"Are you sure he's still in the city?" Hermione asked Balinor for the third time that morning. They had risen with the sun and already started on the path towards Camelot, Balinor leading the way.
Balinor however was patient. "Yes," he replied. "I am certain."
"But why has he stayed?" Ron asked. "What's he planning?"
"I'm not sure he's planning anything," Harry said. His eyes were straight ahead, focused on the road before them that led to Camelot. "I can't feel anything." He glanced at Balinor and then lowered his voice. "If he was planning on changing the timeline, I think I'd know. I get this feeling when bad stuff is about to happen, so surely I should know already?"
"Then why is he in the city at all?" Hermione asked.
"Reliving the past," Luna said quietly.
Harry turned back to the road. Despite his internal assurance that Merlin wasn't about to expose them all, he couldn't help but feel a pit of worry in his stomach. Forget it, he told himself. Have faith.
The path they were on opened out as it emerged from the trees and swerved to the left, following the course of a narrow ridge that led to the valley floor. Now that the trees were gone, the view before them was unobstructed. All six people from the future stopped in amazement. Camelot was before them.
Harry had seen a portrait of Camelot before in Hogwarts, he'd even been to its ruins before, but nothing could have prepared him for this. The painting had captured the glorious nature of the castle, but not the sparkling brilliance it had underneath the sun's early morning rays, the fluttering flags on its turrets, the sounds, even from this distance of being going about their business. It was magnificent. He felt a change inside of him, a feeling of recognition on a soulful level. This was home.
"It's beautiful," said Ginny beside him, her eyes aglow. "Better than I had imagined."
Nods of agreement met her words, and Harry couldn't help grinning.
Balinor was staring at them all. "Have you never been to a city before?" he asked them bemusedly. "I assure you, there are cities even grander than this."
"There aren't any better than this," said Hermione, though quietly, so he couldn't hear. "Think of what happens to this place, what it becomes. It's a beacon of hope and tolerance for centuries to come."
Balinor just shook his head, and continued down the path, muttering something about foreigners. Harry tore his eyes away from the vision before him and began to follow.
"Come on," he said to the others. "We can't stare at it all day. We need to find Merlin."
Their journey down to the front gates took less time than he had thought, and soon they were passing guards wearing the Pendragon crest Harry recognised from the apparitions of Arthur and his Knights he had encountered, and then they were inside.
It was busier than he had thought, more cramped and noisy, with a less than pleasant aroma lingering in the air, but none of that mattered. He found himself looking from left to right as eagerly as he had on his first ever trip to Diagon Alley, trying desperately to take everything in. He saw all manner of people, selling all manner of things in the market, strange sights and smells greeting his senses as they pushed their way through the bustling crowd. All the while he tried to compare this with the silent hillside he knew of as Camelot in his own time, but refused to believe it was the same place. How could somewhere like this vanish so easily. It was so full of life.
Now he saw how busy it was, he began to despair of finding Merlin in the crowd. Balinor led them down a small side street and gathered them all around them.
"I shall wait here in the market," he told them. "Something tells me I should not come with you any further."
"But how are we supposed to find him?" Ron asked.
"He's in the royal courtyard. Just sitting there. I do not know why."
"You can track him down as precisely as that?" Hermione asked.
Balinor looked troubled at her words. "Yes," he said slowly. "It's strange … Our abilities allows Dragonlords to track down people, but usually such precise locations are limited to people that the Dragonlord knows extremely well. I wouldn't say that about myself and Malcolm. The only other exceptions are blood relations."
Harry and the others glanced at each other in alarm. Luna stayed calm however.
"Well, you are kin, aren't you?" she said. "Aren't all Dragonlords distantly related?"
"I suppose," said Balinor, though not looking convinced.
"We should get going," Harry said, wanting to turn this particular conversation in a different direction. "Which way is the royal courtyard?"
After Balinor had given them such hasty instructions, they hurriedly pressed their way through the crowds, following the long winding route that led up to the palace. As they drew closer, Harry looked upwards at the castle, drinking in every detail. This had been Merlin's home once. The idea was a strange one.
