A/N: anyone else seen the trailer to The Hobbit? Oh my gosh, how amazing does it look? :D So excited!

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

-)-(-

Two days.

Two whole days.

That was how long it had been since anyone in the castle, or in fact Camelot, had seen his unreliable dolt of a manservant. Two days since Camelot had been shrouded in thick, heavy clouds, moody rumbles of thunder constantly filling the air, dreary rain falling in thick sheets. Arthur wouldn't say he was worried, no, but a sliver of concern was certainly there. While never on time and forever clumsy, the one thing Merlin always was was present. To have him suddenly vanished was…strange, to say the least.

"Sire."

The call brought Arthur out of his brooding, the young king tearing his gaze from the square below and turning to the door, where Gwaine now stood, Elyan by his side. The knights shared a look before Elyan stepped forward.

"Sire…Gaius…" he paused, the name still hard for all of them to say. "The funeral is planned for today."

"I know." Arthur answered tersely.

Elyan shot Gwaine a look, the other sighing before stepping forward himself. "Arthur, we either find Merlin or we delay the funeral. He can't miss it."

"I don't know where he is."

"Then look."

"I have!"

Arthur's shout brought the room to an uncomfortable silence, the king's hands clenching and unclenching into fists by his sides. He avoided their gazes when he next spoke.

"I have had everyone out looking for him; I've gone looking myself! Merlin can't be found. For an idiot, he's a genius at hiding," Arthur mumbled, almost as an afterthought.

"Then one last look," Gwaine urged. "We get all the Brotherhood to look. He can't've gone far."

"Of course not," was the impatient reply. "None of the guards have seen him leave."

"You mean he's still in the palace?" Elyan asked incredulously.

Arthur's look was the answer he needed and so quickly shut his mouth. The royal in question did finally give a nod though, hands clapping together. "Get the Brotherhood into the council chambers by the hour. We search together. And God help us, we find him."

-)-(-

Cold.

Cold and alone.

Cold, alone and black.

A nudge. A sliver of warmth. A glimmer of light.

The tiniest portion of peace.

Undeniable guilt; and the peace was chased away.

-)-(-

The torchlight bounced off the stone walls, casting eerie shadows down the long, narrow corridor. The was a scuff as a boot dislodged a fragment of rock, a faint jingle as a sword shifted in its sheath, the faintest crackle of burning fire. Save for those sounds, sounds that could not be muted, everything was silent. The Brotherhood had started their search with optimism and a belief that, between them, it would not be hard to find what they were looking for.

That belief had promptly been dashed.

They had searched all the most obvious places – the kitchens, the library, unused guest rooms, even Gaius' chambers – and found nothing. More thorough searching had then had to be done, and yet still, the results were the same. Merlin was literally nowhere to be found.

"Maybe he managed to outsmart Camelot's finest."

At one stage, Gwaine's offhand remark would have been met with laughter; now it was only met with solemn silence. The possibility that Merlin had somehow slipped out of the city was fast becoming that: a possibility.

"He can't have gone," Arthur huffed, stopping and turning to face his closest knights. "Merlin wouldn't leave."

"Not without saying good-bye," Percival agreed, sharing a look with all those gathered.

"There aren't many more places he could be," Leon pointed out, voice factual but tone belying his concern.

"We will find him." Arthur's statement was made through clenched teeth. "He can't be gone. He can't."

"So what's over here then, my friends?" Gwaine's question was as unexpected as always, an arm pointing towards a wide staircase that soon descended into shadow.

Arthur bit back a growl. "He wouldn't be down there."

Gwaine's head cocked to one side. "And why's that? Just what's down there?"

"Nothing," Leon replied tersely.

"The Great Dragon," Arthur revealed upon seen the question being set to him by the other knight. His eyes were narrowed in hatred when he next spoke. "My father chained the beast down there. Until it escaped and attacked Camelot. No," he said firmly, turning away. "Merlin would not be down there. No one would be."

"So I suppose it's the air that's singing then?"

Their company literally froze, everyone's ears straining to hear what Gwaine was claiming to have heard. And sure enough, there it was:

"…héahbeorgas ceald,

tó dimhús déop and cíneas gamol…"

Motioning for silence, Arthur slipped to the head. A series of complicated hand gestures, which could really only mean 'follow me', were given, and then they made for the stairs, footsteps light and swift as shadows.

