Word from the author:

Thanks for keeping up with the story this far. It makes me really happy!

It's almost over, but there might be a sequel. Just don't forget to drop me a word and tell me what you thought of the story.

This is the last chapter.

Enjoy.

DAWN OF THE DRAGONLORD

Chapter 22

"Lady Helen? The Afanc?"

"Saved your life."

"Lancelot already told me about the Griffin and the Cup of Life. What else?"

Merlin raked his brain, but already he was growing tired of that game. He needed to pack for the journey back to Camelot. He also had many words of farewell to give. He had barely spoken with Lord Brunor – King Brunor he corrected himself – ever since the battle with the terrible Shadow. He had not heard from Galahad either. Somehow he knew that the dark magic had been lifted, otherwise he would be lying in bed sick from falling in the water. But the Gaius part of him was still longing anxiously for some kind of confirmation.

On the whole, he was feeling a lot better than he had in a long while. After months of hunting evil creatures after dark, a night's sleep had felt like a blessing even though it had been short one. The death of the King and the prospect of returning to Camelot had woken him early in the morning and he had spent possibly a few hours sitting in his bed, thinking. The tiredness and soreness were almost gone now, though he wasn't sure that he was fully recovered from falling into the cursed water. His magic was no longer a secret and Arthur seemed to have accepted it, which ought to make him happy, yet he was feeling the weight of another burden, another secret that he was bringing with him to Camelot. He was the last of the House of Brittanicus, a noble family, but he would have to pretend to be a servant once more. And on top of everything, Arthur's constant questioning was getting on his nerves.

Merlin had honestly imagined that he would find some peace and quiet at the stables, but it seemed he hadn't.

"Edwin the physician with his so-called remedy to cure all ills, what do you have to say about him?" said the prince, continuing with his inquiries.

"He was actually trying to kill your father by putting bugs in his ears. Bit frightening, that was," Merlin said absent-mindedly as he was folding a blanket and adding it to his horse's satchel.

He had always liked these stables. They were much less impressive than the ones in Camelot, but the air felt less contained and the smell was much more bearable. He could tell that the animals were comfortable there. Upon his arrival in Aria's Cradle, he had been given a brown horse that was slow, old and insignificant. But the one that he was most fond of was a grey stallion called Nuada which he technically was not allowed to ride. Only Galahad knew how often Merlin had taken Nuada through the Valley and beyond. There was a strange connection between them. Sometimes he almost felt as though the horse knew where he wanted to go or what he wanted to do. He had even imagined that he could hear it whisper, but that was just his imagination.

Right now, the horse was stamping the ground and shaking its mane of long grey hair.

Sorry, my friend, Merlin thought bitterly as he pulled the straps on the saddle of the brown horse whose name he could not even recall. I can't take you with me, Nuada. They will not allow it. Besides you'd hate it in Camelot. Risking your life every day. It's not a kind of life I'd pick for anyone. Here it's better for you.

Arthur was utterly undisturbed by the deep thoughts that Merlin was having.

"What about Lady Sophia?" the prince burst out loudly, which made a few of the horses neigh nervously. "You didn't really hit me on the head to bring me back. I have never believed that."

"No, but I saved your life," Merlin replied pointedly.

"And the wraith that almost killed my father?"

"Magic sword burnished by dragon fire. It came in handy with Morgause's Immortal Army as well."

Arthur's mouth fell open and Merlin could see behind his eyes that the prince was making calculations. He was trying to figure out how many times the young sorcerer had saved his life and Camelot in complete anonymity.

"And in Ealdor? I'm guessing your friend Will wasn't the sorcerer who conjured up that whirlwind. How could you let him take credit for that?"

"He was trying to protect me."

"And the Questing Beast?"

"Saved your life."

"The curse of Cornelius Sigan?"

"Saved your life… but mostly I saved Camelot."

"What about jousting? If you tell me that you used magic to make me win…"

"No… I would never… Can you please stop that?"

Merlin let out a long sigh of irritation as he picked up his sword's empty sheath and considered discarding it. It was useless now, thanks to Arthur. He had been really fond of the way it allowed him to carry the sword on his back instead of on his belt. But what good was an empty shell now?

Arthur was still looking at him expectantly. "Well?"

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?" Merlin said annoyingly. He had forgotten the point of Arthur's inquiries.

The prince merely shrugged. "We were traveling light so there wasn't much to pack. Gwaine and Lancelot took care of the food, which probably means that we'll have to stop at a few inns and taverns along the way. You're not going to leave that here, are you?"

