I've been so slow lately, guys, but I promise this story is never far from my mind. This was a tough chapter to write, the last bridge before the real action starts. Unbetaed. Merlin is not mine. Thanks for still reading 3

The Afterfall

It purred.

Percival didn't expect a dragon to purr, but it did.

He and Gwaine had joined Gwen the next day when she absently said she was off to check on Aithusa, and he knew it wasn't out of concern for his queen but curiosity. She had her dress folded underneath her knees and was dirtying it with the hay, patting the purring dragon and frowning deeply. Gwaine sat next to her and Percival, standing above both of them, could only stare.

Once, as a child, he'd kept a garden snake he found in his mother's flowerpot as a pet. He used to watch the snake for hours while it breathed without a chest, by expanding its entire form in and out, in and out. The dragon's neck was long and thin like a snake, but it seemed to breath from something like the lungs of a cat as it heaved its shoulders up and down. That aggressive, bumpy spine shivered with every inhale and seemed almost to collapse on exhale. It curled its wings around itself like a blanket that clattered against its scales.

Gwaine could have been reading Percival's mind when he tilted his head at the thing and voiced, "She must be ancient," in awe.

Gwen shrugged. "She a baby when she found Morgana."

Percival blinked and Gwaine sounded incredulous. "A baby?"

Another shrug and nod.

"It looks like a fossil…" Percival couldn't resist saying.

"She," Gwen's mouth twitched. "She grew up in too small a cell while Sarrum had Morgana prisoner." A soundless laugh seemed to escape her, and Percival had never seen anyone wear a more complex smile. "Even Arthur was horrified when he heard that…I remember now." Something in her eyes sparkled. They were wet. Guinevere's eyes were wet and Percival wasn't sure which her she meant.

He had the feeling he was on some twisted battleground, deciding whether or not to engage.

Gwaine decided for him and put his hand over hers. He didn't grasp it, just covered it with his own. She nodded unsteadily and continued smoothing her other palm over Aithusa's spine.

"You're being brilliant," Percival blurted out. Her eyebrows jumped as she turned to look at him with bewilderment, as though she'd never seen him before. "For—for what it's worth, your majesty."

Guinevere gaped for a moment. "Thank you," she finally said.

Gwaine stared at her incredulously, almost angrily. "Don't look so bloody surprised."

"Hi," said a tentative voice at the door. They were spared reactions to Gwaine's statement as they turned to see Merlin standing at the entrance.

Gwen seemed to need a moment before she addressed him. "Is he awake?"

Merlin shook his head quickly. "No, I just…I wanted to see how she was doing," he gestured to the dragon.

"Did you know she's still a baby?" Gwaine piped up,as if he hadn't just sworn at a queen.

"Yes."

"How did you know that?" Gwen arched a brow at him.

Merlin paused, then shrugged. "Same way you know, I assume. I can speak dragontongue, too."

Gwen didn't respond. Instead she kept frowning at him. The next noise, a sort of louder version of the pur, came from a suddenly bright-eyed Aithusa. Merlin walked in slowly and knelt down, across from Gwen. "Hey," he smiled, stroking the dragon's chest with an unafraid hand. Percival noticed Gwaine's gazed fixed on Merlin, while Percival kept his own fixed on Gwen. One knight per problem.

A harsh trail of sounds from Gwen's lips interrupted the peace. It was the dragon language, but Percival had no idea if the queen was speaking to the dragon itself or to Merlin, whose eyes flashed at the strange, thick words. A shiver shot through Percival's spine—even coming from Gwen, those words somehow sounded too powerful to be anything other than evil…no, remember what Gaius said, try to trust this…

"I think so," Merlin said, his small voice seemingly responding to Gwen's utterance. Percival exchanged glances with Gwaine, who look just as irritated as he felt. "She should be speaking English by now as well, but that cage…"

Gwen closed her eyes and nodded. "Crippled her in more ways than one?"

"Why are we saving her?" For a moment, Percival thought it was Gwaine who asked it, until every pair of eyes in the room snapped towards his own, and his stomach sank. "That came out wrong, I—I know she's just a kid, in dragon years, I mean—I don't think she's a monster, not now, not anymore, but that's four kingdoms out there, all wanting our blood, all prepared to gut us in another war just for this dragon. And I'm sorry, I…milady, I don't understand," he sputtered it all in one breath.

