Dragon of the Dawn

by LikeAPaperPlane, SlantedKnitting

Summary:

To avoid war with the Druids, Arthur lifts the ban on magic in Camelot. As a sign of peace, the Druids gift him a dragon egg. Now Arthur must decide if it would be wise to bring a dragon into the world, or if his interest in the egg is only due to the handsome Dragonlord who wields the power to hatch it.

Notes:

• Inspired by [Restricted Work] by LikeAPaperPlane, SlantedKnitting (Log in to access.)

Huge shout-out to LikeAPaperPlane who came up with this concept and made the wonderful art for it. I simply cannot resist baby Aithusa!! It’s been such a pleasure working with you <3

Big thanks to Excited_Insomniac for betaing this fic for me!

Finally, this fic fills my Merlin Bingo square of “Dragonlord Voice”

This moment was a year in the making, but Arthur was unprepared for how nervous he was. There were so many Druids in the city, and soon they would even be in the castle. They were here at his invitation, as his guests, but he was still uneasy. He’d been meeting with them frequently over the past months, but always on their own land. Now they were in his home.

Today, with his power as King of Camelot, Arthur would finally strike down the laws against magic that his father had put into place so many years ago. He would decree new laws that would actually protect those who used magic, like the Druids. He would make peace with their community.

Just a year ago, Camelot had been on the brink of war with the Druids. After much time spent negotiating, listening, and learning, the kingdom was no longer under threat. And the kingdom would allow magic. The kingdom would embrace magic.

Collecting himself, Arthur adjusted his crown, nodded to his advisors, and began the walk out of the castle and into the courtyard. His knights were already out there, standing guard and offering a Camelot greeting. The Druids would already be out there, too, waiting for Arthur to make an appearance and officially welcome them to the city.

The courtyard was bright and bustling when Arthur stepped out into it. The numerous Druids were there, as well as many of the city’s residents, come to see if the rumours were true.

Arthur knew there would be doubters among them. There might even be those among his advisors and knights who disagreed with what he was about to do. But he was King, and this was his right, and this was his duty to keep Camelot safe from war.

“Friends,” Arthur said, holding out his arms to address the Druids from the top of the courtyard stairs. “Welcome to Camelot. I am glad to see you here on this historic day.”

There was a smattering of clapping, and Iseldir, the Druid leader, stepped forward. He had grey hair and a serious face that always put Arthur on edge. The man was mysterious and powerful, and Arthur never knew what he might really be thinking.

“Thank you, King Arthur,” Iseldir said. “We are honoured to be here with you.”

Arthur nodded at Iseldir. “We are honoured to have you. Today, we will revoke the laws that have long banned magic in Camelot.” There was a murmuring amongst his own citizens, and Arthur swallowed. “There has been enough suffering in the name of keeping our people safe. Magic itself is not dangerous.” More murmuring. Some of the knights shifted, perhaps anticipating trouble. “Today marks a new era in Camelot, one where those who peacefully practise magic are not only free to do so, but are protected under the laws of this land.”

Iseldir led the Druids in a round of applause.

“Please,” Arthur said to him, ready for this to be over, “join me inside.”

He turned and went back into the castle, heading straight for the throne room. It was set up impeccably, the scrolls containing the new laws laid out on a table in the centre of the room. Arthur and his advisors and most trusted knights took up the half of the room behind that table, and Iseldir and some of his Druids came to a stop in front of it.

“With your approval, Iseldir, these are the laws we are proposing.”

Iseldir bent over the table and took his time reading over the scrolls, muttering things under his breath as he did so. Arthur found himself nervous again. What if Iseldir wasn’t satisfied with these final versions of the new laws? What if this entire thing was a ruse and the Druids outside and within started to attack? Arthur and his men would have no recourse against an army with magic.

“Very well,” Iseldir said, straightening up. “This will do.”

It was a bit anti-climactic, but Arthur signed the scrolls, and the entire room seemed to breathe easier after that.

“I have a gift for you,” Iseldir said. “A token of appreciation and a sign of trust.”

He beckoned another Druid forward, and the man who stepped up was holding something covered in a plain cloth. The man was much younger than Iseldir, closer to Arthur’s age, and his blue eyes were unsettlingly focused on Arthur. They were bright, like ice, and noticeably so considering his dark hair. Arthur immediately began to wonder who this man was, why he’d never seen him in any of the previous negotiations, and how he’d been chosen to present this gift.

