Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One hunting trip.

That’s all Arthur wanted. One trip that didn’t involve dangerous magical creatures or bandits or other non-traditional hindrances. For once he would like for his biggest problems to be a damp bedroll.

But no, it could never be that easy. Arthur’s camp was long forgotten as he dangled from the claws of the dragon. He’d woken up to see a dark figure standing over him and the next thing he knew he was dangling hundreds of meters in the air with a pounding headache.

Of course, he had struggled at first, but then the dragon told him if he didn’t stop squirming it would drop him. Arthur stopped immediately.

“My knights will come to get me,” Arthur said, for the fifth time, although he didn’t sound quite as confident as before.

The dragon snorted. “Of course they will.”

“Where are you taking me?” He asked, looking around. Once he got over the extreme height and realized that the dragon probably wasn’t going to drop him (at least right away) Arthur began to become more concerned with why he’d been kidnapped in the middle of the night.

The dragon seemed to consider this question for a few moments. “Okarthel,” it finally answered. “My home.”

“My father will lay siege to your grimy old cave unless you let me go.”

“Let you go?” The dragon sounded amused. “Perhaps I can just drop you off-”

Arthur made a noise somewhere between a startled gasp and a squeak as the dragon lifted one of his large claws from his shoulders.

“No!” He shouted. “That is-no, that is most definitely not what I meant.”

The dragon chuckled as they flew on in silence. A couple of hours passed before Arthur gathered up the courage to speak again.

“Are we there yet?” He asked. Arthur could almost feel the irritation from the great beast coming off in waves. He was going to make this kidnapping as unpleasant as he could. “How much longer?”

Despite his best efforts, the dragon ignored him. “We’re here!” It said after a while. “Welcome to the great caves of the North! Aren’t they beautiful?”

To Arthur, they just looked like boring old mountains. “I can’t even see the caves.”

The dragon muttered something under its breath that sounded along the lines of “blind humans” in an irritated tone before swooping down closer to the trees blanketing the land around them. Two more dragons swooped up to meet them, one noticeably smaller than the others.

“There’s more of you?” Arthur almost choked. He thought his father had done his best to rid the land of the beasts. Dragons were supposed to be extinct.

“Of course there are, silly. We’ve just been hiding,” the dragon carrying him responded. His rumbly voice sounded almost like he was laughing at Arthur.

“Emrys!” The smaller dragon shouted happily. It flapped its bright green wings up to the dragon carrying Arthur. Emrys made a pleased rumbling noise in his chest.

“Have you seen my father, Mordred?” Emrys asked, playfully nudging the small dragon.

“He’s hunting, he should be back soon.” The tiny dragon’s eyes swiveled back to Arthur, who was dangling from Emerys’ giant claws looking extremely disgruntled. “Is that the human prince? The one who-“

“Yes,” interrupted Emrys. “I brought Prince Arthur like Father asked.”

“Balinor will be pleased,” the other dragon responded as they flew through the canyon. “Although I have to admit, he looks tasty. Are you sure we couldn’t have a little snack before-“

“No! You can’t eat him. I promised I wouldn’t hurt him.”

Well that’s nice, thought Arthur, seeing as he felt bruises forming where Emrys’ talons had been digging into his shoulders for a few hours. The sun was starting to rise as dawn approached, and someone was going to realize he was missing sooner or later.

Arthur really hoped it was sooner.

----

Merlin frowned at the human. In his dragon form he towered over him, yet this strange creature seemed to think that he was the one in charge.

“Do you ever stop talking?” Merlin asked, squinting at the prince. “For something so small you make a lot of noise.”

The prince didn’t seem to like that as his face became splotchy and red.

“You-you can’t talk to me like that!”

“Why not? I just did,” Merlin mused. “Is it a spell of some sort that keeps people from saying their honest opinion to you? I don’t think it’s working very well or maybe dragons are immune-”

“Because I’m a prince!”

Merlin had never heard of a hereditary spell in princes and lines of royalty like that. It sounded exactly like the pointless sort of enchantment humans would waste magic on.

“How does it work?”

Arthur seethed. “You respect me because…” He seemed stumped for a moment. “Because I’m the future ruler! ”

“That doesn’t sound like a very useful enchantment. I mean, don’t you think it would be detrimental to your reign if none of your subjects could tell you the truth about your rule?”

He didn’t say anything but continued to glare at the dragon.

“Wux re vi diwhafup moxt munthrek,” Merlin muttered to himself. They were in his own cave. He was waiting for his father to come back and tell him why he had to kidnap the prince of Camelot. The king despised anything remotely resembling magic (dragons were most definitely included on that list), so he couldn’t understand why Balinor wanted to antagonize him more by taking his son. It was like he was asking for an invasion from Camelot.

Merlin was tired. He’d hidden in human form as he tracked the prince’s hunting group, then had to wait until all of the knights fell asleep until he could kidnap Arthur.

The multiple shifts and the long flights had made him exhausted. He turned around in a circle a few times before laying down, resting his large head on his claws.

The cave fell into silence. Arthur and Merlin stared each other down, neither willing to break first.

“This is ridiculous,” Arthur finally said. “Why am I even here? This isn’t some twisted princess in the tower story, is it?”

Merlin snorted. “Trust me, you weren’t kidnapped for your looks,” he muttered.

“I heard that.”

“Good,” he retorted. “I wanted you to.”

Arthur threw up his hands. “I haven’t even done anything to you!”

The dragon growled, raising itself to its full height. “Never done anything?” It asked menacingly. “Your father has made it his mission to eradicate magic. He murders children in cold blood because they were born with a gift they had no say in. He kills any with even the possibility of possessing magic. The senseless slaughter of magical creatures has led to the extinction of multiple species, forcing all of the others to go into hiding. Why do you think we stay crowded up here in the North? There are so few of us because the humans forced the dragonlords to kill us all.”

He shut his eyes, remembering the screams from all those who had been sent to the pyre. It hadn’t exactly been a pleasant soundtrack to his childhood, he thought.

“I am aware that my father’s punishments can be... overly harsh, but it’s for the good of the kingdom! Magic corrupts, and you must pull the weed out before it chokes out the other plants.”

The dragon did not look angry, only resigned. “Did your father tell you that?”

Arthur didn’t answer.

A green head popped from the mouth of the cave.

“Emrys! Your father wants to see you,” it said, its voice was unusually high for a dragon Arthur thought.

“Thank you, Mordred.”

Emrys turned and left with the smaller dragon, leaving Arthur alone in the dusk with only his thoughts for company.

----

“Father I don’t understand!”

Balinor sighed, giving his son a hard look.

“Emrys,” he repeated, “It has to be you.”

“But-”

“None of the other dragons can go into their human state without draconic defects,” He said. “You’re the only one besides myself who has full control over themselves.” Merlin shook his head. They were in Balinor’s caves, and he had no idea how he was going to get himself out of this.

“I don’t want to go to Camelot! It’s a terrible kingdom! They burn sorcerers and they hate magic. Their king is cruel and unjust, and his certainly son is no better. I want absolutely nothing to do with that place!”

“You know I don’t like asking this of you. I wish we could simply raze the place to the ground, but it doesn’t work like that.”

“Why not? Why can’t someone else do it? If we need a human spy why not have one of the druids go?” Merlin hated how much it sounded like he was a whining child.

“You know as well as I do that our treaty with the druids is not strong enough for that yet. Besides, if a druid got caught they would be killed on sight. I would go, but Uther would recognize my human form immediately.”

“I’ll do anything else you want me to do, just not this. You said we need to control the situation with the human King Cenred? Send me there and I will-”

“No.” Balinor’s voice was stern and firm. “One day I will be gone, and then you will be the new leader and dragonlord. Think of this as your first task on the way to that.”

Merlin bit back what he truly wanted to say, that he wanted nothing to do with leading the dragons. That he still didn’t know exactly what he wanted, but that he knew he wasn't strong or brave enough to lead a dying race.

“As I’ve told you before, you have very strong magic. I have sent word to your uncle on your mother’s side. You will leave tomorrow morning for Camelot, and you will meet Gaius under the pretense of a human farm boy learning the art of healing. You will learn everything you can of Camelot's royal household and report back to a messenger I'll send at least once each month. I will hear no more arguments on the subject.”

“Yes, father.”

“You will not use any magic unless it is a life or death situation, lest your cover is blown.”

Merlin’s eyes widened. No magic? It was bad enough he’d be stuck in a cramped human body with no wings, but at this rate he might as well just cut off his arms too!
“But-”

Balinor cut him off with a growl. “No magic. I’m sending you and not someone else because you will be able to protect yourself. However, magic can only be used as a shield once before Uther and his slimy staff discover it and find a way to corner you.” His voice had gone soft like it always did whenever he spoke about the purge. “I’ve seen it myself too many times before.”

He stood in silence, lost in thought.

“Father,” Merlin started slowly. “Why did you send me to kidnap the prince? He doesn’t seem that special, and he’s definitely not too smart.”

At that Balinor’s snout curled into a mysterious smile. “My son, it’s all a part of my plans.”

Merlin frowned. “What plans?”

Balinor waved a claw. “They will become clearer in time, but for now they are nothing for you to worry about.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re not supposed to, little one.”

“Is this why I have to go to Camelot?”

He sighed. “Emrys, I think your time will be better spent preparing for your journey tomorrow. It will take a week or so as I want you to go in human form.”

Merlin rolled his eyes at the clear dismissal as he turned back to the entrance of the caves. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow before I leave?”

----

Merlin dropped the deer carcass unceremoniously on the floor of the cave. Arthur looked up at him reproachfully from the other side.

“Well?” He prompted, impatiently shifting on his clawed feet. “What are you waiting for?”

The prince frowned. “What do you mean?”

With an annoyed huff, the dragon flopped onto the ground. “We’ll be flying for a few days at least and I’m not stopping for food until we get there.”

“Where are we going?”

“That’s not for you to know. Now eat up. It’s the last thing I’ll offer you.”

Arthur eyed the deer carcass as it sat on the floor, raw, covered in dirt, and uncooked.

“I’m not eating that,” He finally said.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Why not? It’s a perfect meal, I caught a buck in its prime for you so I expect you to eat it.”

“Nope. Not eating it.”

Smoke curled out of Merlin’s slitted nostrils. “Fine. Last chance.”

“Still no.”

The head of a tiny green dragon popped out at the head of the cave again. “Can I have it then, Emrys? If he won’t eat it I will!”

Arthur was quite puzzled as he watched the smaller dragon somehow contort its features into something resembling a puppy dog face. He was even more puzzled when he noticed the fondness in the bigger dragon’s eyes as he nudged the deer over.

“Of course you can Mordred. If the prince is too stupid to take good things given to him then he doesn’t deserve them.” Merlin was purposely not looking at him, and Arthur felt like a scolded child despite not understanding a word of whatever language they were speaking. He felt like he should maybe ask Geoffrey if dragons had their own language.

“Are you really leaving us?” Mordred asked through a mouthful of deer. “Kara said she heard you talking to your father about it. I thought you said you were going to talk your father out of sending you to-”

“Hush, Mordred,” Merlin said quickly, sending a glance back in the direction of the still sulking prince. “Not now.”

“But you promised to take me hunting next week!”

He sighed. “I know, I’m sorry. I thought I’d have longer before...”

There was a quiet pause. Arthur was scraping a rock against the floor of the cave in boredom, creating a high-pitched scratching noise.

“I’m sure I’ll be back soon,” Merlin finally said, fully aware that he was lying through his teeth. “And I promise that when I come back I’ll take you hunting and we can go down to the canyon and practice your shifting and magic.”

“But what if something happens to you?” Mordred had stopped eating the deer carcass and was now looking up at Merlin, slitted eyes full of worry.

It was easy for Merlin to forget how aware Mordred was of things. He was just a child, really, but already he had shown a proficiency for magic and shifting to his human forms. The last time he’d done it the disguise had been almost perfect, save for a few scattered patches of scales and his oddly pointed ears.

“Nothing will happen to me, little one,” He reassured. Merlin couldn’t tell who had a harder time believing it, Mordred or himself.

“Promise me you’ll be careful?”

“Only if you promise to keep practicing.”

“I promise!”

“It’s a deal then.”

Mordred grinned happily up at him. “I can’t wait to show you what I learn! I bet I’ll be even better than you are!”

Merlin snorted. “No way,” he teased, “I’m the best and we both know it!”

A burst of flame shot from the small dragon’s mouth, barely grazing Merlin’s forearm. Accepting the challenge, Merlin shot back a flame of his own. The two tumbled together on the cave floor as they wrestled, happy dragon laughter echoing through the cave.

----

Arthur watched on in shocked horror as the two dragons fought to the death. It had all started when the little green one shot a flame at Emrys’ leg. It barely touched it, but Emrys had completely overreacted and now they were wreaking havoc and destruction throughout the cave. To stay clear of the mess he scooted farther back into the darkness, but he couldn’t hide from the terrifying shrieks that echoed through the cave.

They seemed to eventually tire and butted heads one last time. The little green dragon said something in their strange language before leaping off the ledge and flying back into the night. It seemed Emrys had won.

After a few minutes, the prince cautiously took a few steps forward. Emrys had laid down after the tussle, and now his sides were slowly rising and falling steadily. He was asleep.

Unsure of what to do next, Arthur sat down against the wall again. If only he knew that the two dragons had been arguing about, then maybe he could’ve formed a plan.

Alas, he was now just as clueless as he had been before, only hungrier and more tired.

The next morning, Arthur woke to a very large, very sharp claw poking him in the chest.

“Get up. We’re leaving.”

The prince glared up at the dragon. “Where are you taking me?” He demanded again.

Emrys snorted. “As if I’d tell you. Now get up, we have to leave before the sun rises.”

Begrudgingly Arthur stood up, and immediately found himself grasped tightly in the dragon’s talons. He quickly realized that squirming would be useless, and submitted himself to watch the ground flow by beneath him. Eventually he lost track of time. Arthur couldn’t tell where they were or what route they were on. The dragon was probably doing it on purpose.

After the second day of flying, Arthur was thoroughly seasick (airsick?) from flying, and his whole body ached from the dragon’s claws, but he was too terrified to say anything.

“Do you know where we are?” Emrys asked him, just as he was finally drifting off to sleep.

“No,” he admitted grumpily. “You flew in circles and I got lost.” Arthur’s stomach dropped as they began to descend into a clearing.

The dragon sounded unsure, almost a little nervous. “You promise? You have no clue where you are?”

Arthur glared at him. “No clue,” he gritted out.

“Good.” The dragon opened his claws, and Arthur tumbled back onto the ground. Dusk was falling around them, and the cool grass soaked through Arthur’s pants.

“What are you doing?” Arthur snapped, trying to tamp down the feelings of fear. He had no idea where he was and he was alone in unfamiliar woods at night. A cold feeling of dread settled in his gut as he realized that the dragon was going to leave him for dead.

“I’m leaving. I have better things to do with my time than babysit a spoiled prince.”

“You can’t just-just leave me here!” Already he could feel the cold creeping into his body.

Emrys rolled his eyes. “There’s a village that way,” he said, pointing with a talon to a small dirt path. “Tell them you’re a prince or something. You’ll be fine.”

And with that, he pushed himself back up into the air and flew off into the distance.

Chapter Text

Merlin shifted into his human farm a few villages away from Camelot in the densest woods he could find. He lacked the foresight to bring food or money with him, but at the very least he remembered to bring along some human clothes. A pair of dirty trousers that were a bit short on him and a threadbare shirt made up his ensemble. Everything was second-hand, with the exception of the scarf around his neck. The last gift from his human mother, he held onto it dearly.

The first village that Merlin encountered was a little suspicious of the strange man who stumbled out of the woods, using outdated slang and stumbling around on too-big feet. Fortunately for Merlin, they were willing enough to give him directions to Camelot.

Merlin quickly learned a few important things. The first was that humans couldn’t get very far very fast at all. He’d added an extra day onto his normal flight time and expected to get to Camelot in a week. So far he was still at least two weeks away despite already traveling for a week and a half.

Walking, he decided, was the worst mode of transportation. Not to mention that his endurance in this body was terrible. He had to keep taking breaks during the day and his feet were absolutely killing him. Flying was clearly superior, and the fact that humans had made it on only two legs for so long was a miracle in and of itself.

The other thing that he learned was that humans were very picky about their money. He found that if he wanted some money for himself, he had to trade either goods or services. It was incredibly inconvenient because he had a schedule to adhere to and he was already behind. Unfortunately, the man in the village market didn’t seem to sympathize and chased him out with a sword while yelling mean things.

But it didn’t matter, Merlin thought, because he was resourceful enough to figure things out. He could still hunt in this pathetic little body of his, though it was a bit more difficult without built-in weapons. And he was technically used to sleeping on hard ground, but this squishy flesh prison was more particular, and he was getting sick of waking up and aching all over.

Finally, after nearly a month of travel, Merlin arrived at the walls of Camelot. He joined the line of people waiting to be let into the city. Most appeared to be farmers or peasants. In the back of his mind, he wondered idly if the prince had made it back yet to the castle. He wondered if he was still miffed about the whole kidnapping thing.

Merlin approached the guard as it was finally his turn to enter the gates.

“Hello,” he greeted politely, a smile on his face. His father told him that humans bared their teeth at each other all the time, and it was a sign of goodwill and not aggression. Humans still made no sense to him.

“Er-hi,” the knight said, looking him up and down. “Now this is standard procedure, but do you have any magical items on your person?”

“Nope!” His face was starting to hurt from all this “smiling”.

“Okay, have you had any contact with any magical beings or objects in the last six months?”

Merlin was starting to get a little nervous. Did they really expect people to be honest about this sort of thing? Or did they have some other way of knowing if someone was lying?

“No, I haven’t,” he said. Merlin focused his eyes very closely on the guard’s face to see if he knew anything was off. The soldier didn’t seem to notice.

“Alright, you’re clear to go then.” He gave Merlin a strange look but didn’t say anything about his lies.

“Thank you very much,” Merlin replied, still smiling and giving a slight bow to the (extremely tired and definitely underpaid) guard. As Merlin walked away he thought he could hear the guard mutter something along the lines of “country idiots” but paid it no mind. Maybe that was a customary human greeting? Merlin decided to just add it to the ever-growing list of human things that confused him.

Gaius, Merlin decided, was pretty good as far as humans went. He gave him a nice bed that was suitable for his human body and a few simple tasks to do. Or at least he thought they were simple until he ended up with a large mess on his hands. He went to clean it using his magic and almost gave the physician a heart attack, resulting in a very long lecture on why it was imperative that he not use his magic anywhere near Camelot or her castle. It was almost like being back home, Merlin thought, realizing that he may have left his father behind but certainly not the lectures.

Properly chastened (he zoned out after the first minute or so), Merlin was sent off to the market and tasked with buying garlic, beetroot, and wormwood. All was going good and fine until Merlin saw the prince.

By the looks of it, Arthur had recovered just fine from his hasty deposit in the woods. “Should’ve set him down a few villages farther,” Merlin muttered begrudgingly, glaring at the prince and his knights. This earned a few strange looks from the people around him but he brushed it off.

His curiosity outweighing his better judgment, Merlin moved forward to see what the prince and his knights were doing. They were laughing and egging Arthur on, but he couldn’t quite tell what they were messing around with.

“Did I tell you to stop?” he heard Arthur say, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Come on now, I want some moving target practice.”

Merlin ducked around a portly woman carrying a large sack of flour and finally could see the poor servant trembling and holding a target while trying to move it to the other end of the yard. Arthur lazily twirled a knife in his hand.

“That’s enough,” Merlin called out, once again not thinking of the consequences. “You’ve had your fun, my friend.”

Arthur and his knights turned to face him. With a growing sense of annoyance, Merlin was once again reminded that he was no longer in the form of a fearsome dragon and he was stuck in a fragile human body. Even Merlin had to admit that he looked fairly pathetic.

“Do I know you?” The prince asked, his haughty grin never leaving his face.

Yes, Merlin almost said, but caught himself just in time. All protocols for greeting varying levels of human nobility had left his mind, so he stuck out his hand in the standard human greeting. “I’m Merlin.”

“So I don't know you.”

“I guess not.”

“And yet you called me friend.” The knights standing behind Arthur chuckled, and Merlin felt his face heat up against his will. It was a different heat from when he began to prepare a flame. This one was involuntary and made him feel ashamed. Arthur still made no move to accept his greeting, something Merlin was fairly sure was considered rude.

He retracted his hand, frowning. “That was my mistake.” He didn’t like how that made the prince smirk even more, so he hastily added on an insult of his own. “I’d never have a friend who could be such an ass.”

And that’s how everything started.

----

Arthur waved his hand for his father’s cupbearer to bring him more wine. He’d only been back for a week, but it was nice to finally be treated how he deserved. Immediately after his kidnapping his father had sent knights out across the kingdom, and it wasn’t hard for him to find a group of them.

His father hardly seemed to believe him when he told him about the dragons living in the mountains up North. There was no question that he had been kidnapped, of course, but he was convinced it was the work of evil sorcerers trying to disrupt their tentative relationships with the northernmost kingdoms. Magic can make you see and believe many things that aren’t real, Uther had patiently explained to his son. Either way, magic had been involved and night patrols had been increased to capture any miscreants who dared threaten the safety of Camelot.

Arthur wasn’t as convinced as his father. He was positive what he’d seen was real, yet even Morgana seemed to doubt him. 

“Morgana,” he had tried, in an attempt to explain to the king’s ward. “It was real, I swear it. The mind can’t make that sort of thing up.”

Morgana laughed. “You probably just had too much ale with your knights,” she teased. “On the other hand, I suppose,” she mused, “I don’t think you’re creative enough to come up with those sorts of things, even if you were drunk.”

Arthur had just glared at her.

This feast seemed to be dragging on for ages. Bloody hell, he thought, I have better things to do with my time. Glancing across the table he caught a glimpse of Morgana who looked just as bored as he was. It didn’t help that he was still annoyed with the boy in the town earlier, the one who decided to be a nuisance and argue with him. Honestly, he thought, the nerve of some people. He was just having a bit of fun, and besides, the servant deserved it. It would teach him not to put the target into the sun. It was hardly his fault the servants employed at the castle were idiots.

Furthermore, there was something oddly familiar with the prick in the marketplace, but he was positive he’d remember meeting someone so obnoxious and rude. At least throwing him in the dungeons had felt satisfying.

Somewhere between his fourth and seventh cup of wine a woman had presented herself to the court and asked to offer a song. Uther obliged her, and Arthur could feel himself drifting off to sleep. It was a beautiful song, really, but it just made him so relaxed and tired-

The song was abruptly cut off by the sound of the chandelier crashing down onto the singer. The beautiful woman had now been transformed into a hideous hag, and she glared cruelly up at the tables of nobility. She had a knife in her hand and seemed about to throw it, but before Arthur could really process what was happening he was knocked out of the way by a scrawny figure.

He landed on his back with a hard whump  and found himself staring up at a familiar face.

“ You ,” he growled, forcing himself up, ready to give his attacker a piece of his mind. The nerve of this man, first acting up in the marketplace, and now practically assaulting him-

But before Arthur could really light into him, his father was dragging up his attacker and praising him. Arthur stood, his mouth open in shock, as Uther gave the man the position of Arthur’s personal manservant.

“Father, you can’t ,” He hissed, glaring at the man (what was his name again? Martin? Marlin?) who looked incredibly lost and confused.

“Nonsense, Arthur,” Uher chided. “This man saved your life! It’s only natural that he be rewarded with the position of being your manservant.”

The gears were turning in Arthur’s head as he tried to think of a way out of this. He’d be damned if he ever trusted anything to the idiot standing next to his father.

Arthur moved closer to his father, gripping his arm. “He came out of nowhere, how am I supposed to trust him?”

Uther simply waved his hand in a clear sign of dismissal. He had probably had at least a couple of glasses of wine himself, Arthur reflected. His father wasn’t thinking right, and he’d probably change his mind in the morning.

That was the only thing making Arthur feel any better about this whole situation as he stared down his new manservant, that and the fact that the other man didn’t look at all pleased with the situation either.

----

Merlin was starting to really regret not setting the prince down a few villages over. And maybe not so much as setting him down, more dropping him unexpectedly, and from a very large height. Perhaps coughing a few flames at him while he did it as well.

Why did he save him? Merlin still wasn't entirely too sure of that himself. Technically his father said nothing about protecting the royal household, and why should he? It wasn't like Uther and his son were beaming rays of benevolence and kindness. But to Merlin, there was just something that seemed so wrong about standing by and letting people die when you could do something about it. His father, and probably anyone else with an ounce of common sense, would have berated him for taking such a blatant risk of exposing himself. "Discreet" wasn't necessarily something Merlin was known for. But reflecting back on things, Merlin still wasn't sure if he would've made a different decision.

Either way, Merlin had his regrets. The man was a nightmare.

Merlin was no expert on humans, but he was pretty sure that even children knew how to get dressed. And if he’d thought the prince was a pompous prat when he’d been kidnapped, he was even worse in his natural environment.

“Where is my breakfast?” Arthur demanded, sitting half-dressed on the bed. So maybe Merlin was a little late, but really it was Gaiius’ fault for making him clean up his room before he left and giving him a corresponding lecture on the benefits of tidiness, and maybe he hadn’t realized that he was supposed to be bringing his breakfast. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to be doing because no one had bothered to tell him his role as a manservant.

So really, it wasn’t his fault.

“I don’t have it,” Merlin stated simply. He’d seen dozens of other servants bustling around the castle, surely bringing the royal prat his breakfast was someone else’s job. 

Apparently, he was wrong, and Arthur did not hesitate to make him aware of this. Once again, Merlin took advantage of his highly effective skill of zoning out whilst being lectured.

Arthur sighed. “Are you even listening to me?”

Merlin blinked. “Of course.”

He sighed again. “Of course, sire. ”

“There’s no need to call me sire, sir.” Arthur looked ready to throttle him, Merlin observed with glee. He might actually be able to have some fun with this.

“Just bring me my damn breakfast.”

Chapter Text

Gwen, Merlin had decided, was amazing.

He’d been taught that all humans were dull, cruel creatures that wanted to destroy all magic. And while he’d certainly met his fair share of those, Gwen definitely wasn’t like that.

After all, she had made him something called a pie. And it was delicious.

“I take it you like it?” She said, grinning at him as he shoveled it into his mouth.

“Thish ith amaving,” Merlin said through a mouthful of apple pie. He swallowed. “What was this again?”

Gwen laughed. “It’s apple pie. You’re acting like you’ve never had it before.”

He blinked. “I haven’t.”

Her cheeks reddened slightly. “Oh. Well, I recommend the baker down the road, he makes the best ones in Camelot. My favorite is his apple pie too.”

Merlin had been in Camelot for two weeks, and it seemed like he learned new things every day. Things like pie, personal space, mucking the stables, and tidying up. Some of them were good, like the pie, or just confusing, like all the silly protocols that the court had to follow.

Merlin also didn’t like lots of things in Camelot. Like Arthur, for instance. He was a prat who didn’t know how to do anything for himself. It was getting very tiring.

And baths. He wasn’t very fond of those either.
“I’m not washing in that,” Merlin had hissed, glaring at the bucket of warmed water. “I’m a dragon.”

Gaius sighed. “How do you get clean as a dragon, then?”

Merlin sniffed and straightened up. “We bathe in thermal baths beneath the mountains.” Obviously. How else was one supposed to get clean? He supposed rivers or lakes worked too, but those were cold and out in the open, so they certainly weren’t ideal.

He sighed again. “Well in Camelot, we don’t have any thermal baths. This will have to do.”

“But-”

“No buts. Make sure you’re clean by breakfast, you’re starting to smell.”

Grumbling, he did what was asked of him, but the very next day he found a spell in one of Gaius’s old books that would clean himself without having to use the bucket of cold water.

Of course, Merlin’s main hindrance was trying to hide his magic. He had lost track of how many close calls there were. At this point, he was pretty sure the laundry maids were just playing dumb. It wasn’t his fault that doing everything without magic was so damned difficult! Besides, if Arthur wanted the chores done without magic, well, he’d have to at least try them himself before condemning Merlin for it. Unfortunately Gaiius didn’t share that mindset and kept reprimanding him for being so blatantly obvious with his talents.

"Merlin," A voice said, interrupting his train of thought. Honestly, the prat could be so irritating-

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Merlin looked up to see Arthur tapping his foot and glaring at him. He returned the look.

"Well, sire," Merlin was proud of how much contempt he could put into that one word, making it sound more like an insult rather than honorific. Mordred would have been impressed. "I happen to be eating. It's something that everyone does, really, and-"

"No," He snapped, pinching his nose in exasperation. "I mean why aren't you doing the chores I specifically asked you to do this morning."

Now, Merlin did vaguely remember being told to do a few things, but truth be told he stopped listening as soon as Arthur turned it into a lecture. And he had done some chores this morning, they just weren't his. Merlin felt that helping Gwen around the castle was enough to be considered his contribution. And maybe, perhaps, he wasn't so much helping her as much gossiping with her, but Arthur didn't need to know that.

Merlin hummed. "Which chores, specifically, would you be referring to?” Arthur looked positively murderous, so he quickly added, “Because I certainly did some chores, but given your expression, I'm guessing they weren't the ones you mentioned."

A low growl of frustration escaped Arthur's throat. "I was referring to the list of things I gave you last night, after the feast. Not a single one has been done."

"Hmm, I hear you sire, I do. And I think I see the problem here."

"Oh really? And what's that?"

Merlin shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid it's your handwriting, sire."

"My what?"

"Handwriting. Don’t you know what that is?" Merlin was fighting the urge to smile. Camelot might have been his personal version of hell, and as someone once wisely said, sharing was the most sincere form of caring. Besides, the sight of Arthur riled up was just too amusing to give up. "Handwriting, sire, is how it looks when you write words on paper with a-"

"I know what handwriting is!"

"Ah, well good then. I can get back to finishing my breakfast." He shoveled the last spoonful of the tasteless porridge into his mouth and stood up.

"No, Merlin, that's not-"

"I'll talk with you later," He called over his shoulder as he walked out the door of the physician's chambers, "I have to go get some things for Gaius!"

The indignant sputters were music to Merlin's ears and he allowed himself a toothy grin. It faded off his face as he was gripped from behind by two of the beefy guards that roamed around the castle.

"Stocks!" Arthur called from the distance, and Merlin sighed. Worse things had happened to him. He could endure a few hours in the flimsy wooden things the humans thought was the epitome of punishment. It wouldn’t be the first time, and certainly not the last.

----

The next day he arrived on time in Arthur's chambers only at the prompting of Gaius. Say what you would, but the old man could be intimidating. His first task of the day was waking up the prince. It was a stupid job, Merlin had said, but his mentor would not hear it.

The stupid prince lay in his stupid bed with his stupid pillows surrounding him. Merlin had not enjoyed waking up to a cold room, what with his flimsy blanket doing a shoddy job of trapping any heat in. He used a spell to warm the room once and was lectured by a cranky Gaius about the dangers of doing unnecessary magic for an hour. Apparently it turned the whole room "hotter than a sauna" and someone was bound to notice something unnatural if they started "sweating like a hog when it was nearly November". Merlin's human form was terrible at surviving the elements, and the flimsiness of these human creatures would never cease to amaze him.

But back to his job. The first thing to do was to wake Arthur, so Merlin went for the simplest route.

"Arthur," He said loudly (and with great contempt). "Wake up."

Nothing. The prince didn't even stir.

"Arthur," He tried again. "You need to wake up!"

The only thing Merlin got for his troubles was a small snore.

He stood for only a minute contemplating what to do when it hit him. Since this was technically a part of his job, then technically speaking, annoying the prince into waking him up was exactly the sort of thing he was supposed to be doing. He could enjoy this.

Merlin marched over and yanked the covers off of Arthur's sleeping form. This earned him a low, growled threat.

"GivemebackmybloodyblanketsorI'llhaveyourheadchoppedoff,"  Arthur snapped.

He grinned. "Rise and shine!" The windows flung open with a wave of Merlin's hand and the cold air that gushed in made even him shiver. “Up and at ‘em!”

"I’m going to kill you," Arthur grumbled, sitting up while he wrapped his arms around himself. He was too bleary-eyed to notice the blatant magic that his manservant used. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"My job," Merlin said with a smile. "I'm supposed to be waking you up. Here I am!"

Arthur yanked his blankets back from the servant. "If you're doing your job, then where is my breakfast?"

In hindsight Merlin probably should have read more than just the first task on his list of duties, what with trying to be more prepared for things and all, but Merlin was nothing if not a quick thinker.

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking at the prince innocently. "You already ate your breakfast."

"Merlin," He growled. "I know you aren’t that bright, but even I have my limits. I just woke up. Where. Is. My. Food."

He made a mental note to remember that the royal prat got irritable when he was hungry, but he seemed irritated all the time, so Merlin didn't really see the point of remembering it. What Merlin should have remembered was what the rest of that list had said, but seemed to have slipped his mind. It also seemed to have slipped out of his pocket, but that was a future problem for future Merlin.

"In your stomach, sire." 

"No, no it isn't. If I've had my breakfast, then why am I still in bed?" The rumpled golden hair and sleep-filled voice made it hard to take him seriously, but Merlin began concocting a plan that would get him out of this situation with minimal work on his behalf.

"Because, if you'll remember, you woke this morning exhausted and hungry. What with being the dutiful manservant I am, I had brought you breakfast. A big one, mind you, with sausage and eggs, and, well, you get my drift. But you were still so tired even after eating it that you went to bed again. I let you sleep for a little while longer because you ate everything so quickly you had time to spare."

Arthur still seemed incredulous, but he was looking less sure of himself as Merlin went on.

"Is that so?"

Merlin put a hand to his chest in mock piety. "Would I lie to you , the prince of Camelot ?"

Squinting his eyes, Arthur considered him for a moment. "Fine," he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. "Well don't just stand there! Get my clothes out."

Hiding his grin Merlin waltzed over to the boudoir. He opened it and stared in confusion at the many colorful garments hanging in the ornately carved wooden closet. Unsure of what exactly Arthur wanted he chose the most similar thing to what he had worn the day before.

Arthur seemed to approve of his selection by completely not acknowledging the clothes Merlin picked for him and brushing Merlin off without so much as a thank you. Merlin listened to the echo of his footsteps on the floor fading away.

Flopping onto the prince’s bed, Merlin reflected on the choices that led him to be stuck in the service of the world’s largest royal prat. Then he realized that there was now a free breakfast waiting for him in the kitchens that was fit for a prince. Grinning, he waltzed out of the prince’s chambers and ignored the wary looks of the guards that followed the suspiciously cheerful manservant.

----

Merlin frowned at the pile of armor. After an excruciatingly painful half an hour, he'd finally been able to get the armor off of Arthur, just for him to shove it back in his arms with the demand to clean it.

For the thousandth time, Merlin resisted the urge to scream at him. He was a dragon, who didn't need the silly fake-scales, let alone need to know how to clean them. It was just another reason why humans were so helpless and their lives were so pointless.

After much debate, he decided to ask Gwen for help. As far as humans went, she wasn't that bad. In fact, he always enjoyed his chats with her. She showed him the city and the lower town, and he was beginning to consider her his friend. He knew that Gwen's father made the human's armor and swords, so she must know how to take care of them.

"Merlin," Gwen smiled warmly when he finally tracked her down. "How are you?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Not great. I'm sick of Arthur and it's only been a week."

She laughed. "How can I help?" Gwen asked. "The senior servants always try to help out the newer ones when they first start out to make things easier."

Merlin grinned. "I need help with his armor."

He began to tell Gwen stories he had learned growing up as they worked. One thing that was easy for all dragons to hoard no matter what was stories. Dragons told them to those they cared about and trusted with something so precious as stories. Merlin had to adapt them a bit as he went on, but Gwen seemed to still enjoy them. He told her his favorites, of which he had many. Merlin had always loved listening to the older dragons tell the pups stories, and he seemed to have a particular affinity for them even as he got older.

An hour later, Merlin was much wiser on the ways of armor maintenance and thoroughly impressed with his new friend. After telling her this, Gwen laughed, waving him off and blaming it on growing up as the blacksmith's daughter.

After his chores for Prince Prat were finished (well, most of them anyway), Merlin had decided it was time he investigated the castle as per his mission. Gwen had been most helpful with Arthur's armor and he finished it earlier than he expected, meaning he had time to nose around the nobles' various chambers.

He decided the first place to visit should be Uther's chambers. Merlin was most excited to go there first. The sooner the evil king was overthrown the better, he thought. Using the tried and true method of making a noise at the other end of the hall with magic to lure the guards away, Merlin arrived at Uther's door. It was a little pathetic how easy it was to get in. You'd think Camelot's soldiers would know better than to both run off towards the suspicious noise and leave the door unguarded, but apparently not.

Merlin unlocked the door with a spell he'd learned that morning. He slipped in quietly and shut the door as soon as the guards rounded the corner again. No one expected someone to be breaking into the king's quarters in broad daylight, and Merlin planned to take advantage of that on a regular basis.

He rifled through the desk, flipping through various letters and decrees. Most of it was purely political, trade accounts, census records, alliance plans, and so on. Merlin didn't really know what he was expecting, maybe an essay written by the king about how he justified murdering magical creatures and his evil plans to eradicate magic everywhere, but he didn't find anything that his father would find useful.

What exactly his father thought might be useful was still unclear to Merlin. When he questioned Balinor about why he had to go to Camelot he was reprimanded for questioning him. Merlin also had not been told when or where he would be meeting with his contact to send information back to the dragons. He wasn’t sure what he would say. Merlin had made an alarming habit of saving the prince and the royal family, only because he wasn’t sure what exactly his father wanted him to do, of course. Perhaps Balinor had a plan for the king and his prince to use them as puppet rulers before taking full control and making them pay for their crimes. Or something. Merlin hadn’t given it a lot of thought yet, and that was concerning.

Last week in a tournament there’d been a competitor with a shield enchanted with poisonous snakes. Merlin had stopped him, but only because Arthur dying of magical poison might interfere with his father’s plans and would enrage Uther to do something stupid against magic. Then there were multiple assassins who all had their reasons to try and kill Arthur. Merlin could sympathize, of course, but he was a dragon which meant he was a tad territorial. They had all been dealt with because Arthur was his enemy to destroy.

A noise from the hall startled him out of his thoughts. Merlin could hear Uther’s voice farther down, arguing with who sounded like Arthur. Realizing the door was no longer a viable escape option, Merlin eyed the window. As a dragon he would have no qualms about throwing himself out of it, but he was human right now and someone might notice if the Prince’s manservant was seen floating down from the King’s chambers. He would have to be careful and do his best not to be seen.