Pause. Gwen lifted tried to lift up her hand from the crown of the dragons head, but Aithusa stretched her neck to keep contact with Gwen's palm. "We are defending her," she spoke slowly and measuredly, "—because these creatures should never have been massacred in the first place." Her eyes were grave as they met Percival's own. "I could explain in more detail why she needs to survive," he had the feeling he was staring down a well that dropped all the way to the center of a very old earth, "—but I honestly don't think you want to know."

Merlin felt the need to leave the stables immediately after that speech. It should be me telling the knights all that, he thought. It's not her fault they don't trust me anymore, I should be able to help her. Only the bright blue sky eased that twisting inside his chest—it was a lovely morning.

Mordred. Eventually she'll ask again about Mordred.

He headed to the infirmary to find Gaius napping and, to his slight chagrin, Leon, dressed in full armor and hunched on the chair facing a still-unconscious Iseldir. The knight tilted his eyes up through his hair as Merlin temporarily halted in the entrance before shaking it off and taking the seat on Iseldir's opposite side.

"What do you want?" Leon asked tonelessly.

Merlin's brows drew down. "Same as you," he tried to keep his voice level. "To make sure he's alright."

He wasn't sure he heard correctly when the next words out of Leon's mouth were "How do you know him?"

It took him a moment to remember the incident when he, Arthur, and Gwaine stole the cup of life from the man, but that didn't seem like a good enough answer. "He was just always there," Merlin said. "He knew the forests around Camelot better than anyone and he knew my name before we ever spoke two words…he had the power to get inside my head but he never used it for anything other than to help me."

Leon blinked and then shook his head. "I always wondered if that's what he was trying to do," he said to himself.

"…What?"

He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Dreamed about him after we won against Morgana's immortal arsenal. I wasn't—wasn't in the best of shape after I gave him away by telling Uther about that cup. In the dream, he told me the people who were certain of anything in Camelot were the ones who were certain they wanted all druids dead."

Merlin tried to remember the last time he was certain of anything. Protect Arthur. "I guess he had a point," he said, watching Iseldir breathe.

"What are you, Merlin?"

His eyes met Leon's and he felt cold.

"I wish I could tell you," his voice shrunk.

"No, you don't," Leon retorted. "I don't think you've ever really wanted to know, at least not while you were behind these walls. You played the part of the idiot serving boy too well. Lying to us for all those years while wearing that blank face? Did it feel safer in there?"

Of all the things Merlin would have expected Leon to have power to hurt, he didn't expect it would be his pride. "I don't know," he responded casually. "Does it feel safer in that armor you never take off?"

Leon's eyebrows shot up. Hatred surged between them and for a moment Merlin felt as though the two of them might as well have been facing opposite each other in a battle ring until he realized I've never felt like his equal before. His superior and his subordinate, but never his equal…

You never let yourself be.

Merlin's heart skipped a beat. That voice was in his head. "Leon, he's awake."

The rage in the knight's eyes dissipated instantly as they dropped to the man before them. "What? How do you know?" he asked, almost frantically.

"Because you two…" the druid's eyelids fluttered—the voice that left his bobbing throat was frayed around the edges, but iron at its core, "…could infuriate the spirits of old with such displays."

Merlin saw Leon flush a deep red even while his eyes were wide with wonder, and he felt his own breath finally settle in his lungs. "Iseldir," he breathed.

Iseldir opened his ageless eyes and left them staring at the rafters. "Am I in Camelot?" he rasped.

Leon nodded furiously. "Yes—our men found you in a cave along with two dead soldiers—they brought you back here—" Merlin tried to stop himself from snorting at the irony of Leon referring to him as one of "our men."

"I shouldn't have survived," Iseldir said to the ceiling.

Merlin and Leon exchanged a glance. "We needed you," Merlin said simply, and Leon seemed to nod. Bloody hell. Now we're strategizing together.

Iseldir sighed a thin sigh that somehow spread throughout the entire width of the room. "I felt Gaius's presence in my sleep."

A stiff heat clenched at Merlin's arms. "What do you mean?" his question came out harsher than he meant it to.

Finally Iseldir cast his eyes down to both of them, first at Merlin, then at Leon, then at the wall in front of him. "You're both lucky that the world's power is operating by different mechanisms now," he said, as if still in a very distant place. "Gaius would likely not have survived in any other circumstance."

Merlin felt his eyes bulge, felt the color leave his skin, and felt his feet trip over each other as he stood from the seat and bolted toward his guardian's bedroom door.

Iseldir cast a weary but sharp eye on Leon, who felt its power tremble through him after Merlin slammed the door shut. "Gaius is fine—" Leon feebly protested before that eye silenced him completely.