The courtyard was before them, and surprisingly, there were quite a number of the townspeople milling around. They seemed to be waiting for something. Harry scanned the courtyard quickly, taking in the impressive façade of the castle and searching for Merlin. Was he inside of the palace?
"There!" cried Luna, and she darted off into the crowd, the others following quickly. They pushed through some annoyed looking people, until they cleared, and Harry could see a well before him. Merlin was sitting on the small wall that surrounded it. He was staring straight ahead, a melancholy look on his face.
"OI!" Merlin started, as Ron stormed towards him. "What are you doing here, you bloody idiot? You scared us all half to death!"
"Sorry," said Merlin, and Harry was surprised to see he didn't look defensive at all. In fact, he looked genuinely sincere, even a little guilty. "I was going to come back last night, but then I felt my father searching for me, so I guessed you'd all be here sooner or later. I wanted you to see it."
"What are you doing here, Merlin?" Hermione asked. "You haven't-"
Merlin laughed, and shook his head, and Harry was astonished to see a genuine smile on his face. "No, though I wanted to. You don't need to worry. I was an idiot, to all of you. You were right. I think it took finally coming back here for me to realise that."
"So, you're not going to try and change the timeline?" Malfoy asked. "Why? Don't you want to make things better?"
Merlin met his eyes. "Things are the way they are meant to be," he said. "I fought it for a long time, but I see the truth now. I'm sorry for everything. I've been pushing you to accept your family's past and move past it, but not doing the same myself. I was a hypocrite."
"You mean, you're not going to try and find another way to fight the Liberators?" Harry asked, hardly daring to believe it.
"No," said Merlin, smiling again. "I've realised what I need to do now." He looked around, and sighed slightly. "I deluded myself into thinking that Camelot was this perfect place, both before and after the Purge, but that wasn't the case at all. There was fear and hatred here even before magic was outlawed, and now that I think about it, even those years I spent in Camelot as Court Sorcerer weren't perfect. We had enemies back then as well, people who were angry at magic being legalised again. Peace doesn't always mean the same thing." He paused for a moment. "I should have been happy with the situation back in 1999. I couldn't just let myself live in the moment. I was chasing a dream, a dream I now realise didn't exist even back here. The Old Religion had returned, I should have focused on that. Just because we had some problems shouldn't have meant I gave up."
"But I thought you hated the fact that you'd never get to see Muggles and wizards living side-by-side again, like you remembered?" Hermione asked.
"Things are never the way we remember," said Merlin. "I idealised Camelot, and I forgot or just ddidn't just care about the problems that had existed here as well. I see it now. A time of peace can never be achieved when Muggles and sorcerers are forced to live side-by-side. The only reason we had any peace, is because the two sides came together willingly. Me and Arthur wanted peace, and that's why it worked, and why it won't work in 1999. More time is needed. What we have to ensure in the future is that the means to peace are preserved, so that when the day comes, we will be ready. And hopefully, so will the Muggles as well."
"And what caused this revelation?" Harry asked, though a smile was spreading across his face, understanding now why he had not felt dread when coming here.
Merlin also smiled. "I remembered how to listen to the Old Religion, just like you said."
They looked at each other for a moment, the silence broken a second later by Ron swearing loudly.
"You couldn't have figured this out before we trekked out here after you?"
"Then you wouldn't have got to see Camelot," Merlin said. "What do you think of it?"
"It's incredible," said Harry, looking around again. "It's actually like being inside one of the legends."
Merlin nodded, and looked away, focusing his eyes on the spot he had been looking at when they had arrived. "See that window there?" he asked, pointing. "The second one to the left? That was my bedroom when I first arrived here."
The others followed his gaze, and they all looked interested, though the window itself looked pretty nondescript. Then Merlin's hand dropped and he nodded at the door directly across from them, where several people were standing.