Merlin looked at the empty sheath in his hand. He knew that he couldn't keep anything too conspicuous with him and he didn't need Arthur Pendragon to tell him exactly that. Servants do not carry around fancy things. It was mostly the reason why he was leaving almost everything behind. He was keeping with him only a long grey travelling cloak to keep warm. The books in his chamber would have to remain behind though he would have liked to show them to Gaius. Gwaine and Galahad had convinced him to keep at least the chain mail which he was certain to need at some point, but all of the clothes adorning the Brittanicus crest were staying in Aria's Cradle. Lord Merlin Brittanicus, it seemed, was about to disappear from his life.

"I'm not sure what to do with it," he murmured as he met Arthur's inquiring glance. "Of course I wouldn't have an empty sheath if you hadn't thrown my grandfather's sword away in the Black Lake."

Arthur looked outraged. "To save your life and lift the curse!"

"I could have done it without the sword. I was in complete control of the situation."

"No, you weren't, not after falling into that cursed water," pointed out the prince. "You would have died."

"Now we'll never know," Merlin replied smartly and with a smirk.

"You're just too proud to admit that I helped!" gasped the prince.

"You lost my grandfather's sword. How does that help?"

"Merlin!"

"My Lord?"

Merlin said "Yes?" at once. He then immediately realised that the prince had replied as well, which only made him shot a cross look at Arthur.

A tall knight was standing at the entrance of the stable.

"Lord Merlin, the King requests your presence in the Great Hall."

Without further ado, he followed the knight out of the stables, only to hear Arthur shout "Saved your life!" from behind his back.

Merlin didn't even look back when he replied. "No, you didn't!"

He had seen the Great Hall busy before, but never quite like this. For once, the throne room was not filled with desperate people cowering from the nightmare outside the walls of the keep. The chamber was filled with loud talk, clatter of metal and clanging of heavy hammers. The servants were hanging back the ornaments on the stone walls; there were swords and shields in every corner of the room. Merlin recognised the blazons of the five Dragonlord Houses. Also, at least twenty men were working on moving the rocks from the caved in wall.

"Merlin!" called a voice from across the room.

The young sorcerer immediately noticed King Brunor walking towards him and he was glad to see that the cares of watching over his dying father for months had been removed from the knight's face. He was almost like a new man, tall and proud.

"You're leaving us already," said Brunor, clasping a brotherly hand on Merlin's shoulder and leading him to take a walk around the Great Hall.

"I'm afraid I have too," Merlin replied respectfully, keeping a step back from the King as he was used to as a servant. "Prince Arthur has been away from Camelot for too long and we have a long way to travel. I am sorry that I could not be here when your father passed away."

Brunor merely shook his head. "You are not to blame. You have been by his side during his long agony more often then I can say. It is a shame, however, that he did not live to know that the curse has been lifted. But he knew that you would be the one to do it, and somehow that thought was enough to give him peace."

Merlin slowed down his pace. As much as he wanted to agree with Brunor, he could not leave the new King with a lie.

"You're giving me too much credit. I played a part, but in the end it was Arthur who gave the final blow."

Brunor gave him a fond look. "That is not how Arthur tells it. He said that you produced a pure light to repel the Shadow. Such magic has not been seen for a long time. You are quite special, my friend."

Merlin felt himself blush. Gaius had called him 'special' more than one, but to hear it spoken by a king seemed to through a new light on the meaning of his gift.

"I… don't know what to say, my Lord."

"I'm not finished yet," replied Brunor. "You're quite special and Arthur knows it. He's seen it. I couldn't let you go with someone unaware of what and who you are. You may feel that it is your destiny to protect Arthur Pendragon, but I'm making it his responsibility to watch over you. I shall send Galahad in a few months to make sure that you are well."

"I appreciate your concern, my Lord, but I can take care of my self," Merlin said sulkily.

Brunor was shaking his head. "Merlin, your ability to hurt yourself and put yourself in the front line of danger never ceases to amaze me, and I am sure it will be the same in Camelot. You cannot escape this, I'm afraid."

Merlin knew that it was pointless to argue with Brunor. The knight was as stubborn as Arthur but he had a sort of nobility in him that the young sorcerer greatly admired. The fact that Brunor was now on the throne was taking a little weight off his shoulders. Aria's Cradle was in good hands.

"Then I shall be glad to see Galahad again," he said with a grin. "But where is Galahad?"

"He's preparing your second parting gift," Brunor said elusively.

"Second?"

"Yes," replied Brunor. "And you first parting gift is right this way."

He then pressed both hands on Merlin's shoulders to turn him around gently. The sight before him nearly knocked all the air out of Merlin's lungs. The knights of Aria's Cradle, along with Lancelot and Gwaine, were all present as though they had been miraculously plucked out of the crowd. They were standing proudly before him, all of them wearing the black cloak and silver dragon crest, in a kind of ceremonial salute. The tallest of them, Gregory, took a step forward and held out an object wrapped in a grey cloth. When he unfolded the fabric, it was to reveal Merlin's grandfather sword.