"You encouraged the use of that cup on me," the druid did not speak as though this were a question.

Leon felt the full force of this like an accusation. "I'd do it again, sir."

A dry, cracking laugh shook his stomach. "Now you address me like a military captain? I am no one's 'sir,' Leon."

"Would you have told me about Merlin?" Leon interrupted. Iseldir quieted. "If I'd tried to find you in the woods, or if I saw you in any other dream, would you have told me about him?"

Iseldir paused for a long moment before shaking his head. "No, Sir Leon, I do not believe I would have."

That hopeless anger, associated too heavily with the feeling of being lost, flooded through Leon again. "Why not?"

The druid frowned thoughtfully. "Because I believe you were right when you spoke earlier."

"Right about what?" Leon demanded.

"In some ways, it was safer for Merlin to wear that armor."

Leon swallowed at the thought of Iseldir overhearing that conversation. "Only in some ways?"

"Well, yes," Iseldir remarked with a sort of mild irritation fringing his voice. "Perhaps if you had known of his powers earlier, all of you would be spared this need to waste so much time re-examining your philosophies. There is no time left."

"No, there isn't," a different voice came from the entryway. Leon stood from his seat immediately at the sight of Gwen standing straight-backed with full authority.

"It is an honor, your majesty," Iseldir bowed his head with far more elegance than should be possible for a man lying prostrate on a table.

A small dry grin tugged Gwen's mouth. Leon couldn't help but realize the last time he'd seen her smile had been while she was laughing at him. "The same to you, Iseldir," she said. "Maro, Merlin, and Sir Leon all speak highly of you." Something about the way she referred to him as 'sir' without looking to him made Leon flinch.

The druid's eyes lightened. "Maro made it here safely, then?"

"She is wounded, but I assure you she is healing quite well," she said before turning a quick glance to the ground. "Sir Leon, I wonder if I could have a few words with Iseldir alone for a moment?" she said abruptly.

Leon knew Gwen well enough to recognize this as an order, not a suggestion. "Of course, majesty—" he paused and gestured to inner chamber. "Merlin is in there with Gaius, just—just so you are aware."

Gwen raised her eyebrows and nodded her curt dismissal. Leon left the room, shut the door behind him, and wondered how long she would refuse to look him in the eye.

When Merlin nearly ripped the door from its hinges, he found Gaius breathing evenly and peacefully. If he had never known Gaius to sleep without snoring, he would have left him alone to his rest. But the physician was awake, and as Merlin stood there silently he eventually opened his old eyes.

"I guess you heard that," Merlin tried to keep the storm in his head coming through his voice.

Gaius nodded without flinching. "I did."

The memory dawned on Merlin with a painful light. "You took that cup away from me," he said, "…you took the spell out of my hands. You didn't want me to be the one to cure Iseldir."

"They need you," Gaius interrupted, stopping the racing of Merlin's mind cold, "—more than they need me, Merlin. I'm an old man."

"So am I," Merlin's voice broke. God, so am I.

A little smile made its way across the old man's face. "I know you know what it feels like. Imagine being unable to take a potion to cure it."

"Gaius, I don't have to—"

"Can you blame me, Merlin?" Gaius interrupted again. "Can you blame me for being tired?"

Merlin didn't know what to say, so he stared at the man who'd cared for him for too long. A blood vessel had burst in his eye. His hair looked thinner than ever before. The lines on his face pressed too firmly into the skull holding it all together.

"I felt as though I would live when I took that cup from you," Gaius continued, softer this time. "Maybe whatever power sent Gwen her ability decided to smile on me as well."

Merlin's jaw tightened as he shakily nodded. For a moment he stood still, looking around the room until his eyes set on the joint stool. He pulled it over close to the bedside. Gaius frowned and watched as Merlin sat down, curled up his legs, and rested his head on the bed beside the old man. Eventually, Gaius smiled, patted his back, closed his eyes, and drifted to sleep. Merlin stayed awake, but he felt more peaceful than he had in ages.

It could have been ten minutes or an hour later, but the next thing Merlin heard was the door opening, followed by a skirt rustling over the small sound of shoes. He dazedly lifted his head.

Gwen wasn't alone. Iseldir stood at her side, leaning exhaustedly on a cane, but with a sturdiness in his eyes and mouth that could not be matched by anyone else.

"What is it?" Merlin whispered, not wanting to wake Gaius.

Gwen inhaled shallowly. "I need you to come up with a list of names for me."

Merlin frowned. "Why?"

"Camelot," Iseldir said, "—needs a different kind of army."

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