The voices stopped just outside the door and Merlin paused with his foot on the window ledge to listen.

“I will hear of this no more!”

“But Father ,” Merlin could hear Arthur plead. “Is it really necessary to execute the whole family? The boy is only a child, and the reports of magic are dubious at best. You can’t execute the whole family!”

Merlin’s hands clenched into fists, and he could feel his nails growing into claws as they pierced the skin of his palms. He’d heard a rumor earlier in the day, but he didn’t think it was true. Was Uther so terrible he would execute an entire family because a young child was simply rumored to possess magic?

“Arthur,” Uther snarled, “I am the king. You would do well to remember that. You are young and naive and you haven’t seen the damage that magic can do. It is necessary to pull it out like a weed as soon as it’s discovered, and then make sure that its rot did not spread to those around it. This execution is necessary, and I will hear no more about it from you!”

It made Merlin’s blood boil, but he reminded himself that he wouldn’t be able to do anything if he was caught.

That night the guards on watch in the dungeons mysteriously all fell asleep on duty, and if an entire family slipped away unnoticed into the night, well, Merlin could hardly have anything to do with it.

----

Arthur was having a hard time understanding how Merlin had made it so far in life on his own.

The man was a walking disaster. From his clumsiness to downright idiocy, he was already making Arthur's life harder, which was the exact opposite of his job. When he'd tried to appeal to his father, Uther had pointed out it had only been a week and he had to wait for at least a little longer until he fired him. 

Uther seemed to be under the impression that Arthur was overexaggerating his manservant's incompetence. That, and he was busy with more important things than Arthur's personal life, which left Merlin to be Arthur's problem.

One thing that Arthur had found true with troublesome knights was that if you gave them enough hard tasks to complete they eventually shaped up. He figured if it worked with the young knights it would work with his servant.

Unfortunately, the only thing that seemed to result from this was Merlin's absence when Arthur actually needed him. He knew there was no way Merlin was actually working on his chores at the moment, and he was positive that he hadn't even started them. The problem at hand, though, was that he needed Merlin in front of him right now.

"Merlin!" He bellowed, resisting the urge to throw his pillow at the wall. That would be childish, he reasoned, and he was a prince who was dignified and-

"What do you want this time?"

Arthur hurled the pillow at his manservant's head as it appeared outside his door. Merlin caught it and stared at him disdainfully.

"I'm busy," Merlin said curtly. "What is it now?"

Grinding his teeth together, Arthur growled, "You absolutely cannot address me like that." Yesterday, after convincing him that he’d already eaten his breakfast (something Arthur was still fairly certain he’d lied about) Merlin had left and gone missing for the entire day. That sort of behavior could not become a habit.

Merlin rolled his eyes. Such impertinence, Arthur thought. He was lucky he had Arthur as his master and not someone who would send him to the whipping post, he thought. Not that he wasn't considering it at the moment.

"I told you to get my clothes for the day and you vanished!" Arthur continued once he realized Merlin wasn't interested in fixing his mistake. "You've been gone for the past half hour. Did you think your work was done after you woke me up?"

His servant opened his mouth and closed it again, an irritated frown on his face. Apparently he had thought that, and Arthur would have to disabuse him of that notion. Once again he wondered how he’d gotten stuck with the most incapable and insolent servant in all of Camelot. 

"The absolute nerve," Arthur muttered to himself as he stood from the bed, stretching his arms sore from a particularly hard practice with the knights. "You’re lucky I haven't had you arrested for the sheer disrespect-"

Merlin continued to stand and stare disinterestedly at Arthur like he was a petulant child throwing a temper tantrum. Which he wasn’t, because Arthur was a prince, and when princes were displeased it certainly wasn’t called a “temper tantrum”.

"You're going to make me late," He snapped. "Come on, get my clothes out! I have practice with the knights and I expect you to be present the entire time. No running off to do-" He frowned, not really sure what Merlin did in his free time. "No running off to gossip with the other servants."

Merlin glared. "Is there any real point for me to even be there?"

"We can always use an extra pair of hands, however incompetent they are."

"So I'm just going to be there for you and your knight buddies to bully me around then?

Arthur smiled. "Of course. So glad you know your role here, Merlin."

"You're a- a prat!"

"And you're an idiot. You’re also going to the stocks if you call me that again."

Scowling, Merlin followed Arthur down the hall as he rattled off the things he’d need Merlin to do for the day.

“During our practice you need to make sure everyone has water. You’ll rearrange targets as I see fit and pick up other things. I also need some of my armor and swords polished, so you may as well do that too. While you’re at it you can bring my boots over because those need to be shined as well.”

“Is that really necessary?”
Arthur turned to stare at him. “Of course it’s necessary. I’m a prince, I have appearances to maintain.

“Perhaps your training would be more effective if you didn’t have your servants do all your work.”

“Merlin, are you trying to be funny again? I thought I already told you it wasn’t working.”

“Of course not, sire, ” Merlin said, a growing smirk on his face. “I’m only looking out for the safety of the kingdom.”

Arthur frowned. “I will have you know, Mer lin, that the knights of Camelot are some of the most capable fighters in all of the kingdoms.”

“I know you think that sire, but I have my doubts. Yesterday I watched a knight spend ten minutes trying to push a door that needed to be pulled. I fear for Camelot’s safety if the rest of her knights are in a similar state.”

“Are you implying that all the knights of Camelot are incompetent?” Arthur could feel heat rising to his cheeks as he stared indignantly at his manservant.

“Of course not, sire. Just that there may be certain...problem areas.” Merlin continued to stare ahead with a detached air about him like he was discussing the weather and not insulting the best fighters in Albion.

“Every tournament we wipe the floor with our competitors!”
“Uh huh.”

“Lords from all around send their sons and practically beg for just an audience with me and my father to have their sons train under us!”

“I’m sure they do.”

“Even the least skilled one of us would have you incapacitated before you’d even had time to raise your scrawny arms in defence.”

Merlin mumbled under his breath, “I highly doubt that.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing sire, just that I think some changes to the training regimen may benefit the knights. Perhaps starting with doing some of their own menial tasks instead of delegating them to busy and overworked servants.”

“Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“Do shut up.”

Chapter Text

“Felicity!” Merlin trilled, waltzing down the stairs to the washroom. He entered to find this girl he was looking for sitting among her friends as they were washing the castle’s clothes and mending some of the garments. “You will not believe what Arthur just did!”

Felicity smiled shyly. “Something horrible and prat-like, perhaps?”

He beamed. “Of course! He’s incapable of anything else.”

Mary, one of Felicity’s friends, patted the ground beside her. “Come sit and tell us?”

And so Merlin launched into a rant of how awful Arthur and the knights had treated him during their training session that morning.

“They made me run around the entire time bringing them weapons and holding up targets. Instead of using an actual training dummy, Arthur decided to use me , and then when I complained they just laughed! Arthur actually called me a coward, can you believe that? Then they kept sending me to go get water instead of using their own servants, so I was doing the work of ten people at once! And then after all that work, Arthur made me stay after to clean and polish his armor again. I’m so bloody sick of him!” He leaned across Mary to pick up a shirt that needed scrubbing. “ They’re all a bunch of spoiled prats, that’s what.”

All the serving girls nodded sympathetically. Jane told the group about how her mistress was making her scrap all the work she’d done on a dress because she kept changing her mind about which colors she wanted it to be.

“I have half a mind to quit!” She exclaimed, exasperated. Merlin nodded in sympathy as he worked to get a stain out of one of the linens in the pile. He almost began to murmur a spell to get it out but caught himself just in time. “At this point it would make more sense to finish the dress and sell it to someone who might actually appreciate my work! I spent a whole week working on that garment just for her to decide she wants it in green instead when she was the one who decided she wanted it to be pink in the first place? The cost of the dress is more than what I get paid for a month of work here anyway.”

Merlin groaned. “If you quit then where will that leave us? You can’t quit, I’ll be sad!”

She laughed, setting aside the green dress she was working on. “Quit with me, and we can run away to the countryside together!”

“I hope you’re not planning on escaping from us anytime soon,” Gwen said, appearing in the washroom. She was greeted with a chorus of enthusiastic hellos as she squeezed herself in to sit next to Merlin. “We love you too much.”

“Love me enough to raise my salary?”

Gwen snorted. “Please, if I could I’d raise mine too.”

“There’s bound to be a bountiful harvest this season, right? Perhaps we’ll get some pay raises, or a bonus or something,” Felicity added hopefully. Merlin thought back to what he knew about her. He knew she had two aging parents and a few younger siblings, one of which was chronically ill. He’d heard that Felicity contributed almost all of her pay to her little sister’s medical treatments while her parents' farm struggled to support the rest of the family’s bills. It made Merlin frustrated knowing such a sweet and hard-working person would have to give up everything they earned each month just to keep someone they loved from dying. But perhaps there was something he could do.

Isabel, another maid, rushed into the room out of breath. All eyes turned to her as a mischievous grin filled her face.

“What happened?” Gwen asked.

“You-” She panted, “-you are never going to believe what I just saw!”

Merlin blinked passively. He had an idea, of course, but he wasn’t going to just spoil the surprise for everyone, that would ruin the fun of it.

“What?”

“Do you remember Lord Harvey?”

A series of sour expressions were exchanged across the room among all the serving girls. Lord Harvey was visiting from his estate to discuss border disputes with the king and had made a complete ass of himself the whole time. Every single servant had something to say about his rude, creepy, and inappropriate manner. There had been more than one incident where a knight had to step in to prevent some poor maid or server from getting harassed. Uther, of course, had been informed, but apparently he either didn’t care or Harvey's estates were too important to be risked over a few insults to servants. It didn’t matter though, because just yesterday he’d made Gwen almost burst into tears when he groped her backside. No one had seen except for Merlin who decided to focus more on making sure Gwen was alright instead of ripping apart the disgusting excuse of a creature who had only laughed at her discomfort.

So it was entirely possible that Merlin had decided to meddle.

“What happened?” Gwen asked, fidgeting with the mending in her lap.

Isabel sat atop a stool in the center of the room, ever the dramatic storyteller. “Well, this morning Lord Harvey went on a walk with the Prince across the turrets. They were on the one that goes by the stables. Apparently, someone decided to pile all of the horse dung from the past month right below the edge!”

Merlin fought the urge to grin. It had taken him the whole night to shovel an entire stable’s worth of manure, but it had definitely been worth it.

“ Then , when they were walking, someone called Lord Henry’s name, and when he leaned over the edge he fell and landed headfirst into the pile of shit! He looked so surprised and had to keep spitting it out of his mouth!”

The laundry room erupted into roaring laughter. Merlin finally let himself grin. He’d hidden behind a cart when he yelled Lord Henry’s name, and it had only taken a little pull from his magic to send him tumbling into the manure. Any risk he’d taken had been worth watching the man sputter and spit out horse shit while Arthur got more and more flustered as he tried to figure out what he should do. Merlin couldn’t stay long though, to avoid suspicion, and had taken a shortcut to the laundry rooms on the off chance he would need an alibi.

“I wish I could’ve been there to see it,” Gwen said wistfully. 

Merlin patted her hand. “Maybe he’ll make a fool out of himself again and you’ll be there next time. I’m sure we won’t have to wait long.”

Gwen grinned and leaned closer to him. In a low voice she said, “Now, as preposterous as this seems, I don’t suppose you had anything to do with this.”

Merlin sputtered, shaking his head. “N-no! How could I have had anything to do with it? I was here the whole time!” He was babbling now, and he knew it.

She raised an eyebrow.

He froze, his brain running through a list of different excuses. Gwen merely laughed again, patting his back.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell. Just let me know next time so I can watch, okay?” Merlin couldn’t decide whether or not he should be worried by her mischievous smile.

Relieved, he let out a breath. As long as she didn’t suspect anything about his magic he was in the clear. “How’d you know?” Merlin asked.

“Merlin,” She started, placing a hand on his. “You’re a terrible liar. Besides, the whole time that Isabel was talking you looked like you were about to start bursting into laughter. You need a better poker face.”

Merlin nodded, doing his best to contort his face into something stoic looking. It didn’t work, because Gwen was laughing again.

Oh well, he thought. He could always use a partner in crime.

----

Arthur rubbed his temples in an attempt to will the headache away. Lord Harvey was not worth all the effort his father was making him put into this, not that Uther would ever actually listen to him. The man had been nothing but rude and pompous the entire time that Arthur had been showing him around the castle, constantly making snide comments and comparing Camelot's battlements to his own. Why a simple lord would have better armaments than a king, Arthur didn't know, and he was almost positive that Harvey was overselling his own worth to Uther. But Arthur, ever the loyal son, was doing his best to be polite.

"Just over here you get a beautiful view of the town and the forest," He said, attempting to start a conversation that wasn't about the effectiveness of Camelot's defenses. "Early in the morning when the sun comes up is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." It was true, Arthur really did love watching the sunrise every morning, he just hated getting up early.

Lord Harvey scoffed. "Ah youth, ever distracted by the next pretty thing." For the record, Arthur thought, Harvey was only a few years older than him, and he'd seen Harvey eyeing the wealth within Camelot like he couldn’t wait to get an excuse to have his grubby fingers all over it. He didn't appreciate Harvey trying to seem more mature than himself. "While the view from this wall might be 'pretty', it hardly gives it good protection. I'd advise you to add some more guards here. Whichever fool is in charge of patrols seems to have left this area undefended."

Arthur ground his teeth together and resisted the urge to snap at Harvey and remind him that Arthur was the one in charge of patrols, and typically there were guards set up here but Arthur had asked them to move while he was giving Harvey a tour. Instead, he simply nodded stiffly, keeping his tongue in check.

"And whatever is that smell?" Harvey complained. "It smells like horse shit."

Arthur frowned. "That's strange. Normally you can't smell the stables all the way over here."

Suddenly, a familiar voice called out, "Lord Harvey! Over here!"

Harvey turned towards the voice and leaned over the edge. Before Arthur could even process what was happening, Harvey was tumbling forward off the wall. With a shout, he lunged forward to try and grab a hold of the lord, but he was too late. Fortunately for Lord Harvey, Arthur soon discovered why they had been smelling horse manure. The young lord sat in a pile of horse shit instead of laying broken on the cobblestones below. He face was screwed up into disgust and mortification as he attempted to spit out what had managed to get into his mouth.

Sputtering, Arthur also leaned over the edge, this time making sure he was secure and would not fall forward like Harvey. Lord Harvey looked outraged, like it was somehow Arthur's fault he had fallen and not his own clumsiness.

"Guards!" Arthur called, and at his words six soldiers and a knight seemed to appear out of nowhere. "Help Lord Harvey up immediately!"

He was furious and embarrassed as Leon helped him up, and even Arthur had to admit it was funny. As Arthur headed towards the way down from the wall, he couldn't help but smile to himself. The rest of Harvey's visit might be hell, but he would have this memory to tide him through.

----

Merlin, Arthur realized, was the worst liar he had ever met. He'd already had his suspicions when he heard Merlin yell Harvey's name that morning, but now he was sure that Merlin had a hand in Harvey's accident. If it had been anyone less irritating than Lord Harvey he would have had Merlin in the stocks, but now he was debating thanking him. The morning’s events had spread fast and Lord Harvey scowled at every hushed giggle and mirthful glance that came his way from servants and fellow nobles alike.

At dinner that night Merlin continued to slack off in his duties as Arthur's cupbearer, his chalice consistently running dry.

"Merlin," Arthur complained. "Your job is not to just stand there and look pretty with the wine like some girl. You have to actually keep filling my cup up."

Merlin, ever the insolent manservant, just rolled his eyes and poured the tiniest bit of wine into his cup. "Sire," he said, once again making the word sound like an insult, "As the person who will have to drag your drunk arse up to your chamber after dinner, I think some moderation in your drink is a good idea."

Arthur scowled at him. "That's not up to you to decide! Pour me some more wine already."

He sighed. "You're acting like a spoiled child who’s been denied sweets. Remember you have an early training session tomorrow? Don't tell me you've forgotten about it again."

With a groan Arthur turned back around sullenly in his seat. He could hear Merlin chuckle behind him. "Some water then, sire?"

Arthur nodded petulantly and picked up a piece of bread to eat.

"You let your servant talk to you like that?" Lord Harvey asked, tone incredulous. 

He gripped his fork and tried to pretend he hadn't heard him over the rest of the feast's commotion.

"Arthur," Harvey repeated, and once again Arthur tried not to snap at him to remember the rest of his title. "Surely you don't let that kind of attitude slide so easily? He deserves the stocks or at least a lashing!"

Arthur opened his mouth but before he could say anything Lord Harvey was calling Merlin over. His manservant came, looking irritated once more.

"You, boy," Harvey snapped. "Why don't you show your master some proper respect?"

Merlin stared at him balefully. "Pardon, my lord?"

He snorted. "So you do have some manners." Harvey turned back to Arthur. "Where did you find this dimwit?"

"Watch how you speak about my servants," Arthur reminded him, barely resisting the urge to glare at Harvey. He was proud to say that he managed to keep his voice calm and level.

With a scoff, Harvey snapped his fingers to summon Merlin over. Looking openly hostile, Merlin stepped towards his seat. "Kneel," He said, pointing at the ground. Merlin's shoulders stiffened and he turned to look back at Arthur.

"What do you think you're doing, Lord Harvey?" Arthur started, beginning to become concerned. He spared a glance at his father's seat at the head of the table, but Uther was looking away and talking with another advisor. 

"Teaching this boy some respect!" Arthur was pretty sure that Harvey was more than a little drunk at this point. "You need to have a firm hand or else they'll get it in their heads that they're equal to you."

Arthur no longer tried to keep from glaring at him. "That is not your job."

"Please," Harvey scoffed. "I've seen the sorry state of Camelot's servants, they’re an unruly lot. It's clear that you've been too soft with them. I fear for Camelot's sake if her future ruler can't even command the respect of a couple of servants."

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur's hands found the armrests of his chair and gripped them tightly.

Harvey ignored him and turned his attention back to Merlin, who was watching the scene between the two with a furrowed brow.

"I said kneel, boy!"

Merlin rolled his eyes again. "You're not my master," He said impertinently. "I don't have to do anything you tell me to do."

Something in Harvey's eyes snapped, and he reached up and smacked Merlin across the face. Arthur stood up fast enough to knock his chair back onto the ground, and he could've sworn he heard his manservant emit an almost inhuman growl.

"Apologize!" Arthur demanded. He pulled Merlin towards him by the back of his tunic, tugging him to his side. Harvey was standing now too, leaning on the table with one pudgy arm.

"Apologize? I will do no such thing! The boy had it coming to him!"

Uther was looking over now, as was almost everyone else. The chatter of the court had faded to low murmurs as they watched the lord and the prince.

"You hit my servant! By extension that is an insult to myself, and you will apologize," He said firmly.

"Arthur," Uther said, calm rage thinly veiled in his tone. "Don't make a fuss over something so silly."

"Don't tell me you're defending him!" Harvey snapped. "I heard you berating him just moments ago!"

He was at a loss for words for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on land. "I-He's my servant, not yours!"

"Arthur," Uther repeated, his patience slowly wearing thin. "Do not embarrass Camelot in front of our guests."

Arthur glared at the offending lord and then his father. With a huff of frustration, he turned towards the exit, dragging Merlin with him. "Goodnight!" He called sharply over his shoulder. 

The anger and embarrassment came after he had stormed out, and he tried to steady himself with a deep breath. Somehow he and Merlin had ended up in his chambers, and Merlin looked furious. At who, though, Arthur couldn't tell.

"You have every right to throw him out on his ass," Merlin announced, beginning to putter around the room and prepare Arthur for bed.

Arthur blinked. "What?"

"He insulted you," Merlin said, and his anger turned into terrifying calm. "He's been a terrible guest. I know he's been rude to you and the other nobility and not a single servant can say he's anything good."

"It's out of my control," He muttered, looking down at his hands. Guilt and anxiety swirled in his stomach. His father would be furious that he made a scene at dinner, especially after he had told him to play nice with Lord Harvey. His lands were right on the border between Camelot and Cenred's kingdom, and Uther wanted to ensure Harvey was an ally. Merlin was staring at him but Arthur had no idea what he was thinking.

"Why does your father insist on keeping him here? Even if he was wealthy, then he doesn't need it that badly. Harvey has no big armies and he's certainly not a good strategist or diplomat."

Arthur shook his head. He was beginning to feel the sting of embarrassment. He might even be expected to be the one to apologize tomorrow to Harvey, and that was not something he was looking forward to.

"He wants an ally," Arthur finally said, "Another barrier between us and Cenred as a precaution. It's a good idea, and now I've probably gone and mucked it up. My father will be furious tomorrow."

Merlin snorted. "Let him be furious. You've done nothing wrong, it's the king’s fault for picking an ass like him and then making you deal with him."

"Merlin!" Arthur chastised. Maybe Harvey was right and he had gotten too soft with him. "Saying things like that is what got us into this mess in the first place!"

Merlin rolled his eyes again, turning away to face the window. Night had fallen on the lower town and only small pinpricks of light were still visible in the dark.

"Find another idiot lordling to stick between Camelot and Cenred," He finally said, tapping on the window panes. It might have been Arthur's imagination but he could have sworn he heard a tinkling noise, like Merlin's nails were somehow long enough to make a scratching noise against the window. "Your father thinks he can win him over and be done with it, but creatures like Harvey will always give way to the threat in front of them."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that if Cenred threatened him he'd roll over onto his back in half a second. He's a coward and a bully. Camelot needs better allies."

Arthur sighed. "It's not my decision. Besides, what would you know about politics? You're just a servant."

Merlin turned to look at him, annoyance clear in his glare. He opened his mouth to say something but shut it again as if deciding to stay quiet. "Will that be all tonight, then, sire?" He asked.

Arthur waved a hand. "Go. I'll see you in the morning for patrol."

Merlin sighed and began to head towards the door before stopping and turning around once more.

“For the record,” He said softly. “Thanks, for defending me. You didn’t have to, but it was...nice.”

He scoffed. “It wasn’t like I did for your sake. Like I said earlier, insulting a servant is a direct insult to their master. I was only defending myself.”

Merlin grinned, shaking his head as he stepped out. “Whatever you say, sire.”

----

"Morning!" Gwen chirped, giving Merlin a warm smile. 

He sighed. "Morning, Gwen," he mumbled, taking Arthur's tray from the kitchen maid. He'd stayed up all night trying to figure out what made Harvey so important to Uther. He had a hard time believing that the king was being polite to him only because he thought he might be useful against Cenred. Harvey was testing Merlin’s patience, and it was all he could do last night to keep from fully shifting into a beast and burning him to a crisp. His nails hadn’t gone back to normal until he’d gotten back to his rooms and he still had some scales on his upper arms. It was surprising that no one had noticed the feline look in his eyes as his pupils had turned to slits and his normally blue irises had hints of yellow and gold.

“You look tired,” She commented. She took Morgana’s breakfast from another maid and they began to walk to the respective rooms together. “How’s your face feeling?”
“My face?” Merlin wondered aloud.

Gwen blushed. “You know, when Lord Harvey hit you. At this point everyone’s heard about it.”

Isabel rushed up to the two looking overjoyed. “Is it true you called Lord Harvey dog-brained to his face?”

Merlin laughed. “No, but I wish.”

She groaned. “Me too. He’s getting worse, you know. My cousin had to bring him back to his rooms last night and she said he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, if you know what I mean.”

He glowered down at the sausage links on the tray, wishing there was something he could do. Arthur seemed convinced it was out of his control and Uther had some unknown reason for keeping Lord Harvey here. Merlin was sure that any other lordling would have fled after the embarrassment he suffered the other day in horse manure.

“Merlin!”  Mary called. “Did you really tell Lord Harvey that he still smelled like horse shit?”

He shook his head and her face fell.

“Damn,” She muttered, pinching her brows together. “I owe Claire in laundry money now.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Were you betting on me? And how does everyone know already?”
Gwen laughed. “News travels fast in the castle, Merlin. Besides, everyone is desperate to see Lord Harvey get what he deserves.” Mary nodded in agreement.

“Claire said you were too nice to say something like that right to him but I held out hope.” He cracked a grin.

“How are you feeling?” A soft voice asked. Felicity had appeared from the doorway with a basket of food. “I heard he hit you.”

Merlin shrugged. “I’m fine,” He tried to say in an attempt to change the subject. “He didn’t even hit me that hard.” It seemed to have the opposite effect that he intended, however. All the kitchen girls were cooing over him, checking his face to make sure there was no bruising.

“I’m okay! Really!” He protested, trying to extricate himself from the concerned cook, a tough burly woman who normally didn’t show affection but now seemed worried about Merlin’s well-being and was trying to force some blueberry tarts on him for what he endured. When everyone seemed satisfied that Merlin was not going to collapse he left to deliver Arthur his breakfast, Gwen tagging along.

“So,” Gwen started slowly. “Why did he really hit you?”

“He tried to order me around, said I was being disrespectful to Arthur. So I told him that he wasn’t my master and I didn’t have to listen to him, so then he slapped me. That was all.”

“At least Arthur stood up for you.”

“Yeah,” He sighed. “I’m just trying to figure out why Harvey is still here. Arthur said it was because his land is between Camelot and Cenred so he could help protect us, but I think there’s something more to it.”

Gwen pursed her lips for a moment and looked around as if to check no one could hear them.

“I heard a rumor that Lord Harvey has something important that the king wants. They didn’t say what, but it must be pretty important for the king to put up with him. Mary says she heard him complaining about Lord Harvey the other day. Apparently he’s a terrible conversationalist, not that that’s surprising.”

Merlin frowned. He had no idea what could possibly be so big that someone would willingly suffer through Lord Harvey. His first thought was to something that had magic, but that would make Harvey an enemy of Uther, not an ally.

Regardless, he figured that whatever reason Harvey was here could not be a good one, and he needed to go as soon as possible. The fact that Uther wanted him on his side just further made his point that Harvey was a terrible person and needed to leave.

“He’ll leave eventually,” Gwen continued, seemingly oblivious to Merlin’s conflict. “In the meantime, we’ll just have to deal with it and do our best to avoid him. See you later?”

She waved goodbye to him as he made his way to Arthur’s chambers. The commotion in the kitchens had delayed him and Arthur was sure to complain about his tardiness. When he got to his rooms, however, he found them empty.

“He left early,” The guard informed him. “Said something about training with the knights.”

Merlin frowned. “Without his breakfast?” The prince was an absolute monster before he got his breakfast.

The guard shrugged. “It’s not my job to ask his highness questions like that. That’s your job.”

Merlin felt like maybe the guard was trying to make a point about something, but a peek out the window confirmed that the guard was right. Arthur was pummeling his knights in the training yard left and right, two lines stood off to the side, one of which was clearly filled with Arthur’s previous opponents. Merlin left the breakfast plate on his table and slipped out, not caring very much if it got cold. As always he had more important things to think about.

----

As always, Arthur enjoyed training with the knights. It let him forget about the stresses of the princely duties. Such as dealing with idiotic lords whose names might rhyme with Barvey.

He couldn’t understand why Harvey hitting Merlin had made him so angry. It wasn’t like Arthur had never tried to hit or throw things at his manservant. Usually he’d miss, or not do it too hard, but he’d certainly never aimed at his face. And it wasn’t like Merlin being more respectful would be a bad thing, per say, it’s just that then he wouldn’t be Merlin. Yes, he could be irritating, and yes, it could be embarrassing for your servant to talk back to you in front of the whole court, but that’s what made Merlin Merlin. He was one of the few people who treated Arthur like a normal person, something even his knights had trouble with at times. Arthur enjoyed talking with him, even if it was just to poke fun at him.

But why did it bother him so much?

He was snapped out of thoughts by Leon’s strike and he was forced to dodge out of the way. Merlin had been late bringing his breakfast to him that morning and a part of him was worried for his well-being. He seemed fine last night when Arthur saw him last, surely nothing could have happened since then?

“Someone’s distracted,” Morgana commented. Arthur stepped back and held up a hand for Leon to pause. He turned to glare at his father’s ward.

“What do you want?” He snapped. “I’m not in the mood to have a conversation with you right now.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re cranky, too. Come and walk with me, I need to talk with you.”

“I’m busy,” Arthur replied and gestured to the training field.

“Come on already. This is important.”

Glowering Arthur dismissed himself from practice, putting Leon in charge of drills for the rest of the time. He began walking next to Morgana, not attempting to hide his displeasure.

“Stop pouting, Arthur, it’s unbecoming for a prince.”

“Stop nagging, Morgana, it’s unbecoming for a lady.”

Morgana glared at him. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me why I pulled you from practice?”
“I figured you’d tell me eventually since it seems you love the sound of your own voice.”

“How’s Merlin doing?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “What’s it to you?”

“Because I’m not as self-absorbed as you are and can actually care about other people. I saw what that-that beast Lord Harvey did last night and I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” he muttered, unable to keep himself from glancing towards Gaiius’ chambers where he assumed Merlin was still resting. He hadn’t come to serve Arthur breakfast that morning, but if he was being honest he had left his chambers rather early and both he and Merlin had a tendency to oversleep. It helped that he hadn’t been able to sleep at all last night, too busy thinking about his father and Lord Harvey. If he was worrying his lip between his teeth as he contemplated what he would have to do to keep Merlin from Harvey’s wrath, well, that was no one else’s business.

Morgana looked at him in the way which Arthur knew meant she’d figured something out.

“It was nice of you to stand up for him,” She said innocently. If Arthur had bothered to look away from the path they were walking on he would see that she was giving him a curious side-eye.  “Most probably would’ve even agreed with Harvey. Merlin certainly has always been rather, er, honest with his opinions.”

“For the last time, I didn’t do it for him! By insulting my servant it was a direct insult to me. My honor was at stake if I didn’t call Harvey out for stepping above his place.”

She snorted. “Alright, Arthur. You don’t have to admit to me that you care about him, but you should at least tell him that he’s your friend. Merlin’s a sweetheart, he deserves to know.”

“What’s this about, Morgana?” Arthur prompted, feeling uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going. “Do you have something important to tell me or did you just come to bother me about my manservant.”

Morgana clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Stop being so impatient. I came to talk to you about Lord Harvey.”

“What about him?”

Morgana leveled him with a hard stare. “He needs to go.”

He sighed. “Morgana, I know he’s not exactly...charming, and he can be condescending at times, but there’s nothing I can do! My father has deemed him important and there’s nothing I can do or say to sway him.”

“You don’t understand,” Morgana protested, “He’s getting worse! He’s harassing servants, Gwen’s told me all about it and I’m sure if you asked Merlin he could tell you even more!”

“Merlin talked to me last night. I know that Lord Harvey is not ideal, but Father wants him on our side in case of a conflict with Cenred. Harvey’s land borders Camelot’s and Cenreds, if fighting broke out he would be an important ally and barrier. I tried to tell him, but he still wouldn’t listen to me!”

“What did Merlin have to say about it?” Morgana looked genuinely curious, something Arthur didn’t understand. Why would she care what his servant thought about some minor lordling?

He shook his head. “He told me ‘find another lordling to stick between Camelot and Cenred’. Merlin seems to think that Harvey would fold to Cenred given the chance.”

“He’s probably right!”

“What would my manservant know about politics? He’s already got a job as a servant, and he’s rubbish at that!”

“It doesn’t matter, Arthur, what matters is that Harvey is not a good ally, and Merlin seems like a good judge of character. I don’t think the king would go through all the trouble in keeping him on his side for the reasons you said. I think it’s something else.”

“Like what?”

“Like… he knows something that Uther wants to know, or Uther wants him to keep a secret. I don’t know for sure, but it’s definitely important. I can’t describe it, but I’ve had a strange feeling since he’s gotten here.”

Arthur waved his hand, turning back around to return to the knights. “Morgana, I don’t care what you do in your free time, but don’t get caught poking around, okay? Don’t screw this alliance up with Harvey. We have a delegation coming from Cenred soon and we need Harvey on our side for it to go well.”

“You’re just going to ignore this until it goes away?”

“That’s my plan, yes. There’s not much else I can do.”

Morgana glared at him. “Fine. Then I’ll have to deal with this myself.” She spun on her heel and stormed off. Arthur watched her go, confused on why she was so frustrated.

As much as he hated to admit it, Morgana was probably right. He did see Merlin as a friend, that was why he’d risked his father’s wrath in speaking back against Harvey.

Hmmm, he thought. Troubling.

Chapter Text

"Merlin! Hurry up!"

Merlin rolled over in bed, groaning. He'd stayed up much later into the night than he had intended to, practicing spells from the book of magic Gaius had given him made him lose track of time all too easily. Morning light crept in from the window that had been cracked half-open. He’d slept fitfully the past few nights, his dreams plagued with things he didn’t understand, which led him to stop trying to attempt sleep and use the time for more productive things. It was still taking a toll, as his exhausted and aching limbs made him well aware. Perhaps he should start taking some of the sleeping draughts that Gaius always prepared for Morgana.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he stood from his bed and stumbled into the main part of the physician’s chambers where Gaius sat waiting for him. He had already started eating breakfast, and if Merlin didn’t hurry he wouldn’t have the chance to have some.

“After your duties with Arthur, I’ll need you to do some things for me so I wrote them down, that way you have no excuse for forgetting them again.” Merlin groaned again. He’d had strange dreams last night which had left him with even stranger feelings. He needed to talk with his father again somehow, and hopefully soon. Once again he was left with absolutely no idea what he needed to be doing in Camelot and how much he should meddle. If they were going to get rid of the Pendragons then it would make the most sense to get a start on fixing the messes Uther had made in his reign so there was less work to do when one of the dragon generals was placed in charge of Camelot.

“Are you listening to me, Merlin?” Gaius asked. Merlin looked up to find him standing in front of him with a piece of parchment and a potion bottle.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, giving his mentor a guilty smile as he took the paper and bottle. “Just got lost in my thoughts, I guess.”

Gaius smiled fondly at him, shaking his head. “Of course you did. The only thing you need to do this morning is to bring this medicine to a little girl in the lower village. She has a chronic illness that causes her constant pain, but today I think that my old joints will not be able to get me there and back in a timely manner. I need you to administer this to her, the directions to her home and the instructions for the potion are both on the parchment paper. Any of the other chores can wait until later in the afternoon. Can you do that?”

Merlin nodded, always excited to explore the town and see new humans. A few months ago that might not have been the case, but since coming to Camelot he had grown curious about how they lived. “‘Course I can,” He said with a grin. “Need me to pick anything up for you from the market?”

“No, but make sure you don’t forget about Arthur.”
“The royal prat-

“The royal prince .”

“The royal prat can go without me serving his every whim for an hour or so. He’ll deal with it.”

Gaius sighed. “I’ll see you later in the stocks, then?”
He grinned. “Probably.”

So Merlin found himself humming a tune as he walked to the house Gaius had directed him to. It was one of the human songs and he’d grown rather fond of it. He waved to various castle servants he saw in the streets, and at last, reached a small house on the outskirts of the lower town. Merlin knocked, rereading the instructions for the medicine one last time.

A matronly woman opened the door and uneasily looked Merlin up and down.

“Can I help you?” She asked, peeking out and around the door frame as if to see if anyone else was with Merlin.

He did his best to smile politely. “I’m Merlin, the physician’s apprentice? I have medicine for a little girl named Ann-

“Oh!” She interrupted him, her expression immediately changing. She beamed at him and welcomed him inside. “Sorry,” She apologized. “I was expecting Gaius. My name is Gertrude, and Ann is my daughter.”

Merlin shook her hand (as humans did, of course), and followed Gertrude to a small bed where a frail little girl lay. Her pale skin looked paper-thin, and there was little life in her face as she slept. He was honestly a little surprised that she was breathing still. Pups shouldn’t be like this, he thought. They should be happy and full of energy like Mordred always was

“Ann,” Her mother said softly, gently rubbing her shoulder. “Your medicine is here.

The young girl slowly came to, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. She looked confused when she saw Merlin but broke out into a grin when she saw the bottle in his hands.

“I have your medicine,” Merlin said, shifting uncomfortably. He was trying not to breathe through his nose to avoid the scents of pain and sickness that radiated from the child. She was just too young to live like this, he thought.

“Okay,” She said, and she screwed her small face into a determined expression. Merlin actually found it kind of adorable. “I’m ready.”

Her mother laughed quietly. “Ann is not fond of the potion’s taste,” Gertrude explained. “But she’s very brave and takes it when she should because it might make her better.” Ann nodded in agreement. 

“If...if you don’t mind me asking,” Merlin started, unsure how to go about this. “What exactly are you sick with, Ann? I only know how much and what kind of medicine to give you, but nothing about your...illness.”

This seemed more than just a simple illness, he thought. This seemed like a curse of some kind, and not just in the metaphorical sense. It was downright cruel to inflict something like this on a child.

Gertrude sighed sadly. “We don’t know, exactly. Even when she was just a toddler, her joints ached and she got hurt too often. Her skin bruises too easily and if she gets too excited she’ll faint and be sick for days. She’s always been small and frail, as it is she’s barely allowed to leave the bed.”

“How old are you now, Ann?”

She held up her fingers. “Eight!”

Merlin smiled at her and knelt down. “Are you ready to take your medicine?” He was already resolved to cure her, even if he didn’t know how he would do it. She nodded and he unstoppered the bottle, pouring out the amount Gaius instructed. Ann drank all of it without a word of complaint. When she was finished her mouth twisted in disgust before her mother brought her a cup of water to sip.

He reached out his hand to feel her forehead, pushing his magic throughout her body in an attempt to find an issue. Merlin could sense the illness lying curled up and twisted inside of her, spreading out like a dark shadow into her skin and bones. He closed his eyes in concentration and focused.

Merlin could recognize it. It was a common curse placed on those who had angered any creature with a basic grasp of magic. Perhaps if Gertrude had been pregnant with Ann when it had happened then it could have been passed on to her through some error on the spellcaster’s behalf. It wasn’t meant to be deadly, just irritating and uncomfortable. But if it had been placed on Ann since she was an infant, well, it would make sense if the effects were more extreme. The curse would grow with the child just as she did, its side-effects only increasing with her age. He did his best to push it back so poor little Ann could get some respite from it, even if it was only temporary.

If magic hadn’t been illegal she probably would’ve been cured ages ago. Healers much more skilled than Merlin with any access to magic would have been able to reverse the curse with ease. But because of Uther, the poor little girl had had to suffer through years of pain.