Like the other Druids, he wore simple clothes. Brown trousers, a blue shirt, a red neckerchief. He blended in with the rest of his people, although Arthur had to wonder how he hadn’t noticed him before, pretty as he was.

“This is Merlin,” Iseldir said. “He is our Dragonlord.”

That meant nothing to Arthur, but he nodded politely.

Iseldir gave Merlin a look, and Merlin removed the cloth to reveal a large, blue, tear-drop shaped egg. Arthur stared, feeling strangely drawn to it, or perhaps to whatever was inside of it.

“This is the last dragon egg in Camelot,” Iseldir said. “Merlin will be able to hatch it for you, when you are ready to show that you have truly accepted and embraced magic in your kingdom.”

Arthur paused as those words sank in. There was movement behind him, his advisors and knights shuffling to get a better look at the egg.

“Thank you,” he said numbly. He couldn’t imagine himself ever hatching a dragon egg. Surely having a stray dragon roaming the kingdom would be too dangerous. The egg itself was nice enough and would make a fine decoration or piece for the vault collections. “It is beautiful.”

“It is,” Iseldir agreed. “Merlin will stay here until such time as his Dragonlord talents are needed.”

Arthur raised his gaze from the egg to Merlin. If he’d had to guess, based on Merlin’s expression, he would have said Merlin wasn’t too pleased about being offered up in this way. He didn’t protest, though. Arthur wished he would. It was one thing to allow magic back in the kingdom—it was another thing to have a magic-user staying in the city in plain sight.

“We will find you a room in the castle,” Arthur heard himself say. Damn his diplomacy.

“Thank you,” Merlin said.

Arthur nodded and made himself look back at Iseldir. “I appreciate the gift. It is an excellent symbol of the peace between us now. Will you stay for our feast?”

Iseldir nodded graciously, so Arthur reached out and they shook hands.

When they stepped back from each other, the crowd applauded and began to thin as the servants set up for the feast. Iseldir was swallowed up by his crowd of Druids, but Merlin stayed put. Arthur tried to ignore him, accepting congratulations from his advisors and knights until there was nothing to do but acknowledge the Druid and his dragon egg.

Merlin was about Arthur’s height, though not nearly as broad. He didn’t look like a fighter, although Arthur supposed he’d still probably lose if Merlin were to lash out with his magic. He didn’t look likely to do that, thankfully. He stood patiently, waiting for instructions.

“I think that belongs in our vaults,” Arthur said cheerily. “It will be well cared for down there.”

“It does not need caring for,” Merlin said. “As long as it does not get broken.”

“We will ensure it.” Arthur held out his hands, and Merlin hesitated for a long moment before handing him the egg. It was surprisingly light. “I’ll take it down myself,” Arthur said.

Without waiting for a response, Arthur left the throne room and made his way through the castle and down into the vaults. He balanced the egg carefully in one hand as he unlocked the gates with his key, and then he stepped inside to find a place for it. Out of sight, out of mind.

---

---

The feast that night was something to remember. The food was in seemingly endless supply. The entertainment was wonderful, even from the Druid side. They used no magic, at least not that Arthur could tell, and he was grateful for that. He wasn’t sure how the nobles in attendance would react to open displays of magic so soon. He wasn’t sure how he would react.

Arthur sat at the high table with Iseldir on one side, and Merlin on Iseldir’s other side. All night, Arthur did his best to ignore Merlin’s presence, but he kept catching Merlin staring at him.

“This has been wonderful,” Iseldir said, and Arthur was relieved at the thought of the Druids turning in for the night. “Thank you for today.”

Arthur nodded. “Thank you for being amenable. I look forward to continued peace.”

“As do we. When do you think you will hatch the egg?”

Arthur took a gulp of wine from his goblet. “I am not sure,” he said. “It doesn’t seem safe to do so.” Despite himself, his gaze slipped from Iseldir to Merlin, and he saw that Merlin looked disappointed.

“There are ways to keep both you and the dragon safe,” Iseldir said.

“Perhaps. I have to put my people first, though.” He added to Merlin, “You don’t have to stay. I can’t promise when or if we’ll ever be ready to hatch the egg.”

“He can stay,” Iseldir said, and Merlin’s face was inscrutable. “It will be good for you to have him around.”

Arthur found that a bizarre thing to say, and he had no idea how to respond. Instead, he asked Merlin, “Were you set up with a room?”

“Yes,” Merlin said. “A very nice one.”

“Good.” Arthur went back to his wine and focused his attention on the entertainment until the Druids finally took their leave.