"That man there, standing in the doorway," he said, "with the long hair and satchel over his shoulder. That's … that's Gaius."
Everyone turned to him eagerly, and Harry saw an older man with fair hair and a kind face smiling as he spoke to the friends around him. Even from this distance Harry could tell there was something magical about him, though the man betrayed no sign of it.
"Oh, Merlin ..." Hermione said, but Merlin shook his head, smiling for some strange reason.
"Seeing him again isn't as painful as I thought," he said. "Gaius died an old, old man. I have no regrets as far as he is concerned. I'm just happy to see him. I've never seen him without white hair and a frown before!"
"Who are the others, do you recognise them?" Ginny asked, and Merlin's smile grew, though a distinct sadness was in his eyes.
"Some," he said. "Though I can't remember all their names. That man to his right is Geoffrey of Monmouth, he wrote down a lot of the legends. Jazzed them up slightly though. Next to him is Sir Leon's father. I didn't know him well, he died not long after I arrived in Camelot actually, and I can't remember his name. I only know who he is because he looks so much like Leon. And the woman on Gaius' left," Merlin stopped here for a moment, fixing his eyes on her with a huge grin. "That's my mother."
"Your mother?" repeated Harry, staring at the woman, amazed he hadn't seen the family resemblance before. While like Balinor in expression and demeanour, Merlin had his mother's raven black hair, sparkling blue eyes, and the same smile. She was young, and beaming with happiness as she talked to Gaius.
"She used to come visit Gaius before I was born," Merlin said, watching her with a fond expression. "He's a distant relative or something; you know, one of those people you know you're related to but you aren't quite sure how. The visits stopped when I arrived though. She didn't want to risk it, what with my magic and all, especially as I couldn't always control it. I've never seen her so happy, she was always so worried about me. I'm glad I got to see her once again."
"She's beautiful," said Luna, placing one of her hands on Merlin's shoulder. "I'm glad to have seen her."
Merlin nodded, still watching her. "I've been here for hours," he admitted. "Stayed at an inn last night, and then hung around here hoping to see Gaius before I left. They've been standing there for ages."
"What is everyone waiting on?" Malfoy asked, looking around at the growing crowd.
"It's an annual festival," Merlin explained. "To mark the foundation of the city. The lords and ladies, as well as some of the locals ride out or walk around the boundaries of the city, to inspect them and make sure the city is ready for attack. There's a celebration in a local meadow afterwards. It's usually just an occasion for everyone to get as drunk as possible." He stopped speaking and frowned. "It means I can more precisely date where we are exactly in the timeline. Arthur will be born in less than two weeks."
"Two weeks?" Hermione asked. "What if we don't get the spell from the High Council in time? Will we be stuck here during the Purge?"
"I don't think so," said Merlin. "We won't be here that long."
Before Harry could ask him any further questions, there began a sounding of trumpets that almost deafened him. The crowd began to part, and the sounds of horses hooves became louder.
A loud bellowing voice rang out over the crowd. "Make way for King Uther and Queen Ygraine!"
Harry's stomach leapt, and he watched in astonishment as two horses, each with finely decorated reins and saddles passed them. King Uther first caught his attention. He was tall, and proud, a crown set firmly upon his brow, and he lifted his hand to the now cheering crowd, but did not smile, just acknowledged them with a cool nod of his head. His face was not particularly unkind, but Harry could easily imagine it twisted in a cruel hateful expression. He shuddered.
The horse beside him however, bore a much more agreeable personage. The woman, blonde and happy, waved to the crowd enthusiastically, accepting small bouquets of flowers from the peasant women who approached her horse. A servant led her horse, and she sat side-saddle, one hand on her reins, and the other resting on a large belly.
"Is Arthur in there?" Ron asked in amazement, and Merlin rolled his eyes.
"Unless he had an evil twin I don't know about."
"Blimey," said Ron, as though he'd never seen a pregnant woman before.
"Just look at him," Hermione said, her eyes fixed on Uther. "Can you believe all the evil things he'll do in the future?"