The good news was that he knew how to fix it. Kilgharrah had thought he should know all kinds of magic, and even if he was rather rubbish at healing magic he could manage a simple counterspell. He would just have to be careful not to get caught. The bad news was that if he did indeed get caught, not only would he be executed, but Ann and her family would be as well.

“Is something wrong?” Gertrude asked, her lips pursed in a nervous line. “Has she gotten worse?”

“No,” Merlin said slowly. “In fact, I think she’s going to get much better soon.”

----

"Sire?" A timid voice asked from the door. Arthur spun to see one of the younger guards who probably drew the short straw and got stuck running messages to the prince. "The king requests your presence at the council meeting today."

Arthur stifled a groan. He'd been looking forward to going on a hunt today in lieu of training, but the council meeting dashed all of those plans. It also meant that Merlin needed to hurry up and bring him his outfit.

He began to pace, trying to think of what could possibly be so important that his father actually wanted him present today. Normally he told him it wasn't as important as training the knights, so unless there was a visiting dignitary it wasn't required of him to attend.

Arthur almost smacked himself as soon as he realized that there was, in fact, a visiting dignitary who would be today. Ambassador Ambrose from Cenred's kingdom was to arrive today, and the negotiations were probably going to last weeks. Not only did that mean these meetings would determine the next few years of Camelot's economic state, but Arthur would also be stuck in meeting after meeting the entire time. The fact that Lord Harvey would also be attending only made things worse. 

This put him in an even worse mood, so when Merlin finally arrived, out of breath, with his clothes, he snapped at him to hurry up. Once he was dressed, with Merlin scurrying behind him he rushed down the halls, worried he'd be late and make his father angry.

"Now Merlin," he began, "These meetings and negotiations are going to be very important. I'll be in them all day, and so will you. You need to be on your absolute best behavior-don't think I'll hesitate to have you thrown out and locked up- the entire time. None of this flippancy will fly near my father or any of his guests, got it?"

"Whatever you say, sire." 

Arthur could practically hear the mocking expression his manservant was giving him behind his back. He cast a glance over his shoulder.

“I mean it, Mer lin, this is important!”

Merlin ignored Arthur as they entered the meeting hall where Uther and the party of ambassadors waited. Arthur gestured for him to join the other servants on the side so he went, ignoring Arthur’s stern look for him to behave.

It became obvious in the first fifteen minutes of the meeting that the delegates from Cenred had absolutely no interest in a compromise. The fact that Cenred or any of his sons also couldn’t even be bothered to come to Camelot himself also seemed to irk Uther. Merlin wasn’t sure, but it seemed like the arguments were mostly over border and land disputes. The territory negotiations had been going on for years, he learned, and Merlin was positive that absolutely nothing had been accomplished except that a bunch of old men sitting at a table kept yelling at each other. 

When dragons fought, one’s roar could determine the outcome of the fight. It let the opponent know one meant business and was bigger and stronger than they were. Merlin himself had engaged in more than a few screaming matches in his life. 

In humans, however, Merlin just found it silly. The negotiating had dissolved into shouted demands, and Uther and the head diplomat from Cenred were both red in the face from the effort. To Merlin, it seemed ridiculous that the small humans would put so much effort into trying to be heard over each other because none of them possessed the ability required to claim dominance. Pathetic, really, he thought. 

It made more sense to have a hoard for yourself and then just protect that.

Dragons were typically solitary creatures, usually only interacting with others in the same clan or clutch, and even then that only happened every decade or so. Uther’s war on magic had forced the clans’ elders together more often than usual, and Merlin’s father as dragonlord had coerced certain dragons together that he thought could be useful to the cause. He gathered loners and had worked tirelessly through the years to gain their trust and exert his influence throughout the magical community. All the while Merlin had been at his side, and he was sure that if he had not been sent to Camelot he would have no doubts about his father’s mission.

The problem was that it was too vague. No one questioned his father (none of them were really able to for that matter), so Merlin still didn’t know all the details of his plan to station him in Camelot. He still trusted his father enough to stay where he was, but he needed answers and he needed them soon .

“Boy!” A voice barked, jolting Merlin from his thoughts. He turned to glare at the speaker, Lord Harvey was waving his wine goblet in front of him. “More wine?”

Merlin opened his mouth to argue that he still wasn’t his servant, he was Arthur’s , but Arthur also turned to give him a warning look like he knew exactly what he was going to say and promised him pain and regret if he went through with it. Merlin ground his teeth together but nodded politely, stepping forward to pour wine into his goblet. The ambassadors and Uther were still arguing and Arthur turned back to the conversation.

Harvey turned a mocking smile to Merlin. When he had filled the goblet up to the brim, he flicked his wrist in a movement too quick to be avoided. Crimson wine spilled down Merlin’s front, soaking through his shirt and pants and chilling his skin. Harvey’s foot shot out too, kicking Merlin’s knee back as he fell on his arse. The pitcher of wine went flying and cracked on the floor. He scrambled to his feet and stood, shocked and confused as Harvey’s mocking grin turned into irritated frustration.

“You clumsy lout!” He exclaimed, once again drawing the attention of the entire table. Harvey slammed his goblet on the table and pointed at the mess of wine on Merlin, the table, and the floor. “You’ve spilled wine all over!”

Merlin felt his face flush red, in anger or embarrassment he couldn’t tell. Perhaps both, humans always seemed to elicit the most confusing emotions from him.

“ Mer lin,” Arthur hissed. Merlin realized that he also seemed embarrassed.

“But I- He-” Merlin tried to stammer out an explanation, but between the glares from Uther and Arthur he fell silent, unsure of how to proceed. He absolutely hated how cowed he felt, and as the embarrassment turned into fury he had to clench his fists to hide the claws that were growing from his nails. He clamped his mouth shut to avoid another outburst that could reveal his fangs.

Arthur growled out, “You’re dismissed,” before turning back around to glare astutely at some papers in front of him.

Uther waved his hand in another clear dismissal, and Merlin trudged out of the council room. From behind him he could hear the murmurs of disapproval from the ambassador’s envoy.

The second he was completely out of view Merlin let the fangs grow from his mouth, letting out a low hissing noise. He stormed down the hallway to the physician’s chambers. Merlin could feel scales forming beneath his clothes only urging him to walk faster. 

Throwing open Gaius’ door he stomped up the stairs to his room, ignoring Gaius’ calling after him. He grabbed an empty satchel, having the forethought to not leave empty-handed. A shining dagger with a gold hilt embedded with rubies, a small coin purse, and a change of clothes all found themselves thrown into the bag. Letting his temper get the better of him again he slammed his door shut as he headed back down the stairs.

“Merlin!” Gaius exclaimed, looking surprised at his behavior. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going out,” He hissed, trying to ignore the way his cheeks felt like they were still flame red. Merlin could feel another growl coming up through his chest. “I’ll be back in a few days, I need to transform for a bit.”

Gaius stared at him in shock. “Are you insane? What about-what if you’re seen? You can’t just leave!”

Merlin ignored him, already out in the hallway. He made his way through the castle, astutely avoiding anyone else. The second he was outside it was not hard for him to disappear into the woods. He fell into a sprint, constantly tripping over various roots and fallen tree limbs. Some accidental magic was probably involved because he was sure he traveled further than he should have on his two human legs. The forest around him was peacefully unfamiliar, clearly far removed from any towns or cities.

At last, he reached a clearing, and throwing down his bag in frustration, let himself shift. Merlin felt his bones stretching and growing, fusing together into a different form. He let the pain distract him from the anger he felt at idiotic human princes and lords. Nothing was more satisfying than letting his wings stretch out wide and reach out across the clearing, an aggravated roar bubbling up from the pits of his stomach. The sun warmed his emerald scales as they reflected little lights around him on the trees. He let the magic in the forest surround and calm him, his own magic reaching out and connecting with the nature around him.

For a while Merlin let himself relax, simply sunning himself and pointedly not thinking about the reason why he found himself alone in an unknown forest. It was quiet and peaceful, and he was okay with not thinking about anything for a while.

Which meant it was a perfect time for him to be disturbed, the flapping of large wings and the familiar scent alerting him to the visitor.

“Young warlock,” The voice of an old dragon rumbled. “What brings you to this part of the woods?”

Merlin groaned. “Go away Kilgharrah.”

“Now that’s no way to greet your favorite teacher.”

“I said leave me alone !”

He chuckled. “Don’t you want to hear about what’s been going on at home? You have a great destiny ahead of you, Emrys, I’d hate to see you waste it wallowing away in the woods.”

“I’m not in the mood for any more of your riddles about my future,” Merlin muttered, but he sat up anyway. “And I’m not wallowing, I’m reflecting. There’s an important difference.”

Kilgharrah shook his large head, leaning back onto his hind legs to sit in front of Merlin. Merlin always forgot how ancient the great dragon was, his enormous body covered in golden scales shone like a beacon in the noonday sun. As a child, he had been endlessly fascinated with the color of his scales, overjoyed when Kilgharrah let him keep fallen scales for his own juvenile hoard. Kilgharrah was even bigger than his father, and Balinor’s own magnificent silver scales seemed to pale in comparison to Kilgharrah.

“Wallowing or reflecting, it does not matter. What’s important is that you’re not in Camelot. Why?”

Merlin glared at him. “You’re not in the Northern Caves either. What was so important that you had to leave my father?”

“Why do you think?”

“Surely you didn’t come all the way down here just to pester me about my much-needed vacation from Camelot. You came to meddle with something again, didn’t you?”

If he could, Merlin imagined that Kilgharrah would be raising eyebrows in irritation. Not that he cared, he still hadn’t forgiven Kilgharrah for telling his father all about the destiny nonsense.

Kilgharrah sighed. “Are you still upset with me for the prophecies about your future? I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, I didn’t make them myself, it's what destiny intended for you. I’m just the messenger.”

“Destiny can go fuck itself because I’m sick of being its plaything.”

The older dragon’s eyes hardened. “Emrys,” He snapped, “I’ve taught you better than that.” Merlin returned his hard glare, not caring that he was acting like a child throwing a tantrum. He knew from experience that he would not win in a staring contest with the ancient dragon, so eventually he had to sigh and look away.

“You didn’t really answer my question. What are you doing all the way out here?”
“I could ask you the same, young warlock.”

He groaned, realizing how silly it had been to rush out of the palace in such a dramatic manner. It was foolish, and he had acted impulsively out of his embarrassment.

“It’s not important,” He grumbled, looking away. “I just needed to get out of the castle for a bit.”

“Is the prince giving you trouble?”

“Sort of.” 

Kilgharrah seemed to roll his eyes. “Of course he is, you have enough things in common that you’re both too stubborn to get along.”

“Arthur and I have nothing in common!”

He sighed. “You two are two sides of the same coin. Together you will do many great things together.”

Merlin paused. That was a strange thing for Kilgharrah to say. He was supposed to be advising him on getting rid of the Pendragons, after all, they were the reason for all their suffering. Even if Merlin was mad at Arthur, though, he was beginning to feel nervous about outright betraying him. He couldn’t put a finger on his reasoning, and he’d been doing his best to avoid thinking about it.

“What are you thinking about?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? The nonsense with me and Arthur being coins?”

The older dragon hummed thoughtfully. “It’s too early to tell, I suppose. But, young warlock, know that your future holds many different possibilities. You must choose wisely.”

Merlin glared at him. “I’m getting sick of your constant speculations, Kilgharrah, I don’t want to hear about them anymore.”

“Fine. I suppose I’ll leave, then?” Kilgharrah stood, stretching out his large limbs.

“You never actually told me what you were doing so far from the caves.”

He shook his head, and suddenly the great dragon seemed much older than Merlin had ever thought. “A similar circumstance, I suppose. I grow weary of the constant bickering back home, and my own conflicting loyalties make things difficult.”

“What do you mean ‘conflicting loyalties’?”

“All will be clear in due time,” Kilgharrah said, whatever that was supposed to mean. “However, I believe it is time for me to leave. Good luck, Emrys.”

And with that, the giant golden dragon flapped his wings and ascended into the sky. Merli murmured his own farewell as he watched him slowly disappear into the distance.

Dusk slowly fell over the forest and Merlin was forced to acknowledge that he’d probably need to get back to Camelot soon. He figured cooling off in the woods for the night couldn’t hurt anything, and he could be back in time for his morning chores.

When he finally did make it back to the castle, he was immediately reminded why he had left in the first place.

“You’re late,” Arthur said by way of greeting, squinting at him in the bright light streaming through the curtains Merlin had just thrown open. “And where were you last night? You didn’t attend to me.”

“Believe it or not, sire, my entire life doesn’t revolve around you.”

“Well it bloody should. It’s what I’m paying you for.”

Merlin glowered at him. “You barely pay me anything. Certainly not enough to be worth doing this job.”

“It’s an honor to serve a member of the royal family,” The prince said haughtily.

“Who would ever think that? Fools? The royal arse is not that enjoyable to serve, you know.”

Arthur sat up, grinning. “You just called yourself a fool! I knew you would admit it someday.”

“No, I was implying that you’re the fool for thinking it. Do keep up.”

The prince sighed, and said for the hundredth time, “You can’t speak to me that way.”

“I can, and I will. Watch me.”

Merlin spun around to stare at Arthur, who mainly just looked grumpy and annoyed.

“You’re going to the stocks as soon as you’re done getting me ready.”

Merlin glared at him, saying nothing. He wasn’t quite ready to forgive Arthur, and if he was going to act like a child then Merlin would too.

“And after that, you can muck out the stable stalls for spilling that wine last night.”

He just rolled his eyes, and practically dropped Arthur’s breakfast on his table. Merlin yanked Arthur’s clothes out of the wardrobe and roughly wrangled him into them, all in perfect silence.

“No comments on my physique? I think the training has been going rather well lately, don’t you think?”

Merlin huffed and just tugged his shirt over his head.

“Oh come on, don’t you even have some complaints? Normally you can’t stop complaining. Gods, Merlin, it's like you’re physically incapable of shutting up. Are you well?”

Merlin made a rude gesture at Arthur’s back, and his mask of stony indifference fell back on his face when the prince turned back around. The silent treatment was a childish game, but Merlin had always been good at childish games.

“Where did you even go last night? Gwen said she saw you storm out and now she’s cross with me because she thinks I upset you.”

Merlin fought the urge to crack a smile at the thought of his friend angry on his behalf.

“It seems like you’re not the only one with a bad attitude. When I went to get another servant yesterday because you went missing, they all seemed irritated with me. I haven’t even done anything!” He turned around to look for his manservant’s response and found he was alone in the room. Merlin had disappeared as soon as he’d gotten the last of Arthur’s clothes on and he hadn’t even noticed.

His manservant was well on his way down the hall when Arthur had realized, however, and he’d just turned the corner when he heard the prince shout for him to come back. Merlin chuckled to himself and kept walking, confident that Arthur would not be able to find him for another few hours.

He arrived in the washroom, the last place Arthur would look for him, and sat down heavily next to a young girl washing a sheet. It was early, and his friends wouldn’t be here, but it was quiet and he wouldn’t be bothered by anyone or anything for a bit.

“Hello,” The girl next to him said softly, her cheeks coloring when Merlin finally noticed her. “What are you here for?”

He smiled warmly back at her. “I’m just here to help out for a bit. Need anything washed?”

She nodded, pointing to a basket of identical white tablecloths. One of them had a giant wine stain on it. “Lydia said we had to have all of this washed by noon, but everyone else is busy with other chores so it's just me. I don’t think I’ll have it finished in time, but if I don’t I’ll get in trouble.” Lydia was the head servant, and the old crone was notorious for being harsh on the servants, especially the younger ones.

Merlin grimaced, recognizing the wine-stained tablecloth. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you. We’ll get it done faster together.”

She smiled. “Thank you,” she replied, still in that quiet voice. “Everyone else made excuses to get out of washing them today because they knew if we didn’t get it done they’d be in trouble.”

“In trouble with who?”

She sighed. “Probably with Lydia, and probably with Lord Harvey. The man has been treating the kings’ servants like his own. Did you hear what he did to the prince’s manservant last night? Gwen said he spilled wine all over him, and then blamed the servant in front of everyone for being clumsy.”

Merlin laughed. “That was me. I’m Merlin, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Oh!” She looked surprised. “I didn’t know, everyone says that he-your-never mind,” She said, blushing heavily. “I’m...Tiana.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Tiana. I figure the least I can do is help take care of the mess I made, right?”

“But Gwen said you didn’t spill it, Harvey did. And it's going to take forever because the only way to really get red wine out of cloth is to use white wine, but Lydia forbid me from accessing any of it to help clean. Really, you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Sure, but you still shouldn’t have to pick up the whole mess by yourself.”

Tiana smiled. “You're a good man, Emrys.”

Merlin froze, realizing what she had called him.

“What did you just say?” He asked, his stomach dropping. “What did you just call me?”

The serving girl flinched. “M-Merlin, I called you Merlin, didn’t I?”

“No, you called me-”

“Merlin!”

Both Merlin and Tiana jumped at the guard's voice. He was one of the men Arthur had assigned to watch Lord Harvey, and he was standing in the open doorway of the washroom. He glared suspiciously at Merlin.

“The prince demands your presence,” He said shortly. “He said to come to his rooms immediately.”

Merlin shot another suspicious look at Tiana, who looked sufficiently cowed, and back at the knight.

“Why?” He asked.

The knight snorted. “Why? Do you really think you’re in a position now to be questioning orders? Just get up and get moving, he’s in a bad mood.” Merlin decided not to argue and instead stood to follow the guard. He shot one last suspicious glance at Tiana before the door shut.

“Did he say why he wanted to see me?” Merlin asked, probably already knowing the answer. The guard shook his head. Apparently, Arthur had tracked him down quicker than he estimated and now he was going to actually have to go to the stocks.

“It’s not my place to ask, something you should have learned by now.”
Merlin groaned. It was bad enough that he was being escorted by a guard, but it didn’t help that he got stuck with one of the uptight ones with a stick up their arse.

“This isn’t the way to Arthur’s chambers,” Merlin commented once he realized they missed the turn. “It’s back that way.”

The guard rolled his eyes. “We’re going to Lord Harvey’s chambers.” 

“But you said Arthur wanted to see me.”

“ Prince Arthur,” He corrected. “And he does want to see you. In Lord Harvey’s chambers.”

Merlin followed in irritated silence the rest of the way and refused to say anything as the guard deposited him in Lord Harvey’s chambers and stepped out, locking the door, which felt strange. Arthur wasn’t there, only Lord Harvey.

“Merlin,” He said, a sinister smile on his face. Merlin instantly felt uncomfortable and began to catalog escape routes. The window was open, but it faced the courtyard, and the prince’s manservant tumbling from a window into the crowded courtyard would certainly have some witnesses. “How lovely to see you on this fine morning.”

He grit his teeth. Harvey’s voice alone was irritating to him. All Merlin wanted to do was punch him in the face and be done with it, but he forced his head into a bow.

“My lord,” He muttered begrudgingly.

Harvey grinned. “I heard a rumor that you had a little bit of a temper tantrum yesterday after your little, ah, mishap with the wine. A little birdie told me you went off to the woods to cool down. How do you feel now?”

Merlin could feel the fire in his veins turn to ice as his anger with Harvey turned to fear that the man might know something. He wanted to run away as fast as he could but instead nodded again.

“I’m fine, my lord.”

“Good, that’s good. Now, I did have a question for you. How did you travel so quickly with no one seeing you? The patrols said nothing about a scrawny servant running off into the forest, yet you clearly left the castle for the woods.”

“I-I don’t-”

“I’ve been thinking for a while now, you see, and the only solution could be magic. I think, Merlin, that you’re a sorcerer, and that you’re conspiring against the crown. It’s clear you already control Arthur, the poor boy, and anyone else could be next. You’re certainly hiding something, that’s for sure.”

“I’m not!” Merlin denied, shaking his head vehemently. He was at a loss of how to get out of the situation. “I’m not hiding anything!”

“Then I won’t suppose you won’t mind me telling the king what a filthy sorcerer you are if you have nothing to hide?”

Merlin’s head shot up. Harvey looked too pleased with himself, grinning like he’d solved the biggest mystery.

“You know,” He started, beginning to walk around his chambers slowly in preparation for his monologue. “I always wondered why the prince let you get away with such cheek. Then, it hit me. Mind control! You’ve manipulated the poor prince’s mind with your spells-” He wiggled his fingers for emphasis. Merlin bit back a retort that magic didn’t actually work like that. “And got yourself a spot in the royal household. As we speak you could be giving away Camelot’s military secrets to her enemies, and you must be stopped.”

“You have absolutely no proof,” Merlin shot back, clenching his fists together to hide the claws that were growing from his fingertips. His instinct was to eliminate the threat immediately (there was no way the human lord could have any sort of defense against a dragon ), but logically Merlin knew that that would only cause more problems. He wasn’t panicking, not yet, because Harvey really did have no proof. He would be fine (probably).

“But I do,” Harvey said, his back straightening with confidence. “Why, I just saw you use one of your spells to attack me just now!”

Merlin froze. He hadn’t done anything, what was he talking about? Harvey walked over to the table and with a sweep of his arm knocked everything onto the floor, glass shattering and utensils clanking against the stone.

“Merlin!” He exclaimed, his tone clearly mocking. “Why are you attacking me? Stop!”

“What are you doing?” Merlin cried, nervously glancing back and forth between Harvey and the door.

“Sorcerer!” Harvey shouted, laughing as he did so. “Guards! Come help! There’s a sorcerer in my chamber!”

The door burst open and the guard who had escorted Merlin entered.

“Thank you, good sir,” Harvey said, giving the guard a conspirative wink. “This sorcerer was here to kill me! Take him away.”

“But-He’s-I’m not-” Merlin stammered, struggling weakly against the guard. He could easily break away from him, but that would mean actually using magic or supernatural strength and would definitely give real proof that Merlin was not human. “ Why?”

Harvey shrugged, looking at Merlin with a smirk. “You got in my way, and the guards are easy enough to bribe. It wasn’t hard to figure out you didn’t like me, and with how forward you are with your betters it was only a matter of time before you started spreading lies about me. The Lady Morgana, actually-” 

Merlin actually snarled at the mention of Morgana, flinging himself forward and forgetting to hold back his inhuman strength. For a moment Harvey looked scared, but as soon as Merlin had frozen and realized what he had done the guard was on top of him again. He could hear frantic footsteps down the hall, and he knew in his gut that it was more guards that were not coming to his aid. He nearly whined, trying to hold himself back while also trying to wriggle free.

The guard holding Merlin grunted, twisting Merlin’s arm further behind his back. Merin let out an involuntary hiss but was able to shut his mouth in time to keep smoke from escaping it.

“I haven’t done anything,” He snapped, trying to stall for time and figure out what he should do. He hoped Arthur would at least try to defend him, but he’d seen time and time again that Arthur faltered against his father when it came to sorcery, and he didn’t have very high hopes that he would be the exception.

What could he do? If he exposed himself now his cover would be completely blown and Gaius would be in trouble. If he did nothing and waited for Arthur he could still be killed. He would have to hope for a miracle, and if all else failed find a way to escape.

“Take him away,” Harvey said, a flick of his hand in dismissal. “Someone inform the king that a sorcerer has been found in the castle.” One of the many guards jogged down the hall to deliver the message, and Merlin could feel the walls closing in. There were seven guards, and while he could probably get away, he couldn’t do so without causing a scene. Some of them he knew and considered friends, surely they weren’t the ones Harvey had mentioned bribing?

“You won’t get away with this!”

“Oh, I think I will.”

----

Arthur was reading over his notes from the meeting when there was a knock on his door. He looked up from his work, not happy to be disturbed and still irritated with Merlin.

“Come in.”

A guard stepped in, flushed in the face as if from running. He opened his mouth a few times to say something, but then shut it again. Arthur sighed. He didn’t have time for this.

“Can I help you?” He asked, annoyance clear as he tapped his fingers on the desk. “I’m busy.”

“I-Your majesty-Sir, it’s your manservant!”

Arthur sighed again. “What’s he done now?” He stood, stretching his arms and heard the joints pop.

“Sorcery, your majesty. Lord Harvey was attacked-”

“What?” Arthur snapped. The guard blanched, doing a double-take. “He’s done what?”

“Lord Harvey says he went and attacked him in Lord Harvey’s chambers, your majesty. He sent me to tell you that he’s been sent to the dungeons.”

“Out of my way,” Arthur growled, barging past the frightened guard. He stormed all the way to Lord Harvey’s chambers, where he found the Lord peacefully sipping tea and reading a letter. The room around him was in pristine condition, and neither he nor his surroundings looked like they’d been attacked by an evil sorcerer.

“What is the meaning of this?” The prince demanded, slamming his fist on the table. “You have absolutely no grounds to arrest my servant!”

“Arthur,” Harvey started, setting his tea down primly. “It’s good to see you as well. It’s a lovely morning, isn’t it?”

“Why was Merlin arrested?”

“Oh, you mean the sorcerer you’ve been employing as an incompetent manservant for quite some time now?”

“I-He’s not a sorcerer!”

“I should think you would be glad to see him go.” He shook his head, giving Arthur a condescending look. “Don’t you think you’re being rather naive? This man, nay, boy , arrived out of nowhere, and immediately got a job as your personal servant. He quickly managed to get into everyone’s good graces despite constantly being out of hand, and he faces no consequences for his actions. Either the Pendragons have gone softer than women or they’ve been enchanted. For the sake of the kingdom I hope it's the latter.”

Arthur stared at him, eyes wide and full of disbelief. He’d never had anyone, except maybe his father, speak to him this way. Earlier he’d insisted he’d defended Merlin because of his own honor, and it was true, but now he found himself more enraged by the dismissal of his servant’s character. Merlin could be...childish, immature, and an incompetent idiot at times, but he was well-liked for a reason, and it wasn’t because of magic. He was kind and compassionate to everyone around him. He complained constantly about his own chores, but Arthur noticed that if one of the other servants mentioned being overwhelmed he immediately offered to help them. Even the knights were fond of him because despite his constant grousing about their treatment of him he always helped the squires or knights who struggled with anything. Surely an evil sorcerer wouldn’t do that.

“You have no right,” He said, slowly and calmly. “To speak to me that way. Merlin is one of the best men I know. I will personally vouch for him. He is no sorcerer, and as such he does not belong in the dungeons.” 

“I saw him with my own eyes and I can tell you he deserves the pyre,” Harvey continued as if Arthur had never spoken. “He came in here and-”

“I don’t care what you say you saw,” He said bluntly. “I’m going to speak to my manservant and he will tell me the truth. Regardless of what he says, there will be consequences to your overstep. It is the job of my father and I to manage our household, not yours.”

“But-”

“Harvey,” Arthur said, “Do shut up.”

Arthur turned away, leaving the sputtering lord behind him as he walked out. “You,” He said, pointing at one of the guards in the hallway. “Bring my manservant to my chambers immediately.”

“But Lord Harvey-”

“Who is in charge? Me, the crown prince, or some lordling?”

The guard paled and rushed to follow through on the order. Arthur stomped after him. They arrived in the dungeons, and Arthur coughed on the musty air. 

“He’s in one of these cells,” the guard sputtered, “He must be!”

Arthur realized they were almost at the end of the corridor of cells, and Merlin had not been in a single one. He turned to the guards watching the dungeons. 

“Where has my manservant gone?”

They shrugged. “He should be in the cell at the far end on the right. Put him there myself.”

There was not, in fact, a Merlin in any of the cells, and the cell at the far end on the right was empty.

Arthur saw red. He didn’t know what to feel right now. He couldn’t decide if he was angrier at Harvey, for doing this to Merlin, at Merlin, for escaping the royal dungeons, or himself for not listening to Merlin and getting rid of the lordling. Merlin was going to get a good talking to when Arthur finally got ahold of him.

Chapter Text

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Merlin was thoroughly pissed off. His day had started out badly, had continued to not get better, and it didn’t look like it was on track to only get worse. On the bright side, however, dragon claws made it a hell of a lot easier to scale stone castle walls (something Merlin was taking advantage of at the moment).

If Arthur had just listened to him, then they wouldn’t be in this situation. Harvey would be well on his way back to whatever hole he had crawled out of and Merlin would be worrying about some other thing. Instead, Merlin had been accused of magic, and now if he didn’t fix things he would have to flee Camelot. Merlin’s mission, whatever it was, hadn’t yet been completed, so that wouldn’t do.

He hauled himself through Harvey’s window after checking that no one was in the room. The claws slowly retracted and he stretched his arms, trying to get rid of the burn in his muscles that it had taken to climb up Harvey’s tower. Dragons were a lot stronger than humans, Merlin thought, and he still hadn’t figured out how humans had survived for so long.

With a flick of his wrist and a murmured spell, the door locked, ensuring that no one would come into the lord’s chambers to find an arrested servant poking about.

Merlin began to go through everything in the desk, drawers, and even the bedding in the hopes of finding some incriminating evidence of Lord Harvey. There was nothing on his desk except letters to people named Morcades and Agravaine. He skimmed through them and didn’t find anything too incriminating, just talking about forming various alliances. Merlin had never heard of either of them, but then again he was no expert on human politics.

There was, however, a curious box underneath Harvey’s pillow. It was locked, and despite wiggling his claw along the edges it refused to open. Merlin frowned at it. There was a small keyhole, but he couldn’t remember any key being on Harvey’s person. Another quiet spell was also unable to find a key in his rooms, so Merlin pocketed the box and moved on. Locking things with magic was quite easy, it was the unlocking part that was difficult. He had time and he could figure out how to crack open the box later.

Merlin thought hard about what he would do if he had to hide something that could get him arrested and thrown out of the castle. Ironically he didn’t have to try too hard, as the book of magic Gaius had given him was currently stashed under the loose floorboards beneath his bed along with other trinkets. He got on his hands and knees and began to poke around on the floor.

“Aha!” He hissed quietly, letting his nail grow long to pry up a loose board.

An amulet of a golden serpent coiled around a green emerald glowed softly against the silk it had been nestled in. Next to it was a vial filled with a shimmery liquid. Both of which Merlin was positive were magical. That would be enough to get Harvey executed, if he was a normal person, but Merlin wasn’t naive enough to think he would be so easily believed.

Voices from down the hall startled him from his thoughts. He recognized one of them being the lord and the other one of the advisors he had brought with him. Realizing that he had less than a minute to make a decision, Merlin shoved the vial and amulet back under the floorboard and pushed the board back into place. The footsteps were even closer now.

Merlin threw open the door to the armoire but found it stuffed with clothes. He cast a quick glance to the door as the handle began to rattle.

“Damn door,” Harvey muttered. The locking spell must still be on, Merlin thought. “If that brat of a prince decided to lock me out of my room I’ll kill him myself.” He fought to keep the growl in his throat. Only Merlin was allowed to threaten the prince’s life.

“That’s what the poison is for, my Lord. Or perhaps the amulet, if you’re clever enough.”

The space between the bed and the floor was too tight to squeeze under, and this particular room didn’t have a servant’s passage directly into the chambers. The only other option, Merlin quickly realized, was the window. 

Which would be fine, that’s how he had gotten in the first place, but when he had climbed up he had specifically timed it so no one would be in the courtyard. A bale of hay just outside the gate had done the trick when it suddenly and inexplicably burst into flame. Now, however, various servants and guards were bustling about, and a patrol of knights had just rounded the corner.

Merlin moved back from the window a little too quickly, and one of his knobby elbows knocked over a vase sitting next to the sill. He jumped as the porcelain shattered on the floor. The men outside the door stopped trying to jiggle the handle open.

“Is someone in there?” Harvey shouted in a demanding tone. “Answer me!”

Swearing under his breath, Merlin looked out the window again. No one was looking directly at the window, but the chances of someone looking as he climbed down were...very high. Harvey banging on the door startled him, and he realized that a fall from this height would probably not kill him. Probably. 

With one last look at the door, and another out to the courtyard to make sure no one was staring at the tower, Merlin leapt over the window ledge.

----

“Sire?”

Arthur turned from where he had been pacing in his rooms at the sound of his knight’s voice. Leon stood hesitantly at the door, only entering when Arthur nodded.

“I heard that Merlin was…”

“Arrested, yes.”

Leon blinked. Arthur understood the sentiment. Merlin could be lackadaisical in his duties, impertinent at times, and perhaps a little too bold for his own good, but it was hard to imagine him doing something so terrible to be seriously arrested for it. Yes, Arthur had put him in the stocks before, but that didn’t really count.

“If you don’t mind me asking, sire, but what for?”

Arthur sighed, rubbing a tired hand across his face. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I wasn’t the one to arrest him, Lord Harvey was. He claims that Merlin is a sorcerer.”

Leon raised an eyebrow in obvious disbelief. “Merlin? A sorcerer?”

Arthur nodded. “Yes, I know. You’d have an easier time convincing me he’s some mythical creature with wings. The man can barely tie his own bootlaces.” 

His head knight chuckled at the joke. Merlin and magic? Ridiculous.

“I suppose I don’t understand what you called me here for, then. Obviously you know he’s innocent. Haven’t you already...”

“Of course,” He groaned. “Merlin is pardoned because I’m not naive enough to believe some jilted lord that my manservant is set on destroying Camelot. I need your help to find Merlin. The idiot somehow managed to escape the cell Harvey had him put in and now no one can find him. I need you to get ahold of him before he does something stupid that’s actually illegal.”

Leon nodded. “Of course, sire. I’ll fetch some of the other knights to help as well.”

“Actually,” Arthur said with a grimace. “I suppose I’ll need another thing. Do your best to keep this fairly quiet, I don’t need my father getting wind that there’s a suspected sorcerer loose in the castle. I want to hear Merlin speak before Harvey gets my father’s ear.”

“Of course,” Leon repeated, leaving his chambers.

----

Bushes, Merlin found out, were not as cushioning as they looked from three stories up. 

He had landed in a sprawl of limbs that would most certainly ache for the next month, but nobody seemed to have noticed a manservant falling from a window. Spitting out leaves, he attempted to stand up. 

Merlin quickly realized that one, human bodies were really not meant for falling from high places, and two, he possibly had a head injury. In the mountains he had played a game with fellow dragonets where they would take turns leaping off various ledges and seeing how long they could freefall before they had to thrust their wings out. Merlin had fallen from much higher heights onto rockier terrain multiple times in a row and had been perfectly fine. 

Now, his ankle was throbbing, and he had to blink spots away from his vision. The human body really was flimsy, and once again he marveled at how far humans had gotten without going extinct. Leaning against the wall he was able to hobble out of the patch of bushes he had landed in.

Merlin limped back into the castle and did his best to avoid detection. When he ducked into a niche in the wall after catching the footsteps of a few maids, he heard them gossiping about the prince’s manservant being arrested. Their fearful whispers of a sorcerer on the loose only further motivated him to stay out of sight.

By the time Merlin made it to Gaiius’ chambers he was red in the face and out of breath. He had never been so relieved to see the old physician’s rooms.

Gaiius, on the other hand, was not as pleased.

“Merlin!” He exclaimed, setting down the book he had been reading. “Where on earth have you been? Gwen came by just a few minutes ago and said you’d been arrested for sorcerery. Please tell me she was mistaken.”

Merlin winced.

“ Merlin.”

“For the record, I didn’t actually do any magic at all. Lord Harvey is just trying to get me arrested for some reason.”

Gaiius raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Really!” He insisted. “He called me to his room, and then he just...started throwing things. Then he called a guard for help and told him that I had attacked him with magic!” 

It was hard for Merlin to read the expression on the old man’s face. He looked even more weary than usual as he sat down with a heavy sigh. Merlin looked away and began to make a potion he had been taught to rid the body of aches and pains in an attempt to make his injuries feel better.

“You know the king will never take your word over a lord’s,” Gaiius said, his face settling into a grim expression. Merlin sat across from him with a book of potions from the shelf and began to flick through it in an attempt to find the golden liquid he had seen earlier. “And Arthur is a good lad who may defend you, but I doubt Uther would refrain from an execution even if his son pleaded to him.”

“I think Harvey is planning something to hurt Arthur. After I was arrested I snuck back into Harvey’s rooms-”

“You what?” Gaiius hissed in shock.

“It was perfectly safe!” Merlin exclaimed. “I made sure the courtyard was empty by setting a hay bale on fire and then I climbed the tower with my claws so the guards wouldn’t see me going in through the door.”

With his face in his hands, Gaiius muttered “Goddess save us.”

“Anyways,” Merlin continued, “I found an amulet and a vial of what looks like liquid gold. I know they’re both magic, and I think that the vial had poison in it. Don’t you see?”

“Merlin-”

“I need to warn Arthur!” Merlin said, standing up abruptly. “Dinner is in less than an hour!”

“Merlin!” Gaiius repeated. “What you need to do is leave the city, and quickly! The second one of Uther’s men gets a hold of you there will be no second chances. You’ll be burned at the pyre, and...”

“Relax.” Merlin turned towards the door. “I’ve survived this long. What's the worst that could happen?”

Merlin made it all the way down two hallways before he ran smack into Sir Leon.

“Merlin?” He asked, shock coloring his voice.

“Hello, Leon. I was just heading to dinner. It’s good to see you!” He had time to turn and take two steps before the burly knight clutched his arm tightly.

“I’m sorry about this, Merlin,” He said. Dammit, thought Merlin, he hated how sincere the knight sounded. “Arthur needs to talk to you before any of the other guards get a hold of you and string you up for escaping the cell.”

“Leon,” Merlin warned, “Let me go. This is important.”

“Come on,” He said gently, firmly pulling the manservant along with him. Merlin recognized that they were going the way to Arthur’s chambers and not the dining hall.”

“Are we going to see Arthur?” He asked nervously, following Leon obediently but still occasionally testing his grip. “Because last time a guard came to me and said Arthur wanted to see me I got brought to Harvey and arrested for sorcerery.”

Leon frowned. “Which guards arrested you for Harvey?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask for their names, I was a little too busy trying not to get skewered on a sword.”

The door to Arthur’s had never before looked this imposing. Leon knocked, and when no answer came he opened it.

Arthur was not in the room, and the guard posted outside informed them that Lord Harvey had already come by to personally bring the prince to dinner. A cold feeling twisted in his gut.

“Are you sure?” Merlin asked. “He went with Harvey?”

The guard nodded. “The lord said it was important the prince was on time, and he sent for another servant to be the prince’s cupbearer. I think they started dinner early for some sort of ceremony.”

Merlin turned to Leon as the guard returned to their post. “This is bad,” He said. “You need to let me go. Arthur is in danger!”

