1. You Don't Belong Here

When Arthur heard the echo of a distant shout near one of the courtyards, he was quick to redirect his path.

It was only the second night in which no new sightings of the dragon had been reported, but curfew still remained in effect. There was no telling when the beast would return and lay siege upon their weakening garrison.

"―it is a foul thing which you have done to me, Merlin! If you do not reverse this now, it is you who will pay dearly for it!"

Under the light of the moon, Arthur caught sight of Merlin's terrified face.

Before he knew it, Arthur was rushing forward, vaulting over the ledge bisecting the corridor from the courtyard, and tearing across the flagstones. Arthur ignored Merlin's startled shout as he shoved the servant behind him and unsheathed his sword.

Arthur didn't know what kind of quarrel had sprung up between Merlin and this stranger, but he doubted it was worth more than his idiot manservant's life.

"This dispute is over," Arthur declared. "Curfew is enforced from nightfall to first light. I suggest you return home, before I have the guards escort you out."

"Ah," the man said, not appearing the least bit cowed by the sight of Arthur. "The young prince."

Arthur narrowed his eyes and observed the strange man.

He was tall, taller than both Merlin and himself, and dressed in tattered castoffs, with a greasy mess of gold hair framing a pale, gaunt face. But it was his eyes which set Arthur on edge. They were a vivid amber hue that nearly glowed in the dark of night.

"Who are you?" Arthur asked. Though he wasn't overly familiar with every citizen of Camelot, Arthur knew he'd never set eyes on this man before.

The man eyed him strangely, before he finally uttered, "My name is Kilgharrah."

What a bizzare name.

"Arthur, it's alright," Merlin spoke up from behind him, voice subdued. "He's with me."

Arthur's expression pinched in alarm. Why did Merlin sound so afraid?

"Is he now?" Arthur replied evenly, sword still raised.

"I am not," Kilgharrah suddenly snarled, ignoring the proximity of Arthur's sword as he leaned forward and glowered darkly at Merlin. "You have made a grave mistake and if you do not rectify it, my retribution will be worse than anything you've yet seen. On that, you have my word."

"No."

It took Arthur some effort to keep his jaw from dropping. Merlin no longer sounded afraid. He sounded…angry.

"If you expect me to apologize after everything you have done, then you are mistaken," Merlin continued, voice shaking with some unspoken emotion as he stepped around Arthur to stand at his right hand. "I trusted you. But I will not be fooled a second time. Go, if you must. But until you give up your quest for revenge, I will not help you."

"I am not going anywhere," Kilgharrah growled. "Not until you set right your wrongs!"

"Who is Merlin to you, that you would demand so much from him?" Arthur asked tersely, growing tired of the man's contention. Merlin could act a fool, but he was harmless. What could he have possibly done to earn this stranger's wrath?

Kilgharrah's face twisted with disdain. "He is my brother."

That caught him short. "Merlin doesn't have a brother."

Arthur's gaze swiveled to Merlin, awaiting his agreement, but Merlin was shaking his head.

"We've only just discovered this, Arthur," he explained with a grimace. "I never knew my father. But it is through him that we've found kinship."

"That man is no kin of mine," Kilgharrah suddenly spat. "He is a traitor and a coward."

Merlin shifted uncomfortably, looking sad and unsure.

"Very well then, Merlin's brother, you may find lodging with the common people in one of the halls," Arthur said. "Find your way there soon, before a patrol finds you and arrests you."

Kilgharrah scoffed, but Arthur was already turning away, deciding to no longer concern himself with the embittered man.

"Come along, Merlin. There's work to be done," he said, gripping Merlin's arm and dragging him away.

"But Arthur―"

"It wasn't a suggestion."

For a moment, Arthur actually believed Merlin would do as he was told.

But then, as they rounded the corner from the courtyard, Merlin dug his heels in and jerked Arthur to a halt.

"Arthur, he's dangerous."

Arthur turned, briefly observing Merlin's panicked expression.

"I believe you," Arthur allowed himself to say. Despite his lack of weaponry and armor, Kilgharrah was a large, formidable man. And he had no doubt that Kilgharrah had meant every single one of his threats. "But there are more important matters which demand our attention."

"What? Like chores?" Merlin scowled.

"No. Like the fact that the great dragon is burning Camelot to the ground," Arthur bit out.