"I can't believe she'll be dead in less than two weeks," said Ginny. "It's so unfair. She looks so happy."
Merlin said nothing at this, and watched the two of them pass by with expressionless eyes. But his face darkened when he saw the next figure.
Harry looked back at the procession, and saw another young woman, this one dark haired and pale with bright red lips. His skin crawled as he looked at her. He didn't like the way she looked at the crowd, the glint in her eyes. As she drew closer, he felt the power that she possessed; Old Magic, strong and wild, twisted for the wrong reasons.
"Nimueh," said Merlin, though Harry had already guessed as much. He laughed darkly. "I wish I could stick around for another twenty years to see the look of surprise on her face once more when I defeated her. All of this, it's down to her. She's pure evil, and she's not like Morgana, turned evil by circumstance and years of fear and hatred. No, she's evil just for the fun of it."
"And still the High Council are pretending that she's back all cosied up in the Inner Sanctum on the Isle of the Blessed," said Ron, looking at her in disgust. "Why didn't they try and stop her? Why aren't they trying to get her away from Camelot?"
"Because the damage has already been done," Merlin said, watching her with an almost dangerous expression.
He didn't say another word for the duration of the procession, though every so often a spark of recognition would cross his face at another noble person on horseback. Eventually, the courtyard began to clear, as most of the townspeople decided to follow their leaders. As the crowd dissipated, they saw Balinor coming towards them. Merlin leapt to his feet immediately.
"I'm glad they've found you," he said to Merlin as he approached. "They worried about you, and so did I."
"You did?" Merlin asked.
"Yes, though why I feel such a connection, I do not know," Balinor said, examining Merlin closely, his eyes so intense. He broke the look however, both of them evidently uncomfortable, and instead gestured back to the procession. "Uther is a dangerous man these days," he said darkly. "The crimes he has begun to commit against our people do not bode well. And there I see Lady Nimueh riding behind him! It is true what they said, one of the High Council has betrayed our Order. We should leave. We've got to get back and tell everyone."
"Should we?" said Hermione. "I mean …"
Harry could tell what she was thinking. Would the knowledge that Nimueh was in Camelot and not in the Isle change the past? Would it make the Druids more likely to act? Or would it make no difference at all? Bringing Balinor may not have been the greatest idea. Yet, no alarm bells were ringing in his mind.
"It'll be fine," Harry said, looking directly at her, letting her know he understood her fears. "Balinor is right. Things have been set in motion and can't be undone." After all, he thought, Arthur was ready to be born soon anyway. Removing Nimueh could not change that. "We should leave. That is, if you're ready?" he said, looking at Merlin.
Merlin spent one last long minute looking around the courtyard, and then looking back at Gaius and his mother, who had begun to follow the crowd. He watched them wistfully for a moment before nodding. "I'm ready."
Balinor nodded, and began to lead them away. As they moved into the crowd, Harry saw Balinor turn his head curiously and stare at something. When he followed his gaze, he realised he was looking at Hunith.
"Come on," said Harry, pushing him from behind, realising he had slowed his pace to look at her. "We need to get back. There'll be plenty of time to introduce yourself to her in the future."
Balinor looked at him strangely, but did so, casting one glance back at her. She looked up at that moment, and for a second their eyes met, and then they were lost in the crowd. Harry looked to his left, and saw Merlin also watching. A small smile was playing across his lips. He met Harry's eyes and grinned. "Not every day you get to see your parents meeting," he whispered gleefully.
Harry smiled, amazed at the transformation in Merlin from the day before. None of them had wanted Merlin back in Camelot, worried about the effect it would have on him. What none of them had realised however, that Camelot may have been the very thing that Merlin had needed to save him from his depression.
The eight of them met up outside of Camelot at the spot where Harry and the others had evidently left Fawkes, but as soon as the phoenix had seen them he had swooped over the Merlin, nuzzled him affectionately in greeting for a moment and then disappeared. It seemed that he had no intention of transporting them back to the Isle of the Blessed. Instead, they travelled by magic themselves as far as they were able, before the protective enchantments prevented them going any further. From this point, it was at least another days journey.
