Don't mind me, I'm just using this time to reference a couple of Merlin myths I like.

Mordred had just finished tying off the ribbon around a bouquet of wildflowers when a branch snapped behind him. He turned to see a large, dark shape slinking towards him. A low rumble filled the air as he caught sight of large fangs.

"Oh, hey Freya. The flowers are ready."

The bastet slipped out of the trees to nuzzle his cheek with a playful grumble before grabbing the dress folded next to him and slipping back into the bushes. A few moments later, Freya stepped back out of the trees as a human. "You got the red ones right?"

"And the purple," he said, showing her the bouquet. "Just as requested. How was it today?"

"Good." She took the flowers and looked them over with a smile. She reached out her hand and helped him to his feet so they could set off down the hill he was waiting atop. "I think I'm finally getting used to controlling it without relying on the bastet's instincts."

"That's great. I can't wait to see the look on Arthur's face."

She chuckled and nudged him with her hip.

They reached a burial site and Mordred let Freya drift ahead as she went to one grave in particular. She paused with a frown before she reached it.

"Freya?"

"Someone left flowers."

Mordred came to her side to see a bouquet similar to the one Mordred had prepared for her sitting on her parents' grave, though bundled with twine instead of the ribbon they'd brought from Camelot. "Maybe a friend of theirs from the village?"

"I guess so, but I thought all their friends had passed on or moved." She stepped forward to lay her own flowers next to the mystery bouquet. "I wonder why they haven't come to talk to me."

"It's been a while. Maybe they just don't recognize you anymore."

She shrugged and ran her fingers across the flowers. "Whoever it is, I'm glad someone's been visiting them."

Prince and warlock pulled their horses to a stop in a clearing just out of sight of Camelot.

"Why are we stopping here?"

Arthur swung off Llamrei and drew his sword. "We need to face the dragon where no one can see. Call him here."

"I don't know if I can."

"You heard what your father said."

Merlin slid off Hengroen. "I've never done this before, Arthur. I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to stand up to him."

"That's what you said about the griffin."

"Yes, but -"

"And what did I tell you then?"

"That if I can slow time then that should be easy."

"Exactly." Arthur slapped his back. "And you were even born for this."

"Arthur -"

"Just do it, Merlin."

"I'll try," he sighed and turned to the clearing.

Arthur rolled his eyes and shoved him. "Don't try. You're terrible at trying, like most other things. Just relax and let your instincts take hold."

The warlock gave him a look, but stepped forward. He closed his eyes and reached within himself.

In the evening light, he felt the presences of Arthur and the horses, and he felt the presence of one other.

"Do it, Merlin."

Merlin opened his eyes and roared, "Dracan! Nán dyd ǽlc áciere miss! Eftsíðas eom ála cræt! Géate' stǽr ábære gárrǽs! Géate cyre. Mé tácen átende diegollice. Car grise áþes."

A second roar answered him and a moment later Kilgharrah flew into the clearing, landing in front of the two. The dragon lowered itself and curled into a bow, it's body drooping as if bearing a heavy weight.

Arthur stepped in front of Merlin, raising his sword.

"His heart's on the right, not left," Merlin whispered.

"I am the last of my kind, Merlin," Kilgharrah said as Arthur approached. "Whatever wrongs I have done, do not make me responsible for the death of my noble breed."

"It is not Merlin you need to atone to."

"And yet it is his power holding me here."

"Arthur is my prince," Merlin said. "It is his kingdom you attacked, his people you've hurt, so it is he you have to answer to."

Kilgharrah turned to Arthur. "Your father's men have ended the lives of all the great dragons of old. Will you finish his work?"

"After what you've done, it's only right to execute you."

"Have I not paid. More than twenty years I was imprisoned in that cave while innocent."

"And that makes it right to hurt all those innocent people?"

"Surely you can understand my rage and grief. Can understand why I would lash out at your father in any way I could."

"Not at the expense of my people!"

Kilgharrah lowered back into a bow. "I am at My Lord's mercy, My King. And he is at yours. Do with me as you will, but please, consider my side. And my connection to the young warlock. We are kin, after all."

Arthur's grip tightened on his sword. "Enough. No more of your manipulations."

Kilgharrah opened his mouth to speak and Merlin yelled, "Silence!"

The dragon's mouth snapped closed.

Arthur glared at the ground before raising his sword to point at Kilgharrah's face. "You will leave Camelot at once. You will only return if Merlin calls for you and you will leave again after. If you ever return to stay again without my blessing or if you ever take another innocent life, your life will be mine. You will spend the rest of my life serving the kingdom you have ravaged. Only once I have passed will your service be complete. One lifetime to atone for the many you ended in your futile quest for vengeance. Am I understood?"

Kilgharrah bowed further. "It is as you say, My King."

Arthur planted his sword in the ground. "Then go, I have shown you a mercy I'm not sure you deserve. Leave before I change my mind."

"My King, what you have shown is what you will be. I will not forget your clemency. I'm sure our paths will cross again."

The dragon spread his wings and took to the air, heading away from Camelot.