"Where did you…?" Merlin began to say, trying hard to contain his emotions.

"It washed up on the shore of the Black Lake," said Brunor. "It's a little beaten, but it is still yours if you want it."

His only reaction was to pick up the sword by the hilt. The blade was a less shiny it seemed, the silver and gold markings a little faded, but still it was his sword and he was glad to get it back. It was a piece of his family and holding it gave him a sense of being whole again.

"I find name for it," said Gregory with his typical accent. "It is called… Light of Brittanicus."

Several of the knights were wearing wide derisive grins.

"I kind of like it actually," said Merlin. "It is the Sword of Brittanicus, isn't it? Thank you Gregory."

After that, he exchanged many words of farewell with the knights. All of them announced that they would come to his aid should he ever ask for it. Gregory almost crushed his ribs when he gave him a tight and surprising hug. Brunor shook his hand warmly and Merlin replied by bowing low to the new King before leaving the Great Hall.

When he reached the stables, his second parting gift was indeed waiting for him. Galahad was there and holding the reins of a horse that was all packed and ready to go. But it was not the brown horse; it was a proud grey stallion with long hair. It was Nuada.

"What…?" he began to say, but he had to stop to catch his breath. The sword had been a beautiful moment, but this was something he had not expected.

"Brunor was intending this horse for his son," Galahad said with great admiration, "but he decided that it is too big… for a baby."

"Then it is perfect for Merlin," said a familiar voice behind the young sorcerer's back.

He didn't even have to look to know what kind of smirk Arthur was wearing.

"At least it doesn't have that self-satisfied air like all of your horses," Merlin replied smartly. "I hope it's not a disease or something. I wouldn't want Nuada to catch it."

"Do you need help with that?" asked Galahad, pointing at Merlin's sword.

The young sorcerer did not even need to reply. Galahad already had the empty sheath. He placed the sword in it and adjusted the straps so that Merlin could carry it on his back, all under Arthur's petrified look.

"You are going to tell me how you retrieved that sword, right?" said Arthur as they were both mounted on their horses, side by side, and Galahad was walking back towards the keep, having just given Merlin the warmest farewell with the promise of a visit to Camelot soon.

"He's not limping so much now, is he?" continued the prince.

"No, the healing should be faster with the curse gone."

Merlin knew that he was only answering absent-mindedly. His eyes were fixed on the keep and the valley beyond with the strange impression that he was never going to see it again. This place had been his home for a short time only, but it had felt as though he had known it for longer than that. As much as he wanted to see Camelot again, and Gaius and his mother and Gwen, taking the first step back towards them also meant taking one away from Aria's Cradle, the birth place of his father, and the last home of the Brittanicus.

Arthur seemed to have followed his glance.

"You will come back here someday," he said with the same seriousness he kept for important moments.

"No, I won't," said Merlin before he could even think about his reply.

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know. I just have a bad feeling."

"Is this going to happen often?"

Merlin glanced sideways at the prince. "I'm not a seer," he replied.

"Why shouldn't you come back here then? It's where your father grew up, is it not? I still can't believe that you got away with that, by the way."

Their horses were growing impatient now and Lancelot and Gwaine were waiting for them to lead the way. They would have time to talk more seriously along the road.

"Maybe if you weren't so self-centered, you would have noticed that something else was happening all by yourself."

Arthur jerked his horse sideways to face him.

"Why is it that even after I saved your life I'm still a selfish… prat?"

"You didn't save my life," Merlin snapped back. "And you are a selfish prat, condescending and all that. And I would also like to point that that I was able to keep my magic a secret under your nose for years so you might think twice about that before calling me an idiot."

"Are you saying that I, Prince Arthur, am an idiot for not seeing it?"

"Yep."

Merlin did not even need to kick his horse; Nuada knew that it was time to go.

"You can't call me an idiot!" cried out Arthur, catching up with him.

"You call me an idiot all the time," called back Merlin.

"That's because you are."

"Likewise then. And technically, until we reach Camelot, I am still Lord Merlin so you may address me as… My Lord or… Sire."

"Over my dead body," Arthur said loudly as their horses sped forward towards the mouth of the valley.

They did not see Gwaine and Lancelot exchange a very annoyed look.

"Is it going to be like this all the way home?" said the older knight.

Lancelot's only answer was to sigh and send his horse forward.

"Better make it fast, then."

The last of Lord Brittanicus, Prince Arthur and the two other knights that the people of Aria's Cradle saw was the outline of four riders going steadily towards a setting sun.