Merlin didn't mind. He even enjoyed himself, despite the long walk. It was as if for the last several weeks, months even, he had been walking around with heavy chains around his neck that dragged him deep into the earth, but now they had been removed. His thoughts took on a much lighter tone, his body felt lighter and freer and he began to recognise his old self once more.
He was still sad, in a way; seeing his parents, mentor and old home without being able to appreciate it fully was still painful, but bearable, and for the first time, he also found the happiness as well. He had seen them again, he had walked the streets of Camelot once more. Years of regret seemed like nothing now. He now felt surer of himself than he had in a long time. The Old Religion had brought him back here for a reason, and now he saw it.
The others chatted animatedly about what they had seen in Camelot, sometimes coming close to revealing a little too much within Balinor's hearing. He himself looked intrigued at what they were discussing; Merlin could tell he was confused by their eager interest in what appeared to the rest of the world as a normal royal pregnancy, one that didn't even affect them in any way. He was far more concerned with Nimueh, and Merlin could see the burden this knowledge had on him. He interjected in the conversation every so often, speculating as to how and why Nimueh had managed to worm her way into Camelot, all of them trying hard not to reveal the truth. Balinor seemed to realise this.
Merlin caught Balinor staring at himself more than once, a keen look in his eye that had never been there before. He examined him intently, and Merlin was more than a little uncomfortable.
They rested that night by a small brook, uncomfortably as none of them had thought to pick up supplies in Camelot. As Merlin sat by the brook, Balinor approached him.
"Shall we resume your training?"
Merlin saw the strange look in his father's eyes, and stood up.
They ran through some spells, locating people and performing other acts whilst drawing upon their Dragonlord magic. Merlin found little difficulty with any of it, and thoroughly enjoyed himself; the weight that had been lifted from him had somehow also affected his magic, making it more powerful than before. The others sat on the ground watching.
"Excellent, remarkably so. Now, let us practice Dragonsight," Balinor said, still watching him curiously. "Ask me three questions, and I shall give you two truths and one lie. Go."
Merlin obliged, entering the state of Dragonsight much more easily than he had before. He stared at Balinor, seeing the now clear as day aura that surrounded him. He pondered which questions to ask.
"Where were you born? What was the name of your father?" Merlin asked first, wanting some more harmless information about his father's life. But he wanted more besides. "And, what is your worst fear?"
Balinor frowned a little at the last question, and sighed before answering. "I was born in a village called Theoron." Merlin nodded, that was the truth. "My father's name was Aelthrath." Another truth. "My worst fear is dying without making a difference to the people that I love."
Merlin watched his father's aura for a few moments before responding, his heart a little saddened. "That wasn't a lie," he said, "but it wasn't fully true either. Your worst fear is that everything you hold dear will be lost, and you will not have done enough to save it. That the world will forget about you because you failed in your task."
Balinor nodded. "Do you think that will be my fate?"
Merlin looked away, a little discomfited. "I'm not sure."
"You looked into my future once," Balinor said. "You said that you saw pain there and death. Do you think it is my destiny to die a lonely bitter old man who has lost everything?"
Merlin did not answer, sensing the others watching closely. Balinor laughed softly. "What would you know of the future after all," he said. "I do not intend to die thus, Malcolm. I will die protecting what I love."
"Yes, I believe you will," Merlin answered, trying hard not to let the emotion show, let Balinor see the memories that were playing in front of his eyes at this moment.
"Let's swap for a moment, shall we?" Balinor said, stepping closer. "I shall ask the questions this time. Do you agree?"
Merlin nodded, his eyes fixed on his father's, not heeding Hermione's panicked intake of breath.
"Very well," Balinor responded, and began the spell. He focused entirely on Merlin. "What is your name? What year were you born? What is your true purpose here?"