---

---

The next day’s council meeting was one of the most lively Arthur had ever seen. As soon as he was settled at the table, his advisors began asking about the dragon egg. Most of them were very eager to get it hatched as soon as possible. They said it would make Camelot look strong. They said it would make Camelot be strong, to have a dragon protecting the city.

“How do we know the dragon would protect us and not attack us?” Arthur asked when he could finally get a word in.

Some of the older advisors looked at each other before one of them asked, “Are you not familiar with the Dragonlords?”

“Should I be?”

“They used to be very important members of the court. They can speak to dragons, command them. With that Druid man around to control the dragon, we would be more than safe.”

So hatching the egg would mean keeping the Druid man—Merlin—around on a permanent basis. It would mean having someone with magic in the castle. It would mean trusting him.

“Think about what it would mean to have a dragon at the front of our army,” Arthur’s First Knight, Leon, said eagerly.

Arthur nodded. “I shall consider it.”

The council meeting continued, but the conversation barely moved on. The advisors were excited about the dragon, and Arthur knew his reservations about Merlin wouldn’t dissuade them. This was a new Camelot, one that embraced magic, and that was by his own design. He couldn’t use his personal distrust as a reason not to give Camelot a fierce dragon that would protect its people.

When the meeting dispersed, Arthur went down to the vaults to check on the egg. He wanted some time with it, to think and properly weigh his options.

He found Merlin outside the vaults, sitting on the floor by the locked gates.

Merlin looked up as Arthur approached, the torchlight from the walls dancing across the planes of his face. For a moment, he looked otherworldly and beautiful, and Arthur’s heart stuttered in his chest. Then he unhooked the keys from his belt and unlocked the gates.

“How did you find your way down here?” he asked as Merlin got to his feet.

“I can feel the egg. I tracked it down. I didn’t realise it’d be locked away.”

“You can feel it?”

Merlin nodded but didn’t elaborate. Arthur stepped inside the vaults and let Merlin follow him over to the egg. He’d placed it on a large shelf with other treasures. Merlin brushed his fingers over the dragon egg as if it were the most valuable thing there.

“My advisors are strongly in favour of hatching it,” Arthur said, his eyes on Merlin’s long fingers.

“I would like to be of use. I don’t wish to stay without good reason.”

It struck Arthur that he was alone with a Druid, with a man brimming with magical powers. By all rights, he should be scared, or at the very least on his guard. Then again, Merlin had no reason to attack him. By Arthur’s decree, Merlin was safe here.

“Iseldir said it would be good for me. What do you think he meant?” Arthur asked.

Merlin dropped his hand. “He could have meant anything,” he said with a smile. His eyes crinkled at the edges, his eyes fairly twinkling. Perhaps Merlin found Iseldir as mysterious as Arthur did. Or maybe Merlin knew more than he was letting on. The handsome smile could have meant anything, too.

“Can you really command dragons?”

“Yes. It’s a gift that has been passed down in my family for generations.”

Arthur almost asked if Merlin had ever hatched a dragon before, but he decided he would rather not know. If there were other dragons out there, other dragons not at Camelot’s beck and call, he didn’t need to think about that right now.

“What would it be like? If we hatched the egg?”

“The dragon would be small for a time. I’d help to raise it, and you should as well, if you want the dragon to trust and protect you.”

Hatching the egg would mean raising the dragon within. Arthur couldn’t begin to imagine what that might entail. What guidance would a dragon need? How would he go about getting the dragon to trust him? What role would Merlin play in all this?

“I will consider it very carefully,” Arthur said. He turned to leave, and Merlin hesitated before following. Arthur remembered what he said about being able to feel the egg. Was it painful for Merlin to be away from it? Or was it just a sense of kinship he felt with whatever was inside of it? Would he be uncomfortable without the egg in proximity? “Would you prefer to keep the egg close by?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

Merlin looked taken back by the question, but he nodded.

“Very well,” Arthur said. “You may keep it in your room, if you like. Only… don’t hatch it yet.”

“I won’t,” Merlin promised. He took the egg carefully off the shelf and cradled it against his stomach.

Arthur looked at him for a moment, at the egg he held so tenderly, at his long fingers spread across the blue shell, at the easy smile on his lips, at the way he was staring back at Arthur. He wondered what Merlin really thought of him, of this situation. Did he miss being amongst the Druids? Did he feel safe here? Did he believe Arthur worthy of hatching a dragon?