Leon frowned again. “Merlin, why would you think that? I’m sure the prince is fine.”

“No-He’s-It’s Harvey! He’s going to do something at dinner tonight, don’t you see?”

Leon sighed. “Just wait here while I go get the prince. Stay put and he’ll come back and sort everything out. He thinks you’re innocent, I promise.”

“No, that’s not-Leon!”

Merlin watched in dismay as the knight left the room and shut the door behind him. He heard him give strict instructions to the guards outside the chambers.

Perhaps it would be better to wait, Merlin tried to reason with himself. The chances of Harvey being so bold as to attempt to kill a member of the royal family during a very public dinner were low. Perhaps Merlin was overreacting.

Merlin waited nearly twenty minutes and when no one came back with the prince he realized he had to do something. He opened the door and found both men standing guard fast asleep on the ground. A quick whiff of the air told Merlin all that he needed to know: magic was involved.

Merlin swore.

----

Arthur had been more than surprised when Harvey came to his chambers to personally bring him to dinner. The lord seemed to have forgotten any quarrel they had had. They had made meaningless small talk all the way to the hall and Arthur tried not to imagine punching him in the face. 

“I felt partially responsible for your manservant’s absence, so I sent for one of my boys to serve you tonight,” Harvey said politely. Arthur raised an eyebrow at the handsome youth who stood next to his chair holding a pitcher of wine.

“That’s certainly...kind of you.”

The lord grinned. “Adriel here will ensure your cup is filled tonight. I do hope you enjoy the evening, my lord. I heard that it will be quite entertaining.”

Before Arthur could ask what he meant by that Harvey had already walked off. He scowled. He had planned on waiting in his chambers for someone to bring Merlin to him, but he couldn’t refuse the lord’s personal invitation without creating problems for his father. 

True to his word, Adriel kept refilling Arthur’s goblet before it was even half empty. The wine tonight must have been brought by one of the visiting group of ambassadors. He didn’t recognize the exotic taste, and the red liquid seemed to almost shimmer gold in the candle light. Regardless he enjoyed the buzzing feeling it quickly gave him.

Arthur found himself not caring so much about Harvey’s accusations against Merlin. He could deal with them later on. The wine, however, was splendid, and he should enjoy it right now.

“What variety is this?” Arthur asked Adriel, his words slightly slurring. “Did your lord bring it?”

Adriel smiled charmingly. “Yes, sire, he did.”

Arthur nodded in appreciation, not noticing the servant had not actually answered his first question. All around him other members of the court could be seen enjoying the wine as well. He watched as normally uptight lords and ladies got tipsier much faster than normal. Even the king seemed to have an amused smile gracing his lips. Arthur couldn’t help smiling either.

A tap on the shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Your highness,” A voice said, and Arthur turned to see Leon standing behind him. “I found him.”

The prince blinked. Leon’s face seemed to be slightly blurry, something that Arthur found extremely irritating. “Found who?”

“Merlin, sire, like you asked. He’s waiting in your chambers now and he seems quite distressed.”

Arthur waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Sire, are you...drunk?”

The moment the words left Leon’s mouth Harvey seemed to appear out of nowhere behind them with an extra goblet of wine.

“Sire Leon!” He exclaimed. “It’s so good of you to join the celebration, please, enjoy the wine I brought from my own personal vineyards!”

The lord tried to hand Leon the goblet, but the knight gently refused. “Apologies, my lord, but I don’t drink while I’m working.”

Lord Harvey laughed like he had just said the funniest joke in the world. “All work and no play! Come on, I’m sure your prince wouldn’t hold a grudge against you if you relaxed a bit, would you Arthur?”

Arthur blinked again. The lights on the candles were getting fuzzier, and he wasn’t sure he was enjoying the floating sensation in his head.

“Arthur, I said, don't you think Leon should have some wine?”

As the words left his mouth, Arthur found himself nodding in agreement as Adriel filled his cup again.

“It’s-s’good wine, Leon,” Arthur drawled. “Should-you should take a break, or somethin-”

“Sire-”

Adriel wasted no time in pouring Arthur’s nearly full cup into Leon’s mouth. The knight sputtered, but after the first few gulps he instantly relaxed. The lord watched in glee as the agitation drained from the knight’s face

“It’s good,” He said cautiously.

Harvey grinned.

----

There were a lot of things Merlin was expecting to see when he burst into the great hall after passing many servants fast asleep on the ground, but the entire court seemingly in the throes of revelry was not one of them. This wasn’t the first time someone had tried to overthrow Camelot on Merlin’s watch. However, they tended to have a flair for the dramatic, perhaps with an entire army or some grandiose spell in a thunderstorm. Usually there was some villainous declaration of burning the kingdom to the ground with no mercy.

Merlin watched as couples danced freely around the room despite there still being food on the tables. No one seemed particularly on guard or anxious, in fact many of the knights and guards all had abandoned their posts and were mingling with the crowd. Even Uther himself was smiling, something in and of itself that Merlin found strange; Uther never smiled.

Not caring if he got caught, Merlin twisted through the crowd to reach the head of the table where the king and prince sat. Uther was busy chatting with a noble lady, while Arthur had drawn quite a small crowd around him.

The prince sat in his chair while Lord Harvey sat next to him with an arm draped around his shoulders. Leon, looking rather dazed and confused, stood behind the pair, slowly sipping from a goblet. Another servant, presumably Merlin’s replacement for the evening, stood in his normal place holding a ginormous pitcher of wine.

Nothing about the evening feast seemed too out of place. Everyone was happy and gouging themselves on good food, as they always did. People danced to the upbeat music of the minstrels, and everyone was drinking the wine. Despite the normality, Merlin couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was off.

A servant brushed by, and without even asking if he would like one forcibly shoved a goblet into his hands.

“Enjoy!” The youth chirped. “Lord Harvey was gracious enough to bring us all a wine to share from his own personal stores!”

Before Merlin could ask any questions the boy had whisked by and was already handing another goblet to a courtier.

The moment he heard who supplied the evening’s wine, Merlin felt his hackles raise. He looked into the deep red wine and swirled it. Large chunks of gold caught his eye, and his draconic instincts were immediately drawn to the way it glimmered in the light. Dipping a finger into the wine left a tingling sensation, and he whipped his head up to re-observe the scene in front of him.

Aside from the couples dancing with wild abandon, most of the courtiers seemed rather dazed as they chatted to one another. Merlin caught different hints of conversation, but everything seemed like incoherent rambling; it was certainly too early in the night for anyone to be drunk. His eyes were drawn to where Arthur was sitting, and he notarized that the prince seemed ready to fall asleep while Harvey continued to prattle on like he was full of life.

Another glint of gold caught Merlin’s dragon eye, and he recognized the serpent amulet he found earlier dangling around the lord’s neck.

Merlin had already put it together by the time he was striding over to where Arthur sat. The wine was drugged with something, most likely the vial he found in the rooms earlier. He wasn’t exactly sure what the necklace was, but it was certainly doing something. He could feel the magic emanating from the bright green emerald of the serpent, and there was no way that Harvey alone could generate that much magical power.

Before he could reach the end of the table he was blocked by the servant who had taken his place by Arthur's side. The handsome man held out another goblet for Merlin, seemingly ignoring the one already in his hands.

“Drink, my friend!” He said jovially. “Tonight is a night for celebration!”

Immediately he recognized the voice as the one speaking with Lord Harvey before he came into his rooms. Cautiously he accepted the goblet. Merlin’s fingers brushed up against the man’s and he felt the familiar tingle of another magical being.

“May I ask what we are supposed to be celebrating?” Merlin attempted to discreetly scent the air, and while he couldn’t put his finger on it amongst the bodies of all the others in the hall, the man in front of him was certainly not ordinary. 

He grinned. “Why, the celebration, of course!”

“What celebration?”

The man laughed. While Merlin had noticed that sometimes humans laughed for strange reasons, he couldn’t figure out what he had said was so funny. What were they celebrating?

“Come, my friend! You should speak with my lord.”

Merlin began to dig his heels in as soon as the strong man's hand wrapped around his arm and began to drag him over to where Arthur was sitting, but he was unable to do much without looking suspicious against the man’s surprising strength. The prince’s eyes were glazed over, and he seemed to just be nodding along as Harvey prattled on.

Harvey looked over as Merlin approached, and a startled look appeared on his face. It only lasted for a moment, though, and his expression soon turned to amusement.

“Arthur,” He said, nudging the prince. “I believe your escaped manservant has finally graced us with his presence. Do you have anything to say to him?”

Arthur said nothing and simply shook his head while he continued to stare into his wine glass. That was worrying, Merlin thought. He wasn’t sure what drug had been put in the drinks, but it seemed to be fairly potent. Arthur could hold his alcohol, and it was too early for him to be in such a stupor. Besides, when Arthur was drunk he just got more talkative 

Merlin tried not to focus too hard on how much personal information he knew about the prince. It just came with the job, right?
Harvey slapped Arthur on the shoulder in what looked like (to the untrained eye) friendly camaraderie, but even Merlin had to try not to wince at the strength he used. The lord was smirking at him.

“Last time I saw you, Merlin, you were being arrested for treason. What are you doing at the feast tonight?”

“Just watching out for anything strange,” He said slowly. Merlin tried to take a step closer to Arthur but the man holding his arm held him back. “What did you put in the wine?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“You drugged the entire court with something. What was it?”

“Nothing important.”

Merlin hissed. “You used magic here. That’s illegal.”

“You would know, what with being a sorcerer.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. Harvey wasn’t going to tell him anything without proper threats, and Arthur was too out of it to be any assistance. 

“You’re trying to get rid of Uther and Arthur,” Merlin said. It wasn’t quite a shot in the dark (approximately 93% of Camelot’s enemies had that same goal, and Merlin would know because he did the math), but he was still somewhat surprised when the lord’s eyes widened in shock.

“Perhaps. But there’s nothing you can do about it at this point. Tomorrow morning the court will wake up with a spectacular hangover to find their king choked on his own vomit and the crown prince dead from a high fall. The ones who drank the most tonight will be the most suggestive, but even the most sober won’t question the royalty’s overindulgence. How unfortunate that no one was there to keep Arthur from walking off the wall in a drunken stupor, nor to tilt the aging king onto his side.”

“Then what? There’s a succession crisis? You don’t gain anything from that.”

He smiled at Merlin like he knew something he didn’t. Which, Merlin supposed, was the case.

“Magic, despite its legal status, can do a number of impressive things. Earlier this evening the king and his court were allowed to sample undiluted wine from my personal stores. It made them quite agreeable, and I’m quite proud to say that you are staring at the future husband of the beautiful Lady Morgana. Camelot will welcome us and my heirs with open arms.”

“Has Morgana agreed to this?” He asked sardonically. “I can’t imagine she would want to saddle herself with someone as pathetic as you.”

Harvey grimaced. “Morgana’s attitude will need some work, I admit. I expected the wine to work better with her, but she seemed strangely resistant.” His expression brightened in sick pleasure. “Not to worry! I’ll work it out of her eventually. It’s a shame Arthur has to go as well, I would enjoy beating the stubbornness out of him.”

He didn’t bother trying to hide his growl as he bared his teeth. His canines had already begun to elongate. Merlin enjoyed how the lord jumped back, startled.

“You’re going to do what?” He hissed. At this point Merlin was sure that anyone important around him was too drunk to care. He shook the man off of his arm harder than he meant to as the force pushed the man to the floor. Advancing quickly he grabbed Harvey by the neck and dragged him through the servant’s passage. It was too dark and the music was too loud for anyone to notice the manservant dragging a lord through the palace.

Merlin did not slow as he marched up the stairs to the North tower, ignoring the choking noises Harvey made and the scratches on his arm he tried to leave. In his fury patches had begun to appear on Merlin’s skin, covering his arms and face in impenetrable armor that human nails couldn’t hope to break. His fingernails had elongated into claws and Merlin relished the feeling of blood prickling up from where he pressed into the skin too hard.

Any guards or servants that he passed were fast asleep on the ground as if they collapsed in the middle of their tasks. Merlin multitasked as he walked, beginning to try and unravel whatever spell had been placed on the palace.

When they reached the uppermost room of the tower, empty except for sparse furnishings and a few maps on the wall as it once belonged to a long past astrologist, Merlin threw the whimpering lord to the ground. Hard.

Kneeling down, Merlin used one razor sharp nail to lift the terrified lord’s face up to look at him. Merlin held back a laugh at how he flinched at his eyes which at this point had turned a serpentine yellow with thin slits.

“Tell me, Harvey, what the fuck did you put in the wine?”

“I-I don’t know!” He insisted. Merlin could hear the man’s pounding heart and could feel the rushing blood beneath the pad of his finger. He may have been in the shape of a man, but Emrys was still an apex predator.

Merlin laughed coldly. “You’ll have to try a little harder than that. Tell me where you got it or I start ripping off appendages.”

“I-I don’t-” Harvey stammered, the stench of fear permeating the room. Merlin was pretty sure he had soiled himself. “A-Adriel! He showed me the potion and he mixed it into the wine! Then-then he gave me the amulet to convince them-”

“Oh really?” Merlin cocked his head as he studied him. Of course he would try to put the blame on someone else, but the man was so terrified that Merlin doubted he’d be a convincing liar. “And who is this Adriel?”

“I am.”

Merlin did not release the lord as he looked up at the figure in the doorway. The young man who had been serving wine to Arthur stepped into the room, slightly out of breath. Away from the crowd Merlin realized what he was.

“You’re a druid,” He said. “And a rather powerful one, it seems.”

The druid inclined his head and bowed. “Of course, Emrys. I am always eager to use my powers for the cause. I apologize for the secrecy, my lord.”

“What-” Harvey started to say, but Merlin had already thrown him aside.

Yellow slitted eyes stared down pale green ones.

“ You’re the one responsible for tonight?” Merlin asked calmly. His tone was cold and calculated.

Druids, like many magical beings, were illegal in Camelot, and Uther delighted in having them executed. Balinor had made a treaty with the druids not too long ago, and Merlin understood they were on friendly terms. But he wasn’t stupid enough to head into a fight with another magical being without knowledge of how powerful his opponent was.

“I am,” Adriel said proudly. “I’ve waited my whole life to meet you, and I’m overjoyed that we got to meet after my plan was a success.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “And what, exactly, was your plan?”

“Well,” He straightened, eyes lighting up in excitement. “The potion that I administered through the lord’s wine makes any who drink it much more agreeable. The more they drink the lower their inhibitions are, it’s much like drinking regular ale. I believe the lout over there-” he gestured in annoyance to Harvey who lay in a heap on the floor, “-blabbed most of it to you, but with the king and prince out of the way the only one who could stand to inherit the king’s throne is his ward and illegitimate daughter.”

“His what?”

“The lady Morgana is Uther’s illegitimate child, but with no other heirs and her as his official ward makes it almost as good as full blood relation. Harvey would serve his purpose by creating a figurehead who could be used to change the laws regarding our people, and he gets the title of king. It was easy enough to convince him to go through with things once I pointed that out.”

“And everything else? You were going to kill the king and prince, right? What happened to all of the servants and guards asleep throughout the palace?”

He shrugged. “Like I said, both the king and prince are in a stupor from the wine. I’m surprised they haven’t collapsed yet, actually, and done the job for us. The potion becomes toxic when ingested in large quantities. As for non-members of the court,” Adriel smiled kindly, “Whom I have no quarrel with, were put to sleep with a spell if they did not drink the wine. They should wake up in a few hours.”

“What’s the cure for the potion you put in the wine?”

Adriel blinked, looking confused. “Why does it matter? I assure you that if you had any you would have only had a small amount and will be fine. Only the king and prince, who we gave the largest dosages to, are in danger.”

“Tell me,” Merlin growled, taking another step forward. “What is the antidote?” His mask of indifference was gone and he allowed the rage to come through.

“It’s a mix of poppy seeds, dragon root, and honey.” The druid’s confidence drained slowly from his face as he matched Merlin’s step forward with one that took him closer to the door.

“And do you have any antidote on you?”

Adriel licked his lips. “N-no, sire.” Merlin growled in annoyance. This only made his task of saving the prince even harder.

Another figure appeared at the doorway.

“I know how to make it,” The voice whispered softly. He recognized her immediately as Wynna, the girl from the wash earlier. Now that Merlin was focused he could tell that she was also a druid, though significantly less powerful than Adriel.

“Wynna,” Merlin said hoarsely. “Did you know about this?”

Her lip quivered. “I-Adriel is my brother, sire, and the only person I have left. I came to Camelot with him and I knew he had plans, but I didn’t know what they were.” Merlin could smell the salt from the tears that were beginning to brim in her eyes. “I swear, if I knew how fond you were of the prince I would have stopped him.”

“I’m not fond of the prince!” Merlin said instinctively, as if in reflex. “I just don’t think he should be killed so...dishonorably like this.”

“Of course,” Wynna agreed, tilting her head. Merlin couldn’t shake the feeling that she was merely humoring him. He didn’t like her knowing smile which reminded him all too much of Mordred’s. “Would you like me to make the antidote?”

Merlin sighed. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

She nodded again. “I will bring it to you as soon as it is ready.”

“Wynna!” Adriel chided. “What are you doing? The Pendragons are our enemy! Or have you forgotten what they’ve done?”

“Emrys seems to like the prince well enough,” She said, “And he has always been kind to me.” Wynna turned to leave but her brother lunged forward to clasp her arm tightly.

“If you take so much as-”

“Leave her be.”

Adriel suddenly found himself pinned against the wall by invisible restraints. Merlin stood with his hand outstretched, his eyes glowing gold.

“Wynna, go to Gaiius’ chambers. He will most likely be asleep but you may use any ingredients that you deem necessary.”

“If you save that bastard-”

“Shut up,” Merlin snapped. He gestured for the young druid girl to leave and she scampered off. “I’ve had an awful evening and I’m in a bad mood. It’s in your best interests to cooperate.”

Adriel glared at him defiantly. 

“You’re Emrys,” He spat out. “You’re supposed to save us from those monsters! The prophecies tell of a savior who will deliver us from the evil-”

“In my personal experience prophecies tend to be the wishful thinking of hermits who choose people at random to solve their problems for them. How dare you assume I would help a plan as reckless as this.”

“But-”

“Aside from the murder of the prince and his father, you would be condemning an innocent woman to a marriage with an abusive, snobbish, and cruel man. Harvey is incompetent and has no experience managing a kingdom, and with bad leadership the people of Camelot will suffer. And did you really think that Harvey would repeal the ban on magic? It’s not an easy thing to do and he’s not truly invested in it. Your plan was half thought out at best, and would have only done more harm than good. I suspect that Harvey would abandon you and have you and your sister both executed as soon as he was in power. You provided him an easy scapegoat for the extremely suspicious deaths of the royal family.”

Adriel seemed at a loss for words as he stuttered out a weak defense. “You’re supposed-supposed to side with us!”

“I don’t care,” He snapped again. “I’ve grown fond of some of the humans here in Camelot. At the moment they’re under my protection, and if you have a problem you have to come through me.”

The druid managed to wrench an arm from Merlin’s restraints and he threw a hand up to cast an attack spell against him. Merlin dismissed the feeble attempt with a flick of his wrist. Adriel glared at him, anger obvious in the way his jaw muscles clenched.

“Were you working with anyone else?” Merlin asked curtly. “Or was it just you, your sister, and Harvey?”

“Just...just me and the lord. Wynna had nothing to do with this.”

He tilted his head. “I believe you.”

“Please,” Adriel said, beginning to sound desperate. “Please leave her out of this. She was telling the truth when she said she didn’t know about our plan. Our parents were murdered by Uther when she was young and I’ve raised her ever since.”

Merlin observed the pleading expression in his eyes. He could understand the feeling of responsibility to protect someone, he felt the same twists of worry and concern for Mordred back home. He’d watched over the young dragon for years since he had been abandoned almost right after he had hatched. 

He wasn’t sure what to do with the druids. Harvey had to go, of course, and Merlin would enjoy that part. Adriel and Wynna, however, were kindred spirits. Merlin knew why Adriel had gone for assassination, and he understood the desperation that created such a weak plan.

“You and Wynna will leave Camelot,” Merlin spoke slowly but surely. “And you will not come back. I can grant you safe passage to the border, and from there you’re on your own. I understand why you did what you did tonight, even if I don’t like it. I’m not sure I could hold it against you.”

“And the lordling?”

Merlin grinned. “Not your concern. I’ll deal with him.”

Adriel nodded slowly. “You’re really going to just...let us go?”

His temper could flare quickly, but it wasn’t impossible for him to see reason. Adriel and Wynna were hurt and scared, and in his short sightedness Adriel thought the best solution was to kill Arthur and Uther. “Yes,” Merlin said. “I will let you go.”

Adriel still looked as if he didn’t believe him.

“Go to you and your sister’s chambers and wait there until morning. I’ll bring you two to the border before the sunrises, and from there you’re on your own.” The druid hurried off, and Merlin felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders. A wicked grin spread onto his face as he turned back to the cowering lordling.

“Now whatever shall I do with you?” He drawled, taking a few steps forward. “I don’t suppose I can let you go with a warning like them, after all, you’re much more likely to tell the truth now you know what I really am.”

“No!” He insisted. “I-I don’t know anything! I’ll be quiet! Please!”

“You were ready to have me executed.”

“Please” He repeated. “I’ll do anything! What do you want? I-I have gold and-and jewels! Land! Anything you could want!”

Merlin shook his head. “You disgust me. You’re a spineless pig who wouldn’t know loyalty if it were standing right in front of you.”

Harvey whimpered. “What are you going to do?”

The servant shrugged. “Dunno. I haven’t decided yet. Perhaps I’ll banish you from Camelot, as I did with your accomplice.”

Harvey stilled for a moment, then nodded calmly. 

“I’ll be back, don’t leave this room and don’t try anything. I need to go get Arthur.”

Merlin turned his back, already planning out how he would ensure Arthur was alright, when something felt amiss.

He spun back around just in time to grab a knife hurtling through the air before it hit his face. The lord’s look of shock and terror was worth the small bit of fear Merlin felt at how close he had been to severe injury.

“And here I thought you would be worth a second chance,” He said.

Needless to say, a certain dragon’s stomach was very full that night.

----

Arthur’s blurred gaze drifted distractedly from the hazy candle lights to the fuzzy faces of dancers waltzing past him. He’d finished his cup what felt like hours ago now, but the handsome man from before had not refilled it yet. In fact, when he looked around, Adriel was nowhere to be found.

“Your majesty?” A voice said, distorted, as if Arthur was hearing it from underwater. “Your majesty?”

Someone was gently shaking his shoulder, and he slowly turned his head to see a young girl in her early teens.

“Drink this,” She said. Arthur looked at the cup in her hands and frowned. He didn’t recognize it as the wonderful wine Harvey had been supplying all evening, and the dark brown liquid looked far from appetizing.

Arthur shook his head. “No, thank you.”

“Please!” She insisted. “You need to drink this quickly!”

He frowned. “Why?”

She hesitated, looking away from Arthur and back at the door for a moment. She cocked her head, as if she was listening to something. She sighed.

“You’ve been poisoned by the wine. You need to drink the antidote.”

That, at least, pulled Arthur from his stupor. “Poison?”

“Yes! Now drink!”

He groaned, pushing himself out of his slouch and more of an upright position. “My father has been drinking the same wine as I have. He needs it first.”

“What?” She was confused. “No-I-I was told to just give it to you!”

Arthur shook his head. “I won’t take any until my father has had his.”

“I-fine,” She muttered, and as she walked over to where Uther sat.

He watched as his father accepted the drink with no hesitation, stopping only halfway through at the bitter taste. The young girl caught the mug before it could fall from the table, and the king seemed none the wiser as he continued in his rowdy discussion. 

“Here,” She said, no longer as timid. “ Now will you drink it?”

Arthur nodded. He accepted the drink and chugged it, almost gagging at the taste of sewage. When he gave the mug back, she had a sad smile on her face.

“You should be alright now,” She promised. “I hope he’s right about you, you know. You need to treat him better.”

He blinked. The drink had already started to make his head feel a bit more clear, and as he gained consciousness he realized just how out of it he had been all night. Despite that fact, he still was unsure who she was referring to.

Just as he opened his mouth to ask, however, Merlin had arrived. It was too loud in the hall for Arthur to make out what he said to her, but her expression changed to one of relief as she rushed from the room. Merlin came over to the prince’s chair and helped him up by the arm.

“It’s been a strange night, hasn’t it?” He said casually, as if the prince and king hadn’t almost just been poisoned. “I’m sure they’ll find the prat responsible soon enough, though.”

Arthur nodded. “Of course.” His tipsy brain made his eyes wander to Merlin’s face as they walked to his rooms, the candlelight flickering beautifully against the servant’s pale skin. He hadn’t taken his hand off Arthur's arm since he got up, and Arthur was grateful for it. “Who was that girl?”

Merlin shrugged. “Just another one of the laundry maids, I think. I heard that she and her brother have to leave soon, though. It’s too bad, they seemed rather nice.”

The prince nodded again, and if he leaned a little bit closer to Merlin for the rest of the way, well, neither of them said anything about it.

Arthur woke with a splitting headache and the worst hangover of his life. The events of last night seemed hazy at best, and he was positive he had dreamt up the ‘memories’ of poison and a strange girl with terrible mead. The one thing he did remember, though, was Merlin walking all the way to his chambers with him, gently helping him into bed, and wishing him a goodnight as he blew out the candles. It startled Arthur how clearly he could picture those things.

As usual, Merlin got him ready for the day. All the regular quips about his grumpy mood and unappealing appearance were made, and Arthur found himself forgetting about his strange drunken dreams as he teased Merlin right back.

Merlin left to do his other chores while Arthur went to the regular council meeting. He was met by Leon who looked almost as bad as Arthur felt.

“Good morning,” Leon greeted politely, despite looking like he was as hungover as Gwaine. 

“Morning,” Arthur grumbled back, taking his seat.

“Arthur!” His father called loudly, and he winced at the noise. “Have you seen Lord Harvey?”

The prince shook his head. “No, Father. I have not.”

The king humphed and went back to the matter at hand. As the day went on, no one seemed to be able to find Lord Harvey anywhere. The news spread like wildfire, but as soon as panic began to creep in, a messenger arrived in the throne room with a letter.

Uther read the letter once, then twice, the displeased furrow in his brow growing deeper and deeper.

“Arthur,” He said slowly. “Send a small contingent of knights to find Lord Harvey.”

“Pardon?”

“Lord Harvey has not only committed high treason, but admitted to practicing sorcery and attempting to assassinate the royal family word for word in this letter. It is signed with his seal, and the details he gives assure me that it was written by his hand. I doubt you will find him, as he has much of a lead, but we must do our best to bring him to justice.”

----

Merlin had not thought much of Lord Harvey once the indigestion had passed. There was a reason that all the older dragons taught their young it was best to eat their food without dressing (no pun intended). In fact, if anything, he was glad the whole incident had happened.

For one, Morgana often invited him to assist her and Gwen with various tasks. Ever since Merlin had stood up to the lordling, Morgana had taken a liking to him and utilized his skills as an educated servant to help Gwen. Merlin was more than happy to spend hours up with the pair writing down various letters and lists that Morgana needed.

It didn’t take long for him to notice that she had magic. Her dreams (or nightmares, rather), foretold the future, and Merlin was sure she was a seer of some kind. Any research he had been able to do was limited, but from what he found there wasn’t much that he could do for her except comfort her from nightmares.

What made Morgana most fond of Merlin was probably something he did by accident.

He had been in the courtyard with Arthur and the knights. Morgana herself had not been present, but Gwen had been carrying laundry nearby when she stopped to watch the commotion.

“Stop talking,” Merlin had growled as he stood next to a group of Uther’s knights holding training gear.
“What are you going to do about it? I’m not wrong. The bitch needs to get married already, someone needs to get her to shut up.”

“Why should she?” Merlin had argued. “She makes good points, and she’s definitely smarter than you lot.”

“You talk a lot for a manservant,” The knight snapped back, face tinged pink. “Know your place, I could have you beaten for talking like that.”

“I’m not a spineless coward like the rest of your pals, and I’m not afraid to tell you when you’re wrong. And not only are you wrong, you’re stupid. She tells the truth and actually cares about fixing things. The Lady Morgana is better than any of you idiots will ever be, you’re just too enamored with sucking the king’s-”

It was at that point Merlin had been knocked to the ground with a solid punch. Training gear clatter to the ground and Gwen watched as the knight Merlin had been taunting had tackled him.

It took less than a minute for Arthur to come over and force them to separate. Even though he had reprimanded his manservant for fighting, no one could mistake the protective way he stood in front of Merlin as he punished the knight for disorderly conduct and attacking his servant. Gwen smiled to herself, and hurried to tell her mistress.

Merlin didn’t understand why Morgana had summoned him, just that it was probably important.  He sat easily into one of the plush chairs in her chambers as she sipped her tea.

“I wanted to thank you,” She said, “As well as ask you some questions.”
He blinked. “What for?”

She raised an eyebrow. “For yesterday. I think that’s the first time anyone besides Arthur told one of Uther’s knights that they were an idiot. I heard his ego is still bruised.”

Merlin chuckled, unable to hide his grin. “Good. That was my intention.”

Morgana’s face turned serious as she placed her tea back on the table and leaned forward. “I need to ask you if you meant it, when you said that you thought I had good ideas.”

He cocked his head. “Of course? I don’t lie about things like that.”

“Okay,” She said slowly. Her expression changed to one similar to relief. “You really think I can fix things?”

“Of course I do,” He repeated. Merlin picked up a biscuit from the table and began to nibble on it. “You may not be present at the big meetings, but from what I’ve seen you genuinely care about the problems and come up with plausible solutions. It’s infuriating that no one seems to ever listen to you, because I think you could do some real good.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Merlin. You have no idea how much what you are saying means to me.”

“No problem,” He beamed. “I say it because it's true.”

“There’s one more thing,” Morgana continued. “If things...if things were to change, drastically I mean, I would like to have you by my side. I think that together we could help a lot of people in Camelot.”

“What do you mean?” He asked warily. Merlin began to fidget, and he placed the biscuit back on the tray.

Morgana waved her hand at his suspicion. “I’m not talking about too drastic of a change, but perhaps someday I’ll have a seat on Arthur’s council. If that happens, I would like to hire you. Would you be interested in something like that?”

Merlin had...not been expecting that. He looked down to examine his hands, the ones that turned to scales and claws half the time and could never truly be human. Once again he was reminded that he was not truly human, no matter how much a part of him wished to be.

“I’m honored, my Lady,” He said quietly. “I would be honored to accept such a position, of course, but I’m not sure if I...Whether I’ll be…” Merlin trailed off, unsure of what to say. 

Morgana patted his hands comfortingly. “It’s perfectly alright, I understand. Besides, this is all hypothetical and is nothing we need to worry about right now. I’m happy as things are.”

Merlin smiled sadly back, because they both knew that that wasn’t true for either of them.

Chapter Text

No one else, Arthur reflected, was unlucky enough to be kidnapped by a dragon twice. And it wasn’t even by the same one.

He’d already tried squirming out of the creature’s grip and shouting various insults and demands. From experience he knew it wasn’t likely to get him anywhere, and just as he suspected, he remained in the sharp talons of the beast.

This time, however, the dragon didn’t speak. In response to Arthur’s complaints it only bared its teeth and growled or shot a puff of flames and smoke from their mouth. It was effective enough to get him to shut up.

The flight to the dragon caves seemed to go by faster, although Arthur suspected it had something to do with the fact that he was in a hunting party in one of the northern kingdoms, as much of a leisure activity as a political opportunity. After the fiasco with Lord Harvey, he had been eager to take a break from the frustrations of life in court. His father agreed it was a good idea for him to cool down outside of Camelot as the negotiations with Cenred continued on.

The other princes of this kingdom, three brothers who were all a few years from Arthur, had been polite enough and were both skilled hunters. Along with the Northern Kingdom’s guards, Arthur brought an array of knights. Not that they’d have much defense against a dragon, but still. He’d thought he was secure enough.

Evidently not. 

He also realized that he had left Merlin behind.

Over the months since Merlin had come to Camelot, he and his manservant had fallen into a routine. Merlin would show up late to everything, they’d trade insults, Arthur would give him a long list of chores, and then with a large amount of complaining Merlin usually did most of them. Maybe. At least a few of the tasks he assigned were partially done by the end of the day. Sometimes.

Either way, they’d come to some sort of an agreement. Arthur no longer glared daggers at Merlin (unless he deserved it), and Merlin stopped purposely embarrassing Arthur in public (most of the time, anyway). And occasionally (though Arthur would loathe to admit it), they began to enjoy each other’s company. Sometimes .

Regardless, Merlin had not been put out when he hadn’t been asked to join the hunting party. 

“I can’t believe you need those flimsy swords just to go hunting,” Merlin had said teasingly as he scratched at a new stain in Arthur’s tunic.

“Why?” Arthur responded, now thoroughly used to the strange things his manservant said on a regular basis. “Would you rather I use my hands instead?”

“That would definitely be more amusing,” he thought he heard his manservant say, but his father had arrived and Arthur didn’t have time to properly reprimand him.

Eventually, they arrived once again at the dragon caves and the prince found himself tossed unceremoniously into a colder and damper cave than before. Evening had passed and it was pitch black.

Arthur sat huddled and shivering on the floor, knowing once again from experience that escape from the cave was impossible. He found a large rock and clutched it tightly in his hands, wishing now more than ever for his sword. In order to have any chance of survival he’d have to wait until another dragon came. Perhaps, by some miracle, he’d be able to threaten the dragon into taking him to safety. He refused to acknowledge how unlikely that was, and instead continued to glare at a rocky wall he could not see.

“Hello? Arthur, are you there?” A rumbling voice called into the cave. It sounded vaguely familiar. Arthur stood, pressing his back against the wall and willing himself to be as small as possible.

“It’s me, Mer-er, Emrys. Remember?”

“Get away!” Arthur called out, staring blindly into the darkness, unable to see a thing.

A snort. “Relax, you can stop waving that rock around. Your clothes are a mess and you already look like a caveman to begin with.”

Arthur stayed silent for a moment. “How can you see me?”

“How can I-Oh for the gods’ sake, I’m a dragon . I’m literally built to live in caves and to see in the dark .”

Arthur felt a little stupid at that, but remained quiet, still a miffed he’d been kidnapped again.

“Why can’t you see me ?” Arthur retorted. 

“Oh, wait,” Emrys said, sounding sheepish.

Arthur jumped back from the burst of flame that came out of the dragon’s mouth, only a few feet away from him and a lot closer than he originally thought. The flames caught on the moss and burned down to low embers, providing enough light for Arthur to see the dragon’s hulking form in the darkness of the cave.

“Hmmm,” the dragon mused, looking at the slowly dwindling embers of the moss. “That won’t last very long.” He raised one sharp claw while mumbling a few words in a strange language causing Arthur to stumble back in fear, only for a large glowing orb to form on the tip of the nail. It floated up near the top of the cave, and the cavern was bathed in a soft warm light.  He stared at the very obvious display of magic in a mix of caution and curiosity.

“Much better,” Emrys said, looking rather pleased with himself. “Can you see better now?”

Arthur glared at him. Of course he could see better, but he refused to give the overgrown lizard that sense of satisfaction. But in spite of his silence, the dragon seemed quite pleased with itself as it turned in a circle and laid down.

“If I take a quick nap do you promise not to try and run away?”

Arthur eyed him warily. “What?”

“I mean, I doubt you’d even get very far. We’re very high up and it’s practically impossible for any human to scale these mountains.” He yawned. “Just don’t get into too much trouble, alright? I would be incredibly annoyed if you went off and got yourself killed.”

“You-you’re just going to sleep right now?”

Arthur imagined that the dragon was raising an eyebrow at him right now.

“Yes? I’ve had a long day and I’m tired. I want to take a nap.”

The prince opened his mouth to argue but soon enough loud snores reverberated around the cave. And he thought that the knights snored loudly. He began to pace around, trying to figure out how he would escape. The dragon wasn’t wrong, the mountain was too high for Arthur alone to escape from. That meant he had to find a way to signal someone else for help.

Creeping up to the mouth of the cave, Arthur immediately leaned back away from the edge. He knew they were high up, but this was much higher than he expected. They were above the damn clouds . Nothing had any business being this far up into the sky.

Once again discouraged, Arthur walked back down the cave, sitting across from the strange dragon called Emrys. As the dragon snored, little tendrils of smoke rose from his nostrils, creating a layer of smoke in the cave.

----

Merlin was getting sick of chasing after Arthur like some worried mother hen. It was completely fine when he was worried about the whole of Camelot (after all, there was no sense in taking over something that had already been destroyed by the baddie of the week), but it was getting ridiculous. Arthur had somehow managed to get himself kidnapped despite being surrounded by the best knights in the kingdom.

He had his work cut out for him, it seemed.

For starters, the trail had gone cold. Merlin only found out when the rest of Camelot's party found out, which happened to be a few days after he was taken (according to the messenger the hunting party had sent back). Apparently, the knights and other princes of the party had decided to stay and search for Arthur, lest he had merely wandered off drunk, but Merlin didn't have much hope for that theory.

After hastily making up an excuse, one which ended up being rather flimsy without Gaius there to assist him, he made his way to the heart of the forest where he suspected the prince was taken. Once he had decided that the knights were looking in the complete opposite direction, he took on his dragon form.

It was incredibly freeing to be able to stretch his wings after months of inactivity. The stretch of unused muscles and the cracks of his joints were incredibly satisfying, like an itch finally being scratched. 

The only thing that could possibly have felt better was taking to the skies again.

From there it was fairly easy for him to catch the scent of the dragon who'd taken Arthur. It was vaguely familiar, but with being gone for so long Merlin couldn't recognize it. What Merlin did recognize was that this had been intentional. The dragon meant to take Arthur specifically for some reason, not just as a snack. If a starving dragon truly had been desperate for something to eat, they would have gone to the local pastures and fields instead of a troop of heavily armed human knights. Something wasn't right, but Merlin couldn't figure it out.

"Hullo!" Merlin called, swooping into upper cave systems. The grand hall had various dragons standing about, some talking with each other in hushed, guttural sounds while others simply practiced magic silently. The hall was just outside the grand council chambers where presumably his father would be.

"Emrys?" A voice asked, and he turned to see Cadmus, one of his old tutors, carrying a large compendium in his jaws. "What are you doing here so soon?" The old dragon seemed surprised, Merlin realized.