The others were now staring wide-eyed, and a little unsure, but Merlin stayed calm. He knew Balinor was no fool. He had guessed at their true natures.
"My name is Malcolm," Merlin answered. "I was born twenty-three years ago. My true purpose here … I came to right a wrong. To learn how to fight against an evil. I came to discover my true purpose and once more find my place in the world. I came to learn about myself, to have faith once more. Above all, I came so that the people I care about will be protected, and the world I love not fall to darkness."
Balinor and Merlin stared at each other for several moments, and Merlin could almost hear the others holding their breaths. Suddenly, Balinor smiled.
"That was two lies and one truth," he said. "I don't think you quite understood the rules."
Merlin also smiled, and the others breathed a sigh of relief. Balinor mentioned for Merlin to move closer, away from the small group. They stood on the banks of the little river, and Balinor turned to look at him.
"Did you find what you were searching for in Camelot?" he asked.
"I did, and more," Merlin answered. "I stopped being so bitter and hopeless. I've realised what I am supposed to do."
"I am glad," Balinor answered. "I … I worried for you. Throughout our lessons, I had sensed that you felt lost, abandoned by your faith and you despaired of ever finding peace once again. Have you found it now?"
"Not quite, but I know how I can," Merlin said. He looked over at his father. "You fear for the future of our people," he said. "What will you do if what you fear comes to pass?"
"I think you are perhaps better placed to tell me that than I," Balinor responded. "I saw as much when I just asked you when you were born. I did not prod further than needed, but I learned enough to finally be sure of my suspicions. You are not exactly from this place, are you?" Merlin remained silent, and Balinor laughed again. "Don't worry, I shan't question you much further. Just tell me, do I lose all hope? Do I become that lonely bitter old man?"
Merlin paused a moment. "You give it your best shot," he murmured. "But you find your way again, before the end."
"And we know each other," Balinor pressed, "where you are from."
"Yes, we do," Merlin said, now looking down at the ground, almost overcome with emotion. He felt the Old Religion pushing him ever further. He knew this information would be safe to give, even if Hermione would not approve.
"Will you give me no clues?"
Merlin laughed, knowing that he could not reveal much more than this. "Ealdor," he said simply, meeting his father's eyes. "That is all I shall say."
Balinor looked like he wanted to know more, but managed to control his curiosity. "Thank you," was all he said. And together, the two of them stood, listening to the sounds of the night for what felt like hours.
The Isle of the Blessed seemed much the same as when they had left it two days previously, and for the first time, Merlin did not look at it with a heavy grief in his heart. He could do nothing about the oncoming slaughter, but he wasn't about to let himself waste away thinking about it. What happened had already happened by his perspective. There was no point in pining for what was. He should have learned that after all these years.
"I can't wait to get inside and finally get a good kip," said Ron, yawning. He hadn't taken kindly to sleeping on the ground with no blankets.
"You can go if you want, but there's something I need to do first," Merlin said. "Something I should have done ages ago."
The others exchanged glances, but asked no questions, and they followed him into the castle and into the central courtyard, where Niamhrach lay. She lifted her head as they entered, and Merlin sensed a great satisfaction coming from her.
"You have returned, and all the better for your journey I sense," she said, her eyes sparkling. "Thank you, Lord Balinor, but this is a conversation we must have alone."
Balinor stopped in surprise, and looked uncertainly at Merlin and the others before bowing and leaving. As soon as he was gone, Merlin stepped closer to her.
"I've been an idiot," he said to her. "I refused to listen to the Old Religion because I didn't like what it was telling me, and it could have had dire consequences. I have accepted what I must do now. I am only sorry it has taken me so long."
"Time is never an obstacle," she said in reply.
Merlin took a deep breath. "You said I'd have to accept myself before you could ever accept me. That there had to be no dishonesty between us. Well, I'm ready to finally be honest."
Harry and the others looked slightly alarmed, but Merlin was certain of what he had to do.