Arthur watched him until a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned to see Merlin watching him.

"Did I make a mistake?"

"No, sire, I don't think you did."

"He killed so many people."

"As did your father. It doesn't make you wrong to want to end the bloodshed. As Kilgharrah said, it makes you what you will one day be: A great king."

Arthur snorted and pushed him away. "The Once and Future King."

"Exactly," Merlin chirped, though his usual dopey smile was tainted by sadness. "Besides, it's not like Kilgharrah will be able to attack again. If he does, we can put a stop to it."

"Oh, now you're confident," Arthur joked and slung an arm over his shoulders.

Sadness didn't suit Merlin.

Merlin shrugged. "It wasn't as hard as I'd thought it'd be."

Arthur grabbed his sword and turned them to the horses. "So once again, you were just being a girl about it."

"At least I wasn't a prat," Merlin tossed back.

Arthur paused before entering the chamber he knew his father waited in. "You're dismissed, Merlin."

"What?"

Arthur checked to make sure they were alone before saying in a lowered voice, "I need to inform my father about what happened, including your father's death. I doubt he'll have any kind words to say and you don't deserve to hear them. Take the rest of the day off. In fact, take a fortnight. Go to your mother. Mourn."

The warlock stared at him before his eyes went soft and he gave a deep bow. "Thank you."

Arthur squeezed his shoulder. "If Freya and Mordred return before you, I'll send her to you."

Merlin glanced at the doorway before pulling Arthur into a hug. "Thank you, truly."

Arthur patted his back then pushed him away. "Yes, yes, now get off."

Quick as a whip, Merlin pressed a teary-eyed kiss to his cheek before darting down the hall.

Shock rolled over Arthur for a few moments until he was able to shake himself back into the present. He quickly went over the story he and Merlin had decided upon and strode through the doors.

Uther and his advisors rose to meet the prince.

"Father, I bring good news. The dragon will never bother us again."

"You found the Dragonlord?" Uther came around to grab his son's shoulder.

"Yes."

"Excellent." He glanced behind Arthur with a frown. "Where is he?"

"Dead." He saw Gaius bow his head. "We found him where we were told and we convinced him to help, but on our way to Camelot we were attacked by Cenred's men and the Dragonlord was injured in the fight. We were able to defeat the dragon just outside the city, but the wound was too severe and Balinor succumbed to his injuries."

"Then we are rid of two threats, that is great news indeed!"

Arthur didn't bother to hide his frown as Uther turned to the others, knowing everyone would assume it was just the tension that had settled between them over the past months.

"This calls for a feast."

"Perhaps we should hold off for a few days. Let the people clean up and mourn their dead first." And give Merlin time to get out of the city before people begin celebrating his father's death.

"Of course, you're right." Uther turned back to Arthur. "You've done well."

"Thank you, Father."

"Rise and shine!"

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur groaned.

"Not Merlin."

Arthur picked up his head to see Mordred standing in front of him.

"Why are you sleeping at your desk?"

Arthur blinked at the boy before sitting up straight. "When did you get back?" he yawned.

"Late last night. I told Morris I could take care of you on my own. Gwen told us what happened. Freya should be leaving soon, if she hasn't already."

Arthur nodded and pulled the breakfast plate Mordred had brought closer. "She's going on her own?"

"She'll be fine. Our month may not have been as eventful as yours, but a few things have happened."

"Such as?" Arthur asked, spearing a sausage.

"Freya can turn into the bastet on command."

"What?" Arthur shouted.

Mordred nodded, grabbing a roll and dropping into the chair Leon had been using the night before as they went over patrols. "Apparently the ritual only got rid of the bloodlust and midnight aspect of the curse. She's still a bastet, she just has control of it now. She can even tap into its strength without transforming."

"She's got magic?" Another one? Wonderful.

"No, she still doesn't have magic of her own. She's just a bastet. She can transform and mind-speak, but nothing else. Oh, and talk to cats."

"Well, that's… something."

Mordred nodded and looked down at the ground. "So Morgana's gone."

"Yes," Arthur sighed.

"And so is the dragon."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry we weren't here to help."

"There wasn't really anything you could have done," he said, shaking his head.

"Still," Mordred said before taking a bite of the roll. "So why were you asleep on your desk?"

The prince glared as he registered the theft. He grabbed at the roll, saying, "You've been spending too much time with Merlin."

"He said you don't care," he explained, holding it out of reach.

"He lied."

"He also said you'd say that."

"You've definitely been spending too much time with that idiot," Arthur snorted, sitting back.

"Why were you sleeping on -"

"Would you stop asking that?"

"Yes, sire," Mordred agreed. He nibbled on his bread for a few moments before leaning over to read a paper on Arthur's desk. "Why are you reading about the noble families? Didn't you have to memorize all this stuff ages ago."

"The current families, yes. But I'm looking at the old records for the families that no longer exist in our records."

"Why?"

"Something Merlin's father said to me. He said that my father erased the records of any noble families with magic. I'm trying to see if I can find them. Well, one of them in particular since I wouldn't be able to tell the ones that were erased from the ones that died out."