“Arthur?” Merlin asked and then quickly caught himself. “I mean, King Arthur. Um, My Lord? Sire? Sorry.” He gave a worried smile.

“Arthur is fine.”

Merlin nodded, looking unsure and rightfully so. Arthur didn’t give many people permission to call him by his first name alone. But Merlin wasn’t just anyone. If Arthur were to go through with hatching the egg, Merlin would become an important part of Camelot’s future. He would likely join the council. He would have to ride out with Arthur into any battles, if the dragon were to be utilised.

There might not be anyone else in Camelot as important as him, in a moment like that.

Arthur dropped his gaze to the egg and Merlin’s hands. He was holding something absolutely crucial. It was no wonder he wanted it close to him.

“Let me escort you back to your room,” Arthur said. He didn’t want the egg to run into any trouble.

Merlin nodded and stepped out of the vaults. Arthur locked the gates and followed him through the castle. Everyone they passed nearly stopped in their tracks to see the dragon egg. Arthur couldn’t even blame them. Such a thing had never been seen in Camelot before—at least not any time in recent history.

They made it to Merlin’s room without incident, and Arthur stood in the doorway as Merlin set the egg gently on top of his dresser. He was late for training with his knights, but something kept him standing there, watching Merlin fuss with the egg. He was intrigued by Merlin, which should have been terrifying—Arthur had never properly known anyone with magic before, and he still wasn’t sure he wanted to. By all rights, he shouldn’t trust Merlin. Yet here he was, wanting more.

“Have you settled in alright?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

Arthur nodded and forced himself to take a step back. “I must go train my knights,” he said before leaving. It felt strange to walk away from Merlin, to walk away from the egg, but he managed to make it out of the castle and onto the training grounds.

It was refreshing to train, to move his body and spend some energy on something other than worrying. He hadn’t been able to work with his knights in several days, and he’d missed it. Nothing was quite so effective at clearing his head and clarifying his thoughts as a good fight.

The knights of Camelot were formidable. Indeed, the only legitimate threat they’d faced in recent years was the Druids and their magic. Against non-magic foes, the knights could never lose.

Maybe they didn’t need a dragon at all. As long as the Druids stayed peaceful, there was no need to introduce such a force into their army.

Then again, if they had a dragon fighting with them, they might never need to lose a single life on Camelot’s side ever again. The dragon would surely intimidate most, if not all, of their enemies. And if not, a fire-breathing dragon could easily take out an army.

That would require Merlin to tell the dragon to fight for them. And that would require putting an immense amount of trust in Merlin, who Arthur barely knew. He was used to commanding his army by himself, riding into battle by himself or with only his most trusted knights. Having Merlin by his side instead—it was almost unimaginable.

It was what his council wanted, though. And Arthur had promised to consider it.

He just needed to get to know Merlin more. They would have to build their trust from the ground up.

It was a political strategy, similar to the strategy of making peace with the Druids. And if Arthur felt the urge to spend time with Merlin for other reasons, well, he would simply have to ignore those feelings. They weren’t important. Figuring out how to hatch the egg in a way that would benefit Camelot—that was what was important.

---

---

First thing in the morning, Arthur sent a servant to Merlin’s room with an invitation to join him for dinner.

He stayed in his chambers for a while, eating breakfast and letting his servants prepare him for the day, as he waited for the servant to return with Merlin’s answer. Finally, there was a knock on the door, and when Arthur called for them to enter, it was Merlin himself and not the servant.

Arthur stood from his breakfast, surprised.

“Hello,” Merlin said. He looked around, his eyes getting wider and wider. “Your room is much nicer than mine.”

“I’m the King,” Arthur said stupidly.

“You are. You…” Merlin titled his head, considering Arthur. “You’re nervous around me.” He sounded almost sad about it.

Arthur set down the knife he’d been holding. “No. Well… so what if I am? I’m not used to having someone around who has magic.”

“You’ve spent a lot of time negotiating with the Druids over the past year.”

“That was different. I was surrounded by my knights for protection.”

“You don’t need protection,” Merlin said quietly. “I just came to accept your invitation.”

“Oh,” Arthur said. “Good. We’ll dine in here.”

Merlin nodded. “I look forward to it,” he said before letting himself out.

Arthur sank back into his chair with a sigh. He wasn’t used to being caught off guard like that.

---

---

Merlin’s visit lingered in Arthur’s mind the rest of the day. He couldn’t seem to get Merlin out of his head. Merlin standing in his chambers, Merlin with the egg, even visions of Merlin standing side-by-side with him in battle.

