Merlin's head bobbed against Breachans shoulder.

"Hold on." Breachan pulled his horse to the side behind a tree and held out an arm. Gwendolen pursed her lips in a frown and pulled her reins to follow him out of sight.

"We don't know who pulled necromancy on your knight, but whoever it is is likely living coxy and protected in that castle. No one else would have the education."

"They're old. Say it father. No one has magic unless they're old." He frowned. "Tsst. That's untrue."

"It's not that untrue. If the magic isn't innocent kitchen work or play, it's undoubtedly been by a master, and all he masters learned their fill over twenty and five years ago."

"You can't fill the court with babes," said Breachan. "I'm staying with you for a few days. Get down, Merlin. Take the Queen from the horse."

Her fingers smoothed into his palm.

They approached the castle through a field of high grass. Several horses with unfamiliar banners were tied to posts far outside the Dragon's courtyard, and Aithusa was perched clawed over the broken wall outside the archways.

Breachan smiled. "It's Dyfed. They were too afraid to let their horses near. That means Cardell and the rest of the council held the court."

Merlin stayed close to the queen's ankles. "it means they were afraid of the Dragon eating their horses," he mumbled.

Gwendolen chuckled. "They'll be less afraid of the Dragon Lord. Stay close to me. The dragon has scales. You have a throat they can cut."

Merlin frowned.

The Great Hall glittered. Merlin caught sight of a passing glance at Breachan. Even the great, towering ceiling was clean. A group of several, including an old king with Dark hair and a greying beard, a slender young woman in a cascading purple dress and twelve knights and attendants. There were young women among them. And there was Cardell – the overseer of the court.

Cardell quickly beckoned Gwendolen to his side. She sped up and reached him with a glance at the king of 'Dyfed.'

"Majesty, it's not the proper time for visitors."

A knight stepped forward. "Sweet Queen," he bowed, "Great King Dyfed brings his soldiers in response to an ear that the Avalon Party was betrayed. He's fed and guarded your knights."

"Master Cardell, verification." She ordered.

Cardell bowed. "The castle stands unchallenged. The king seems to truly come in peace."

"If you've not come to take advantage of my naivety, what have you come for?"

Dyfed spoke for himself. He had a deep, gravel voice. "Trade. I hear you – "he reached for a goblet, disguising that he moved closer, "have magic. And not the little, trifling kind. I want to see the miracle of the Queen sworn to Avalon. And I wanted to see –"

She answered, "—The dragon."

"The Dragon Lord." He pumped his eyebrows.

She fell silent. "Oh, yes. The coronation," she said. Merlin gathered she feigned her confusion. "And thank you; your inclusion might be the only thing that kept my traitor from taking the kingdom."

The king bowed. "I'd expect you know your aunt and I to be rivals but I'd never let magical society fall."

She brushed her dress and looked between Merlin and Breachan. They'd parted in the Dragon Run under the towering, half-opened doors. "They're innocent. Not that they're not trying to take over the kingdom, but they're spread thin and came for the coronation, which didn't happen on time and touched their plans. Likely; I'm not sure what their plan was."

"If they're trying to take the kingdom, they've done it," said Merlin.

She shook her head, looking up at him. "That's harder than it seems. I'm necessary for the coming summer. Their crops will fail if I die."

Breachan folded his arms. "Right now, it's best to find your council."

She nodded. "Merlin, could you come with me?" She was already walking.

Merlin followed, shoulders tense.

She rounded into an open door the moment she was out of sight. "Lock the door with magic," she ordered.

Merlin narrowed his eyebrows, held out a hand and did so.

She whispered. "ġestill…" The sounds from the other side muffled and then faded into nothing.

The lingering scratching of the dragon died away. Merlin turned to her.

He ran a distressed hand through his hair and met her grimace.

"Rual was a secret when I was a child, there's no way Dyfed could have known about him," she explained, "or his personality. How did my father know there would be a coupe?"

Merlin blinked. "Oh."

"He knew he could control you because you entered the house. It has to be him, no disguises." She stared willfully into place. "You said you've seen necromancy before. Can you find out if my father is still alive?"

Merlin folded his arms and took a deep, recoiling breath.

The Council gathered. Merlin stood in the corner. Gillie, Dyfed, Meilyr – now the head knight, three guards, the Queen's maid, and all five High-Council Magistrates- had all survived.