Merlin's expression softened with understanding. "The dragon is gone, Arthur."

He frowned. "Do you really believe that?"

"I do," Merlin assured him. "I have a sense about these things."

But Arthur was already shaking his head. "Until we are sure, we cannot simply let our guard down. I must return to my men, and you must return to Gaius. He's being run ragged tending to so many of the injured," he said with a pointed look at his servant. "He requires your assistance."

Merlin glanced warily over his shoulder. "But Kilgharrah―"

"I will keep an eye on Kilgharrah," Arthur cut him short. "But our duty must come first."

"Yes, sire." Still, Merlin looked miserable.

Arthur clasped a firm hand against Merlin's shoulder. "Come, I will escort you to Gaius."

This time, Merlin followed him of his own volition.

It wasn't until they were nearing the council chambers currently serving as the infirmary, that Merlin finally spoke up again, voice low with apprehension.

"Do you still plan on seeking out the last dragonlord?"

Arthur paused. "Gaius has advised against it," he admitted, turning to him. "But dragon or no, my father insists on eliminating the last dragonlord."

Merlin stared at him, face deathly pale and eyes wide. "But…" he choked out, and then, with a sharp shake of his head, he said, "If you kill him and then the dragon returns…"

"That's exactly what Gaius pointed out," Arthur said. "Father is reluctant, but Gaius is right. The Dragonlord Balinor will remain our failsafe, should the dragon return. For now, we can only hope that they will not unite in a common goal to destroy Camelot."

Merlin's expression eased into something not quite relaxed, but more solemn, as they paused before the open doors of the council chambers. "No, that is not likely to happen at all."

Arthur's eyebrows arched in question. "Why do you sound so certain?"

"Gaius explained to me how the great dragon was captured," Merlin said. "From its perspective, Balinor is a traitor."

"I see," Arthur said, not fully understanding, but trusting Merlin enough to allow the fear tangled in his chest to abate. "You will have to elaborate at a later date. For now, go help Gaius."

"Yes, sire."

Arthur marched off, briefly pausing to observe a few of the other halls. Eventually, he caught a glimpse of Kilgharrah, settled into one of the old banquet halls, accepting a hot bowl of stew from Guinevere.

He looked different under the candlelight―thinner, paler. Like someone who'd spent far too long in the shadows of a dungeon cell. It was an appearance Arthur was all too familiar with.

Once Guinevere turned and caught sight of his gaze, Arthur beckoned for her to join him.

She carefully stepped around the people of the lower town settled across the hall and met him below the archway.

"That man you were speaking with―do you know who he is?"

Guinevere peeked over her shoulder. "Yes, I believe that's Kilgharrah, Merlin's elder brother."

"What do you think of him?"

"He's a bit gruff," she admitted, turning back to him. "But he doesn't seem all bad."

"Merlin would disagree," Arthur said flatly. "He believes Kilgharrah is dangerous. Be careful of him, and be sure to call for the guards if he becomes a threat to anyone's safety."

"Of course," Guinevere assured him, features drawing tight with concern. "I'll be on the lookout."

"Thank you," Arthur said. "I'll make the guards aware of the situation. Stay safe."

"I will."

Once Arthur pulled the guards aside and briefed them, he quickly made his way through the castle, climbing high until he reached the battlements up top.

"Sir Leon, has there been any new sightings?"

"No, sire," Leon reported, looking ragged even under the dim light of the moon.

"You're dismissed," Arthur said. "I'll take over from here."

"But sire―"

"Come daylight, we'll be scouting the Darkling Woods," Arthur spoke over him. "I'll need you to present yourself then. There's a chance we may have injured the dragon. If that's the case, we must complete the job, lest we give it any more time to recover its strength."

"Understood, sire."

Blatantly ignoring his own exhaustion, Arthur patrolled the battlements and made sure a rotation of the guard was put into effect. If they were to be at full strength come morning, he needed to be sure that his men had gotten a measure of rest. It might be the only opportunity to do so, before the beast were to return.

It was much later, when the moon was high in the night sky, that a guard rushed up to the battlements and reported to him.

"My lord, it's as you've said. That man―Kilgharrah. He has instigated an altercation with one of the servants."

A/N: This is an old plot bunny I found amongst my docs, so I thought I'd share! I'll be marking it as complete for now, but maybe I'll return and continue it a later date.

Let me know your thoughts please! :)