Something about Merlin and the way he spoke disarmed Arthur.

Perhaps Merlin had put a spell on him, to make him acquiesce to the dragon-hatching scheme.

That thought made Arthur want to crawl out of his own skin. He didn’t want magic used on him, especially against his will, especially in an attempt to control his will.

Arthur cut his training session with the knights short and cornered Leon in the armoury. Leon was his First Knight, one of his most trusted advisors, and, more importantly in this moment, his oldest friend.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to hatch the egg?” he asked as soon as they were out of earshot of the other knights.

“Yes,” Leon said with more enthusiasm than Arthur expected. “Just imagine having a dragon on our side the next time we ride into battle.”

“What if we never had to ride into battle again? If word gets out we have a dragon, surely no one would try to fight us.”

“Even better, then.”

“If… if we did have to ride into battle, we’d need to bring Merlin into the fold. Trust him with our strategies and trust him to command the dragon on our behalf.”

Leon didn’t look concerned by that in the slightest. “Seems worth it to me,” he said simply.

“Do you think…” Arthur swallowed and lowered his voice, just in case they were overheard. “Do you think he might have cast a spell on me?”

Leon blinked and then, loudly, laughed. “You’re not that handsome.”

“Thanks,” Arthur muttered, rolling his eyes against a feeling of warmth on his cheeks. “I don’t mean that kind of spell. Something else. Something to control my mind.”

Leon considered him, his brow furrowed. “Why is it you think you’ve been enchanted?”

Arthur took a deep breath. “I’ve been quite seriously considering hatching the egg.”

Again, Leon seemed unconcerned. “Well that sounds like a fine decision to me. And not one brought on by magical persuasion.”

“I don’t want to make a mistake.”

Leon smiled. “You have the knights and the council behind you, supporting you. You wouldn’t be making a mistake.”

---

---

The first few minutes of dinner with Merlin were painfully quiet. The servants brought out food and drink and then stood back in silence, waiting in case they were needed. Merlin began eating, but Arthur’s stomach was in knots and he couldn’t bear the thought. He needed to figure out this man, to know him, to trust him. Everything was riding on that.

“How,” Arthur started, and his voice boomed in his chambers. He cleared his throat and asked in a steadier voice, “How did you come to learn magic?”

Merlin sipped at his wine. “I’ve had magic since I was born. I only studied it to learn how to control it, rather than having it control me.”

He went back to eating as if he hadn’t just said something entirely bizarre. Arthur didn’t know that much about magic, but he knew it had to be studied. It had to be taught and learned. He had never heard of anyone, not even in fairytales or legends, simply having magic since birth.

Arthur had so many questions. This man in front of him was something beyond fascinating. For his part, Merlin didn’t seem to realise he’d said anything strange. He just kept eating.

“How does one study magic if they already know it or… have it?” Arthur asked.

Merlin considered the question. “Magic is powerful.” He spoke with his hands, gesturing vaguely as if that would help clarify his meaning. “It’s beautiful. I think I could live a thousand lifetimes without understanding or knowing all that magic is or has or can be.”

Arthur exhaled, the skin at the back of his neck prickling. It was overwhelming to think about, that there was this force out there that Arthur had never understood and might never be able conquer for his own use.

“What do you really think about magic?” Merlin asked, his gaze piercing through Arthur.

Arthur’s first instinct was to give some standard issue response, but that wouldn’t get them anywhere. He was supposed to be building trust with this man.

“I’m worried I’ll make mistakes ruling a kingdom that allows magic because I don’t use it myself, and I don’t understand it. I can never hope to understand what it’s really like for those who do.”

Arthur’s words hung between them, and Merlin licked his lips.

“There are probably a lot of things you don’t understand. Isn’t that why you have advisors?”

“I—yes,” Arthur said.

“For what it’s worth,” Merlin said, going back to his food, “I respect that you’re at least trying. That’s a lot more than some other kings have done.”

Arthur knew he was talking about his father, Uther. When he was King, Uther never would have considered making peace with the Druids. He would have marched out to war with them and led his men to their deaths. He’d been arrogant and entirely too stuck in his ways, and in the end that would have been his downfall with the Druids.

Arthur knew the Camelot army never would have stood a chance against magic, though. He knew what would happen if they tried, and he’d never wanted anything less. He valued the lives of his knights, his men, his people. So he’d worked to make peace with the Druids.