"My name is Merlin Emrys," he said, making sure he was meeting the dragon's large eyes. "I will be born in less than two years time in a village called Ealdor to a woman named Hunith and a Dragonlord named Balinor. It's my destiny to restore peace to the lands of Albion, and I do it in many years time. I remain immortal however, and the Old Religion goes into decline until one day, more than thirteen hundred years from now I meet these people, and together we defeat our enemies and restore Old Magic to the world. But I wasn't content, and couldn't or wouldn't believe in peace any more. I wanted more and I was blind to what I should have been doing instead. So, we came back here to right the wrongs that I helped create in the future. I need a spell from the High Council, and then we need to get back to the future. I need to have faith in myself once again, not ignore the happiness that I had found there, not ignore the dragons of my own time, but finally be at peace. Is that enough for you?"
Niamhrach stared at him for several moments, her beautiful large eyes blinking slowly. A deep rumbling noise came from within her, and Merlin realised she was laughing.
"It is more than enough, Emrys," she said. "Your journey here to the past has not been in vain. You have learned what you needed to."
"And so have I."
Merlin turned, and then to his horror, saw Rhona standing there. It appeared as if she had been standing behind one of Niamhrach's enormous legs. Her healing supplies fell from her hands. She was staring at Merlin as if he had just grown two new heads.
"I knew there was something funny about you boy!" she said, her face set in a deep frown. "The future? You have lied to us all. You know what darkness lies ahead, and yet you have refused to tell us, or help us to fight it!"
"Don't blame him!" Harry said, coming to stand by his side. "It wasn't his fault."
"It's alright, Harry," Merlin said. Niamhrach had allowed her to listen in for a reason, the same way Aithusa had allowed Hermione to listen in when Merlin had been discussing his true identity so many months before. "She won't tell anyone."
"Won't I?" snarled Rhona. "And why not? You've neglected all of your duties and betrayed our trust. Why should I keep your secret?"
"Because we're family," Merlin said simply.
"If you're talking about how all Dragonlords are kin," Rhona said, "you needn't bother. You don't deserve the title-"
"I wasn't," said Merlin, smiling, despite her obvious antagonism. "Didn't you listen to who I said my father was?"
The anger on Rhona's face disappeared suddenly, and was replaced with wide-eyed shock. "Wait," she said, blinking furiously. "That means-"
"You're my great-aunt," Merlin said, enjoying the dumbfounded expression on her face. "'Great-aunt Rhona'. Has a nice ring, don't you think?"
Rhona was still in shock, and Merlin couldn't help but laugh. Two familiar presences appeared behind him, and he turned to see High Priest Findan and High Priestess Melian standing there.
"Is it time?" Merlin asked.
"It is," said Melian, smiling. "You have proved your worth to us. Come now to the Inner Sanctum, and there you and your companions may make your request of us."
Merlin grinned, and followed the two sorcerers as they left the courtyard, his heart leaping. Now they could finally fix the mess that they had left back in the twentieth century. He'd had to truly believe in his mission before they would allow him access.
He turned back the courtyard as he left, seeing Rhona still standing there, her face slack with astonishment.
"Did you know this?" Rhona asked Niamhrach weakly. "That he was my great-nephew?"
"Of course," Merlin heard Niamhrach say as they were almost out of site.
"Then why did you let me treat him like that?"
"To help you see that we should always respect each other, for we do not know what secrets they are clutching to their chest. It is time you stopped being resentful for not being a Dragonlord and instead do something to help preserve our race in the future."
Merlin did not see Rhona's reaction, but he smiled to himself. He might not be able to tell his father who he was, but this seemed the next best thing.
He hoped they could reconcile before they left.
A/N: I'm now posting these chapters as fast as possible to make up for the months I never updated!
The Camelot 'festival' I mentioned in this chapter is actually based on one that's held in my local town for the last nine hundred years or so, when King David I stated the town's inhabitants had to inspect the boundaries every year, which has transformed now into a week long celebration. Since this story takes place just four hundred years earlier I thought it wasn't hugely unlikely other towns like Camelot might have a similar tradition :)