"Which one are you looking for?"

"The Ambrosius family."

"Why that one?"

"It's Merlin's."

Modred dropped the roll, which was quickly spirited away by Cavall. "What?"

"Merlin's father was Lord Ambrosius."

"You're kidding?" the boy said, standing up to get a better look at the papers.

"Not according to his father. Which is why I'm trying to look for his family. Hopefully, it will give some clue to finding the rest."

"Does Merlin know?"

"Not yet. I'll tell him once he gets back."

"Huh, so Merlin's a Lord. Lord Merlin. Lord Emrys."

Arthur smirked. "I will give you a gold coin if you greet him as Lord Emrys when he returns."

"You know he'd hate that."

"Exactly!"

Mordred shook his head. To himself, he muttered, "I still can't believe his father's a dragonlord. It's so different from the stories."

"Stories?"

He blushed and shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

Arthur took a bite of sausage and stared him down.

"It's just, there are stories of how Emrys would be born. Not like the stories of you and him, just imaginings. Emrys is meant to be powerful, so people have wondered how he would come about and…" He waved his hands nervously.

Powerful? That was a new one. Merlin did have a bit of power though so he supposed it made sense. "And what are these stories?"

"There are a ton. The ones I liked the most were that he was a changeling or a child of Annwn, usually King Arawn himself. Though the most well known by far was," Mordred blushed, "the, uh, one that said his father was a demonic presence."

"You-you think Merlin's half-demon?" Arthur snickered.

"No, the druids never even believed that myth," Mordred said quickly. "The ones I said before were more believed, or the idea that he was a god - one of our own or one from a distant land - given flesh to aid you in your quest. Even that he was magic itself in human form. The demon one just… got spread around a lot."

Arthur couldn't stop laughing. Merlin, a demon's son!

Arthur was eating lunch when Merlin stumbled in. He swallowed down his chicken then said, "You're finally back then?"

"You did give me a fortnight."

Before Arthur could respond, Mordred came in with Arthur's laundry. He immediately dropped into a bow. "Lord Emrys, Your Highness."

Arthur snorted as Melin gave the boy an annoyed look. He turned the look on Arthur. "Did you put him up to this?"

"Of course not," Arthur lied before openly handing Mordred a gold coin.

"Prat."

"I got you something, too," Arthur said, gesturing towards his wardrobe.

As he was already opening it to put away Arthur's clothes, Mordred reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a black cloak from the hidden compartment.

Merlin frowned when it was tossed to him. "This is my cloak."

"The shoulder, Merlin."

Merlin turned the cloak to look at the shoulder. The faded portion had been covered by a patch, a crest showing a pair of dragons, white and red, in flight.

"Well?"

"It's nice."

"It's your family's crest, your father's crest."

Merlin looked up at him. "My father."

Arthur nodded. "I found it in the old records. You can't wear it anywhere my father could see, but since that is your illegal activities cloak, I thought it would be fine."

"It's wonderful. Thank you." He ran his finger over the patch. "I never considered my father might have a family crest."

"It's typical for noble families."

"Noble?" he sputtered.

Arthur nodded. "He didn't tell you during your talking? Your father was descended from Aurelianus Ambrosius. According to the records, an ancestor of mine - Vortigern Pendragon - had tried to build a fort atop a hill, but its walls would fall every night. He was advised by a prophet that a young boy without a father would solve the problem and sent out his men to gather any who filled the description. He promised those that were brought before him reward if they could answer why his fort fell.

"None had an answer until a boy named Myrddin Ambrosius told him that the hill was over an underground pool that housed two fighting dragons. No one believed him until he not only led a group of knights down to the pool, but also tamed them so that the fort could be built. As a reward, Vortigern took him in as his ward, renaming him Aurelianus Ambrosius." Arthur smirked. "It seems your family has a habit of worming their way into royal households."

"It's a gift," Merlin chuckled. "So he became nobility?"

"When Aurelianus was older, he led the dragons into battle in the name of Camelot so Vortigern made him a lord and gifted him the land that the fort sat on. Your family held the claim until… the purge. It's abandoned now."

"Wow," Merlin said, shaking his head. "That's… mad."

"So you're a lord," Mordred said, coming over with an empty basket.

"I'm sure Uther would beg to differ," Merlin pointed out.

"My father never technically rescinded the nobility, he just destroyed the records under the impression the line had been wiped out. There might be records in other kingdoms that list your father as Lord Ambrosius and your abilities prove your birthright. You could technically claim lordship at any time," Arthur said.

"And get my head chopped off for my troubles," Merlin finished and Arthur nodded. Merlin frowned and glared at them. "Wait, that's why you called me Lord Emrys?"

Mordred smirked and bowed to them both before darting out the door.

"You're turning him against me."

"You're one to talk, Merlin. Who told him I like having my food stolen?"

"We have to keep you fighting fit."

"Speaking of which, when was the last time we had sword training? We have to get Your Lordship in proper form."

"Prat."

"Idiot."