 He cocked his head. "I'm here to see my father. Is he in the council meeting right now?"

Cadmus nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid so. Before you go in, I should warn you," He said softly. "Things have not been so...peaceful as they were when you left."

If Merlin had been in his human form he would be frowning, he realized. Things had never truly been peaceful in his home for as long as he could remember, but for a creature as old and wizened as Cadmus to admit things were getting bad, well, it wasn't a good sign.

"What do you mean?"

"It's complicated," Cadmus murmured, before looking up quickly. Merlin saw a large red dragon approaching and immediately recognized them as Apopha, another dragon who was only a few decades older than him. "I should go. Good luck."

"Wait-" Merlin started, but the old dragon had already taken off for the mouth of the cave. He sighed and looked up when Apopha finally reached him.

"Emrys," She said crisply. "You seem to have come home early."

Merlin nodded. "I need to speak with my father."

"He's busy right now," She replied. "But I'm sure a scribe can take a message for you so you can get back to your post." He shook his head.

"No, I need to speak with him now. It's urgent."

"What's it about?"

Merlin glared at her. "Sensitive information."

"I'm a general now, Emrys. I assure you I'm privy to whatever you have to say to your father.

A general? Merlin thought. Apopha was still young, how desperate was his father? Merlin couldn't remember much about her,  except for the fact that she had always been determined and willing to do anything to get ahead. Watching her fight, even in practice, had been terrifying.

The council doors opened and various members filed out, grumbling in irritation. A few humanoid shapes hurried away as well, and Merlin recognized more than a few powerful druids and sorcerers among them.

It seemed his father was working hard at his mission to unite the various magical peoples across the lands.

Last but not least, Balinor, the last dragonlord, strode from the chambers in his human form. Merlin could recognize irritation and exhaustion on his father's face. As soon as he met his son's eyes, Balinor transformed effortlessly into his dragon shape.

"Emrys!" He called, weary voice lighting up in excitement. "I'm so glad you're here!"

That was strange, Merlin thought to himself. His father had never said something like that.

"You...are?"

"There is much to discuss," He continued, and he gestured for them to go farther into the cave systems, presumably to his own personal chambers. "Come, away from listening ears."

"Father," Merlin began. "I'm here to ask about Arthur, I mean the prince-"

"Arthur?" Apopha snorted. "Perhaps you've spent too long with the humans, Emrys. You've gotten rather comfortable with the Pendragons, have you?" Merlin scowled at her.

Balinor shook his head. "Not now, in private. There are some changes that have been made since we last saw each other."

The further they walked the more uncomfortable he got. There was something his father wasn't telling him, and it only made him want to know more. 

"Things are soon going to change," Balinor said as they finally reached his chambers. "It's imperative that you continue to send us messages about what's happening, but most of all, you must remain in Camelot."

"Then why did you take Arthur?"

"Come on," Apopha interjected haughtily. "A large group of heavily armed knights getting closer to our territories? Of course we would take their leader."

Merlin frowned. "But Arthur isn't their leader, and it was just a hunting party with some other local princes."

"There was also the lack of communication from you," Balinor continued as if neither had spoken. "I haven't heard anything from you, Emrys, or any of the messengers I've sent to you. Your lack of presence among the humans was concerning. I was going to...question...the prince." Merlin didn't like the tone of his voice.

"I haven't even seen any messengers that you've sent, and certainly none of them have approached me."

Balinor swore. "Uther must have caught him. I'm sure there have been plenty of executions while you've been in Camelot, yes?"

He nodded. "Then-"

Apopha interrupted him. "It doesn't matter why we took the prince." She looked back at Balinor. "See? I told you it would be useless. Nothing has changed in Camelot, and those with magic continue to be slaughtered without any mercy from that bastard Uther. We have to continue with the plan we discussed earlier."

“What’s going on?” Merlin snapped, glaring at his father and the dragon sitting by his side. He was getting sick of being interrupted. “What were you planning?”

“Emrys,” Balinor sighed, rubbing a weary claw on his snout. “Calm down, please.”

Merlin ignored his father, as well as the smoke that he was now aware was coming from his own mouth. “No, I will not calm down! I was handling things! And then you just had to swoop in and kidnap him again! And don’t even get me started on the mess with that idiotic human lord you tried to send to Camelot! You dragged the druids into it and it only made things worse-”

“Druids? What druids?”

"The-the druids!" Merlin insisted. "They drugged the royal family and the rest of the court, and they were planning to dispose of the king and prince to place some lord they found on the throne instead. It was a terrible idea and would have never worked!"

Apopha leaned in, intrigued. "I would've liked to see that, even if it didn't work. What stopped them?"

"I did!" Merlin hissed.

"What?"

Both dragons seemed surprised at this, and Merlin could feel a self-conscious feeling creeping over himself.

"It-It wouldn't have worked!" He insisted, trying to defend himself. "I didn't want them to affect the court dynamics and I wasn't sure what you wanted or why you sent me to Camelot-"

“It’s all a part of the plan-”

“Right,” Merlin laughed sarcastically. “The plan, the plan that no one will tell me anything about!”

“You’re overreacting, my son. I will admit, that was not a part of my plans,” At this he cast an irritated look to the dragon next to him, “-but it was an opportunity we didn’t want to give up.”

“What opportunity are you talking about? I’ve been with him in Camelot for months with no new orders and I still don’t know what we need him for.”

The red dragon sitting next to Balinor rolled his eyes. “We need you to gain his trust in human form. Like his majesty has been saying, it’s a part of his plan.”

Merlin glared at her. “I’m sorry, but remind me again why you get to be here right now?”

“I'm the new head general.”

He thrashed his tail in annoyance. Once again he was reduced to feeling like a small pup having another tantrum. “I just want to know what the hell I’m supposed to be doing!”

Balinor stood and began to slowly pace around the room. “In order for our plans to work, we need the prince to be a willing participant of his own demise, at least for a short while. That’s why I sent you to Camelot.”

“What could you possibly be planning that would need him to be a part of it?”

“You will find out soon, I promise.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “That’s what you keep saying,” he snapped. "I'm beginning to wonder if you aren't sure what to do with Camelot and the Pendragons."

His father's stare hardened. “You should go. We’ll discuss this later.”

Merlin's ego stung from the blatant dismissal, but he couldn't disagree either. He wanted to leave.

Turning around, he stormed from the cave making sure to stomp hard enough that small crystals fell from the cave ceilings.

----

It had started to rain, Arthur realized a short while later. The sound of water droplets pattering against the mountain and a steady soothing rhythm that was calming despite the setting. The temperature had dropped too, and despite the hunting clothes he wore Arthur began to shiver. Arthur sneezed, and the noise woke the green dragon. Large wings shifted and unfurled as Emrys stretched, his snout reached forward as he twisted his neck about. After giving himself a good shake, he turned to focus on Arthur.

“You must be cold,” he said, crossing his ginormous feet over each other. “And tired. You can use me as a pillow. My scales should be nice and warm.”

Arthur frowned. “The idea of sleeping next to a giant bloodthirsty beast doesn’t exactly sound appealing.”

Emrys snorted, a small flame shooting out from his nostril. “Relax, you’re safe with me. I promised you a while ago that no harm will come to you while you stay with me.”

“And why would you promise something like that?”
“Because I’m better than you.”

Heat flared up Arthur’s neck to his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The dragon snorted but offered no other answer. “I’m still not convinced,” He declared. “You’re a dragon, after all.”

Emrys flashed his pearly white fangs. “When I said that you would not be harmed, I meant that you would not be harmed. That includes getting sick from the cold. You humans are ridiculously weak and fragile, you know. Put your silly pride away and just lay down next to me.” 

Arthur took a few hesitant steps toward him, still not completely reconciled with sleeping near a dragon.

“Don’t be a prat,” Emrys said, annoyed once he noticed Arthur’s hesitance. “Just because I’m a dragon doesn’t mean I want to eat you. You probably wouldn’t even taste very good.” 

Arthur glared back at him, trying very hard not to feel insulted. “I’m sure that I would taste delicious.” He took the last couple steps over to Emrys and gingerly sat down next to his warm flank. He finally rested his head against the scales that he realized were much warmer than he suspected.

“Better now?” Emrys asked smugly. He’d noticed how Arthur had stopped shivering almost the moment he sat down.

“You’re a lot warmer than I thought you’d be,” he admitted. “Like...like some weird, giant firestone.” Arthur stared up at the ceiling. Silence filled the cave and he couldn’t tell if it was more comfortable or awkward.

“I’m sorry you got taken again,” Emrys finally said, his voice soft. “I know it’s not pleasant being taken away from family and friends. I don’t like you, but I don’t like crossing certain...lines.”

Arthur frowned. This was probably the strangest creature he’d ever met. What kind of a kidnapper apologizes for kidnapping someone?

He sighed. “You’re not very good at this. When you kidnap someone you’re not supposed to be nice and apologize. You could at least try to be a bit more intimidating,” Arthur said, deciding that at best he was an idiot, and at worst he was suicidal because provoking his dragon captor could not be a good idea . He just couldn’t help himself, it just seemed all too natural to take some jabs at him.

Something that sounded like laughter came rumbling out of the dragon’s belly. “Unfortunately I’ve been told that I’m not very good at it. Being intimidating, that is. It doesn’t matter if I’m in my human or dragon form, I’m not scary.”

“You have a human form?” Arthur was looking at the dragon differently now. It wasn’t so big and scary when he knew

Emrys glared at him. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m not showing it to you.”

Arthur scoffed, standing up. “Come on, I’m sure you could be if you tried.”

“Be what?”

“Intimidating. Now come on, give me your best ferocious look.”

That’s right, Arthur thought, I’m gonna lull you into a false sense of security and then I’m going to get you to take me back home. In all the stories when the hero helped someone something good came of it, and if his manservant were here he was sure he’d try to employ such childish attempts to get out of the situation. With nothing else to try, it was worth a shot.

Emrys growled at Arthur from the floor. He bared his teeth again, and Arthur was reminded of how similar his gleaming white teeth were to steak knives.

“Come on, put your back into it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Stand up, growl at me. Try and scare me.” Merlin was an expert at poking and prodding someone, and i

He huffed at Arthur but stood up nonetheless.

"Now what?” He asked. If Arthur didn't know any better he might say that the dragon sounded unsure of himself, which was impossible because this was a bloody dragon who was the most terrifying creature to ever live on the planet.

In Arthur's humble opinion, at least.

"Roar at me," Arthur demanded, planting his feet. "I want to see if you're actually as scary as everyone says you are.”

If Arthur didn't know any better, he'd say that the dragon was fighting a smile right now.

Grumbling, Emrys opened his giant mouth and let out an ear-shattering roar. Arthur stepped back in shock, bringing his hand up to his head to check if his ringing ears were still attached to his head.

"Wow," he said when he could finally hear himself again. The dragon was looking at him with a too-smug expression on his giant snout. "That was...adequate."

Emrys sighed and laid back down. Whatever sense of humor the dragon had regained in the few minutes with Arthur seemed to leave him almost immediately.

"Tell that to my father," Emrys grumbled, placing his head on his feet. "At some point he'll realize that this is going to come around and bite him in the tail."

Arthur frowned. This could be something he could exploit to his advantage.

"What do you mean?" He asked, trying to sound as concerned and aloof as the situation called for, instead of broadcasting his desperation to have something against the dragon.

He sighed again. "I let my temper get the best of me today, I know can be too impulsive for my own good, I do. It's just...well, he's not telling me something, and I know it's important. In fact, I'm positive it has something to do with me and that's why he won't tell me. It's probably some dumb prophecy or other."

A prophecy? That sounded important, thought Arthur. If only the author knew where she was going with this story, then he might be able to figure this out.

"What sort of prophecy?" Arthur asked, laying back down next to the dragon. He did his best to ignore the fact that he felt safe enough lying down next to a giant, bloodthirsty, magical monster. His father would die on the spot if he knew. Arthur resolved in that moment to make sure that Uther never found out how friendly he had gotten with this strange creature.

"The kind that makes no sense but definitely ensures that I suffer." Emrys' tail twitched back and forth. "Which is every sort, I’m afraid. I’ve gotten used to that sort of thing now. But I still can’t believe that he doesn't trust me enough to tell me these things, y'know?"

Arthur stared thoughtfully down at his hands as they fiddled with his mother's ring. Yes, he thought, I do know. Uther had made his opinions on Arthur's shortcomings quite clear.

"I have a good idea," Arthur said quietly. "I mean, it's like they put the weight of the world on your shoulders and then tell you it's not good enough? That you’re not good enough? And then-and then they can't even understand why you're frustrated because they won't listen to a word you say?"

Emrys nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly!" He crowed. "He can't expect me to be perfect all the time, right? And yet he completely overreacts whenever I mess up and he refuses to give me second chances and I just-" He got quiet, suddenly interested in the moss growing on the cave ceiling. "I just wish he treated me more like his son and not a soldier or the next ruler."

"I think," Arthur said slowly, "That we have more in common than you think."

Chapter Text

“Mer-lin,” Arthur snapped. “Have you mended those shirts yet that I asked you to do ages ago?”

Merlin sighed. He’d only been back for a week and he already wished he’d stayed home in his quiet, dark cave, at least for a little bit longer. The flight back had been quiet, the two of them seeming to reach a truce after bonding over similar fathers. He’d explained as Emrys to the prince that it had been a bit of a slip up-whoops! They grabbed the wrong prince! It happened all the time, just a little mix up.

Then he’d deposited Arthur in a clearing close to the knights before fleeing in the opposite direction. He’d arrived back at the castle, panting and out of breath, claiming that his trip had been successful (in all honesty he had forgotten the original excuse he had used). Everyone was too excited to receive the news that the prince was found unharmed to spare him much attention.

Arthur, despite being kidnapped once again, was happy to finally be home. Merlin had been finding the lack of change in the prince’s demeanor...intriguing, to say the least.

It’d been all too easy for him to forget that as soon as he slipped skins he was no longer Emrys the terrifying dragon in Arthur’s eyes, but Merlin, the less-than-competent manservant. 

Which Merlin was fine with, really. It wasn’t like he’d felt a strange sense of comradery talking with the human prince, or like he’d finally found someone who understood him. It wasn’t like he’d finally found someone he could whine to about his father without them cowering in fear of the almighty dragonlord and his son.

He was fine with it. Really.

“Merlin!” Arthur repeated, snapping his fingers in Merlin’s face and yanking him out of his self reflection. “Are you deaf and stupid?”
    “Your face is stupid,” Merlin mumbled as he turned away, too distracted to come up with a better retort.

Arthur gave him a funny look. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been moping all around the place for the past week. I would’ve thought you might have missed me.”

He shook his head. “Of course, sire. I missed you during my entire vacation where I was paid full wages, it was absolutely dreadful.”

The prince raised an eyebrow.

“There was no one to boss me around or tell me what I was doing wrong. It was so boring I almost enjoyed himself.” Merlin was mocking him, a fake pout drooping on his features. It took a special talent that only Merlin seemed to possess that made “sire” sound like an insult.

Arthur was frowning at him now. “I suppose we’ll have to fix that with some extra chores then, shall we?”

Merlin smiled sweetly as he leaned in so that their noses were inches from touching. “No need, sire. Just being within your presence is reward enough.”

If Arthur found himself beginning to blush slightly, well, that was nobody’s business. Surely it was just out of frustration with his impertinent manservant who had absolutely no respect for authority.

He huffed and turned away. “You’re not getting out of cleaning the stables again, Merlin. And I need you to clean and oil my armor. I saw some mud on it at drills earlier.”

“I swear I did it yesterday. It’s not my fault you can’t take care of your own things,” Merlin whined. In truth it wouldn’t take him too long as he’d found a spell to do it for him, but it was the principle of the thing. “And besides, don’t we have other people to take care of the stables? We have actual stablehands whose sole job is to clean out the horse stalls.”
    Arthur smirked. “I know, but sometimes I think it does you well to do some extra chores. It builds character.”

“One of these days I’m going to make you regret being so mean to me,” Merlin pouted, tossing some of Arthur’s nicest garments quite roughly into his wardrobe. He watched as the expensive fabrics were rumpled into a ball on the shelves, having given up long ago trying to impress the importance of neatness onto his manservant. “I’ll show you what all of this “character building” of yours does to a person.”

The prince rolled his eyes and offered no response.

“In the meantime, however, I will be unable to attend to your royal arse for the rest of the day. Gaius asked me to gather herbs for him,” He continued. “Don’t miss me too much.”
    With that he turned on his heel and strode out of Arthur’s chambers, ignoring his outrage and sputtered demands. 

“Should we go after him, sire?” One of his guards asked, warily looking back and forth between Arthur’s bright red face as he clutched onto the doorframe and the retreating back of his manservant. It had been months and they were still shocked with the attitude that Merlin was allowed to get away with.

Arthur waved his hand, forcing his hand to unclench from the wood. “No, it’s fine. I’ll deal with him later. One of you just send for George to come clean up this mess.”
    The other guard made a pained face but nodded anyway and walked off to find the replacement.

----

    “Merlin!” A happy voice cried. Merlin spun to find Gwen waving him over from a farmer’s stall. He walked over, a bounce in his step.

    “Aren’t you supposed to be with Arthur right now?” She asked with a smile, looking him up and down. “I wouldn’t trust him out of my sight with everything going on these days.”

    Merlin adopted his signature grin, the one that showed off his dimples and got him whatever he wanted. As it turned out, his human body had some perks. Grinning when you were a dragon tended to be taken as a threat. “He’ll be fine, it’s only for a few hours. I convinced him that Gaius needed me to go pick some herbs. I’ve used that excuse so many times and he still believes it. Surely another dragon wouldn’t be so stupid as to come into Camelot.” 

The irony of the statement was not lost on Merlin, even as Gwen laughed. Merlin was positive that the only thing keeping the people of Camelot safe was their overconfidence in Uther’s ability to attack anything remotely magical. If a dragon really wanted an in to Camelot, all they had to do was muscle their way in. But the people had faith in their king, however misguided, that he could protect them from inhuman threats.

 “It’s not just that,” Gwen continued, and she lowered her voice. “While the prince was away, there were three assassination attempts on the king. I have no particular love for Uther, but it's the ones that are close to him, like Morgana and Arthur, that I’m worried about.”

    Merlin took in the new information stoically, nodding his head. “I know what you mean. But I’m sure things will be fine.”

    She nodded. “I hope so.” The smile quickly appeared back on her face as she handed Merlin a pastry. “Want to have lunch together later?” She asked. “I know a good spot where we can watch the knights practice without being seen.”

    He grinned as he plucked the pastry from her fingers. “Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

    Gwen headed off with a smile, leaving Merlin to ponder the events of the past two weeks. Three assassination attempts on Uther in one week was more than normal. Usually they just went after Arthur, and Merlin being the ever-suffering friend (since when did he consider himself Arthur’s friend?)  made sure the useless clotpole didn’t die. The human princeling had absolutely no sense of self preservation.

 It wasn’t like he was growing soft for the silly human, Merlin reasoned, but his job was to gain Arthur’s trust, and what better way to do that than from saving his idiotic arse a few times a week?

    Idly he wondered if maybe his father and his advisor, Kilgharrah, had something to do with the attacks on Uther. It would make sense, of course. But it would’ve been nice to at least know beforehand so he could keep Arthur’s sorry arse from dying.

    The afternoon passed idly. Merlin got the few herbs Gaius actually needed and then proceeded to meander around town. He helped people with various odds and ends, trying to keep his mind off of Arthur and his father and everything that could possibly happen. 

    Everything was going great until he heard a familiar voice.

    “Guinevere!” Arthur called. Merlin caught sight of him waving down Gwen as he ducked behind a vendor in an attempt to stay out of sight. “Have you seen my useless manservant? He should be done with his chores by now.”

    Gwen smiled innocently. “He might have had to travel quite far to get some of the things Gaius asked for, your highness. The surrounding areas have been plucked dry of a lot of things.”

    Arthur huffed and Merlin couldn’t resist a small chuckle. Gwen really was a good friend. Honestly, if your friends weren’t willing to lie to the government for you, were you really friends at all?

    Merlin drifted off down the street, in the opposite direction of the pair. He was deep in thought, coming to the worrying conclusion that he may in fact have started to care about these people, and worse, even consider them his friends.

----

    Contrary to popular belief, Arthur was not as oblivious as most made him out to be. For one, he knew that Merlin most definitely was not picking herbs. He used that excuse all the time, and once or twice he’d even gone down to check in with Gaius and ask if he was short on anything (which he wasn’t, so ergo, Merlin was really bad at coming up with decent excuses to get out of work).

    Which was why Arthur was attempting to track down Gwen. They were good friends, Arthur reasoned. Surely she’d know where the idiot went.

    Unfortunately he was right about them being good friends, good enough friends that Guinevere would lie to him about where Merlin had gone.

    “Are you sure?” Arthur prodded, peering around the woman as if expecting to see the idiot hiding somewhere behind her. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d caught Merlin like that. “You don’t know where he is?”

    She shook her head. She was trying hard not to, but Arthur could see her smiling. This was ridiculous, he thought. He was the crown prince, the least these people could do is be honest with him.

    “No sire,” Gwen said. “Do you need him for something?”
    He scowled. “Yes, I do need him, because he’s my manservant and he’s supposed to be doing his job.”

    “Oh. Surely someone else could fill in for him? Send someone to tell the head servant to find you a replacement for today.”

    For some reason, those words seemed to hit Arthur in the gut. Replacement? Fill in? No one could replace Merlin. It just couldn’t be done! But why did he care so much about the idiot with the too-big ears, absurd amount of kindness, the dopey smile, the pretty blue eyes, sarcastic wit, and the attractive face-

    Oh, he realized. Things were much worse than he thought.

----

Merlin made his way to the edge of the lower town, peering into the woods. He really should have gotten some sort of message from his father by now. Balinor had said he’d been sending messengers even if Merlin hadn’t come across them so he decided that perhaps he should put some more effort into finding them. Or maybe he should send his own.

Either way, it was an excuse for him to get out of Camelot for a bit and explore the woods.

"Merlin!" A voice called. He spun around to find Gwaine standing with a tankard of ale in one hand and a dubious looking sack in the other.

"Gwaine!" Merlin grinned. He'd grown fond of the knight, much to Arthur's chagrin. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

He took a swig of ale. "Could ask you the same thing." Gwaine took another sip. "The princess is looking for you."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "In that case, you didn't see me here?"

A loud laugh came from the knight. "Works for me, as long as you didn’t see me here either. I'll see you around, Merlin."

He watched as Gwaine stumbled off to the tavern, probably half drunk already. Merlin frowned as he continued to walk into the forest. He was becoming an expert on humans, he realized, and getting drunk every night was probably not a healthy habit. It certainly didn't help Gwaine's standing as a knight. He began to think of how he would bring this up to Arthur, seeing as Gwaine was directly under his jurisdiction, and despite Arthur's protests, a very good friend. Maybe it would help if he talked to the tavern keeper and convinced them to stop serving him after a certain point. 

Merlin tried his best to ignore the cold pang of worry and fear when he thought about everything bad that could happen to Gwaine. It felt like it was his duty to make sure the humans he cared about were safe. If anything happened to Gwen, Gaius, Lancelot, Gwaine, or especially Arthur, well, he'd raze anyone and anything to the ground if it meant that they stayed safe and sound-

He stumbled as realized what this meant. 

A hoard. Merlin had managed to make himself a bloody dragon hoard. 

Of course he'd been taught what this meant when he was a dragonet, still stumbling around with awkward claws and too-big wings. Somehow, in his time at Camelot, he'd formed a bond with the humans that had always seemed so silly to him. Most dragons hoarded precious objects, like gems and gold, but there were a few exceptions. Apparently Merlin couldn't even be bothered to have a normal hoard. Instead of valuable shiny things, Merlin had gone and unknowingly gotten himself a hoard of humans.

He was broken out of his reflection by a loud rustling of leaves and a sneeze. Immediately he threw his hands up and felt his magic buzz in his bones, ready to defend himself as needed. Turning around, he couldn't find what could have made such a human noise. Sniffing, he couldn't smell any human scent. He could only smell-

"Mordred?" Merlin called. His senses were still much better than the average human, but they were still much weaker compared to his dragon form. If Merlin wasn't mistaken, the young dragon was hiding up in the trees somewhere.

A young boy, who looked to be around nine or ten, fell down from the trees. His bright yellow-green eyes shone with happiness as he launched himself up from a roll to grip Merlin in a hug.

“Emrys!” He cried, clinging to him. “I missed you so much!”
    Merlin blinked, staring at the child and trying to reconcile the young boy with the young dragon he sounded and smelled like.

“Mordred?” He repeated. “Is that you?”
    Mordred stepped back, nodding with a grin. “It took me a bit, but I finally got it!” He spun around, showing Merlin his human form. “Kilgharrah said I was the youngest dragonet he’s known to get it so fast!”

He smiled, happy for the young dragon's glee. In all honesty, Mordred's human transformation wasn't quite perfect. For one thing, his eyes were a dead giveaway. Anyone with half an ounce of sense would know that his glowing eyes with black slits for pupils were far from normal, least of all human. Merlin noticed small, rough patches of skin in various spots on his arm, which were remnants from the dragon form’s scales that were always difficult to hide. And his smile. Mordred's teeth were just a little too sharp to be completely human. From afar he probably looked okay, but any close interaction would immediately give him away as magical and most definitely not human.

Kilgharrah's eyesight must be going. He was, after all, an older dragon, Merlin reasoned. He was bound to mess up at some point. Sending Mordred out like this, especially alone, was not safe. What was his father thinking?

Mordred interrupted his thoughts. “What do you think?” He asked, tugging on Merlin’s tunic. “Do I look human?”
    Merlin smirked. “It’s pretty good,” he admitted, gesturing for Mordred to turn around again. “A few more tweaks and it’ll be perfect.”
    Mordred beamed and hugged him again. “I can’t wait to see Camelot with you,” he said, already tugging Merlin by the hand back towards the town. “I want to see your human cave and I can call you your human name and try your human food and-”

“Wait,” Merlin interrupted, suddenly digging his heels into the ground to stop. “What are you talking about?”
    He pouted. “I thought you would take me to see the humans? You promised we’d get to practice my shifting and magic. Now we can test it with humans!”

Merlin blinked. He did recall promising that, but he didn’t remember mentioning the humans. He told Mordred that, and instantly felt his heart sink to his toes as Merlin began to quiver his lip and widen his eyes. Somehow that expression was even more damning as human than it was when Mordred was a dragon.

“Fine,” He ground out, taking a deep breath. “But you need to keep your hood up and make sure your head stays down. You can’t take any chances of being noticed in Camelot, understand?”
    Mordred instantly perked up again. “Hooray!” He whooped, skipping down the path not even waiting to make sure Merlin was following him.

Merlin hurried up to him and matched the younger’s pace. “So,” he started, “What’s the news my father sent?” His words made Mordred slow, and he wouldn’t meet Merlin’s eye.

Worry began to grow in him. “Mordred, did something happen?” He asked. “Is my father-is everyone alright?”
    “They’re fine, don’t worry,” Mordred rushed out, “I just sort of don’thavepermissiontobehererightnowandyourfatherdoesn’tknowI’veleftthecavesorwhereIamrightnowbecauseIdidn’ttellhimwhereIwasgoing.”

“What?”
    Mordred took a deep breath. “Kilgharrah gave me permission, but your father was just really busy and Kilgharrah told me not to worry about it and to just go see you, he said that he’d tell him where I went if he asked but said that it was really unlikely he’d ask after me and I just really missed you and was worried about you because of all the rumors about the attacks we’re planning on Camelot so I really wanted to come and check on you but I don’t have any special information and-”

“Hold on,” Merlin interrupted. Mordred rambled when he was nervous, and this wasn’t helping things. “So let me just get this right. You don’t have a message for me from my father, only Kilgharrah knows where you are, you left without permission-”

“I had permission,” he interjected haughtily. “From Kilgharrah.”

“Right, from Kilgharrah,” Merlin continued drily, “and we’re planning an attack on Camelot?”

Mordred blinked. “That’s what everyone has been saying,” He said. “I thought you knew? They’ve been training more and more to fight, Kilgharrah says we’ll have an army fit to raize Camelot and all the other neighboring kingdoms to just ashes. He says it won’t be hard because once one kingdom falls all the others will too, but we’ll have to do it quickly if we want to win. Apopha says that we’re prepared for a big fight and that the spies say we’re almost ready to strike.”

Merlin felt like he had been slapped across the face. His father had been planning an attack, no, this would be considered war, on Camelot, where he stationed his only son, and hadn’t felt the need to tell him?

“Is that all?” He asked quietly, fury and fear coating his voice. “Is that all that my father’s been doing behind my back?”
    The younger dragon at least had the decency to look worried. “I-I don’t know?”

“This is bad,” Merlin muttered, beginning to pace in the clearing. “They said they’ll ‘raize it to the ground’? Those were the exact words they used?”

He nodded.

“And have you seen these dragons being trained to fight? I assume that they’ve been taught combat and magic, maybe some shifting?”
    Mordred nodded. “Of course. I was one of them.”
    Merlin clenched his fists. Mordred was a child, but more importantly his friend. Abandoned when he had just hatched, Mordred had always felt like Merlin’s responsibility to care for and nurture. He was furious about everything else his father had been doing, but this was the last straw.

“They were going to have you fight,” He said softly, “right? They were going to use your-your gifts in their war and-”

“Yes,” Mordred said, “Of course they were going to, why wouldn’t they? It’s what our purpose is. Apopha said it’s why we have magic.”

Merlin let loose a roar, and flame burst from his mouth, singing the patch of grass in front of him. He’d never breathed fire in this form, and he realized it was because he’d never been so angry. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, he could feel the inside of his human mouth and throat blistering and trying to heal after the flames had licked through them, and he yearned to transform back into his true form. This frail human one didn’t seem like it could hold him for much longer.

“I’m going back to talk to my father,” Merlin finally said, voice hoarse, as he stretched his limbs in preparation to change. “And you’re coming with me. It’s just not safe here. You shouldn’t have left the mountains.”
    “But,” Mordred began to whine, ignoring the fiery glare sent his way. “It’s so cramped up there, and now everyone’s scared a human is going to see us flying and we can’t even fly out of the valley and-”

“But it’s safe!” He bellowed. “You haven’t seen what Camelot does to-does to people like us! The mountains are safe, and I’d never forgive myself if anything ever happened to you.”

Mordred’s lip quivered again like he was about to cry, but Merlin ignored it. He’d never, ever yelled at him before, and he felt more and more like a frustrated parent. Merlin made a mental note for himself to stop giving Gaius so much trouble.

“I don’t understand,” Mordred said quietly. “I thought you’d be happy about Camelot being destroyed. You said so yourself, they hurt people like us. Why would you be mad about getting revenge? Why?”

He froze. A few months ago the answer would have been obvious: he wouldn’t. When he was given this task he was prepared to destroy all of Camelot if it meant he could be free. But now, he could acknowledge that he cared about Camelot, or at least her people, and there was no way that he could stand to be a part of the destruction. Gwaine, Lancelot, Gwen, Genius, Arthur-

Arthur.

Once again the realization hit him like a sack of bricks, but Merlin made a mental note to unpack this particular one later on. Ideally not when all of Camelot was in imminent danger.

“Because,” He said slowly. “It wouldn’t be revenge, it would be a massacre. There are magical citizens living in fear there, terrified that they’ll be the next ones on the pyre. I’ve seen the friends and family of the unlucky ones that don’t have magic mourning their deaths. It’s terrible and it’s not fair, but destroying everyone and everything wouldn’t fix anything.”

“What about the prince?”
    He froze. “What about him?”
    “Well, your father made it sound like you were supposed to get close with the humans, so we all thought that you would topple them from the inside because if we don’t then Camelot will defeat us. He saw it in a prophecy. Does the prince trust you? He said that-”
    “No,” he said, more emphatically than he had meant to. “I-Arthur, he’s different, different from his father and what he expects him to be. I know that Arthur can fix things, he just needs a little help. And I...I want to be there for him.”

“Really? Can you trust him even after-after everything his father did? And still does?”

“Yes, I’d trust him with my life.” As he said it, Merlin realized just how true that was. It seemed impossible, but somehow he’d fallen in-

No, that would be crossing a line, Merlin thought. You didn’t lie and manipulate the people you loved. Someday he would have to tell Arthur the truth, and even if he thought that Arthur was magnitudes better than the man his father was, someday Arthur would still inevitably hate him. It was the only rational possibility.

“He needs to take the throne,” Merlin finished, trying to ignore his heart that seemed to want to beat out of his chest. “He’s far from perfect, but he will be what Camelot and her people need.”

Mordred nodded like he understood. It was always scary how perceptive he could be. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to see you again, and to see what it would be like to live in a place that wasn’t always scared of attacks and war.”

“How much has our home changed since I’ve been away?”

He hesitated. “It’s...changed a lot.”

Merlin took a deep breath. “Are you ready to go?” He asked. “I need to speak with my father.”
    “Let’s go home.”

----

    Despite his newfound revelation (or perhaps exactly because of that), Arthur was getting extremely sick of his manservant disappearing on him. He hadn’t seen him since the morning before, when Merlin had lied and said he had to pick herbs for Gaius. 

    Arthur had been woken up by George, delivered an over-the-top breakfast, and suffered through a plethora of bad brass jokes. Already in a bad mood, he’d stalked down to Gaius’ chambers and asked after his servant.

    “I thought he was with you?” Gaius said.

Arthur blinked. “You thought he was with me all night?”

He shrugged. “I assumed you went on a last minute hunt of some sort. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve stayed out together for...reasons.”

Gaius wasn’t implying anything, Arthur thought, there was absolutely no reason that anyone would think something had or could have happened if Merlin spent the night together. They were just friends and nothing more, even if Arthur really really wanted for there to be-

He interrupted his thoughts. “If he came back to his room last night he did so after I went to sleep and left before I woke, which is unheard of.” Gaius was beginning to sound concerned. “You haven’t seen him?”
    “The last time I saw him was yesterday morning, when he said he was going to pick herbs for you.”
    Gaius frowned. “Well then, he must just be at the tavern.” 

Even Arthur could tell that Gaius didn’t believe what he was saying, but there wasn’t much he could do. He was pretty sure Merlin had never set foot in the tavern in his life. In fact, he was positive that the man couldn’t even find it if his life depended on it. Still, Arthur sent a guard to the tavern to see if he really was there, and asked Gwen if she’d seen him. Once again she said no, but assured him that he was probably just doing some extra duties to help Gaius.

He went to every part of the castle, asking if they’d seen Merlin. No one had, but everyone had kind things to say about him which made a warm feeling settle into Arthur’s stomach. 

The kitchen girls said he hadn’t been in since the morning earlier to fetch Arthur his breakfast, and they asked him if Merlin had liked the extra rolls they’d given his servant. The cook told him to tell Merlin when he saw him next that she saved him some of the fruit pastries that he liked from the dinner before. The laundry maids said they hadn’t seen him since that same morning when he’d brought them Arthur’s clothes and helped them with some of their loads. One of them got a dreamy look in her eyes when Arthur asked after Merlin and only stopped when her friend elbowed her in the side and reminded her that she wasn’t Merlin’s type (which only made Arthur wonder what exactly Merlin’s type was). He thanked all of them but in the end concluded that no one had seen him since the morning before.

Soon enough his father caught on to what he was doing, and called him into his chambers.

“Arthur, my boy,” Uther started diplomatically. Watching his son fidget nervously he realized that it had been a while since they had had a good father-son chat. “How are the knights?”

“Good, good, they’re all good,” Arthur murmured distractedly. His thumb was twiddling nervously with the other beneath the table, and all he wanted to do was leave his father’s presence and continue searching for his wayward manservant.

Uther nodded. “Good, that’s good.” They continued to stare at each other in awkward silence.

“Did you need me for something?” He finally asked, breaking the silence. Uther sighed.

“I heard a rumor that you missed drills with your knights this morning.”

Arthur frowned. It was true, of course, but it wasn’t like he ever made a habit of it. In truth the knights probably deserved a break too.

He nodded. “I let Leon lead it this morning.”

“You also missed the council meeting after lunch.”

“Councilor Julien said he could fill in for me with my notes since there weren’t any major decisions being made.”

Uther pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, a familiar gesture that Arthur recognized in himself. It meant that his father was waiting for him to figure out the point he was trying to make without actually saying it, something Arthur had never been good at.

“I heard that you sent some guards looking for something in the lower town.” He raised a menacing eyebrow and Arthur instinctively flinched.

“I-yes, I supposed I did.”

Uther nodded again. “I see, I see. Tell me then, what was so important that you dragged valuable men from their posts to do a servant’s errand?”

That actually was a good question, Arthur realized. It probably would have made more sense to send another servant to look for Merlin, but then that servant would have been dangerously unprepared if Merlin was in trouble. And the guards were probably more trustworthy than some of the servants, so really his actions were justified. He was worried about a member of his household, no matter how small, he thought. Merlin played an important role in his life, Arthur reasoned, and he knew a lot about the castle and the royal family. It was important to keep such information safe just in case-

“My point, Arthur, is why did you send important resources on a simple errand?”

“I-”

Uther interrupted him and continued speaking. “tated his father was, but he couldn’t see the big deal. It wasn’t like he’d thrown the whole day away looking for Merlin, but just as he was thinking this he peaked around his father to look out the window behind his father. Dusk was settling down on the castle and her courtyards, and Arthur felt a sinking feeling in his gut.

No one had seen Merlin for a whole day.

“Do you see why this could be a problem for the Crown Prince, or do I need to spell it out for you?” Uther asked harshly. “It’s unseemly for a member of the royal family to run around like a chicken with its head cut off when one servant goes missing.”

“But he could be in danger!” Arthur protested.

“So? He’s probably just drunk in the tavern,” Uther said with a dismissive wave of a hand. “Feel free to dock his wages, or even fire him. I don’t care, but I don’t want a repeat of today happening again. Have I made myself clear?”

Arthur nodded. “Yes father,” he said quietly.

Uther sighed and dismissed him with the wave of his hand.

Chapter Text

Merlin stormed into the Council’s Cave, not caring that his heavy footsteps caused rocks to slide down the walls. He’d left Mordred in Kilgharrah’s cave, who had seemed surprised to see either of them. Merlin, however, was not in the mood for conversation, and left before he could start asking him questions.

Surprisingly enough it was mostly empty with the exception of his father and Apopha, who both looked up at him as he stepped in. It was clear that neither had been expecting to see him.