By that logic, it made all the sense in the world to hatch the egg and have a dragon at his disposal. It made sense to have someone like Merlin, someone with magic, on his side if another war threatened to break out.

“Would you attend my council meeting tomorrow?” Arthur asked.

“If you like.”

“I would,” Arthur said quietly, and Merlin gave him a smile.

The knots in Arthur’s stomach loosened, he finally helped himself to some dinner.

---

---

Arthur’s advisors seemed surprised but not angry to see Merlin join them the next day. Merlin sat close to Arthur, which was distracting. Arthur wanted to keep Merlin at arm’s length, to keep a clear and steady head. When Merlin had left his chambers the night before, their food gone and goblets empty, all Arthur had wanted was an excuse to keep Merlin there longer.

It was strange to have feelings for such a man, but here Arthur was. He couldn’t deny it.

Once everyone was seated and quiet, Arthur addressed his council. “As you can see, I invited Merlin to join us today. I—” The words caught in Arthur’s throat. Leon gave him an encouraging smile. So did Merlin. “I would like to hatch the egg.”

The room came alive all at once. Some advisors clapped, others cheered, and Leon was pounding the table in his excitement.

“We should have a grand ceremony!” someone shouted.

“A hatching ceremony!” someone else agreed.

Merlin gestured to get Arthur’s attention and said, not loud enough to be heard over the commotion of the other advisors, “It would be better if it were a smaller event. Just me and you. Otherwise the dragon might get overwhelmed and fly away.”

Arthur had quite liked the idea of a grand hatching ceremony. The idea of just himself and Merlin, alone together, was something he would have to grapple with.

Arthur waited for the room to quiet down before announcing, “It will have to be a quiet affair. No ceremony. Just… just myself and the Dragonlord. We don’t want to scare the dragon off.”

The advisors were clearly disappointed with this news, but they didn’t protest.

“We should do it tomorrow night,” Merlin said.

That alarmed Arthur, but he appeared to be the only one. Everyone else looked thrilled at the idea.

“Out in the woods,” Arthur decided, “where we won’t be disturbed.”

“How will the dragon be named?” one of the advisors asked.

“What will it eat?” asked another.

“Where will it live?”

Arthur glanced at Merlin, who was just smiling. Arthur raised his hands to get quiet and nodded at Merlin, letting him address the room.

“I will choose a name for the dragon once it is hatched. That is tradition for the Dragonlords. It will prefer raw meat, and it will be free to go where it pleases.” He looked back at Arthur. “It will choose to stay close to us if we are the only ones there for the hatching.”

There was a moment, a brief moment, where Arthur couldn’t look away from Merlin and the room was blissfully silent around them.

Then came a cry of, “We should hold a tournament to celebrate the dragon after it hatches!”

Merlin didn’t object, so the rest of the council meeting was spent making plans.

Arthur let his advisors carry on, his head too full of thoughts to contribute much. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it might be like to hatch a dragon, to watch one come into the world. Would it make an appearance at the tournament? Would having a dragon around scare the competitors or spectators? Would it be too small to be intimidating yet?

And what about Merlin? Everything would change after they hatched the egg. Merlin would continue coming to council meetings, would become instrumental in Camelot’s military strategy, would be around for as long as the dragon was. How long did dragons live? Would Merlin be happy staying in Camelot for so long, away from his Druid friends, stuck with Arthur and the advisors and the knights?

---

---

Arthur trained his knights the next day, going hard and trying to get out all his nervous energy. There were only a few hours left for a dragon-free Camelot. Soon enough, he and Merlin would go into the woods, and then everything would change.

After training, Arthur still felt restless, so he went hunting. He didn’t take a large group, just a servant who knew how to stay out the way.

The woods were quiet, peaceful, and Arthur focused on being the same.

He caught two hares and stuffed them into his bag, thinking the dragon might like them for its first meal.

He stayed in out until the sun began to set, and then he returned to the castle. Back in his chambers, Arthur had only just finished changing out of his hunting clothes when Merlin burst in.

“You should probably pick up knocking as a habit,” Arthur said, and Merlin just grinned.

He had the egg with him. “Are you ready?” he asked.

Arthur nodded. He grabbed his bag full of hare and led the way out of the castle. Merlin followed, and Arthur was exquisitely aware of the egg. Soon, it wouldn’t be an egg. Soon, it would be a dragon, a real live dragon. Soon, everything would change.

They didn’t speak as they wound through the castle corridors, didn’t speak as they made their way into the woods. It was dark, the moon barely visible behind clouds, but the egg fairly glowed. It was a lovely colour, and what moonlight there was bounced off it easily, making it look ethereal.