"se líeg béon réod"

The voice was indistinguishable, or rather, it was from such a distance. The walls bounced the sound around, made it echo in an unearthly fashion.

"Those words are not English," Leon hissed, leaning closer to Arthur as he gave his revelation.

"hit lígbǽre iernan…"

"Who else but a sorcerer would be down here?" Arthur whispered back fiercely. "No one in their right mind would be down here – they wouldn't even know of it!"

"se tréowas gelíce léohtfætas…"

As they descended further into the bowels of the castle, the voice reached them with greater clarity. The unfamiliar words were now impossible to deny, and every one of them was itching for the swords, hands instinctively moving to their sides. No matter what their veiled opinions of magic, none could deny the threat a sorcerer held. And Arthur was well aware, that this song may not be that…It could just as easily be a curse.

The king grit his teeth.

"blæstmes eac léoht…"

Reaching the cavern's end, Arthur waited for each knight to reach his side before giving an empathic nod. With a roar, he threw himself around the corner, sword drawn in a fluid motion.

Only to come to a grinding halt when his eyes realised what they were seeing.

"Merlin?"

The young manservant had already flung himself to his feet at Arthur's yell, completely startled. His eyes, which moments ago were red and brimming with tears, were now wide in panic, body shaking in shock. But the panic was well-grounded because, at his feet, looking suitably disorientated, was Aithusa; the little dragon that had been the only thing able to bring him any form of comfort.

Any compassion Arthur had thought he would feel was suddenly banished. "What the hell is going on?"

Merlin subconsciously shied away from the voice, mind blurred from exhaustion, unable to form coherent thoughts. Explanations, lies, stupid stories…none of them would come to him. And that scared him. Scared him to death. Because it meant he might lose what had become so precious to him. To lose Aithusa…the thought was terrifying.

The warlock didn't even realise the hatchling had sensed his fear; that is, not until it launched itself at Arthur, deeming him the cause of the threat.

Two things happened at once:

Arthur raised his sword, ready to strike the beast down.

And Merlin cried out, voice desperate, "Aithusa, ảnapaúw! Ảmós ếths!"

Silence.

Then Aithusa was moving, gliding away from Arthur and scampering his way into Merlin's arms, the warlock drawing him close to his chest, arm ensnaring the dragon protectively. His breath came in pants, and his eyes stared at the ground, but there had never been greater resolve in his frame. This was one fight he would not back down from.

It was Arthur who made the first move. "Merlin, what was that?"

Merlin cringed at the forced calm that sentence held. In reply he simply shrugged, not trusting himself to speak, having no idea what would come out his mouth should he choose to do so.

Arthur huffed, forcing the point of his sword into the ground before holding his arms crossly. "Look Merlin, just give me the dragon…Where did you even find a dragon?...Give it to me, and we'll talk."

"No."

Arthur blinked in surprise. "Excuse me?"

Merlin's head raised enough to glare at him. "I said, no."

"I'm sorry," Arthur growled, face torn between anger and disbelief. "Did that sound like a question to you?"

"I will not let you have him," there was a raspy edge to Merlin's voice, as though an underlying stream of power was coursing through it.

"You don't really have a choice! By law that creature should be killed!"

"Don't you dare!"

The thunderous yell bounced off the stone walls, Merlin tightening his hold on Aithusa even further. "Arthur…" Gwaine warned.

He brushed it off though, stomping forward several steps, unable to believe his servant would defy him in such a way. "Hand me that dragon, you…you fool!"

Arthur reached out, fully intending to grab the little white dragon. What he was not expecting was for his servant's eyes to flash golden. Next thing he knew, he was flung back through the air, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

Merlin stared at his outstretched hand in horror.

Oh gods.

-)-(-

A/N: okay, so I lied about the hurt/comfort. I thought there would be some, but there wasn't. XD And BAM! reveal. Looks like Merlin has some explaining to do, he he.

For those interested, this is the song Merlin was singing; I thought it fit:

"Far over the misty mountain cold,

To dungeons deep and caverns old,

The fire was red, it flaming spread,

The trees like torches, blazed with light."