She began her orders with her fingers stiff against the table. "Gillie. Help Merlin find who is still affected by the magic of our traitors."

The Great Hall was quickly stacked with the necessities of the coronation. The queen chose Meilyr to stay close to her at all times, planned an escape route with Gillie, and had Merlin feed the Dragon.

"Who are you?"

"Tor. I worked in your Aunt's kitchens."

"You fed the Dragon," she said.

"Yes," he said.
"You're from Gavant, the outer township?"

"Yes. I'm a Reikan, the family name."

She nodded. They were in the Dragon Courtyard. "I'm grateful. You'll see a higher pay this season."

Merlin stopped her as they left and opened a terry cloth, revealing cooked meat brought for Aithusa. "You don't have tasters," said Merlin coyly. "Don't eat during the feast. Eat this."

"I'm not a fan of dragon-seared meat," she said with a scrunched face. "This looks half raw."

Merlin breathed. "I keep a pot in my chamber for cooking. I'll cook it in front of you; just don't eat or drink anything around these people." He turned, tensed to Tor, who looked on with an insulted expression, but he quickly nodded and his face shaped in agreement.

Gwendolen cascaded with thin robe and gold so much it stirred the air when she jutted through the passageways. Cardell followed on her dress hem. "You're sure this is a good idea? We don't know this lad."

Her nose crinkled, "He could have killed me a dozen times and hasn't. I can't say that for the rest of the court. So, right now, I'll go with, 'tested.'"

The Great Doors opened, and the steward came to a stop beside her. He was a stern-looking man, but his cobalt eyes softened when he addressed her. His wrinkled eyes strayed on his scroll.

Merlin made clear of the crowd as the queen made her way down the Great Hall to the platform. He habitually fell into the shadows. But this time a young woman was already there.

Merlin huffed and recoiled back. She turned, and a different pale face revealed behind a cascade of loose black curls and a dark dress. He welled with relief to find a stranger; and not the now dead friend who had long become crazed with power and cost him everything. This wasn't Morgana; this was a different young woman.

"You must be the magic guard," she said.

Merlin peeled a sad smile. "The Dragon Lord."

"Oh," she breathed. "Good job, then. Best stay out of my Grandfather's sight."

"King Dyfed."

She smiled, "That's the Kingdom's name. His name is Reoch. He like's old things; a real stickler for tradition and stability."

Merlin lowered his head, "I bet he doesn't like his Grandaughter drinking so much wine," he said with a smirk.

She met him with eye contact. Then she aggressively downed as much from a loose pitcher as she could.

Merlin reached up and took it from her. "Alright. Alright." He said, gently. "Give me that. There. What happened?"

"What'd you mean? 'What happened?' He's clearly trying to take the castle for power's sake. For all his talk, there will be no one around in a hundred years to actually remember us and he wants this just to have his name on the wall for ending it."

"Ah, I see," said Merlin. "Well, I think we all pretty much know that." He set her in a chair.

Reoch lifted a goblet. And she gasped.

Merlin lifted his eyes above and watched a reflection on a glass disk Gillie had taken from the armoury. They had a Magic Trove. For them, no different than an armoury. But it was long out of use. The glass shimmered.

He smirked as the old man dropped his goblet and frowned. He covered his surprise. "I congratulate our dear princess and am but fortunate that I am here at the beginning of your long life as the Lady of the Gate. Apples, and sweet smell, and wine for all of us!"

The steward began his speech.

Merlin looked to his side to find the young woman, with slightly parted lips, glancing between him and the King of Dyfed.

"You're so young," she said. "You have such magic."

Merlin shrugged.

"You're the sorcerer," said the girl.

"What's your name," said Merlin.

"Gaineda."

Merlin squinted and approached conversationally. "I've heard of Dyfed. It's south of Camelot. But I thought the magic was banned there."

She tipped her head and looked up curiously. "It's banned everywhere Camelot can ruin." Then she quickly added, "Whether magic is forbidden or not."

Merlin tried to smile and play along. But her eyes were on him while he hid his fluster. "Camelot doesn't ruin," he said. "It's just a Kingdom."

Her chin tipped up. Her attention followed the distant king Dyfed as he laughed pretentiously, hiding his disappointment.

Merlin's eyes flicked to Gillie, who proudly raised a goblet.