“Emrys,” his father started, “What-”

“When were you going to tell me that we were starting a war?”

Apopha shot Balinor a look. She opened her mouth to say something, but was shot down by a vicious glare from the latter.

“Where did you hear that?” Balinor said, his tail twitching in irritation.

“So you’re not even going to try and deny it?” Merlin asked.

“I asked you where you heard that.”

Smoke pooled from Merlin’s nose. “It doesn’t matter. Why didn’t you tell me? Why am I really in Camelot?”

A sigh escaped him. “You’re in Camelot to gain knowledge and influence of the inner workings of the government.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think? A coup is complicated, we need at least someone inside to ease the transition of power.”

Merlin ground his teeth. “Even if I did have the influence necessary for that, one person wouldn’t be enough to do what you’re suggesting. What about those who resist?”

Apopha shrugged. “Obviously we’re stronger. We’d kill them.”

NO! A voice within Merlin roared, the same instincts that had reminded him of his hoard reared up in anger and fear. He would not let those he cared about come to harm. In that moment he knew he would protect those he cared about until his dying breath.

“You’d kill everyone? Even the innocent?”

A snort from Apopha. “The innocent? Anyone who stands idly by while Uther commits his crimes lost their right to innocence a long time ago. Besides, we won’t kill all of them. We’ll need slaves, and perhaps some entertainment. Maybe even some snacks.”

Merlin couldn’t handle it anymore. He blurted out, “You can’t do this! I won’t stand for it!” His fury was a shrieking beast trapped under his skin, moments away from bursting out.

“Emrys!”

“Look, I’ll kill Uther and be done with it. He’s the only one who’s truly guilty, isn’t it him that’s caused everything? Leave the other ones alone!”

“And why should we?”

“Because I like them!”

Apopha looked up sharply. “Did I just hear what I think I heard?”

    Uh oh. This was bad, Merlin realized. He needed to fix this, and do it quickly. “Arthur is...complicated. I don’t think he’s like Uthur. I still don’t know what you’re planning, but if it helps, it seems from what I’ve observed that a King of Camelot might be a good ally. Even if he’s just a puppet king.” He’d never let Arthur just be some puppet king, but he was already toeing the line with his father at the moment.

    A harsh cackling burst from the red dragon. “You’re joking, right? A human king as an ally? The elders could have you banished for talking like that.” Merlin could feel the heat rising from her ruby scales as she leaned forward. “You’re too young to remember the war, all the death and destruction caused by Uther and his kingdom. We owe it to our ancestors to raize the kingdom to the ground.”

    “But there are some who are innocent!” He protested. “Not all of the humans there hate magic. Some even have magic themselves.”

    “And how do you know this? Because you were there when Uther and his guards rounded some of them up last month? Because you were there to watch when they burned at the stake? And when their friends and family mourned their losses you saw them be publicly whipped? Were you there too?”

    “I-”

“There are more things going on than meet the eye, princeling,” Apopha all but snarled, glaring at him. “For a being who supposedly has an infinite supply of magic, you’re pretty clueless to what’s been happening. You still don’t know the full reach of your powers and our influence. You’re humanness can only hurt the cause and yourself- ”

    “Apopha,” Balinor warned, “We’ve discussed this.”

    “You can’t keep sheltering him. He needs to know.”

    “You have no right to call me sheltered !”

Balinor sighed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately, Merlin noticed.
    “Apopha, leave us. I will speak to you later.”

With one last angry snort, Apopha left the cave in a huff. Merlin could hear her stomps echo through the corridor before she leapt off the edge and her great wings carried her away.

“What the hell was that?” He all but shouted, whirling around to face his son. Merlin flinched as the harsh words seemed to punch him. The full weight of what he had said was starting to settle on him. Spending so much time among the humans had...changed him. And he couldn’t decide if it was for better or worse.

“Sympathy for the human king?” He yelled. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t sympathizing with that monster, I was sympathizing with the people he hurt, which includes his son! Everyone in Camelot has been affected by his cruelty, and nearly everyone knows someone who’s been put to death after accusations of sorcery, true or not.”

“You are my son,” Balinor said slowly, “And I have certain expectations for you. Why can’t you be more like Apopha?”

Merlin remembered Apopha growing up. She was clever and strong, a great fighter and an even better strategist. It wasn’t a surprise that she was a general now, and no less a surprise that she was still a bully.

“I don’t want to be like Apopha,” he said stubbornly. “And like you’ve told me before, I’m different. Different parents, different skills, I’m even a different size than everyone else!”

It was true. He was smaller than most of the dragons his age, and was still occasionally confused for a pup. He never met his mother, but Merlin knew that his human side came from her and was to blame for his shortcomings. It was what he had been taught his whole life.

“You’re supposed to be better than your human weaknesses ,” Balinor growled, “The prophecy said-” He stopped himself, and now Merlin was even more furious. This was just another thing that had been neglected to be told to him.

“What. Prophecy.” 

“The prophecies are...conflicting. Kilgharrah and I have already picked the best path for you, for us, and we need to focus on it. I forbid you from trying to look into them, it will just confuse you.”

“You can’t just-can’t just forbid me from-”

“You don’t need your head filled with fanciful futures that might never come true!”

Every possibility of a response swirled inside of Merlin, but nothing came out. The promise of a better future, no matter how skeptical, was too enticing to pass up. He had to find out what his father was hiding from him.

“What do they say?” The small voice belonged to Mordred, who was slowly peeking his head into the cavernous room. “What do the prophecies say?”
    Merlin spun around to protect Mordred from the column of flame shooting from his father with seconds to spare. He felt the flames lick his scales, protected only because the flames were a warning shot. His piercing yellow eyes glared accusingly at his father, who had the conscience to at least look taken back and slightly guilty for taking his temper out on an innocent pup.

“We’re leaving,” Merlin said, herding Mordred out. “We can finish this discussion later.”

“Emrys! Wait-”

“We’ll talk later. I don’t want to keep talking with you right now.”

----

    “He’s fine,” Arthur said, pacing to and fro in Morgana’s room. “He has to be, right?”

    She looked up at him, nonplussed, from where she lay on her bed twiddling with a ring. “Are you still worried about your missing manservant?”
    Arthur scowled. “I’m not worried for him ,” He said, hating how right she was. “I’m worried that I’ll have to find a replacement...for him.”

    Morgana snorted. “Alright then, if that’s what you want to tell yourself.” She went back to reading the emerald book she’d recently got ahold of from Geoffrey.

“It’s just,” He tried, “It’s just that he’s so helpless and terrible at defending himself, so what if something happens to him then-”

“Arthur,” Morgana had interrupted him as she sat up on the bed. “I’m sure he’s fine. He survived long enough before he met you.”

“But what if he’s not?”

“He’s fine ,” She repeated. “There must be something that’s special about him. Honestly, I’m surprised he’s made it so far working for you without quitting.”

Arthur blinked. “What do you mean?”
    She stared at him incredulously. “Really? Think about it, Arthur. You treat him horribly and constantly overwork him. You tease him and poke fun at him in public all the time. It’s a wonder he hasn't just gone quit already.”

He frowned. “You really think so? I thought we were-” He paused, unsure what to say. Arthur thought Merlin knew he was just joking around when he said those things. Most of the time he was just doing it in an effort to get Merlin’s attention or make him laugh.

Morgana hummed. “I suppose,” She started, eyeing Arthur carefully, “If you look at it from a certain angle, it would look a lot like pigtail pulling between two people who are certainly...friends.”

“Exactly! It’s just how men-”

“But only if you were looking at it from the angle of an emotionally constipated idiot who doesn’t have the guts to admit his feelings.”

He rolled his eyes. “How do you manage to make something that’s supposed to be reassuring sound like an insult?”

“It’s a special talent of mine.”

“I don’t need to admit my feelings because I don’t have any!”
    Morgana raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”
    “Yes, I’m sure that Merlin is quite aware that I’ve made as many discreet exceptions as I can to let him know I consider him a friend.”

Somehow Arthur got the sense that Morgana was frustrated for some reason. She was giving him an incredulous expression and looked like she was simultaneously fighting the urge to groan in frustration or burst into laughter.

----

    “Are you alright?” Merlin asked, looking over the smaller dragon for injuries. Mordred just looked up at him with wide scared eyes.

    Immediately after leaving the cave, Merlin had rushed Mordred to where Kilgharrah lived. The cavernous space was large enough for a huge dragon to live and move comfortably along with all of its loot and treasure. Beautiful crystals in all the colors of the rainbow hung down from the ceilings, and in a normal situation Merlin would take a moment to admire the view.

    Right now, however, he was staring intently at Mordred’s injury. Dragon scales were meant to withstand flames, but Mordred was still fairly young and Balinor was quite powerful. The bright green scales that normally covered his flank were peeling off and the sensitive skin beneath was blistered. Kilgarrah stood over the pair, merely observing (rather unhelpfully, Merlin thought).

    “I’m sorry, Emrys,” Mordred said softly, wincing in pain as one of Merlin’s probing talons caught on a scale that was flaking off. He decided to shift into his human form to better inspect and heal the injuries. “I shouldn’t have followed you.”

    “No,” He agreed, “You shouldn’t. But my father...he shouldn’t have attacked you either.” Merlin looked up at Kilgharrah. “Can you help him?”

    The old dragon hummed thoughtfully. “I can, but it is better if you do it. Your father is already displeased enough with you, it does neither of us any good for me to anger him as well.”

    Merlin glared at him. “Seriously? We’re going to play that game? You’re better at healing than I am.”

    The older dragon gave him a hard look. “Remember, young one, that you are the only dragon amongst us who cannot be physically controlled by Balinor’s orders. Forgive me for trying to remain on the good side of both men who could destroy me.”

    Merlin scoffed, but he did have to acknowledge he had a point. “ I can’t do what he can,” He mumbled softly, beginning to start the healing process for Mordred. “At least, not yet.”

    “You won’t until he dies.”

    He froze.

    “The mantle of dragonlord passes from father to son when the elder dies, and your magic is powerful enough to usurp him with ease. It may even be possible without killing him.”

    He shook his head. “Stop talking-just stop,” Merlin muttered. “Stop telling me stuff like that. What do you even get out of this?”

    “And why do I need to get something out of this, hm?”

    “Because you don’t do anything unless it benefits you,” Merlin replied matter of factly. The elder let out a huff.

    If Kilgharrah had eyebrows he would raise them. “You don’t know?”

    “No, that’s why I asked.”

    He stretched out his limbs, and Merlin ducked to avoid the expanding wings. Kilgarrah sprawled out on the floor, exhaling slowly.

    “I want a lot of things,” He began. 

    Merlin resigned himself to an hour or so of cryptic ramblings and returned his attention to the healing magic.

“I’ve always wanted, ” Kilgarrah mused. “All dragons do, it’s in our nature. We are instinctual hoarders, it’s ingrained in us to want-no, to need things.”

“What do you want?” Mordred asked, wincing as Merlin moved his wing. The younger dragon sounded curious, so Merlin was willing to tolerate Kilgarrah’s stories if it kept him distracted from the pain.

“Gold, jewels, tapestries, treasure, anything valuable or precious . At least, that’s what I used to want.”

“Every dragon wants that,” Merlin muttered. He didn’t add on the fact that every dragon seemed to want that, except for himself. He couldn’t even be normal enough to want what dragons were supposed to want.

It was too much to think about at the moment.

“Then I watched Uther Pendragon destroy everything I cared about in the blink of an eye. It may have taken him decades, but for a being as old as I am it’s hardly any time at all. Then, the things I wanted began to change.”

Mordred made an interested noise so Merlin suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“What I wanted changed. No longer did I want to grow old with my hoard, I wanted revenge. I was willing to bide my time, and eventually my salvation came in the form of an anomaly, a miracle meant to deliver us from Uther’s tyrannical rule.”

It was good to see that Kilgharrah wasn’t too upset to keep from a long and cryptic monologue, Merlin thought. If the dragon ever said something in a straightforward answer, then Merlin would take that as a sign to be worried.

“Let me guess,” Merlin interrupted, “It was my father?”
    Kilgharrah chuckled, already getting into a storytelling mood. “Not quite, young warlock. They are a dragonlord, powerful in his own right through his shifting abilities and magical prowess. He is a being made of pure magic.”

“Who?” Mordred asked, clearly intrigued.

Merlin shook his head. “Yes, dear Kilgharrah, who? ”

Kilgharrah’s golden eyes turned to bore into Merlin’s. “Why Emrys, it’s you. ”

“Shut up, ” Merlin hissed. “I told you to stop talking like that! I don’t want anything to do with-”

“The prophecies insist you are more likely to be successful on a different path than your father’s,” Kilgharrah mused. “The future he has chosen to fight towards may achieve his goals, but not without a painful amount of suffering and struggle. The path you could choose, however, could mean paradise.”

Mordred gasped. “Really?”

“The prophecies are wrong,” Merlin snapped, beginning to feel himself heat up in frustration. “I’m not-it won’t-stop trying to use your ridiculous dream visions to decide my whole future. I’m sick of it!”

Kilgharrah growled. “It will do you no good to have that attitude, Emrys, especially when they have constantly been proven true beforehand.”

“I. Don’t. Care.”

Merlin was silent as he continued to heal Mordred, not responding to any of Kilgharrah’s remarks or attempts at further conversation. Mordred fell asleep as soon as they quieted and Merlin was left to heal him in peace. When he decided the younger dragon was as healed as he could get, he stood up from the ground and stretched.

“We’re leaving,” Merlin announced, tapping Mordred’s shoulder to wake him. “Mordred and I will be going back to Camelot for a while, I’m not sure when we’ll return.”

“Emrys-”

Merlin rubbed a tired hand over his weary face. His joints and muscles ached after the hours of controlled magic flowing through them. Healing was difficult, and nothing, it seemed, could be easily solved by a simple wave of the hand and a muttered spell.

“I’m sure my father will contact me soon,” Merlin replied, his tone bitter. “At least as soon as he finds a use for me. In the meantime, however, you’ll have to make do without your precious coin.”

    Mordred stood up, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Merlin led him out of Kilgharrah’s cave, not at all surprised by the sullen silence the older dragon met him with.

    “We’re going to go back to Camelot,” Merlin explained, trying to sound as cheery as possible. “You said you wanted to meet my friends, right? I think you should stay with me, at least for a little while.”

    Mordred nodded as he stifled a yawn. “For how long?”
    “I don’t know,” Merlin murmured. “I don’t know.”

    A few hours later, the pair arrived on the outskirts of Camelot’s forests. Merlin shifted first, and helped ensure that Mordred’s shift didn’t injure anything. Once he had decided that the young dragon was appropriately disguised, they headed back into the city.

    “You’re going to just go by Mordred, don’t worry about a clan-er, family name,” Merlin said as he began to drill him. “We’ll say we’re relatives. You call me Merlin, and only Merlin, not Emrys or anything else. You don’t have magic and neither do I. We don’t know anything about it, so we can’t have an opinion on it. But , if you have to say something about, and only if you have to, say you think it’s scary and you don’t understand it. That should be safe enough, I think.”

    Mordred frowned but nodded in agreement anyways.

“If anyone asks, we’re from a small village up North, it’s so small that it's not even on a map, alright? And it’s in Cenred’s kingdom, which is why we’re not citizens of Camelot.”

    “Okay.”

    “The king is Uther, do everything you can to stay off of his radar. The less you have to interact with him the better. You’ll meet my other friends, too. Gwen, Gaiius, and Morgana will all love you, I’m sure. Arthur is the prince, and he’s, um, good, I guess.”

    Mordred smiled at him. “Just good?”

    “What’s that supposed to mean?”

    The younger shrugged. “Just that you were pretty passionate when you were talking about him earlier.”

    Merlin was silent for a beat.

    “It’s just that,” Mordred continued, “You said that you think he can fix things.”

    “Because he can,” He replied. Merlin grabbed Mordred’s hand to keep him from tripping over a root. Trying to get used to a new body was difficult, and twisted ankles were unpleasant. “Careful, don’t trip.” 

“Thanks.”

They were silent for a few more minutes, and just as they were able to catch sight of the first few buildings of the lower  town, Mordred spoke again.

“You said you trusted him with your life.”

    Merlin was blushing and he didn’t know why.

    “What about it?”

    “Did you really mean it?”

    Merlin groaned. “Maybe. But promise me you won’t tell him I said that, or he’ll get a big head.”

    The younger dragon giggled but agreed, and Merlin used the momentary distraction to get out of having to admit the terrifying truth that, yes, he really did mean it. Merlin pointed out the bakery.

    “Look!” He exclaimed. “That’s where they make pastries. There’s this thing called a pie, and it’s divine.”

    Mordred’s eyes widened, and if Merlin didn’t double check to make sure the glamour was working, he knew they would be glowing. He continued to distract him all the way to the castle just by listing off the various baked goods he knew would be loved by the young boy.

    “Be careful when you get excited, make sure you don’t shift back at all. I cast a glamour over you to make sure any defects go unnoticed, but if you get too energetic and use your magic it might slip and that would be very bad,” Merlin continued to drill. 

“Okay.”

“And you absolutely cannot use any magic. At all.”

“But you use magic all the time!” Mordred whined. “And I promise I’ll be careful-”

“ No ,” Merlin interrupted. Suddenly he had a lot more respect and appreciation for Gaius’ frustration. “Absolutely not. If you got caught I’m not sure I’d be able to protect you, and even if you were careful, if someone so much as suspects you can be accused and killed with no evidence.”

Mordred was pouting. “Fine.”

Now Merlin felt guilty.

“Hey,” He said softly, grasping the younger’s shoulder just as the castle came into view. “It’s going to be alright, I promise. Just, be careful and try to be safe, and I’ll protect you from everything else. Okay?”

----

Arthur was expecting a lot of things from Merlin when he finally showed back up again (namely an explanation), but a child was not one of them.

“He’s my, er, cousin?” Merlin told him, managing to somehow seem unsure of himself. “His parents are...gone, and my mother can’t take care of him for a while, so he has to come live in Camelot with me.”

“Is that why you left so suddenly?”

His manservant winced, and Arthur could tell he felt at least somewhat guilty. Good, he thought. Merlin made Arthur, no, everyone worry about him.

“It was very urgent?”

The prince sighed, and then knelt down in front of the boy. When he had first seen the child, Arthur had been unable to quash the strange and possessive fear that Merlin had a son, that the possibility of a wife-he stopped that line of thinking quickly, realizing nothing good would come of it. As soon as he knew they were cousins, well, he knew instantly he would help Merlin however he could.

“Hello,” He said kindly, offering him a smile. “What’s your name?”

Mordred blinked at him in confusion, and he glanced between Arthur and Merlin.

“Er-his name’s Mordred,” Merlin answered for him, “He’s a bit shy.” 

    “Mordred,” Arthur repeated, looking him up and down. The boy was quite young, it seemed, and he looked rather nervous. He looked back up to Merlin. “How was the journey, then? I thought you lived farther away, but you’ve only been gone for a few days.”

    “Right,” Merlin scratched his head. “Well, he, uh, met me halfway, Mordred here managed to talk a farmer into giving him a ride. It was all so sudden, so I didn’t have time to let anyone know where I was going and-”

    “It’s alright,” Arthur interrupted. “I was- We were worried about you, Gaiius especially. I don’t think he’s slept a wink since you left.”

    Merlin hung his head. “Sorry,” He mumbled.

    “It’s just-don’t do that again, okay?” Arthur finally settled on. “Let someone know where you’re going instead of just disappearing on us. Gwen thought you were kidnapped!”

    The manservant snorted, giving the prince a wry grin. “Oh, and I don’t know anyone else who has a habit of getting taken-”

    “Yes, yes,” Arthur interrupted him again. “I’m sure you’re very tired, so why don’t you go rest once you’ve let Gaiius know you haven’t fallen off the face of the planet. I can bring your cousin up to Gwen and Morgana if he’d like. They’ll love someone new to fawn over for a while.”

    Arthur watched in pleased satisfaction as Merlin blinked, surprised at the offer. The resulting expression of relief on his face made Arthur want to smile at himself.

    “Yes, please,” Mordred said softly, and Arthur offered his hand to bring the boy to the women. 

    Merlin patted his cousin’s shoulder comfortingly before rubbing his eyes. “Right, well then,” he murmured. “To Gaiius, I suppose. Wish me luck?”

    The prince rolled his eyes before indulging him with a sarcastic “Good luck.”

    Arthur and Mordred watched him go. If the young boy was still nervous about being left with a stranger, he no longer showed it.

    “He likes you a lot, you know,” Mordred said, as soon as Merlin was out of sight. “I think he only insisted I come with him so I could meet you. He’s trying to show you off, I think.”

    If Arthur found himself blushing, well, that was no one else’s business. 

    “O-oh?” He managed to get out. “I like him too, I suppose. He’s a good friend.”

    Mordred snorted. “Of course he is.”

    “What’s that supposed to mean?”

    “Merlin,” Mordred began, pronouncing his manservant’s name in a strange way (as if he didn’t have a lot of practice saying the syllables, Arthur thought, which was strange because they were supposed to be cousins). “Merlin is awesome. You don’t even know how great he is.”

Arthur chuckled, chalking the child’s strangeness up to a sort of hero worship for his older cousin. “Are you two close?” He asked as he began to lead him up to Morgana’s rooms. Arthur was hoping she and Gwen wouldn’t ask too many questions of how he acquired a small child. He figured as long as he let them know that Merlin was back, alive and well, they wouldn’t press him too hard for information.
    “The closest!” Mordred exclaimed, happily following the prince. “We’re best friends!”

“That’s nice,” Arthur agreed. “Merlin and I are pretty good friends too, you know.”

The young boy nodded sagely. “I know. He told me about you.”

He found himself oddly invested in what Merlin had to say about him. “Oh? What did he say?”

 Mordred shook his head, a grin appearing on his small face. “Nuh uh. Can’t say, I promised him.”

Now Arthur was really intrigued.

 “Really? I’m sure I could come up with a better offer than your cousin.”

The devious smirk on his face would have been unnerving if Arthur hadn’t already found the small child adorable.

“Like what?”

“What do you want?”

Arthur, of course, was an expert negotiator. He was meant to be king, so he had more than enough training and experience barter effectively and efficiently with a child .

Or so he thought.

By the time he reached Morgana’s chambers, Arthur had agreed to give Mordred the following list: three pies, four pumpkin tarts, and a pile of shiny gold coins (Mordred impressed upon him the importance that they must be very shiny for the deal to be complete).

If Arthur hadn’t been awed by the child’s sheer power, he would’ve been more than embarrassed to realize how much he was willing to do to find out his manservant’s opinion of him.

“Okay,” Mordred said, not even out of breath despite talking nonstop on the walk up the stairs. “I’ll tell you the first part now, and then the second part once you deliver, m’kay?”

    Arthur nodded, leaning up against the doorframe.

    “He thinks you can fix things.”

    The prince blinked.

    “What do you-fix what?”

    Mordred shrugged. “I don’t think I’m allowed to say it. Maybe it’s because you’re a prince? But I won’t tell you the other part until you give me what you promised.”

    He snorted, but offered the young boy his hand to shake in agreement. Mordred looked immensely confused for a moment, simply staring at the outstretched hand, before he tentatively pinched it with his fingers.

    “A deal’s a deal,” Arthur said, chalking it all up to different traditions in the countryside. “Now, are you ready to meet the esteemed Lady Morgana and-”

    “Arthur!” Morgana exclaimed, throwing open the door. “Merlin’s back! Gwen saw him in the hallway and-”

    Reflexively Mordred had ducked behind Arthur when the door had opened, but he peeked out around him as he caught sight of Morgana.

    “I know,” Arthur  drawled. “I just had a conversation with him.”

    She glared at him. “Well? What did he say? Why was he gone?”

    Arthur motioned for Mordred to step out from behind him, and he gestured at the small boy.

    “This is his cousin, Mordred,” Arthur explained. “Merlin has to look after him for a while, so he brought him to Camelot.”

    Morgana looked confused for a moment, looking between Arthur and Mordred before kneeling as Arthur had done.

    “Hello,” She said gently. “I’m Morgana.”

    Unlike when meeting Arthur, Mordred showed no hesitancy. The young boy’s face lit into a huge grin and he rushed forward to hug her.

    “Hi!” He said, cheerily looking up at her. “We’re gonna be friends!”

    Morgana blinked, clearly taken back, but eventually smiled back. “If you say so, little one.”

    “Well,” Arthur started. “If that’s all, I really should be getting back to Gaius' to check on Merlin, so-”

Morgana waved her hand in clear dismissal. “Yes, yes. Go bother Merlin for a bit.”

Arthur gave her a grateful smile in return. As soon as the door had been shut he rushed down to the infirmary where Merlin was supposed to have gone. A hundred thoughts raced through his head as he tried to decide what he would say.

When he opened the door, Arthur was greeted by the sight of Gaius making a potion of some kind. Nothing was out of the ordinary, but Gaius still seemed shaken by something.

"Gaius?" He asked. "Is...did Merlin come see you?"

The old physician nodded. "Yes, he's resting now. Was there something you needed?"

"No," The prince shook his head. "I just wanted to speak with him more."

Gaius chuckled, and Arthur couldn't understand why he would think it was funny.

"Is he alright?" He decided to ask. "I told him to get some rest but I think we both know how likely it is that he'll actually listen to me."

"You'd be surprised, sire."

Arthur cocked his head. "Oh?"

"He listens and cares about you more than you realize, I think."

The prince blinked at him, confused.

“Don’t mind me,” Gaius continued, waving a hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry about the ramblings of a foolish old man. Merlin will be fine as soon as he gets some rest, I promise. In the meantime, you should do the same, sire. You look exhausted too.”

He nodded slowly. “O-kay.” Arthur turned to leave, but before he opened the door he looked back at the old physician.

“You take care of yourself too, Gaius, alright?” He said. Gaius worried about everyone else all the time, he needed to worry about himself for a change.

“Yes, yes, Prince, I will.”

----

    Merlin was very much charmed by the way Arthur interacted with Mordred. Throughout the entire conversation he had been terrified that the glamour he had placed over the young dragon’s features wouldn’t hold and that they would be found out. However, Arthur remained none the wiser and simply invited the young boy to meet Gwen and Morgana, which Merlin greatly appreciated.

    It was...cute how endearing Arthur had been the way he crouched down to introduce himself. He hadn’t acted like royalty, like a prince, he’d merely acted as Merlin’s friend.

    When he opened the door to the apothecary, he was welcomed with the sight of Gaiius’ startled expression.

    “Merlin!” He exclaimed. “Where have you been?”

    “Well-”

    “I thought you were dead! Or worse!”

    Merlin grimaced. “Not dead, very much still alive. 

    “Where were you? You didn’t tell anyone where you went!”
    He sighed, and fell into one of the rickety old chairs with a wheary thump. “I went to see my father.”

    “And?”

    “How much did he tell you of-of his plan?”

    “Plan?” Gaiius seemed confused. “I wasn’t aware he had a plan. I was simply contacted by your father who wanted to give his son a taste of human life. He had hopes for some sort of peace, I believe, when we first spoke. This was many years ago, of course, and I’d thought he’d forgotten our conversation until you showed up here.”

    “What.”

    “I didn’t understand why he would send you to me instead of your mother, but he seemed to imply he hoped to get an understanding of Camelot, perhaps for a future alliance. So I agreed.”

    Merlin swore softly. “ Fuck. ” He rubbed his tired eyes. “The lying, manipulative bastard .”

    Gaius frowned. “Merlin,” He started slowly, beginning to sound more worried. “What’s happened? What’s going on?”

    He looked at him dolefully. “I’m not entirely sure, he wouldn’t tell me all of it. But I know there’s a prophecy involving me and the destruction of Camelot.”

    Gaius’ expression changed from worry to cold betrayal.

    “What?” His tone had become low and angry. Merlin had never seen the man so genuinely furious. “Are you serious? I brought you in, trained you, gave you access to the prince-”

    “I didn’t know!” Merlin insisted. “I’m not- I promise I won’t let him do anything! I already had a fight with him, and I brought my...friend here to keep him safe from my father.”

    “Who did you bring?”

    “A younger dragon,” Merlin explained, standing up and beginning to pace. “He’s powerful, and I think I’ve convinced him not to side with my father.”

    “So,” Now Gaius sounded confused, “You’re going to fight...against your father? He’s one of the most powerful sorcerers this land has seen and a dragonlord too. I don’t know how many dragons are left, but-”

    “An army,” Merlin interrupted with a grimace. “He has an army of trained dragons.”

“We have to-I have to warn the king!”

“No!” Merlin hissed. He could tell Gaius was terrified. “We have some time. Probably. Besides, there’s no way for either of us to say anything without being executed! ”

“Are you sure?”

Merlin nodded. “I’m...sorry. If I had known what he was planning, well, maybe I would’ve gone through with it at first, but now I’m positive that I couldn't. I’m going to do everything in my power to fix this, I swear. My father will not harm Camelot so long as I can help it.

“That’s a bold declaration to make,” Gaius replied warily. “How can you be so sure you’re even able to stop him? If you say he has an army, then…”

“I…” Merlin didn’t want to reveal what Kilgharrah had told him, partly because the idea still terrified him. Merlin didn’t know what he wanted, but he was nearly positive he didn’t want the future Kilgarrah had foretold for him. “I haven’t ironed out the exact details, but I know for sure that Camelot will be protected.”

“I can’t-”

“ Please,” Merlin begged. “I know that I have no right to demand you trust me, but I wouldn't have told you this if I  meant you any harm. I’d do anything to keep Camelot and her people safe. You know that, right?”

Gaius gave him a long hard look before turning away back to the mixture he had been working on.

“Of course I do,” He said softly. “I know that you care too much about...to let your father destroy it all.”

He paused, Merlin thought. Why did he pause?

“This is about Arthur, isn’t it,” Gaius said softly. “And others, I’m sure. You didn’t mean to get attached, but now that you are, you won’t…”

Merlin glared at him. “It’s not...not just Arthur, you know. It’s you too, and Morgana and Gwen and Lancelot and-” He sighed. “The point is, I’m not what my father wants me to be right now, and the moment I decided to have any sympathy I knew he would-he would be furious.”

“I’m sorry he’s like that.” Merlin could tell that the old man was sincere, and he absolutely hated that a human he’d only known for a few months seemed to care more about him than the father who had raised him.

Or, now that Merlin put some thought into it, had Balinor ever made an attempt to connect with him? He’d always been willing to pass Merlin onto one of his many tutors or even Kilgharrah whenever he got busy.

“It’s fine,” Merlin lied. “I don’t mind living in Camelot, it’s nice. For once I feel like I can actually be...useful?”

Gaius seemed unsure of what to say, so he settled on a sympathetic nod. “You seem exhausted,” He said, “And nothing can be done if you’re unable to stand on your own two feet. Go, rest for a while. I’ll have something for you when you wake.”

He smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

The elderly physician merely waved him off, and Merlin chuckled as he went up the stairs to collapse into bed. His last coherent thoughts before he slipped into sleep was of his hoard and how he would protect them in the coming days.

----

Merlin's mother had a visitor.

Four year old Merlin waved goodbye to Will as he walked down the road in the opposite direction to his own home. Merlin turned to the cottage where he lived with his mother. There was a man standing in their front yard and giving their chickens a strange look.

"Hello!" Merlin said. The stranger turned, revealing a tall gentleman with a weathered face and who wore well-kept clothes. He looked thoughtfully down at Merlin for a moment before he knelt to be at eye level with him.

"Hello, young warlock," He said, his voice low and rumbly. Merlin's eyes widened when he realized what the man had called him. No one was supposed to know! His mother told him it had to be their secret!

"But-I'm not-"

"Hush," the man said firmly. "You do not need to fear me. I will not harm you for having magic. After all, it is your birthright." He didn't talk like anyone else in the village, his speech was too well refined and he had a posh accent.

Merlin blinked. "What's a birth-right?"

"Would you like to be a prince, Merlin?"

His mouth fell open. A prince! Of course he would like to be a prince, who wouldn't? And, because Merlin was clever (just like his mother always told him he was), he knew that princes were the sons of queens, and if he became a prince then surely his mother would become a queen (not that she wasn’t already one to him). It would mean that she wouldn't have to work so hard and she wouldn’t always be so worried about protecting Merlin.

"Yes!" Merlin giggled, nodding his head up and down. "I would love to be a prince!"

The man chuckled, and the rumbling noise sounded like rocks echoing together from deep within a cave. "You will find out soon enough. Here," he pulled a small candy from his pocket, and held it out to Merlin. "Eat this, young one. Human children are fond of sweets, yes?"

Merlin took it as if in a trance. His mother had warned him against taking things from strangers, and he always listened to his mother, but the stranger was just so compelling. 

"My mum told me not to take things from people I don't know."

He smiled, but it didn't feel like a grin and more like he was just showing all his teeth. His teeth, Merlin noted, were a gleaming pearly white, which was something rare out in the countryside.

"But I'm not a stranger," He said matter-of-factly. "I promise we've met before, you just don't remember me. My name is-"

Even though he was young, Merlin knew something was different about him. As soon as he placed the red swirly candy in his mouth, his limbs felt heavy even as his tongue lit up.

"It's making my tongue all tingly," Merlin mumbled, looking up at the man unsure. He stood up again, and Merlin let out a gasp of shock as he saw his eyes flash a bright yellow.

"Merlin, darling!" A voice cried out. Both turned to see Hunith walking out of their small cottage. Her eyes flitted nervously from her son to the strange man standing next to him.

"Mummy!" Merlin ran towards her to give her a hug. "He gave me candy, and he has funny eyes!"

Now Hunith was truly worried, as she clutched Merlin and eyed the stranger distrustfully.

"Can I help you?" She asked, her voice cold. 

Despite her cool tone, the stranger responded courteously. "Ah," He started. "You must be Hunith. My name is Kilgharrah. I am…a friend, of Merlin's father."

Hunith froze as Merlin spun around in her arms to face Kilgharrah. "You know my dad?" He asked, bouncing on his toes. "What’s he like? Can I meet him?"

"Baby, why don't you go wait inside," Hunith murmured quietly to her son. "Mummy and Kilgharrah need to have a quick chat alone, okay?"

Merlin pouted. "But I want to talk to daddy's friend!"

She hushed him. "Merlin," She said firmly, "I need you to be a good boy and go play inside for a bit. Can you do that for me? Please?"

He frowned, but after a moment nodded. He let go of her skirts and turned slowly to their home. Trudging sadly up the little stone walkway and into the kitchen, he peaked out a hole in their door to see what was happening.

To any normal person, it would've been nearly impossible to hear everything the two were saying, but then Merlin had never exactly been normal. Sometimes, if he had trouble doing something, all he had to do was think really hard about fixing it, and then it would just fix itself. It was how he got all of his chores done so fast and managed to get himself out of tall trees when he got stuck (something that happened more often than he would like to admit).

"I won't be separated from him!" His mother was saying. She looked worried, and Merlin never liked it when she was worried because then it made him worry. 

Kilgarrah sighed. "I know that a mother's instinct can be...strong, but I assure you he would be much safer with us than with you."

"That's not true!" Hunith hissed. "He is plenty safe and cared for here , with me ." 

"Then he's able to practice his magic properly? He is growing and learning about his powers and birthrights?"

"Well-"

"Merlin would be better off away from humans, at least for the time being. Does he know?"

Huntih looked suspicious and nervous as she kept glancing back at the cottage like she knew Merlin was eavesdropping. Probably because she did. "Know what?"

"About his...heritage, specifically that of his father’s. Do even you know all of it?"

She was glaring at him now.

"Regardless of if I do, it doesn't matter now. Of course Balinor would only want to contact me again to take my son away! And he can't even be bothered to come himself, he sends his errand boy to do it."

A low growl escaped from Kilgharrah. "Careful, woman, about how you speak of my master. Balinor will do many great things in the coming days, and it is only natural that he wishes to have his only son and rightful heir by his side."

Hunith's face paled. "I may not know everything about Balinor, and I might not know what he's planning, but over my dead body will I let you drag my son into that lion's den of danger!" She snapped harshly. "He is a child! Just a boy! Surely even your kind have a concept of that?"

Kilgarrah nodded. "We do, but soon enough he will not be able to keep living as a human, at least not until he's given the proper care someone of his birthright needs. His time has run out, and he must now return to his father's clan."

"No! I won't allow it!"

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice. Emrys is returning home with me whether you like it or not."

“His name is Merlin! ”

“The prophecies call him Emrys as that is his true name, and it is the one that will be remembered until the end of time.”

Merlin didn't like how Kilgarrah was talking to his mother. He was scaring Hunith, and making her angry. This wasn't right.

"Please," She begged. "All I ask is that I can raise my son and let him decide what kind of man he wants to be."

"You will be compensated with his weight in gold. That’s something all humans find value in, yes? Certainly someone of your standing could use the wealth?"

"I don't want any of your gold, I want my son!"

The red candy in Merlin's mouth turned sour. He reached his hand up to spit it out, but it was too late. Exhaustion clung to his limbs as his eyes slipped shut. The last thing he heard was his mother crying his name while strong arms picked him up and carried him away.

When Merlin's eyes finally fluttered open, soft voices were talking in hushed tones. Sitting up slowly, he rubbed his head. Bright colored spots danced in his vision as he tried to remember how he got to where he was, which was a cave lit only by a strange floating light.

"Your son is just this way, Master. I'm sure you're eager to meet him."

"His mother gave him up so easily? That does not sound like the woman I remember."

"She practically begged me to take him. She does not understand the pup, of course, nor any of his gifts. It was easy to give her the gold as compensation. She is but a mortal woman who was overwhelmed by things she could never hope to understand. I assure you, he will flourish while he stays with us. I have foreseen it."

"Good."

There was a pause, before the older voice spoke again.

“I’m aware that you may still have some...feelings, for the human woman, but I must remind you once again-”

“Yes, Kilgharrah, I know. She’s a distraction to the cause, I swear she was merely a youthful dalliance. I’m fully committed to this mission, and I know in the end she would thank me for it.”

“I’m glad we see eye to eye, sire.”

Merlin was trying desperately to remember what happened. He had been playing down at the creek behind his house with Will and some of the other boys, he thought, and then it had started to get dark out and they went home. But Merlin couldn't remember ever actually getting home, or seeing his mother since the early morning. Which was another thing, because Merlin was having trouble remembering his mother. He couldn't remember her grown-up name, and memories of her face and voice were blurry. Part of the young boy realized that that couldn't be right, but the rest of him just felt so numb and tired.

