I saw the face of one of the people my father would have executed, and I realized you and Morgana would have hidden him from me… That felt wrong too. The two of you, my sister and one of my closest friends, thought I would have sided with my father and let a child be taken into custody for something over which he seemed to have no control. I tried to find a way to make those different perspectives make sense. I tried to justify my father's actions and beliefs, so I didn't have to choose between him and Morgana. It got harder when Morgana took the extreme path and started to attend the amnesty demonstrations and openly speak out against my father's policies. My father pitted himself against her, and there was never any peace in the household, even after we moved out for school. in all that time… the only peace I had was when I was allowed to go to your home." There was a look in his eyes as Merlin glanced up—guilt. He furrowed his brow.
"You were always welcome," he said. Arthur shook his head again.
"Your mum said the same thing. I don't understand why she welcomed me when she knew how my father felt about magic and how much of that I inherited." Merlin shrugged.
"She likes you," he said. That was an easy answer. His mother cared a great deal about Arthur, and he was sure she'd seen how stressed Arthur was at home. She'd always extended a welcome to him when Merlin was coming home for a visit. Arthur looked up and away, still seemingly uncomfortable.
"Your mum's home and then our flat were the places where I found some peace, away from my father and Morgana," he admitted."And even there, I was always trying to run from both of them asking me to choose a side when they would reach out or visit. I kept trying to walk that line between them, but I'm starting to believe there was never a middle path," he said. "That I should have found the guts to support Morgana and choose what I had felt for a long time was right, over my need to believe there was something redeeming in my father and his choices about magic. I had my doubts, but I kept second guessing." He paused and looked up at Merlin. "When we met Balinor, it became impossible to ignore. The things he said about men being rounded up, their families hunted down…" he shook his head slightly. "Merlin, you could have had your father growing up. You could have been raised in a safe home where your heritage wasn't a deadly secret. My father is the reason you didn't have yours in your life. His policies are why you grew up in fear and why your best friend was killed when you were a child."
"Arthur—" he started to interrupt. Arthur cut him short.
"Merlin, why do you want to blame yourself for all of this so badly?" The question left Merlin speechless. Wasn't it obvious…? He'd failed to protect Arthur, failed to protect Lance, Gwen, and now Gwaine. He swallowed.
"The… the dragon. I freed him. He caused this," he managed. Arthur shook his head.
"You want to accept the fall for all this, say it's your fault, but it's not that simple," Arthur insisted. "So you set the dragon free." Merlin nodded mutely. "He shouldn't have been imprisoned in the first place. What happened with the dragon, all the damage he caused, all the guilt you've been carrying—that weight doesn't belong to you." Merlin blinked and opened his mouth.
"But I—"
"It belongs with my father," Arthur said firmly. "It belongs with the mistakes made by generations before us; the violence that the Pure brought on this country, and the retribution from my father that did as much damage again. My father was the one who incurred the dragon's anger. He killed countless people and made enemies for himself in the name of this country. And… Kilgharrah—this dragon—he responded in kind. Maybe you miscalculated. Maybe you made mistakes. But you didn't cause those deaths. Everything else that followed wasn't under your control. Morgana's resentment was so much bigger than your part in this. And Freya's choice to leave had to do with an entire country where she was unsafe. You only did the best you could in a world where everything was stacked against you. And for all that, you've shown a lot more patience than I would have in your shoes," Arthur added. "You had every reason to hate me when we met, and for much of our childhood. I stood for all the wrong things when we met. Looking back, the number of times I said things that must have rattled you, echoed my father's broken belief system… I can't imagine how uncomfortable you must have been. It's taken me this long to even begin to see clearly. But for some reason, you stood by me. And more than that, you protected me. I doubt that I know even half of what you've done for me."
"It's not like that—"
"It is like that." Arthur gave him a pointed look, and Merlin slowly let his knees slide down as Aithusa shifted closer and rested her head on one of his legs. He put a hand on her side as Arthur resumed. "I can't pretend that this isn't going to change things. The last two months have been more than I've had time to think through. But I realize now that you've been going through a lot that I hardly even paid attention to. You've been here, looking out for me, and I've been too wrapped up in myself. I've been a miserable friend. So… I'm sorry." Merlin was quiet, watching Aithusa get up and stretch herself lazily. "And thank you," Arthur added. "For saving my life." Merlin blinked at him.
"An apology and a thank you?" A slow smile crept across his face. The knot of tension in his stomach was uncoiling. He felt like he could breathe again, even as Arthur's eyes narrowed at him. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked. "Did you get a concussion in that car wreck too?" Arthur shoved his shoulder with a little eye roll.
"Don't expect another one," he huffed. Merlin pulled up a piece of grass to twirl between his fingers.