"You live in a ruin, Dragon Lord."

She knew who he was.

He turned to look at her. He stared with breath caught.

Her eyes fluttered. "I think I'll tell no one. He's hapless, and he makes me angry."

"Does your grandfather have some business with the Dragon Lord?" he asked probingly. Maybe changing the subject a little would help, but he didn't feel he knew enough. She looked so like Morgana with her black hair.

The crowd erupted.

Suddenly Gwendolen, with her long gown and a new, intricate robe draped around her, smoothed gracefully into the middle of the long room. She looked alone in the gleaming white of the old room. She moved between glow, after glow; small orbed of magic light raised around her, lifting from her outstretched hands. It took a moment for Merlin to realize the magic wasn't just there, it was being fed directly by the girl. And the light around them was no daylight; it was nearly night; already dusk. It couldn't be that.

A bright shimmer spiralled up from the floor and hoisted itself around the bottom of the robe. It looked almost cozy, suddenly clinging like water to the bottom and spreading up like leaping reflective insects.

The magic burst suddenly. The room died into black, and then all left was Gwendolen's hand. It was cupped and pooled with light, it tipped slowly, only the palm visible, and the light trickled into an open brazier. The bottom reflected with the light dancing in the water, then the liquid caught fire. The room burst back into light and the crowd stirred. The torches on the walls didn't light right away.

Instead, the room went back into chatter. Gillie slowly and painfully awkwardly lights each torch.

Merlin excused himself.

He was glad to be out of the way. It was part of his plan to stay as far away from the newcomers as possible, and now their stunt had been expended at the Great Hall, and they'd properly tested, he enjoyed their flustered appearance.

He crossed his legs and hung them, climbing onto a beam above the Dragon Run and listening to the echoes up the walls of whispered conversations.

There were spells to help spies hear whatever they wanted, and Merlin had a feast of whatever he wanted to hear. He doubted even the court knew. While he spied, he picked cured meat from a little napkin and glanced out at the dragon through the arches. Aithusa had a new pelt ball, sewn from deer skin.

"Merlin?"

Merlin glanced down. The new queen peeked from behind a wall into the Dragon Run.

He brushed his hands and slipped away to meet her.

She found him.

He folded his arms and approached, meeting her where they wouldn't be seen by passing guards. '

She had a bright smile. Her eyebrows gathered sincerely, "Thank you."

He drew back; flustered. "Gillie did the work with the mirrors."

She nodded and squinted, pinning him with reverence. "You stopped their mischief," she said. "I'm grateful. I mean it." She nodded sincerely and moved out of the way.

"They'll try again," he said.

"I'm sure they will," she said.

She trailed out of sight, bowing her forehead as she vanished.

Merlin pushed his hair from his forehead and thought maybe she was a little different than she had been before. It was something about her disposition, something knowing, more refined. It was like the potency after alcohol is added to a tincture.

He stared at the passage in the silence of her leave.

A voice lit the silence. "You are the Dragon Lord," said the voice. A man approached wiping his sword. "Merlin paid careful attention to be sure the liquid was oil and not blood. The liquid was clear.

The man noticed and flashed the white cloth. "I hoped to find the Dragon Lord at feeding time, but the guards wouldn't let me pass. That Meilyr has a tenacity about him."

"The dragon doesn't eat in front of guests," said Merlin. Merlin circled so he was between the man and the dragon, just so the now curious Aithusa's long, white, perked head met the man's line of sight.

The man's cunning smile faltered. "I heard your dragon was an adolescent."

"—he is."

The man's eyes raised under his bowed brow. "Why would your young queen make light of such a force of might?" he wondered aloud. "When the truth could give so much inspiration?"

"You're disappointed," said Merlin.

"I'm not disappointed in the girl."

"—Queen," Merlin sharply corrected.

"Oh," he said, "I see." He took a few steps.

Merlin headed him off between the dragon.

The man firmed his stance. "I had hoped to make you an offer from the King directly. I'm the King's head guard and messenger."

"Your name?" said Merlin.

"you don't need my name."

Merlin pumped his eyebrows as he fell still. "Then I don't need your offer."

"—That's enough. Warann, I don't need your services. You weren't sent to goad the Dragon Lord."

"Appologies Majesty," said Warann. He glided away.