"Hello," A kind voice said. Merlin peeked up at the man crouching next to him. He had the same dark hair as Merlin's, only it was longer and shaggier. He looked familiar to Merlin.

"Hullo?" Merlin mumbled sleepily. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Who're you?"

He smiled. "I am your father, Emrys. My name is Balinor ."

---

Merlin woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. His covers were shoved off the bed and he stood up, trying to shake the overwhelming feeling of being lost and disoriented. Merlin stumbled down the stairs leading from his room to Gaiius' main work room where he began to pace among the tall cabinets and work tables.

The dream had felt so realistic-too realistic. 

The second part when he woke in the cave he had recognized and even vaguely remembered. The time before he came to live with his father among the dragons was so blurred in his memories, and he had always been assured it was best not to focus on it. He had been assured that it didn’t matter since he had been so young. No one had ever given him specifics, but Kilgarrah had always taught him that his human mother had been a boorish creature (as all humans were) who could not possibly begin to understand how much better and complex Merlin was. ‘Yes,’ Kilgarrah always said, ‘I am glad that I brought you to be with us, lest something terrible happen to you among the humans.’

But that couldn't be true, he reflected. It wouldn't be the first time that Kilgharrah or his father misled or outright lied to him. Bitter fury curdled in his stomach as he was reminded of everything the past few days had revealed to him.

He knew in the first part of the dream he had been young, and the emotions and detail of it were too specific for it not to be a memory. He couldn't figure out why he would not remember such a thing, and realized that it must have somehow been repressed magically and without his knowledge.

His first thought was about the candy. Kilgharrah was the most knowledgeable out of all the dragons when it came to magic and potions, and it wouldn't have been too much of a stretch for him to concoct a substance to blur his memories. That would actually make some sense.

"Merlin?" A voice startled him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Morgana standing in the doorway staring at him.

"Couldn't sleep," he mumbled. He cocked his head as he inspected her. Merlin knew she had magic, but hadn't figured out if she knew yet. "What about you, Lady Morgana?"

“You know you don’t have to worry about titles with me, right?” Merlin grinned. She sighed. "I also couldn't sleep. I came to see if Gaius had any extra sleeping draught I could take, even though I don't think it's working very well. But I thought that something must be better than nothing, right?"

She was fretting, Merlin realized. And he just couldn't have that! Morgana was a part of his hoard, and it was up to him to make sure that his hoard was safe, and in the case of the humans it was his job to make sure they were healthy and happy.

Which she wasn’t.

Which was a problem.

Merlin's problem, specifically. He had to fix this, or the angry buzzing under his skin was going to get worse and worse until his primal instincts caused him to transform and somehow attempt to physically fight whatever was hurting Morgana. That was something he should probably avoid, because a dragon in Camelot roaring and slashing at thin air would definitely raise some unwanted attention.

“Might I ask what makes it so hard to sleep?”

    For a moment Morgana looked hopeful, but a moment later her expression shuttered into fear and anxiety.

    She mumbled quietly, “It’s my dreams, I guess. Gaius said that the potions would make them go away and that I would go into a deep sleep, but…”
    “They’re still not going away?” Merlin asked. She nodded, confirming his suspicions. He knew that both Mordred and Kilgarrah sometimes got prophetic visions in the form of dreams, and that they could be quite upsetting (especially to Mordred who was more often than not unable to understand their meanings). He also knew that one would build up a tolerance to Gaius’ sleeping drought over time, and once increased to a certain amount it could become dangerously addictive.

    That gave him an idea.

    “Well,” He started slowly, “Perhaps we could try a different recipe for your sleeping potion? Maybe a change would help.”

    Morgana sighed again, not looking too optimistic, but nodded anyway. Merlin examined the dark bags under her eyes with worry, and resolved to fix things immediately.

    The problem was the prophetic visions weren’t something that could be cured with an errant spell or potion. In fact, they couldn’t really be stopped. Merlin supposed he could make an object of some sort that could dampen all but the most powerful visions, and then field off the rest of them himself. He knew some basic sigils that could help, but he would have to find a way to place them on or around Morgana to keep them at bay.

    With a reassuring smile, Merlin began the placebo potion. There wouldn’t be any actual medicinal properties in it, just some herbs that smelled nice and relaxing soaked in hot water. Morgana didn’t need to know any of that though, just that the nightmares would stop and she wouldn’t need to worry anymore. That would mean that Merlin wouldn’t have to worry anymore, and all would be right with the world.

    Except for everything else going on right now, Merlin reflected, but that could be dealt with later.

    He handed the new concoction to her. “Here,” He said, “Try this, it might help.”

    She gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, I hope it works. The dreams are quite...unsettling. 

    Merlin gave her a sympathetic smile. “Do you mind telling me what they’re about? I read somewhere that knowing the cause of nightmares can help cure them.”

She sighed. “I don’t know how to describe them without sounding insane. Most of the time I don’t even understand them, I just wake up terrified. And then there’s the strange things that happen when I wake up…” Morgana trailed off and sighed again. “It’s-it’s nothing, Merlin, that you can help with. Thank you, though, for the new potion.”
    “Of course. Feel free to come by with any other concerns, or if you want to maybe just talk.”

Morgana nodded. “Thank you again, Merlin. You’ve been nothing but helpful since you came to Camelot.” She placed the corked bottle into a pocket on her dress. “I must be off now, Uther wants Arthur and I at court early tomorrow and it would not do well for a lady of my status to doze off during his speech.”

He laughed. “I assure you that you won’t be the only one trying not to fall asleep. I’ll see you then,” Merlin said, giving her a small wave as she left. As soon as the door shut behind her he let out an anxious gust of breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

The strange things Morgana mentioned after waking up would be her magic, something that happened to a lot of magical beings with little to no control or training when they got emotional. Even Merlin with all his practice was still prone to outbursts now and then from his magic lashing out. He began to make plans to gather the necessary materials to make something to dampen Morgana’s visions. 

First he would need a dragon scale, preferably one of his own so it would contain his power and essence. It wouldn’t be hard for him to shake off a few the next time he shifted.. Next he would need some dragon charcoal to draw the runes into the scale with, which was also something he could make in his dragon form. He would also need some special herbs to soak and preserve the scale in, and those could only be gathered miles away. All of which meant he’d have to transform into his other form for at least a few days, which meant finding a suitable cover story to excuse his absence from Camelot as well as a safe place to transform. Gaius, he thought, would know what to do.

The next morning Merlin decided to not tell the old physician why he needed to leave Camelot so suddenly. He didn’t want to get his hopes up for nothing, and he didn’t want to make Gaius feel bad that he couldn’t help Morgana with his potion.

“Good morning, my boy,” Gaius said, rubbing his eyes as he came from his room. Merlin had never actually gone to bed, and had stayed up making plans and researching what he needed to do to help Morgana. At some point though he’d managed to fall asleep on some still-wet ink, and now he had a few blotches on his cheek.

“I need to leave Camelot,” Merlin blurted out, forgoing any subtlety. The new sunrise had renewed his sense of urgency, and if all went well he could have Morgana safe from nightmares in just a few days.

Gaius blinked. “Has something happened, Merlin? Does it have to do with your father?”

Merlin shook his head. “No, I just need to leave for the day or so, I should be back by tomorrow morning. There’s some things I have to get to make a thing to help a friend.”

“Is everything all right?” He frowned, looking his ward up and down. “This is quite sudden. Who is this friend of yours? Is there anything I can do?”
    Merlin stood up from the table, bones creaking and aching to shift into his other form. He talked as he began walking around the store room collecting what he’d need. “I just need you to cover for me, tell people I went to visit my mother or something. That’s something humans do, right?”

“Visit their mothers?”

“Yes, don’t they?”

Gaius nodded slowly. “I suppose we do, but you’ve never mentioned your mother except to say she lives very far away. And you only just came back after disappearing with no explanation!”

“Well I’m not actually going to see her,” Merlin muttered, but paused as he looked into a shelf full of bottles. The strange dreams he had were beginning to make him wonder if he should think about his early life a bit more, specifically about his mother and what happened to her. Did she still live in the human village he was born in or had she moved somewhere safer with the money he always assumed Kilgharrah had given her? Should he maybe look into that? Should he think about visiting her? Would she even want to see him?

“I mean that you’ve never mentioned it to anyone else here. It might be strange if you leave so suddenly to visit a relative you never talk about for a simple visit.”

Merlin groaned, turning to fix his mentor with an irritated stare. “I don’t know. Just make something up, I don’t care that much.”

“Merlin,” Gaiius was still frowning. “I don’t feel comfortable with you just leaving so suddenly like this. What if something happens to you?”

He snorted. “Nothing is going to happen to me, Gaiius. I’m a dragon, remember? I’m one of the most feared beasts in all of Albion, not to mention the fact that I have magic. I’ll be fine and I should be back by tomorrow.”

Gaiius sighed. “I’m going to have to come up with a different story that actually makes sense. I’ll say I had to send you off into the deep woods to get rare herbs and specimens for me.”

Merlin waved a hand in Gaiius direction, while he flicked he snapped his fingers on his other hand to get a collection of empty bottles to jump into his rucksack. “Whatever you think will be best.”

Chapter Text

"And where do you think you're going?" Lancelot asked flatly. "You just got back."

Merlin turned slowly on his heel, sheepishly hiding his traveling bag behind his back. 

"I won’t be gone long?"

"Oh? Gone for how long? And where are you even going?" Lancelot pushed. "Arthur went nearly mad just a few days ago, and the rest of us were all worried too."

Merlin hung his head. "I'm sorry, but I promise it's really important. I should be back soon, I just need to get some things to help a friend."

Lancelot raised an eyebrow. "Arthur?"

"No, someone else." Merlin laughed. "Believe it or not, not everything I do is about him."

Lancelot returned his laughter with a chuckle of his own. "Did you at least tell him where you were going this time?" 

"I told Gaius, he said he'd tell Arthur."

Lancelot cocked his head. "Does this have something to do with your...?" He trailed off, but his question was clear. Merlin shrugged.

"Yes, no. Someone else I care for has been struggling with it, and I'm the best person to help."

He smiled back at him warmly, fondness evident in his features. "Of course, Merlin. Best of luck with your trip."

Merlin waved him off and continued down the road. He hadn't been expecting to encounter anyone so early in the morning. As it was, he was exhausted and hadn't spoken to Arthur since the first conversation they had when he had gotten back. Hopefully, he thought, the prince would be lenient enough to ignore his second sudden disappearance.

As soon as he decided he was far enough into the woods of the town that he wouldn't be seen, he transformed.  First things first, he thought, and he went about scratching at his hide. It didn't take long for a few shiny scales to fall off, and he used a sharp talon to scrape them into his pack.

Next, he eyed the trees around him. Dragon fire was no ordinary fire, and the wood burned by it tended to have special properties.

Or at least, Merlin was pretty sure that's what he had been taught. Either way, he needed charcoal and the more magical the charcoal the better. A hazel tree would be the best choice, and the last thing he wanted was to set off a huge forest fire, so just breathing fire on a nearby tree was probably not a good idea.

Satisfied with what he had, Merlin shifted back. He had noticed transition between his two forms had gotten easier, and he was grateful that the burning muscles and aches in his bones seemed to fade faster than they used to. It made setting off deeper into the woods less painful.

A few hours later, Merlin realized how lucky he'd gotten. In the short span of  a few miles, he'd come across nearly all of the necessary ingredients. In a grove of trees he'd even found a few hazel trees. A short and stubby tree that might have been mistaken for a common bush had plenty of branches for him to use.

Merlin made quick work of collecting a few of the thicker branches. Transforming briefly to set them alight in the pit of stones he had made, he shifted back to sit in front of the fire crackling pleasantly in the cool morning air.

Of course, he couldn't forget to grab a few handfuls of hazelnuts. He'd roast them, he thought, perhaps he would give them to Arthur as a sort of ''sorry I keep disappearing without any explanation" apology gift.

As Merlin waited for the flames to die down into embers and create his charcoal, he let his thoughts wander to the events of the last few days.

"What do they want from me?" He pondered aloud, dragging a stick through the dirt.

"What does who want?" A voice asked, and Merlin startled, spinning around to see a cloaked figure standing behind him in the clearing.

"Mind if I join you?" The stranger asked, sitting down anyway when she realized Merlin was too surprised to speak. There was something different about her, he thought. There was magic and power beneath the well-worn traveling cloak.

Merlin blinked. "I-sure?"

She laughed softly and took off her hood to reveal a pretty face that was tanned from the sun. "My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you, but I saw your fire and hoped I could get a moment of rest." Merlin nodded, not exactly sure how to respond to the stranger. Irrational fear clutched at his mind as he realized how suddenly she had appeared. Before and after he'd transformed he'd listened and looked carefully to see if someone else was around.

"Where are you headed?" Merlin finally asked as he nervously picked at the stick in his hand. "We're pretty far off any of the trails."

"I'm looking for someone important," She replied. "What about you?"

Merlin shrugged. "I'm gathering herbs."

"You must have set out early, to get all the way out here. Where are you from?"

He hesitated only for a second before he told himself that regardless of whether she was friendly or not he could probably take her. Probably.

As he had reminded Gaius, he was a damned dragon.

"Camelot."

Her face lit up. 

"Oh! Camelot! The person I'm looking for is supposed to be there. Perhaps you know them?"

He shrugged again. "It's a big place, but I suppose. What's their name? What do they do?"

She hummed. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter much now. Just as I got close, my mother informed me they weren't there anymore. No one's sure where they could be, so I figured I may as well keep heading this way and hope I'd run into them." The woman tilted her head and gave Merlin an appraising look.

"I...see. Good luck finding them, I guess." He was silent for a few moments. "Why are you looking for them?"

She smiled at him, though Merlin couldn't guess why.

"My clan made an arrangement with his father, but recent events have made our council reconsider. My mother sent me to find his son in the hopes of a better deal."

Merlin stiffened, though he knew he had no rational reason to do so. There was something eerily similar about her situation, yet he couldn't put his finger on it. Afterwards, Merlin would kick himself for not realizing, but in all fairness he had a lot on his mind at the moment.

"Well," She continued, "We all know how powerful his son is, and no one doubts that he could overpower his father quite easily. We're a peaceful people, but his father wants to go back on his word. I'm hoping that his son has a different...perspective."

He nodded slowly. “I see.”

She laughed. “My name’s Celesta. What’s yours?”

“Merlin,” He answered without hesitation. “I’m Merlin.”

“Merlin,” She responded as if trying out the syllables in her mouth. “It’s good to meet you.” Celesta bowed her head as she said this, and while Merlin assumed it was just a sign of respect, something else niggled at the back of his brain.

“And you as well.”

“So, Merlin, what herbs are so important that you had to set out at such an early hour to fetch them?”

    Without thinking, Merlin picked up a coal from the fire and began tossing it from hand to hand. He didn’t even realize what he’d done until Celesta made a noise of surprise, and belatedly Merlin realized that most people didn’t easily pick up hot coals like they were pebbles on the wayside.

    “Er-”

    Amused mirth danced in her eyes and it looked like she was trying hard not to laugh at him. Merlin felt his face heat up.

    “So?” Celesta prompted, pointedly ignoring the steaming coal in his hand. “What herbs are you looking for?”

    “Vervain, poppy, henbane, and lady’s mantle. I’ve already got the poppy back home, but the rest are hard to find around Camelot.” 

    Celesta hummed. “I might be able to help,” She offered. “Come back to our camp, I believe my mother should have the necessary ingredients.”

    “I couldn’t possibly-”

    “What do you need them for?” Celesta asked, already standing up to beckon him. “Those are oddly specific herbs and I can’t think of a physician’s remedy that would need them.”

    Merlin didn’t know what to say, and he definitely knew he didn’t like how perceptive the woman was. He began to pat his pocket, trying to feel for the small knife he hoped he had remembered to bring with him. Something about Celesta was off.

    “It’s uh, complicated?”

    She chuckled. “I see. Then I don’t suppose they’d be the ingredients needed for a very powerful protection charm, hm?”

    Merlin blinked at her.

    “What? Nooo…” He trailed off, probably unconvincingly by the unimpressed look she gave him.

    “Come on, Emrys. Really, you don’t have to keep the act up with me. I’m pretty sure every magical being within a ten kilometer radius knows what you are.”

    “Oh-kay. Well, uh,” He stood up. “Really, I should probably get going-” Merlin moved a few steps back but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

    “Wait! Emrys,” Celesta began. “Please. I meant what I said earlier. We just want to talk.”

    “About my father, right?” Merlin sighed wearily. “Listen, I’m not sure what he’s done now, but I’ve recently decided that my father and I have to part ways for a bit. I can’t help you.”

    “Please,” She repeated. “We need help. We’re pacifists, you see, and if we’d had any idea what Lord Balinor was planning-” Celesta faltered, probably because of the murderous glare Merlin was sending her way. “You have to believe me, but we never would have made the deal we did. Now he’s forcing us to fight in his armies using the magic of the forest to ruin Camelot. Please.”

    Merlin could already feel his traitorous head nodding. He stood and offered his hand to help her stand as well.

    “Alright,” He said finally. “I’ll…see what I can do.”

    Celesta beamed. “You won’t regret this, Emrys, I promise.”

     He sighed.

    Merlin was definitely going to regret this.

----

“Where’s Merlin?”

Arthur inwardly groaned when he recognized Gaius’ guilty expression.

“Gaius?” He prompted. The old physician sighed as he set down the ingredients he’d been holding.
    “He’s…tavern. He’s at the tavern.”

“No, he’s not. I already checked.”

“Gone to visit…relatives?”

The prince threw his hands up in frustration. “He just got back from them!”

“Merlin was visiting his father’s side to get Mordred, I believe. This time it was to see…his cousin…on his…mother’s side. Yes, his cousin on his mother’s side.”

“And?” Arthur gestured impatiently. “What has she got to do with Merlin?”

“She’s…sick.”

“When will he come back?”

Gaius grimaced. “A few days, sire?”

“Tell Merlin that-that he has to tell me when he disappears!” Arthur growled. “Or-or he’s fired!” With that dramatic, albeit childish, announcement, the prince stormed out of the room.

The old physician sighed again. Really, the pigtail pulling was getting to be too much.

----

Celesta’s camp wasn’t far, just as she’d said. Merlin ignored the hushed whispers and awed stars the best he could by wrapping his cloak tighter and pulling the hood up. The first thing she did was hand Merlin the herbs he needed. He’d thanked her as he wrapped them carefully into his pack, and then stood awkwardly as she stared expectantly at him. He sighed.

“What did you want to tell me about?”

She grinned, and brought him over to a large tent in the center of the camp. Pushing aside the tent flap, Merlin followed her in to sit across from a small group of withered old women tending to candle flames. The bright blue glow was intriguing, Merlin decided. A motherly smile settled across her face when she saw him, and Merlin managed to mumble out a greeting.

“Celesta,” She said warmly. “Please, introduce our guest.”

He felt his face warm as Celesta rattled off a list of names and titles. That was normal amongst dragons, to have long names followed by even longer titles from accomplishments, ancestors, and even age. Merlin wasn’t sure he’d ever heard all of his listed at once, and was impressed with the ease that Celesta recited them.

“Just Merlin, is fine,” He tacked on quickly, when she finished. The old lady raised an eyebrow.

“A human name, then? So the rumors are true?”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Celesta frantically waving her hands.

“What rumors?”

She smirked, and Merlin felt uncomfortable with the way her cataract filled eyes seemed to bore into him. “Nothing important, just idle gossip amongst the seers. You being here means a great deal to us, my child. I am glad my daughter convinced you to listen to our plight.”

Merlin glanced down to his lap where his fingers rubbed the edges of his frayed shirt. “To be honest, I’m not sure how much help I can be. I’ve done my best to cut ties with my father after I realized he wanted Camelot destroyed, but I’m not even sure what he plans to do.”

The woman nodded. “My name is Inya, I am this clan's elder. The last dragonlord approached us many years ago with promises of peace and safety. We listened and agreed to his terms, not realizing that many of his schemes were not his own.” Merlin frowned at that, but she went on. “It was little things at first, messages he asked us to deliver or information smuggled out. But the demands grew into tributes to build his armies, and we were sent orders to attack caravans and raid specific villages. He did not take it well when we refused.”

“They sent us bad supplies,” Celesta spoke up. “It made most of us sick with a curse, and he wouldn’t give us the antidote until we…”

“Hush, child,” Inya chided softly. Her old eyes looked back to Merlin. “I had to make a choice, and to this day it’s not one I’m proud of. Our numbers have dwindled rapidly the past few years as the disease grows in strength, our healing magic is no match for it.”

Celesta added quietly, “We started to do as he asked, if only to save ourselves from extinction.” Merlin looked over and resisted the urge to panic when he saw her eyes were watering. “But we’re not-we’re not strong enough! Like I told you, we’re a peaceful people and don’t believe in the violence he asked of us. When we finally tried to, we were hurt even more.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin’s voice came out crackly, his throat dry. “My father is no saint, but until recently I would have never thought…” He trailed off, but shook his head. “I believe you, and if there was anything I could do to help, I would. But I’m powerless-”

“No,” Inya argued softly. “You are not. Prophecies are often wrong, yes, but when one is frequently seen and repeated it’s validity is rarely doubted. The story of the great being Emrys, a title you carry, has been passed on for generations. It’s your destiny-”

“Stop it,” Merlin snapped suddenly. “I’m not a product of destiny, I’m just a hybrid half breed with a power I don’t understand and can’t control. I’ve lived with destiny hanging over me my my whole life, it doesn’t make me special, it just hurts the ones around me.”

He fell quiet as he realized what he’d said. Merlin pushed himself up from the floor, and gave the women a respectful bow.

“I’m sorry,” He said, truly meaning it, “But I don’t think I can help you.”

It didn’t take long for Celesta to hurry out after him, but Merlin did his best to ignore her. Based on the sun, if he left now he might be able to make it back to Camelot in the next day or so, provided he traveled through the night.

“Please, Emrys!” She exclaimed, right on the edge of the camp. No one else was around, everyone seemed to have retired to their tents. “We’ll do anything. Our people are renowned healers and teachers, we can show you how to unlock your potential-”

“Celesta,” Merlin stopped her. He was tired, sore, and ready to go back to the castle where his hoard of humans would be safe under his watchful eye. “Please believe when I say that if there was another way to help you I would do it, and I have no doubt you could make me stronger. But the thing that scares me the most is what I would become.”

“The prophecy calls you a savior-”

“At what cost? The loss of hundreds of thousands of lives? It doesn’t matter if they’re creatures of magic or not, I can’t take that risk.”

Celesta’s eyes were brimming with tears. “You don’t understand what I’m saying. You’re scared, I understand that because we all are! But you have a responsibility, whether you like it or not, to listen when destiny calls-”

“This,” Merlin snarled, “Is not my destiny. If I’m as powerful as you say, then it’s something I decide.”

And with that, Merlin made his way deeper into the forest and back home to Camelot.

----

Merlin was not eavesdropping.

He was just listening in to make sure Mordred didn't say anything suspicious.

Definitely not eavesdropping.

"And then Merlin got me a pie!" Mordred continued excitedly as he prattled on to Gwen who Merlin was sure had been humoring him all afternoon. Merlin shifted the basket of sheets he had propped precariously on his hip while he stood outside the laundry room. Gwen and Mordred, who had offered to help with chores, were already working on the table linens for the feast later that night. 

"It's too bad you can't come see the feast tonight," Gwen said kindly. "There's plenty of good food there, but I'm sure they'll save some for the servants down in the kitchens."

Mordred hummed. "Maybe if I ask Arthur..."

She laughed good-naturedly. "If he's as much of a pushover as he was the last time you bartered with him, I doubt you'll have any trouble." Merlin frowned.

The last time Mordred bartered with Arthur? Merlin hadn't been aware of any such thing, Mordred had only been in Camelot for a few days. To be fair though, Merlin had ducked out of Camelot for that time to get the necessary ingredients to create the protection charm for Morgana. It hadn't taken him as long as he'd expected, and he'd been glad because leaving Mordred alone in Camelot for so long had made him anxious.

He'd been in the process of making said charm when he heard birds chirping and realized he'd worked through the night. Needless to say, Merlin was exhausted.

"What have I missed?" He asked, finally deciding to actually enter the room instead of standing outside eavesdropping-er, listening in. "What's this about a barter with Arthur?"

Mordred grinned sheepishly as Gwen giggled.

"Can't tell you," Mordred insisted. "I promised him."

Merlin sighed. "Of course you did."

"I want to go to the feast tonight!" He explained, clearly still excited. "Gwen says there's all this fancy food and-"

"Absolutely not," Merlin said quickly, casting a nervous glance at Gwen. He was trying to signal for some support from her, but mostly she just looked confused. "I mean, it's probably not a good idea to go, you know, especially when you've only been here a few days." He gave Mordred a pointed look to try and remind him of the precarious situation they were in.

As it was, Merlin was a bit surprised no one had noticed anything off about his friend in the time he'd been in Camelot. When he left for his brief trip, he had impressed upon  Gaius and Mordred the importance of staying under the radar. Gaius had found this both amusing and ironic as normally he was the one lecturing Merlin on this topic. And as Gaius pointed out, Merlin often struggled with this the most.

The younger was pouting, trying to use his ridiculous puppy eyes to convince Merlin otherwise. Merlin,  however, stood resolute and shook his head.

"I'm sorry Mordred," He said honestly. "It's just too risky."

Gwen frowned. “Why would it be risky?”

Mordred’s human form had managed to stay stable without anything obvious popping up. A few times when the younger had gotten startled or too excited scales had started popping up on his arms and face, but Merlin had thankfully been able to get him out of sight before anyone saw. 

Mordred’s disguise was good, but it wasn’t perfect, and the last thing Merlin needed right now was Mordred shifting in front of Uther and the entire court. He wasn’t sure even that could be explained.

Merlin laughed nervously. “Well, uh-, you know how the nobles can be. They’re, uh-”

“Stuck up?” Morgana offered, walking into the laundry room. “Incredibly boring to talk to?”

“Lady Morgana-”

She knelt down next to Mordred, shaking her head in amusement. “Trust me, you don’t want to come to the feast tonight. The company is too boring to justify the food.”

“But I’ll be with you and Arthur!” Mordred protested.

She chuckled. “I’ll have the kitchens save us some food for after. We’ll have our own feast later, that way Gwen and Merlin can come eat with us too!”

Mordred pouted, but nodded anyway in agreement. Merlin disliked the calculating look that remained on his small face even as the conversation drifted towards other topics. Gwen eventually tugged Mordred away to help her with the chores and Merlin fell into step behind Morgana.

“So,” He started, “How have your nightmares been lately? Is the new potion working?”

Morgana smiled gratefully. “Yes, it is. I can’t tell you how nice it is to finally be able to sleep through the night. I haven’t felt this rested in years. Thank you, Merlin.”

“Of course!” Merlin tried to hide his self-satisfied grin, but he also couldn’t help but notice that Morgana was also wearing the bracelet he’d made. It’d been easy work handing it off to Mordred and convincing him to give it to Morgana. His puppy dog eyes when he explained how he’d made the gift himself worked wonders to make sure she kept wearing it.

Merlin was confident that the pendant would work until he could find Morgana a more long-term solution, like, say, actually teaching her about her magic. Gaius had been adamant against it, pointing out that it would put both her and Merlin in danger should anyone find out.

“Morgana can keep a secret!” Merlin had argued. “Gwen too!”

“No,” Gaius replied, putting his foot down. “I forbid it, and if I hear anything about you giving instruction to Morgana, there will be consequences.”

Merlin had already decided that he would find a way around his mentor, the question was how. Morgana deserved to know, it wasn’t fair to keep something so essential to her being away from her. One day, Merlin promised himself, Uther wouldn't be king. And one day, he’d be able to help his friend.

----

“Isabel!” Isabel turned as she heard her name being called. Merlin was jogging over to her, a basket of apples in hand. 

“Merlin,” She said, smiling warmly. “How are you?”

“What are these for?” He asked with no preamble, holding up the basket of apples. He’d awoken in the morning to find a basket of apples on the table in Gaius’ workroom with his name on them and a note thanking him. “They’re from you, right?”
    Isabel blushed but nodded. “I-yes, they are. How’d you know?”

“I have my ways,” Merlin said with a grin. He wasn’t about to tell her that he knew because the basket smelled like her, and that he had memorized the scents of all the servants. Because that would probably come off as strange and creepy, not respectful and protective like Merlin meant it. “Thanks,” He continued, but his expression made Isabel frown.

“Do you not like them? Were they bad-”

“I do like apples!” He added on quickly, “But uh, what are they for? I don’t-I mean, I didn’t pay for these, right?”

“Well,” for once Isabel was at a loss for words, staring at the ground. “I-They’re thanks for helping Felicity’s little sister for no charge, again. It means a lot to her, and she was beside herself that she couldn’t pay you back somehow, so I offered to deliver some apples to you for her.”

He smiled. “That wasn’t necessary. I didn’t do it to get something in return.” Merlin really hadn’t. As soon as he had figured out that Felicity's sister, Ann, was on Gaius’ route he had offered to take over her care. He may have also used some of his, er, special knowledge to devise a cure for her and had purposefully stopped by when Felicity wasn’t there so she wouldn’t do something silly like try to pay him. Ann had even been able to join in playing with the other children after a few months of treatment, and Mordred enjoyed having a playmate.

Isabel sighed. “Yes, but you know how Felicity is. So stupidly noble and nice and-” She blushed again. “I’m rambling again, sorry. The point is she was really grateful for your help and she wanted to say thank you but she didn’t have enough money to pay you back or get a gift.”

Merlin’s heart melted. Humans were just so...well, there wasn’t a word for it, but it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside like he wanted to smother them with affection. He supposed the word he was looking for was cute, how they were so caring and did their best to look out for one another. Of course there were cruel exceptions, like Uther, but most of the ones that Merlin met were nice, like Isabel and Felicity, and he wanted to help them somehow.

“How is Ann doing?” Merlin asked, curious to see if his totally-not-magical treatment had helped Felicity’s sister. It had been a risk, of course, but there wasn’t much else left that regular medicine could do. If he was careful and kept administering small doses to her, Ann was becoming completely healthy slowly over time, therefore avoiding any suspicion of magical treatment.

“She’s doing well! Felicity says she hasn’t stopped talking about you, and yesterday she felt well enough to leave bed and play with some of the other children.”

“I’m ever so grateful, Merlin,” A soft voice said. Isabel and Merlin turned to find Felicity standing next to them after she had approached silently. “I can’t tell you how much it means to us that you helped her. I promise as soon as I get my pay this month I can give you money for the treatment but-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Merlin said, an easy grin playing across his face. Sure, he liked shiny things, but it was just so nice and wonderful that she was so willing to do anything to help her sister that he couldn’t bring himself to accept the meager salary she earned. “I didn’t do it for money, I did it to help a sick pup.”

“Pup?” Isabel asked, confused. Merlin, realizing his mistake, blushed.

“K-kid, I meant,” He said, stammering over his words. “You see in the country sometimes we call kids pups it’s like-”

“It’s fine, Merlin,” Felicity said with a laugh, patting his arm. “Thank you so much for helping her. I haven’t seen her smile like that in a long time.”

Merlin’s blush got stronger at the attention and gratitude. “It was nothing,” He said, already making a mental note to make sure he finished making the rest of the cure to ensure Ann would make a full recovery. “I’ll stop by in a bit to give her some more medicine. I think I might be able to get rid of all her symptoms for a long while.”

Felicity’s eyes were shining as she launched herself into hugging Merlin. Startled, it took Merlin a minute to return the hug. Over Felicity’s shoulder he could see Isabel staring at Felicity like she was the most important thing in the world. There was a certain light and devotion in her eyes, like she would do absolutely anything to see her happy, and that she was the only thing that could ever matter.

Oh, Merlin thought. This could be interesting.

Dragons, specifically Merlin, are always a sucker for stories. Especially stories about love. And it was clear to Merlin, and probably anyone with eyes, that Isabel was head over heels for Felicity. He was surprised he hadn’t noticed it sooner. If he thought back he could remember Felicity’s soft and affectionate glances and expressions directed towards Isabel when she thought no one was looking. Oh, he thought, this will be fun.

Felicity stepped away, blushing again. “I have to go run some errands for my mistress now, but please, enjoy the apples.” She turned to Isabel, her lip twitching up into a smile. “I’ll see you later?” She asked.

Isabel nodded, a dopey smile on her face. “Y-yeah,” She said, suddenly seeming shy. “Later.”

Felicity grinned and bounded away after giving her a quick peck on the cheek. Isabel’s face was a bright red and she was staring after her with a dazed expression.

“So,” Merlin drawled. “You and Felicity, huh?”
    “What?” Isabel asked, suddenly drawn from her distraction. “I-I’m not-I don’t-”

He laughed. “It’s cute. How long have you guys been together?”

Her jaw dropped. “We’re not together!” She squeaked out. Merlin frowned. His understanding of human relationships, while still not perfect, had gotten much more extensive. He was positive they acted like the typical human couple he had often seen.

“Yeah, but you want to be, right?”

Merlin didn’t know it was possible for humans’ faces to get so red.

“I-I do-but I’m not-we can’t-”

“Why not?”
    She sighed. “Among other things, I...I don’t think she likes me, you know, like that.”

“You’re joking.” Merlin said incredulously. “She looks at you the exact same way you look at her when she thinks no one is looking.”

Isabel looked at him skeptically. From What Merlin had gathered Felicity and Isabel had always been close friends. He didn’t know the exact details of their relationship though, and after seeing that look on Isabel’s face had just assumed they’d been discrete about courting.

“I have known Felicity since we were infants. And I-she had never expressed interest in women...like that. But I-I have always thought she was just so kind and beautiful and perfect, but she’s not...” She dragged a hand over her face and groaned. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, Merlin. You just seem so, so trustworthy.”

Merlin smiled encouragingly. “Oh really? Why’s that?”

“You’re just so-” Isabel waved a hand in his general direction. “You know, honest with everything. You don’t mince your words, you don’t try to suck up to other nobles, and you never try to sabotage the other servants to look good in front of others. You genuinely care about the people here in Camelot, and you’re always willing to help. It’s refreshing, you know?”

He tilted his head, trying to comprehend what she was saying. He hadn’t really thought that there’d been anything out of the ordinary with how he acted. Sure, it was definitely different than how he would act at home, but humans were just so interesting that he had found himself enveloped into their lives and excited to befriend them. He wasn’t entirely honest either. It felt like every day he had to come up with a new lie just to stay safe. The conversation he’d had earlier with Gaius came to mind, and his good mood began to fade.

“Thank you,” Merlin said, finally realizing that Isabel was giving him a strange look as he took too long to answer. “I try.”

She laughed, tugging him along to walk with her through their chores. Along with Gwen, he had made many friends since he had come to Camelot. Isabel had an adventurous spirit, and was always good at making the other servants laugh no matter how bad their days had been. Merlin admired her, and he’d been driven as ever to learn more about her to sate his curiosity. 

Her relationship with Felicity had also sparked some questions. They were so close, and Merlin believed Isabel when she said they had grown up together. Isabel and Felicity were always sharing quiet glances, not even needing to speak to communicate. When they did talk, however, Felicity stayed quiet with a pleased smile on her face while Isabel chattered on about whatever new gossip or story she had heard. They seemed like they were in perfect sync together, and if Merlin was honest with himself he felt jealous of their bond. He couldn’t remember what it felt like to be that close with someone, who’s own existence could just make him happy.

“You need to court Felicity,” Merlin blurted out, nearly startling Isabel into dropping the water jug as she filled it from the well. “You can’t waste anymore time, alright?” Humans were not known for their long lifespans, Merlin thought. If she liked this girl, then she should do something about it!

“Merlin,” Isabel looked tired. “I want to, I really do, but...I don’t know. I just don’t know how to ask her, and I couldn’t bear it if it hurt our friendship in any way. I’m happy with what we have now, just being her friend is good enough for me.”

Merlin frowned. “But I don’t understand. You like Felicity, and Felicity likes you. You’re perfect for each other!”

“Merlin-” She looked doubtful, but Merlin was beginning to see some hope on her face. 

“You really think so?” She asked quietly, picking up the other jug and handing it to Merlin as they began to walk back to the castle.

“‘Course I do. Like you said, I’m always honest.”

----

"Merlin!" Arthur snapped. The servant in question looked up to glare at the prince. "Are you even listening to me?"

He snorted. "Of course not. Don't be daft."

"Right," the prince muttered. "Of course, it's too much to ask you to pay attention to me when I’m talking to you. What I was trying to say was that I don't care who you...dally with, but you need to keep your personal life from affecting your professional one."

Finally Merlin looked up from his current task. "Excuse me?"

Now Arthur was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He tried to convince himself it was because they were talking about topics princes weren't supposed to talk about (but that wasn't the case, because his knights were some of the lewdest people he'd met) and not because he was jealous of whoever Merlin was seeing. If Merlin was seeing someone else then that meant his already hare-brained servant would have even less time and brain power to devote to serving Arthur, and Arthur just couldn’t have that. He waved his hand. "You know, the special...person that you've been seeing?"

He shook his head. "No, sire, I do not know. Remind me again, who have I been seeing?"

"The serving girl. The one that you kept sharing glances with. I know you're sad about her leaving, but that's no excuse to neglect your chores and leave my chambers in such disarray!"

At this Merlin threw his head back and laughed.

“Merlin!” Arthur reprimanded. Honestly, this was getting ridiculous now. He couldn’t even have some basic respect from his own servant!

Merlin was doubled over now and seemed to be choking on his own tongue. “What are you implying, sire?” He asked between broken laughs.

“You know,” Arthur muttered, because now he was beginning to feel unsure. “The dark haired one that’s always talking? She’s always touching you and tugging on your scarf to get your attention. Surely you’re...courting?”

“You mean Isabel?”

“Is that who she is?” Arthur asked, feigning disinterest as he turned away to hide the blush on his cheeks. This wasn’t how he’d wanted this conversation to go, and instead of ribbing Merlin for losing his head over some girl it felt like Merlin was the one making fun of him. “I can’t be expected to know every servant’s name.”

“Arthur,” Merlin started, still giggling and looking like he would burst into raucous laughter again. “She’s my friend, you clotpole. Isabel has her eyes elsewhere, so I’m helping her. Obviously.”