"Oh, I'll treasure that one," he said, his smile fading slightly. Things were still going to change, but… "I'm sorry too," he added. "I never wanted to lie to you."
"Don't be." Arthur shifted, rubbing the back of his own neck. He looked a little restless. "You had every reason to keep that to yourself. I owed it to you to prove it was safe to tell me, and I guess I never really did that. I need some time to adjust. This isn't your fault."
"I should still have told you sooner." He shook his head slightly. "I trust you. I wanted to tell you. The right moment never presented itself." He started to roll the blade of grass between his fingers idly.
"Do you think you ever would have?" Arthur asked. He considered as he let the blade uncurl again, rumpled.
"I think… I was getting there." Just past his knees, Aithusa spread her wings and launched herself into the air, leaving the two of them alone in the grass. Arthur looked back at him.
"Will you come, then?"
"What?" Merlin frowned.
"Castlerigg. The negotiations," he prompted. Merlin drew his knees up again and wrapped his arms around them, hesitating, and Arthur shifted as he watched the dragon circling in the air above their heads. "I've been on the wrong side of this nearly my entire life," he said. "I know I've got no right to ask. But if you're willing… I could use some insight in setting things right. I think your voice in these negotiations is far more important than mine." Merlin stared at him. He hadn't set out to be important.
"Your name is attached to the social media campaigns," he pointed out. Arthur scoffed softly.
"That was dumb luck. This movement belongs to you—you and everyone else living here."
"I…" Merlin shrugged. "I don't know how I could help," he said.
"Yes you do." Arthur put a hand on Merlin's shoulder as he climbed slowly to his feet. "You're Merlin Emrys," he offered the hand up to Merlin who hesitated, looking up at him.
"I don't know if I believe in that prophecy," he admitted.
"You don't have to," Arthur said. "The Druids believe in you. Gwaine did too." Merlin swallowed.
"You're the one he cast his lot with publicly." Arthur huffed quietly.
"I'm pretty sure that in the balance, you're the one Gwaine was really betting on."
"Could've been both of us," Merlin pointed out. Gwaine had thrown in his lot with the both of them long before he knew Merlin had magic, or seen how Arthur grew as he learned the truth about his own heritage. Arthur lifted his shoulders before extending his hand, prompting Merlin again.
"Either way, you've been a part of this all along. You should be there. If you're willing to work with the son of Uther Pendragon, perhaps there's hope for the rest of them to rebuild trust." Merlin raised an eyebrow, then took the offered hand at last, climbing to his feet.
"I'm not working with Uther's son. I'm working with you."
"So you'll help?" Merlin looked up as Aithusa swooped low over their heads. He gripped Arthur's hand and nodded as a smile broke across his face, bright and earnest. The breath he took in that moment seemed to shed the last vestiges of the cold that had wrapped itself around his chest in his encounter with Morgause.
"Always," he said firmly. For Gwaine. For the rest of the Druids. They would try. "Let's finish this together."
The sun was dipping below the horizon as the two of them turned back towards the house, leaving Aithusa to circle over the rooftops freely.
"I know you've got magic, but that part about you being the most powerful warlock ever to walk the earth…" Arthur put an arm around Merlin's shoulders, pulling him closer in a playful jostle. "That's fanciful, right?"
"About as fanciful as the part where you're a great leader," Merlin snarked back, though he was grinning as he tried to squirm free of Arthur's arm on the way back to the steps of Freya's home.
Across the road from them, sitting in the grass beside the tall stones of the dolmen, Mordred was watching the white dragon disappear over the houses, tracing his fingers along the edge of the stone. He closed his eyes, reaching out to project his voice as far as he could, searching for a familiar presence.
Where are you…? Why won't you speak to me anymore?
When he sat beside the dolmen, he could feel the presences, hear the voices of sorcerers in the outer world, beyond Iseldir's wards and protections. Few of them responded to his nudges. Most sorcerers weren't sensitive to telepathic connection. The dragons were. Morgana was. But he hadn't heard her voice in a long time—not since she'd asked him to arrange the meeting with Arthur. Please… I know you didn't want this. Please talk to me.
The silence from the sea of minds left him feeling lost. He had felt her doubt as they spoke. He'd been sure she wanted to talk. Perhaps he'd been wrong. But he couldn't bring himself to believe that Morgana with her fierce protectiveness and sense of justice had wanted things to end this way. Perhaps he could simply speak to Emrys, tell him his suspicions.
Mordred closed his eyes and drew in a long, deep breath of the air, fresh and rich from the recent rains. He got to his feet, one hand on the dolmen, and looked up at the white dragon in the distance, but as he turned to go, he stopped, rooted in place by a soft voice.
Hello, Mordred.