Merlin risked a glance back at the Dragon. Then he looked back at Dyfed.

The king was tall, with an imposing presence up close. He measured over Merlin in height and age, but that age didn't make him seem weak. Merlin knew the old man couldn't beat him in magic power, but he had the situation.

"You're no doubt accomplished to have survived so long a harboured fugitive in Camelot. A Dragon Lord? They'd have smashed your head in the cradle." He bowed his head darkly, "The young sorcerer that kept the mirrors in the Great Hall was barely able to light torches; I know damn well it wasn't him to defend this little kingdom."

Merlin held his ground. He kept still and kept his eyes on the King.

"You have more power than the Queen or her father. Impressive magic," he said, "you also have a taste for court."

"And I command the dragon," Merlin braved.

"And you command this kingdom," said Dyfed.

Merlin frowned; taken aback.

"You don't?" said King Reoch Dyfed, "if you asked anything of the young Queen, would she oblige?"

"She wouldn't," said Merlin carefully.

"Then you should get a taste for my Kingdom. We have much more skill in trade and magic, and we don't have to hide from Camelot to keep it. This is an island in a dying ruin of a forest. It doesn't deserve a Dragon."

Merlin let his eyes widen enough that the old king would notice his disapproval.

Dyfed sidestepped this.

"I can't leave Aithusa behind," said Merlin sharply. "You don't have the resources for my dragon. This kingdom has a courtyard, a tower, plenty of livestock and isolation." Merlin spoke a little louder, feeling braver. "This building has a 'Dragon Run.' It is built for him."

"In a year my people could build a dragon run."

Merlin stepped away. "And this kingdom would know what you're doing while I wait here raising the Dragon."

Dyfed put his hand on his pummel. "Come with me now," he said.
Merlin heard it wasn't a threat.

"Or you could come with me now," said the king. "Bring it," he ordered and two men stepped from the shadow holding a box. Whatever it was, it lay on a cupped mount with a plush bottom, and it was covered on top by a thick wool, stained blue with gold detail.

They pulled the cloth away and it spilt away from the surface of a stained, blood-crimson dragon egg. Its surface was intricate and gradient from red to black at it's bottom. The surface of the egg startled with it's brilliance, more so that the beacon of white Aithusa's egg was.

"My kingdom lies west of here. It's split between my father's brother and mine, but my half still stands."

Merlin barely heard him.

They covered the egg and departed.

"Of course, if you'd rather stay," he said. The king strode away.

Aithusa stood and lumbered closer to Merlin. Merlin stood still. A bird flicked it's wings high above and Aithusa's long neck curled around him in a graceful arc.

The bells clattered in a reverberating, cold and high ring. Merlin jolted upright.

He threw the blanket from him and went barefoot for the door wearing only the white shirt he kept for night clothing.

Aithusa stirred and a steam rose through one of the arches. He buckled to a wind like ice cold water.

He jumped back and a sharp, pale face met him with blue eyes. It was Gaineda in a gray blue cloak. Her candle had gone out.

"The bells ring for me. Let me in."

Merlin sighed. "Fine."

His fire lit as she strode in.

"My grandfather has made his offer," she said.

"Yes," he replied with a sullen smirk.

She nodded; realizing. "I'm glad you didn't take it."

"Merlin listen. I'm leaving tonight, and I don't want you to be my replacement. They don't know you have magic for sure, but that won't stop them. You'll be a wonderful replacement to his empire's fool."

He listened.

"You think yourself powerful," she said knowingly. "But even people with magic, even the absolute most powerful can be made to bend. He has ways of controlling it. Magic is almost a disadvantage to our enemies."

"What do you mean?"

"Would you rather fight people you didn't understand?" she said, "Or those you do?"

Merlin locked his door. "I have no fight with your grandfather."

"Then you'll be his slave like I am." She bowed her head, "And so will Queen Gwendolen."

"They call her Queen Argante now."

"The Silver Queen." Her eyebrows raised and her lips parted into a smile, "And she has magic." She silently indicated this could be the queen's downfall.

"What do you want me to do?" Merlin said.

She brought her hands together politely, and her hood fell away. "If my grandfather calls you to fight, do not use magic."

She faded from the room.