“Is that so?” Arthur did his best to tell himself that he was above the idle gossip of the servants but a part of him desperately wanted to ensure that Merlin wouldn’t be leaving his position as his manservant to run off with a girl any time soon. Obviously it was because he’d made it his mission to make Merlin into a proper manservant, and Arthur didn’t quit any job halfway through. 

As the crown prince and future king it would also do well to know the thoughts and lives of his people if he wanted to rule Camelot well.

Merlin sighed. “I’ve been trying to get her to confess her feelings for ages now, she likes another servant, you see, but they’re both too oblivious so I have to do all the work.”
    Arthur nodded sagely. He had no idea what else to say so he didn’t object when Merlin changed the subject to complain about the cook being stingy with honey buns when he had gone to get food for himself and Gaius. He made a mental note to send a request later to the cook for some extra honey buns to be sent up to his chamber. Merlin could hardly be expected to be a good manservant if he was going hungry. Really, it was all for Arthur’s own benefit, nothing else.

Later, after Merlin had left and claimed he had to go see Gaius to gather herbs, Arthur went to go see Gwen.

“Arthur!” She exclaimed, apparently surprised to see the prince in the laundry room. It was empty except for Gwen who was cleaning one of Morgana’s dresses.

“I need to talk to you about something.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Is everything alright, sire?”

Arthur sighed, dragging a hand over his face. “I need to ask you about a few of the servants.”

Gwen nodded slowly. “Okay?”

“What do you know about Merlin and Isabel?” He blurted out. 

She frowned. “Isabel? From the kitchens?”

Arthur shifted his feet in discomfort. “If that’s where she works, then yes. She’s the one who’s...friends with Merlin.”

“Yes, they’re friends I suppose. What was it that you wanted me to tell you, though?”

“Are...are they courting?” Arthur didn’t like how his chest felt tight and the words caught in his throat. He saw Gwen’s confused expression and rushed to explain himself. “He’s been distracted. Since she left, I mean. He said they were-well, I’m actually not really sure what he said, but the point is that I can’t have my manservant incapacitated every time his crush goes away for a few days.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re just friends,” Gwen said, a small smirk making its way onto her face. “Have you by chance spoken to Morgana recently?”

Arthur was confused at the rather abrupt change of subject but nodded anyway. “Yes, a short while ago, actually.”

“What did she say?”

“About what?”

Gwen shook her head, the small smirk growing into a grin she struggled to hide. “Oh, it’s nothing sire. I’d thought she might have mentioned...no, never mind, you’ll have to figure it out yourself.”

“Figure out what?” Arthur wondered aloud, but Gwen was already walking away. Merlin was a bad influence on everyone, he thought. First him, then Gwen. What was the castle coming to?

----

    “How much longer?” Merlin all but whined to Gwen. 

    Gwen let out a long suffering sigh. “We just got here, and we both know that nothing really starts until the king and prince get here.” 

He was tired, his feet hurt, and Arthur had yet to show up. This meant he was standing off to the side of the room and at the beck and call of any noble wandering by. Not only did this mean he had to actually work instead of sharing a stream of commentary with Arthur, but he also couldn’t listen in on any of the gossip. 

“I just want to go back to my room and sleep,” He muttered. “How long do you think they’ll keep us here till?” Gwen shrugged.

The sound of a trumpet interrupted them, and everyone turned to look at the doorway coming into the hall.

Arthur and the king entered, flanked by the customary soldiers as they made their way to the proper seats at the head of the table. None of this was out of the ordinary.

The small boy trailing after the prince, however, was.

Gwen noticed too. “Is that…Mordred?”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Merlin swore. “I told him-”

She interrupted him by laying a hand on his arm. “Merlin, relax. I’m sure it will be fine if Arthur was the one to bring him.”

He continued to burn holes into the boy with his stare, but managed to keep the irritated growl caught in his throat. Gwen gave him a strange look, and he fought to give her a convincing smile.

It didn’t work.

“I should probably go over there,” He muttered, carefully assessing the curious glances the other servants sent towards Mordred, who stood behind Arthur with a pitcher of wine identical to Merlin’s. 

Making his way over, Merlin politely dodged multiple nobles attempting to flag him down for a refill (something that had become an art for him). Mordred blinked serenely up at him when Merlin’s hand fell on his shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” Merlin hissed, but before the younger could answer Arthur had turned in his seat.

“Merlin,” He drawled, “So glad you finally showed up. I had to coerce poor Mordred into service for the night.” The expression on Mordred’s face did not look like it belonged to someone who had to be cajoled into working.

Merlin glared at him. “I’ve been here the entire time. I was waiting for you-”

“Well you weren’t waiting in my chambers,” Arthur sniffed, “And you have a habit of disappearing whenever I need your services. Now that you’re actually here, I suppose you can find your position-”

“-I never lost it!”

“-and Mordred here can enjoy tonight’s feast, as a reward for my last minute request.”

Merlin resisted the urge to cuff both Arthur and Mordred as he watched the young boy scamper away into the crowd. There were other noble children at these feasts, so he would have company, but that almost worried Merlin more. Arthur wasn’t helping either, just waving his hand for Merlin to refill his goblet and chatting with the nearby nobles.

He spent the night distractedly bringing Arthur his requested dishes while searching the room for Mordred. His heart was pounding in his chest the entire time, barely calming whenever he caught flashes of Mordred in the throngs of people. Somehow he’d managed to find a set of clothes fit for nobility that were only a tad too large for him, and Merlin would bet money Arthur was responsible.

“Why would you bring him to this?” Merlin hissed in Arthur’s ear when his other conversations ended and got up to dance. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Arthur glanced up at him, his expression more open from the wine. He chuckled to himself, then went back to swirling the wine in his cup. “We made a deal. He’s a good negotiator, you know. Would make a good ambassador when he’s older.” Merlin frowned at him, trying to understand the meaning of anything he said.

“A deal? What do you mean?”

The prince waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing serious, don’t worry. I think he’s just been bored cooped up with Gwen and Morgana if he’s not stuck with you and Gaiius. I thought he’d enjoy the feast tonight.”

“He’s not noble, Arthur,” Merlin’s voice sounded funny as he tried to speak over the music and chatter in the room. “He’s just a child.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I know that, Merlin. I’m just saying, he could get a job in the castle easily. I could see him rising through the ranks, he’s clever enough. He says he likes it here-”

“I know.”

Arthur cocked his head to look at Merlin’s eyes. “Of course you do. Why do you seem so sad about it, then?”

He sighed. “Because. I’ve watched him grow up, and I didn’t realize how unhappy he was until he had to flee with me from his home to…Anyways, I think he likes Camelot much better than he did up North even if it’s not as safe.”

“Camelot is very safe,” Arthur argued, “Our knights are first rate!”

“Sure.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow in challenge. “You don’t believe me?”

“Of course they are,” Merlin was smiling now in spite of himself. “Mordred is very important to me, you understand. Should anything happen to him I’ll hold you personally accountable.”

Arthur laughed at his words, drawing a few stares from others around the table. “And what would you even do to me, hm?”

Merlin will forever blame the loud room, the teasing atmosphere, and Arthur’s own taunting as an excuse. Leaning in close to Arthur’s ear, he whispered, “Whatever I please, sire.”

Watching Arthur’s face turn crimson was an enjoyable experience, but Merlin knew he had to shuffle back to his assigned spot. The evening wore on, and slowly the crowd dwindled. When Uther raised his hand to signal his own dismissal, Arthur rose as well. Dutiful as ever, Merlin followed the prince out of the hall, but made a questioning noise when Arthur did not turn in the direction of his chambers.

“Now what?” He asked, padding softly after him. Arthur was humming to himself, cheeks lightly flushed from the wine.

“We need to talk.”

The prince said nothing else, and soon enough Merlin realized they were going to the battlements. Leaning against the stone of the wall, Arthur stared up into the night sky.

“Remember when Lord Harvey fell into that pile of horse manure?” 

Merlin blinked. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting Arthur to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. Either way, he chuckled to himself.

“I heard about it,” Merlin replied innocently. “It was all anyone talked about in the servants’ quarters for a month.”

Arthur smiled, clearly also amused. “I’ll admit, I didn’t find it funny until afterwards. Watching him spit horse shit was the highlight of his whole visit.” Merlin grinned back at him, happy to bask in the moonlight with his friend.

“I wonder how long it took the prankster to shovel out the entire stable into that one pile,” Arthur mused. Merlin’s breath caught in his throat when he noticed Arthur’s pointed look. “It’s a lot of effort for a servant who hates working.”

Merlin fumbled for an answer, but his stammered response only made him laugh.

“Relax, I won’t punish you. At the time I even considered thanking you.”

At that Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Who are you and what have you done with the prince?” After a pause, his eyes narrowed. “Hang on, how drunk are you?”

Arthur squinted at his manservant’s face, before giving up and slouching further down on the wall. He replied, “Drunk enough. The wine was good tonight.”

Merlin groaned, sliding a hand down his face. “Dammit, Mordred. I didn’t even think to check if he’d watered down the wine any-”

“S’fine,” Arthur slurred. “I don’t mind.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re lucky there aren’t any early meetings tomorrow, or I’m sure you will.”

Arthur mumbled something to himself, but continued to look up at the stars in the sky. “I wanted to ask you, about him.”

“Who?”

“Mordred.”

Merlin frowned. “Why? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Arthur was quick to protest. “It’s just…he’s your cousin?”

Humming in agreement, Merlin replied, “Yes, a distant one. But the clan is important in…in the North. When no one else would take care of him, I knew I couldn’t leave him alone.”

“You’re close?”

“We grew up together,” Merlin said fondly. “He was young when we met, but I guess he became like a little brother? His parents were gone so he followed me around, always trying to do what I was doing.”

“But you…trust him? He’s good?”

“As good as any child can be, of course.”

Arthur nodded, and Merlin recognized the expression on his face. The prince had just made up his mind on something troubling him.

“What is it?”

“Mordred has magic, doesn’t he.”

----

    The pleasant haze of wine in Arthur’s mind meant it took him a second to notice the sudden shift in atmosphere. Merlin’s eyes were wide with fear, something Arthur wasn’t sure he’d ever seen on his manservant, who looked ready to bolt.

    It wasn’t a question. Arthur knew there was something off about the strange boy Merlin had brought, and his suspicions were confirmed when the boy arrived in his chambers before the feast. The excited glint in his eye had reminded Arthur of his own childhood. In his enthusiasm to both mess with and hopefully impress Merlin, his hand carelessly knocked over the inkwell on his desk. 

What could have ruined hours of work was saved when the boy shot out his hand. Arthur had watched in shock as Mordred’s eyes glowed gold for a second before the inkwell righted itself and the shine faded. It probably would have gone unnoticed if Arthur wasn’t looking right at him.

He had been willing to play it off as a trick of the light, but when Mordred had been changing into the clothes Arthur sent for other things caught his attention. Small, flaky bits of skin that shone on closer inspection revealed themselves to be scales. The boy’s ears were pointier than anyone Arthur had ever seen, and his excited hands as they tugged on his sleeves caught on the fabric as too long and too sharp nails scraped the thread. Most noticeable of all, though, were the tiny, cream colored horns peaking through his mop of curly hair. 

Arthur would never admit to anyone how quickly he decided to keep Mordred’s secret. His father had taught him at a young age all the ways magic could manifest, and the boy ticked every box. By every right, Arthur should have apprehended him immediately and started gathering wood for the dawn pyre.

But he hadn’t.

“You can’t hurt him!” Merlin finally got out while Arthur watched with alarm as his manservant looked suspiciously close to tears. “I-I won’t let you!”

“Merlin-”
    “No!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands down. “He-he’s not magic, he’s a normal-he’s just a little- he’s a child!”

“I know.”

“Arthur,” Merlin’s voice broke, “Please. I’ll do anything. You can’t touch-”

“S’okay,” Arthur said firmly, closing his eyes to bask in the warm night air. “You’re right, he’s a good kid. Won’t tell anyone.”

Merlin was silent for a few beats.

“W-what?”

Blearily opening his eyes, Arthur stared at him. “I don’t want to kill a child,” He said slowly. “I would never.”

“So you won’t…”

“I’ll play dumb until you can get him somewhere safe, Merlin. Just try and do it soon? It’s-Camelot isn’t safe, not for him.” Arthur watched Merlin’s forehead crinkle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. “Mordred wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I know. It’s not safe for him, surely you know that? I don’t understand why you would even bring him here.”

Merlin’s slumped shoulders made Arthur feel even worse. “I didn’t have a choice,” He mumbled.

“I hate it,” Arthur said, breaking the silence that stretched on.

Merlin looked at him carefully. “Hate what?” He asked, staring at the prince as he picked at a patch of dirt on the stone.

“My father’s laws against magic. The pyre, the hangings, the arrests. All of it.”

“I know.” And the strange thing was, he did know. He’d spent enough time with Arthur to know that he hated being forced to stand next to his father while innocent people were murdered. Somehow he could tell by the way Arthur’s fingers clenched into a fist and was accompanied by the slight hitch in his breath. Merlin knew that the stiffness in Arthur’s features didn’t go away for days after the deaths of the innocent. 

Arthur took a deep breath. “I hate standing there, not able to do anything. I hate standing there, feeling like somehow I’m causing it.”
    Merlin said quietly, “You’re not.”

He sighed. “Maybe I am. Maybe I should be doing more to stop it. I always feel like if I tried harder to convince my father, or convinced the other knights to turn a blind eye to the magic or-”

“It’s okay.” Merlin didn’t seem to know what else to say, for the first time in his life Arthur thought. His mouth opened and closed a few times, seemingly unable to find the words.

“It’s not okay,” Arthur murmured, dragging his finger through the dirt in circles. “I’m sick of just sitting around doing nothing. I feel like a coward. I need to do something to help, and waiting until my father is gone and I’m king isn’t enough.”
    Merlin looked at him thoughtfully. “What would you change as king?” He asked, and Arthur almost smiled when he heard the hopefulness in his voice.

Arthur snorted. “Everything. I love Camelot, it’s my home and I love it, but there are so many problems my father ignores. He refuses to hear any of my ideas for improvement, and each day I have to stand by and watch as if nothing is wrong.”

“But what will you do first?”
    Arthur didn’t even hesitate to answer. “Repeal the ban on magic. Release a formal apology to all those who lost family and friends to it. Make peace with the druids, probably even form a treaty. And that’s just the start.”

“Really?”

He gave him a funny look. “Yes, of course. Why, you think I would do things differently?”
    Merlin nearly shook his head, trying his hardest to hide his smile. The two lapsed into comfortable silence once more. Lightning bugs flickered in the darkness, and in the forest an owl hooted.

“I’ll be with you,” Merlin finally said.

“Pardon?”
    “I’ll be with you,” he repeated, turning to look Arthur in the eyes so he knew he was serious. “No matter what, I promise. I’ll stay by your side the rest of the way.”

He was quiet for a moment, before he finally whispered, “Thank you.”

Chapter Text

“I didn’t say anything!” Mordred protested, hands wringing the cleaning rag in front of him. “I promise!”

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ward off the oncoming headache. It was late and they were both tired, but this needed to be done. “It’s not what you said, it’s what you did . I should have-”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“He promised not to say anything,” Merlin exhaled, still unsure if he could believe it. The prince had been drunk last night, and he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t find his words alluring. The promise of a better king and a better Camelot made his heart ache after the past few months, but his head insisted those feelings could not be trusted. “But you have to go, as soon as possible.”

“What?” The look of betrayal on his small face made his heart hurt. Mordred’s eyes blazed bright as he stomped his foot. Merlin took an involuntary step back as the smell of sulfur and burning hit his nose, and he eyed the sparks forming around the younger’s hands warily. “I don’t want to,” He growled.

“Mordred,” Merlin fought to keep his voice even, “You need to calm down, or your form will slip. That cannot happen here.”

Dragonet tantrums tended to be quite literally explosive. Plenty of flammable items would go up in smoke within seconds in Merlin’s tiny quarters, not to mention that a dragon, even one as small as Mordred, wouldn’t fit. He needed to de-escalate this, and fast. 

The younger’s skin had started forming scales, and the flesh underneath was bright red. “I’m not leaving you! You promised I could stay with you!”

“I never promised anything,” Merlin hissed through gritted teeth. His temper was getting the better of him, he realized, as a puff of smoke came out with his breath. Merlin’s skin itched to slip its human form to reveal scales and wings. The last thing the castle needed was not one but two pissed off dragons appearing within its walls. “We both need to relax. I will figure something out, but in the meantime I don’t want you to leave the apothecary.”

Mordred’s brow furrowed. “What? You want me to be stuck in here all day? There’s nothing to do! What about Gwen and Morgana and-”

“Gaius will need help with things,” He replied firmly. Closing his eyes, he crouched down to Mordred’s height. If he wanted to smooth this over, he had to play his cards right. “Gaius is old,” He explained gently, “And when humans get older they need extra help with things, and I think you’d be really good at it.”

The young dragons frown lessened slightly, but he was still pouting. “So? Aren’t you the physician’s assistant?” Merlin winced.

“Yes, but…Arthur needs me for some things, and I’m worried I’ll be too busy to help Gaius. Can you keep an eye out for him? For me?”

Mordred let out a small huff, the small cloud of smoke not going unnoticed by Merlin, but he nodded anyway. Just as Merlin was about to slip out the door though, a small spark ignited in his eyes. “What’s in it for me?”

----

In the end, Mordred’s terms had involved no shortage of sweets being brought to the apothecary and the promise of shifting in the woods later that week. While irritating, Merlin agreed that nabbing pastries from the cook wasn’t too bad, but the prospect of shifting with Mordred so close to Camelot on such thin ice worried him.

Arthur had been properly hungover the next morning, just as Merlin predicted. Too scared to prompt further investigation on Mordred, he steered entirely clear of their previous conversation. Instead, Merlin stuck to teasing him for being such a lightweight.

“You hardly had anything,” He snorted, watching as Arthur groaned and flopped onto his stomach dramatically when he gleefully yanked the curtains open. “ And I was nice letting you sleep in today.”

“You’re never nice,” The prince grumbled into his pillow. Merlin snorted.
“What was that I heard? ‘Oh Merlin, you’re ever so kind and gracious! Oh Merlin, you’re the best manservant ever-’”

He ducked to avoid the pillow chucked in his general direction, chuckling when it missed by a good yard. “I like you hungover. Your aim is much worse.”

Arthur growled. “One more word out of you and I’ll send you to the stocks.”

“See? Even your threats are lacking. Normally you’re much more creative.”

The day continued on without much trouble. There was a small fire in the kitchens when Merlin just so happened to be walking by with a bucket of water, or rather a bucket that suddenly had water in it just when needed. The horses were groomed and cared for, something that Merlin didn’t enjoy. They seemed to sense that he wasn’t a pale skinny human but instead a much larger fire breathing creature. Needless to say, it made grooming and cleaning out the stalls much more difficult than it needed to be.

After a long day of work, Merlin was ready to eat and sleep. Those plans were quickly dashed, however, only minutes after sitting down.

“Guinevere stopped by,” Gaius said, sliding a meager portion of soup in front of him. “An unexpected guest of the king arrived this afternoon, you’re needed to serve at the feast.”

“Another one?” Merlin whined, not caring how childish he sounded. “All these humans We had one last night, and the night before, and the night before that-”

“She said to hurry over in uniform as soon as you were back,” The elderly physician interrupted his whining. “I’d get changed if I were you.”

With a groan, Merlin pushed his uneaten soup away as he stood. “Fine. Was Mordred at least helpful today?” Gaius looked confused.

“I don’t know,” He answered, turning back to his work. “You would have to ask Guinevere, I imagine he spent the day with her.”

“What? He was supposed to stay here with you- Why didn’t you stop him?” 

“I’m not a nanny,” Gaius snapped, “I’m the royal physician, in case you’d forgotten. Forgive me for doing my actual duties and not the role of babysitter you’ve taken on-”

He huffed, quickly waving his hand to dissipate the smoke that had come out. “Alright, I get it. I’ll go get ready.”

As he’d said, the night went on in much the usual fashion. Merlin was stuck in an itchy and stiff uniform by Arthur’s side while he and his father chatted amicably with the visiting dignitaries. The scent of delicacies fit only for royalty wafted up towards the table, and Merlin heard his stomach growl. He never would have guessed that there’d be a time when he preferred the humans’ oddly cooked meat over a raw kill, but here he was, drooling over a roasted pig seasoned to perfection.

Arthur motioned for more wine, and as he leaned in, the prince grabbed his arm.

Merlin raised an eyebrow at the prince, who seemed to have forgotten what he was going to say. “How’s Mordred?” He finally settled on, and Merlin felt the familiar squeeze of apprehension along his spine.

He replied stiffly, “He’s fine.” Darting an anxious look towards the king, who was chatting away with their guest and looked drunk enough to not remember much. Something felt off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Arthur hummed. “Good.” Merlin shook his head as he stepped back to his spot. He noticed Gwen walking by, and flagged her down under the pretense of refilling his jug.

“Good evening, Merlin, does Arthur-”

“Have you seen Mordred?” He interrupted, peering around her as if the mischievous dragonet would appear out of her skirts. “He was supposed to help Gaius earlier.”

“Helping Morgana, I believe. She saw him yesterday helping Arthur and decided to give me the night off, not that the kitchens saw fit to honor that.” Gwen gestured to the armful of plates. “Why? Something wrong?”

“No,” he lied, though the rising anxiety had him scanning the crowd. “Just a feeling, that’s all.”

She laughed. “Alright then, I’ll keep an eye out. In the meantime, you ought to get back to Arthur, he looks lonely without you.”

Her skirts swished away before he could ask her what exactly she meant by that, but a glance over revealed that the prince was staring at him. Merlin couldn’t pinpoint it, but the prince didn’t look happy.

“Now what’s wrong, sire?” He asked with a weary sigh, now back at his post. “Is the food too rich?”

“Nothing wrong,” Arthur answered quickly. He cleared his throat. “Is everything alright? You seemed worried, talking with Guinevere-”

A loud scream cut him off, and both of their heads jerked up to find the source. The music stopped when the first shouts rang out, and within seconds the knights were out of their seats with their hands on their weapons. Without even thinking Merlin was tugging Arthur out of his seat and had started to shove him towards the closest exit.

“Where’s Mordred?” Arthur demanded, trying to shake him off. Adrenaline spiked through Merlin when he realized the young boy was missing, and a sick feeling sunk in his stomach when he noticed the familiar tingle of magic in the air.
Merlin swore under his breath, not even caring that it was Drakine and he’d forgotten to curse in English. Leaving Arthur to fend for himself, he pushed through the crowd to the cluster of horrified nobles. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do when he got there, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to see Morgana standing with an expression of pure terror next to an intricately carved statue Merlin had never seen before.

Gwen was clutching Morgana’s arm as she tried to pull her away into the growing crowd around them, and he shared a look of fear with her before searching for Mordred. The boy wasn’t anywhere near the vicinity, which was good. Aside from the fact that he killed someone, there’d be the matter of keeping it a secret-

A shiver went down his spine when he heard the first few whispers from the crowd about a sorcerer. The whispers quickly became shouts then screams, and all hell broke loose.

Merlin lost sight of Morgana, and just had to hope they’d made it out safely. There was a stampede of drunk party goers trying to make their way out of the doors, and no amount of shouts from Uther and his knights could control them. He was shoved about, and narrowly avoided being pushed to the floor. When Merlin finally caught sight of Arthur firmly holding Mordred’s shoulder, he felt like crying with relief.

He grabbed one of their hands in each of his, and all but dragged them out through the servant’s passage. Merlin didn’t stop for words or breath the entire time he hurried them to Arthur’s chambers. The deadbolt fell heavy across the door, and Merlin began to pace anxiously in front of it. His eyes kept glancing nervously at the windows, irrationally worried that something might come through them.

“What the hell was that?” Arthur finally asked, fingers drumming the hilt of his sword. It was ceremonious, Merlin thought absently, and wouldn’t be much good in a fight. Arthur wasn’t protected, he wasn’t safe, he needed a real sword-

“Merlin!” Arthur demanded again. “What happened? You were the only one to get close enough-”

“I don’t know,” He muttered, glaring at his hands. Merlin didn’t know the noble, not that he’d spent long inspecting the statue. He didn’t want to say anything to incriminate Mordred, but he wanted so desperately to shake him by the shoulders and demand what he had done.

“Someone said it was a sorcerer,” Mordred piped up helpfully, and Merlin sent him a withering look to shut up. His frown turned to a grimace as he watched Arthur’s face shutter into something harder.

Arthur was already moving to the door as Merlin lunged to stop him. “I need to get out there,” He started. “You and Mordred stay in here where it’s safe-”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Merlin snapped, gripping Arthur’s forearm tightly. Too tight, he realized, yanking his hand away when he realized his nails had started to grow into claws from his agitation. “We don’t know what just happened, it’s not safe-”

“I’m the prince! It’s my duty to-”

A heavy knock stopped him mid sentence, and Merlin recognized the knight’s voice.

“Sire?” Leon called out, “Are you in there?”

“Yes,” Arthur replied, before Merlin could stop him with a hand over his mouth. Merlin made sure the growl that escaped from his chest was quiet as Arthur unlocked and opened the door into the hallway. “What’s happening?”

“Your father wants to see you in his office. We’re to start searching for the sorcerer responsible for the murder.”

Merlin was frozen to the spot as Arthur hurried down the hall without so much as a goodbye. The second the door shut, he whirled on Mordred.

“What were you thinking?” He snarled. The worry, frustration, and anger has finally reached the surface. His growing fangs made it harder to speak, and trying to focus on the pain of claws digging into his palms didn’t help either. “What if you were seen? What would you have done then? Do you have any idea how stupid -”

“I didn’t do anything!” Mordred protested, scrambling backwards. “I was on the other side of the room with the human children! You can ask Arthur- he’s the one who found me!”

Merlin was shaking, and he turned around to try and catch his breath.

“You didn’t…that wasn’t you?”

“Promise. I didn’t even see what happened.”

But Merlin had, and so had-

Morgana. Morgana had been standing mere feet away from him, and maybe the terrified look on her face hadn’t just been from the grisly sight in front of her. Gwen was smart, Gwen was trying to pull her away, maybe because Gwen realized that-

Suddenly exhausted, he collapsed into Arthur’s arm chair. Rubbing a hand over his eyes Merlin contemplated when his life had gotten so damn complicated.

Mordred let out a small, worried chirp.

“Sorry,” Merlin mumbled, “I didn’t mean to yell. I was just…scared.”

“It’s okay.” 

Shaking his head, he stood up again. “I have to go see a friend of mine. You need to stay here, if someone comes in-” Merlin glanced around, “-hide in the wardrobe, I guess. You should be safe here.”

“But-”

“Stay. Put. I mean it, Mordred.”

Merlin hurried out of the room once Mordred promised to listen, and began to consider how he would ask for the help of druids he had just rejected.

----

Arthur was worried, of course. A man getting turned to stone at a feast in your castle would do that to a man, especially when that attacker was obviously a sorceror. His father was already calling for a hunt, and he was confident that the issue would be resolved quickly.

What worried him the most, though, was Merlin, and by extension Mordred. Arthur wasn’t sure he understood why Merlin was so upset that Mordred was at the feast. There wasn’t anything wrong with it, children often accompanied their parents to these events and Arthur hadn’t minded sending a servant to find an old set of his clothes to fit Mordred. The boy had been excited for the party, and Arthur could at least admit to himself that he wanted Merlin’s cousin to like him.

Arthur would never forget the absolute panic on Merlin’s face as he tore through the crowd for Mordred. He was like a man possessed when he dragged the Prince and his cousin up to the royal chambers. Arthur had never seen Merlin shut and lock a door so quickly, and his nervous look when Arthur tried to leave was out of character.

“Is Merlin scared of magic?” Arthur wondered aloud, looking to Leon for an answer. Lancelot on his other side had a small coughing fit, that Arthur thumped him on the back for while he waited for Leon to respond.

“Er-sorry? I’m not sure I know, sire,” Leon replied, checking the name of the courtier leaving off his list. Uther had demanded anyone coming in or out of the castle was to be recorded and checked. Knights had already been sent to the servant’s quarters for interrogation. No stone could be left unturned, he said. Arthur was grateful that Merlin and Mordred were safe in his chambers. There was no need to involve them in this panic.

He hummed to himself, nodding to a familiar face as their name was checked and they left for their carriage. “It’s just, I didn’t peg him as a nervous type.”

“Everyone’s shaken, sire,” Lancelot added from his side. “It was unexpected.”

“No one expects an assassination at something like this. Especially not the one of a minor noble.” Arthur hadn’t known the man well, but the one killed was a low level noble visiting from the borders. 

Lancelot grimaced. “Technically, we don’t know if it’s an assassination. He could be turned back into a person.”

“How?” Arthur scoffed, shaking his head. “With more magic? No, the poor bastard’s as good as dead, just like the sorcerer will be once he’d found.” Lancelot’s expression was hard to decipher, and Arthur gave up when the knight glanced away. Silence stretched between the three as fewer left the castle. Eventually, the knights weren’t able to hold back their yawns.

“Go,” Arthur offered, waving them off. “The next shift comes in less than an hour, and you two will need to be rested for tomorrow. I can hold it down until they come.”

Leon looked ready to argue, but Arthur fixed him with a glare. “No, you know I’m right. Get some sleep and be up at sunrise.”

So Arthur stood alone in the dark, meticulously scanning the grounds for intruders and occasionally wandering up to the night sky. A flickering light in the room of his chambers caught his eye, and he smiled knowing Merlin and Mordred were safe.

----

Merlin was going to get himself killed, sooner or later. Gaius was right, he thought to himself, peeking around a corner to look at the guards standing at attention outside Morgana’s rooms. Since no one had come to arrest her yet, he had to assume no one else had caught on. That was good, he thought, and he intended to keep it that way.

“Sure, Merlin,” He muttered to himself, “This is a great idea! Use more magic to distract guards hell bent on catching a sorcerer. This can’t possibly go wrong.”

His eyes glowed golden and further down the hallway a loud clatter caught the guard’s attention. Silently apologizing to the poor servant who would have to put that suit of armor back together, he made a dash for Morgana’s door the second the coast was clear. 

Merlin shut the door quietly, but when he turned around he yelped in surprise.

Morgana sat on the floor at the foot of her bed, eyes red and puffy from crying. Gwen sat above her, gently stroking her hair and whispering soft words of comfort, but sitting on Morgana’s lap-

“Don’t freak out!” Gwen said quickly, after the initial shock of Merlin barging in had left her frozen. “Everything is-”

“We need to leave,” Merlin said sharply, face paling even as Mordred looked up at him with big eyes.

The dragonet had fully shifted, and was now the size of a large dog. Dragons were warm, pups especially so, and if Merlin’s ears could be trusted Mordred had been purring in Morgana’s lap as she pet his head between his stubby horns. 

“S’okay,” Morgana mumbled, hanging her head. Mordred’s awkward and jolting transformation startled her, but soon enough there was a naked boy scrambling to pull some pants on. His draconic features were still quite obvious in the tips of his horns poking through his mess of curly hair and the patches of scales along his exposed skin.

“You are in so much trouble-”

“Merlin!” Gwen protested. “Stop it! He was just helping!”

“I told you not to go to the feast!” He snapped. His skin was starting to itch, which meant scales were popping out. Not good. “There was one rule, Mordred, don’t-”

“It’s too late,” Morgana interrupted, rubbing her face. “I won’t tell anyone, he just wanted to talk to me and explain what happened. His secret is safe with me.”

“But-”

“I understand if you need to-to tell Arthur. I don’t-” Morgana’s voice cut off into a choked sob. “I didn’t-I didn’t mean to kill him! I’m not-not evil! I didn’t know-”

Merlin sighed. “I know.” Kneeling down, he shuffled a bit closer to her. Mordred eyes him warily, but with a tired nod from Merlin he affixed himself right back to Morgana’s side and began purring again.

“I knew you had magic,” He said quietly, “I didn’t know that this…would happen.”

But he had, hadn’t he? Merlin knew all too well that without any help or training this would only worsen. If she hadn’t already been discovered, she would be soon.

“You didn’t kill him,” Mordred chirped happily. “Just a little petrified. Happens back home all the time.” Merlin was trying hard not to choke on his own tongue as he sputtered to respond, but Gwen seemed to find it amusing and giggled.

“He’s probably right,” Merlin said begrudgingly. “Spells like that can usually be undone with little effort.”

Morgana stared at him. “I-how do you know that?”

Merlin was an idiot.
“I- uh-, well, you see-”

“Merlin’s a dragon too!” Mordred answered, snuggling into Morgana’s arm while he stared at Merlin with wide eyes. “He’s the strongest, bestest-”

“Mordred!” He hissed. This was a disaster. At the rate things were going, all three of them would end up on the pyre soon.

Morgana laughed quietly, although she still sounded sad. “I understand if you have to tell Arthur it was me, to keep yourselves safe.” She hunched up on herself again, and a new wave of sadness hit Merlin’s nose like a brick wall.

“What are you talking about?” Merlin growled. The pounding ache in his head worsened. “I know a place where you'll be safe with people who can help.”

“She can’t just…disappear,” Gwen pointed out. “The king-he’ll be furious.”

“It’s not safe here! If Morgana and Mordred go-”

“I’m not leaving!” Mordred cried out, glaring defiantly at Merlin. “You can’t make me!”

Exasperated, Gwen exclaimed, “Nobody is leaving!” All eyes fell on her as she let out a long, slow breath.

“Mordred, you were nowhere near us when it happened. As long as you don’t show your-” She gestured vaguely in his direction, making him grin. Merlin groaned. “You and Merlin should be fine.”

“Morgana can’t stay,” Merlin insisted, standing back up to pace. He purposefully turned his head to avoid the look of hurt on her face. “I can’t-I’m barely able to control my own magic, I wouldn’t be able to teach you how, I’m sorry. But I know someone who can.”

“Not-not Kilgharrah?” Mordred asked in a small voice, eyes wide with worry. Merlin shook his head quickly.

“No, no of course not. There are druids who would be willing to teach you, I think. If this blows over, then…”

“I can’t leave Camelot.”

Morgana’s expression had hardened. “I won't leave you behind. If Uther found out what I-if he knew any of you had helped-” She trailed off.

“I will stay here, and Merlin will do his best to teach me,” Morgana finally settled on, giving Merlin a stern look. “It’s the only option I’ll accept, so either you try or you don’t and run the risk of me losing control again.”

Merlin stared at her, finally able to recognize the headstrong noblewoman he knew in her determined eyes.

The bell tolled in the courtyard, and Merlin glanced out at the dark forest beyond the lower town. Somewhere out there Celesta and her mother waited in fear for his father’s next command. He had no right to demand Morgana leave to train her power when he himself had refused to do the same.

“A compromise, then.”

----

“This is not my best plan,” Merlin muttered under his breath, only half hoping Mordred could hear him. He saw himself as a bit of a role model for him, and he needed to know that this was an aspect of Merlin he shouldn’t try to emulate. On the other hand, he didn’t need another person in his life doubting him. He was nervous, and Mordred could tell. He had volunteered to be the one to do this, to which Merlin had immediately put his foot down. 

The plan in question was hardly foolproof, and relied heavily on the element of surprise paralyzing everyone from stopping him. Considering the entire castle was on high alert, he doubted he could count on it.

“Now remember after my distraction,” He had instructed, much more calmly than he had felt. “Your job, Gwen, is to plant the story that the petrification was the ruse all along, not my thing. Mention it in the kitchens and laundry room a few times, and it’ll spread like wildfire. Morgana, listen to make sure that this theory is brought to the court, don’t be afraid to seem nervous and really emphasize the danger you were in by being near him. Both of you need to make sure that Uther head’s about this theory and believes it, and I believe talking with the knights will ensure it.”

“I’ll be sending someone soon for you too,” he added gently, offering a small smile to her. “I’m sure she’ll agree to help, just make sure you have room in the household budget for a second maid.” Morgana and Gwen shared a brief look before nodding. Mordred made an inquisitive chirp.

“What about me?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your job is to stay out of sight, and therefore out of Uther’s mind. Keep a low profile and don’t even think about leaving Gaius’ sight. You’ll need to stick close to him anyways, since you’re his apprentice while I’m gone.”

“But you’re his apprentice!” He whined, fidgeting on the stool. “And I don’t want to be stuck inside cutting up plants all day!”

“I’m not kidding, Mordred, all it takes is one twitch in front of the wrong person and everything could be ruined.”

“Merlin,” Gwen prompted softly, “We’ll be okay, I promise.”

Morgans nodded in agreement. “I’ll protect him with my life. Besides, what is your plan to distract everyone?”

Merlin had just sighed.

Now, standing in the highest tower of the castle, he was rethinking things. He’d made sure no one had seen him climb up, and he’d loudly announced earlier that Mordred would be picking up his duties as he left to care for an ailing aunt/uncle/neighbor (he’d forgotten which one he’d started with so everyone he told got a different version of the story). 

Arthur was training on the grounds below, blissfully unaware that his day was about to be horribly interrupted. “I’m sorry Arthur,” Merlin muttered, sticking his legs out the tiny window. “It’s for the best.” 

Before he could rethink anything, he shoved off from the ledge and began his free fall.

Merlin made a note that this was a reasonable security concern, as no one thought to attack knights while they were actively training, yet when timed right they were tired and wielding incredibly dull weapons.

It was a gamble that he’d be able to shift by the time he reached the ground, but there really wasn’t another way for a dragon to feasibly appear amidst the castle grounds. His bones snapped and grew, the once dull pain sharper as he rushed the transformation.

Just as he thought he was about to become a smudge on the ground, his wings formed and were snapped outwards. Merlin let out a deafening roar to guarantee all eyes were on him, which was probably unnecessary but added to the shock and fear of the entire castle. 

Good.

Everyone screamed in terror, and fumbled to either get away or raise a shield. Everyone, that is, except for Arthur. No, he drew his training sword confidently, one that Merlin knew for a fact was duller than a butter knife, and began spewing out threats.

Oh heavens , he thought to himself, he’s an idiot and is going to hurt himself . Arthur knew his sword was shit, and everyone had heard the legendary tales of dragon’s fiery breath, and yet he had been ready to defend everyone without a thought spared for his own safety.

Merlin felt something in his chest, something warm that he tamped down immediately. He’d have to be sure to let Arthur know how reckless and stupid he was, lest some other dragon come along with worse intentions.

He swooped in, talons carefully plucking the prince from the ground, and let out a column of flame in the air away from anything (or anyone) flammable. Panicked cries arose from the knights and the alarm sounded, signaling his time to leave.