Arthur had never experienced a night quite like this. Everything felt too close to the surface. His skin prickled with the knowledge of what was about to happen.

Merlin seemed unaffected. He strode through the woods with confidence, with purpose. This was the whole reason he was in Camelot. This was his entire purpose. He was ready.

They walked for a long while until, finally, Merlin came to a stop in a bit of a clearing between trees. He balanced the egg carefully on a fallen trunk and stepped back, giving the egg a long look.

“Are you sure?” Merlin asked.

“Yes,” Arthur answered quietly.

Merlin took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Then, he started whispering. It was a strange whisper, a commanding whisper. It was in a language Arthur didn’t know, had never heard before, and it gave him shivers. It felt like Merlin was speaking the language of the Earth itself. It felt like the Earth might even respond.

The night closed in on them, and Arthur found it hard to breathe as Merlin’s whisper carried on the air.

He couldn’t look away from Merlin, overwhelmed by the power emanating from him, by the look of ecstatic concentration on his face, by the thought that he was making this happen with nothing but that voice.

The egg trembled, and Merlin fell quiet. Arthur looked between him and the egg, waiting for what was next.

It took a minute, a long minute of nothing but anticipation, but finally the egg cracked. A tapping came from within, and a piece fell off, and Arthur got his first glimpse of the white dragon within.

It was mesmerising. The work it was doing to come into the world and the fact that it was alive now. Merlin had done that, and the creature was peeking out at them, and it might be the most wonderful thing Arthur had ever seen.

Merlin sniffed, and Arthur glanced over to see him smiling, but there were tears in his eyes. Arthur stepped closer to put a hand on his shoulder, and Merlin covered it with his own for a moment.

“Aithusa,” Merlin said, and his voice still had a hint of that strange whisper.

“What’s that?”

“Her name. For the dawn.”

Merlin took his hand away and stepped out of reach, kneeling before the dragon. He said something to it, too quiet for Arthur to hear. He looked reverent. The dragon looked back at him, and Arthur wondered if somehow the dragon knew that she owed her life to the man in front of her.

“Come,” Merlin said, beckoning Arthur closer.

The egg was mostly gone now, the dragon just standing on its base. Arthur swallowed and took a few steps towards the dragon. He reached out with his hand, and the dragon just looked up at him, perfectly unafraid.

Arthur reached her and pet her head as gently as he could. She was magnificent.

Aithusa chirped up at him and then started clawing her way up his arm, her talons digging in.

Arthur looked to Merlin, and he was just laughing. He was beautiful when he laughed.

Merlin stood as Aithusa perched on Arthur’s shoulder. “She’s hungry,” he said.

“I brought hares,” Arthur said, reaching into his bag and careful not to dislodge the dragon.

“They’re as big as her,” Merlin said, laughing again. He took one anyway, and Arthur took a knife from his bag as well.

Merlin skinned the hare and cut off small pieces of meat, tossing them in the air for Aithusa to catch.

It was unreal, being in the woods with Merlin and a dragon on his shoulder. Arthur didn’t know what to do, what to think. This was entirely new territory.

When Aithusa let a few pieces of the meat drop to the ground instead of catching them, Merlin set the rest of the hare down next to the remains of the egg.

“Where will she sleep?” Arthur asked.

“That’s up to her.” Merlin reached out to pet the dragon, and she chirped at him. “Maybe a cave somewhere. Or the battlements of the castle. Somewhere high up where no one can get to her.”

As if on cue, Aithusa took flight. She was ungraceful at first, just flapping her tiny wings and hovering over their heads. Then she took off, rising higher, and disappeared into the night.

“How do you know she’ll come back?” Arthur asked.

“She’s ours now,” Merlin said, and Arthur warmed at those words, immensely glad that he’d listened to Merlin and done this in private, just the two of them. “Even if she gets lost, I’ll be able to call her back.”

“How?”

Merlin smiled. “I’m a Dragonlord, remember?”

He was so unassuming, but now Arthur knew the truth. He was powerful, perhaps beyond comprehension. He was a man who could command dragons. He was a man who could bring dragons into the world. He was a Dragonlord.

Arthur thought back to the whisper Merlin had used when the egg had hatched, and his skin began to prickle again.

“We should get back,” Merlin said.

Arthur took one last look at the broken egg and then turned and headed towards the castle.