A group of men, capes flowing, moved in armour down the Dragon Run. They continued into the passage at the Great Hall. "You'll not wait until sunrise," the now darkly hooded King Reoch of Dyfed. "We take the young Dragon Lord from where he sleeps. Ignore the girl. We have what we want when the Silver Coronation ends."

"The Coronation party is over in three days. And ignore the queen?" The King's Head Guard set back with repugnance.

"Yes, yes, ignore them both. We don't need royalty or places of high status when we have dragons."

A page boy turned around the corner. "Majesty, the Dragon Egg is gone!"

Reoch growled. "GET GAINEDA, NOW!"

Meilyr and the Queen's knights headed off Dyfed and the small party. They surrounded them.

The King was kept with his party, in the same rooms the servants had cleared for them. While they were in their rooms another caravan approached on the Grounds, past the Pyre where Queen Sebile became sparks and where Merlin and Gwendolen first met.

This time, the doors directly into the Great Hall opened on the command of Queen Argente.

"You'll be disappointed, Gateman Grettir. I don't have much for eating."

The dwarf bowed. "Your Majesty Queen Argente," he said. His voice was odd, as he didn't say much usually, and hearing so many words together left a ringing sound in the ears. He held out an arm, "Queen Mag brings food. Magic welcomes itself back to Avalon Gate. Your servants will have plenty of good times greeting the families of the Valley's protection. May the Silver Queen keep the Gate for the next Thousand Years."

Merlin didn't dress. He climbed into the tall archways above the Dragon Run and watched as the still night welcomed thousands of magical creatures. Glittering banners finally rolled out, now wired with lines of silver in their borders.

"They knew what name I would have chosen," said Gwendolen with gasping wonder. She kept an alert eye on the world that came on horseback and gleaming saddles.

Human-height figures with angled faces and long dresses came in, some blinking at the grandeur of the Great Hall and some with magnificent wings of vibrant colours.

The cook, who'd come out of the kitchens for the light of the party, bowed beside Gwendolen with a wide grin, "That's the Fey, lovely, and that's the Pix. They're a great people even if Camelot's old scholars claim they're the servants of the Sihde." He drank a goblet with pink liquid, an unearned hiccup, and a giggle, and swung his long legs with a shudder from high above the Great Hall.

"Tor," said Gwendolen.

He pulled his face away from the delicate goblet. It was glass with a golden rim.

She smiled. "Get up. Come here."

He frowned and stood.

She directed him to look at the crowd, some of whom were a fist tall, and sparkling light, winged faeries. They kept away but watched and whispered as if keeping secrets like young girls at play. "Am I Fey?" she asked quietly. "C'mon," she noticed he didn't answer, "I know you were more than Queen Sebile's 'good friend."

Tor bowed his blond head. "The Fey are an old family. Their race was devised by many generations of humans and Sihde. There are some old families," he bowed, "races, like them. The Fey are the oldest."

"And?" she asked.
"Some say some sihde blood can be a source of the kind of magic that comes to a child so natural it's involuntary. But that doesn't make you one of them. It's unlikely you are descended or related to the Fey, but you could be related to other groups born from the Sihde."

She pulled her red hair to the side and absently twirled a thick strand around her finger. Her pale eyes danced between tors thoughtful white face and his waistline, expertly identifying a hidden pouch and a slipknot waist-tie, which held a sorcerer's tool – a wand, parallel with the floor.

He hiccupped and returned his attention to the court with the smile removed from his face.

Merlin slipped gracefully through the queen's window from the quiet of her baren courtyard while the excited Aithusa snapped at the magic lights floating about. His boots collided with her polished floor soundlessly. He pulled his bag away and put a small gift he'd been carving for more than a month on her little table.

"My father's only gift to me was a carved animal. I've made you the same. Become everything you are meant to be."

Beneath, Merlin marked his signature with a scribble of a sketched dragon.

Gaineda had gone, presumably with the Dragon egg, and Merlin could hardly care. He didn't tell Gwendolen; she didn't need to know.

Merlin slyly commanded the dragon Aithusa away.

Gillie opened the doors.

The arches High above the Dragon Run were a good perch for watching the troop leave, and by then another kingdom had filled the Halls, and Mab's alliances weren't thrilled about letting old Kingdom Dyfed play politics with their sacred symbol.

He retired to his room and threw himself on the sumptuous bedding. His eyes flicked to a spray of sparks and a blue glow at his window. He pulled the curtain and ignored it.