Once inside, Arthur found that he wasn’t ready for the night to be over. He walked Merlin to his room, dragging out the inevitable end.

“Here we are,” Merlin said when they reached his room. He opened his door and stepped inside.

“Have you been comfortable staying here?” Arthur asked.

“Yes. Have you been comfortable with me staying here?”

Arthur smiled. Leave it to Merlin to ask the question so plainly. “I was unsure at first,” he said. “I think I’ve come around.”

Merlin looked pleased with that answer, and the moment between them stretched out.

Arthur couldn’t think what to do. This was, yet again, entirely new territory.

“Goodnight,” Merlin said softly.

“Goodnight,” Arthur breathed as Merlin closed the door.

---

---

Arthur opened his windows in the morning to take in the day and let the sun wake him.

He looked out over the courtyard, at the people going about their business, at the shadow circling them. When he looked up into the sky, he wasn’t surprised to see that it was Aithusa flying above.

She seemed to just be having fun, spreading her wings in the sunlight and practising her flying.

Arthur watched her, wondering what it would be like to have such freedom, and then suddenly she was flying right towards him.

She barrelled in through the window, and Arthur caught her against his stomach.

“Hello,” he chuckled. She chirped up at him.

She was so small, so delicate. It was hard to believe she would grow to be so fearsome.

Arthur turned away from the window and couldn’t help but notice how his servants backed away.

He supposed he couldn’t blame them. This was their first time seeing a dragon.

To show them that she presented no threat, he brought her up to his shoulder and sat down for breakfast. He had no raw meat to share, but he gave her some fruit and bread, and she ate it seemingly happily.

When it was time to be dressed for the day, Arthur’s servants dared to approach him. Aithusa flew away, but only barely. She hovered nearby, watching Arthur’s servants fuss over him, and when he was ready for the day, she took up her place on his shoulder again.

It was amazingly easy to accept a dragon into his life.

Arthur went to his council meeting with Aithusa still on his shoulder, which caused quite a stir with his advisors.

It wasn’t until Arthur was seated in his usual spot that he realised he hadn’t invited Merlin to the meeting. There was so much attention on him and Aithusa, and it was strange not to have Merlin there with them.

The meeting started with more discussion about the next day’s tournament, and Arthur did his best to pay attention. It was difficult with a dragon slumbering on his shoulder, though. All he could think about was her—and Merlin.

He couldn’t believe how much had changed over the past day. Just yesterday, there had been no dragon in Camelot. Now there was one on his shoulder.

She had come back, just like Merlin had said. She was theirs now. Theirs. His and Merlin’s.

Arthur thought back to the previous night, to the woods and the egg and that voice Merlin had used to hatch it. The voice of a Dragonlord.

He wondered when he’d get to hear it again. It didn’t seem likely that Aithusa would get lost if she continued to stay this close, but Arthur wanted to hear that voice again. He wanted to feel that power emanating off Merlin again.

He supposed it was a strange thing to want, given that he was King and should want all the power for his own. But the idea of Merlin being powerful as well didn’t bother him anymore. It was a very different kind of power, after all.

When the council meeting finally came to an end, Arthur took Aithusa to Merlin’s room. He knocked on the door, and the sound roused Aithusa from her nap. She chirped at Merlin opened the door.

“Oh,” Merlin said, looking delighted. “She found you.”

Aithusa jumped from Arthur’s shoulder to Merlin’s and nosed at his ear. Merlin chuckled and reached up to pet her.

He was so tender with her. It made Arthur ache in a strange way.

“I have to go train my knights,” Arthur made himself say. “I thought maybe she could stay with you in the meantime.”

“Of course. I’ll take her on a walk.” Merlin stepped into the corridor, closing his door. He gave Arthur a wave and headed off, talking quietly to the dragon on his shoulder.

Arthur watched them go, jealous for some reason. Was he jealous of Aithusa for getting to spend time with Merlin? Or was he jealous of Merlin for getting to spend time with Aithusa?

It felt like both.

Pushing those feelings aside, Arthur went to train his knights.

---

---

Arthur woke early the next day, eager for the tournament. He opened his windows as soon as he was up, hoping for another Aithusa sighting, but she wasn’t in the courtyard.

Arthur let himself get swept up by his servants for the morning. They dressed him, brought him to the field, sat him in the high seat.

When enough spectators had gathered, Arthur stood and gave the speech his council had written for him. The tournament would welcome Aithusa to Camelot officially, and their kingdom would prosper because of her.

Arthur hoped Aithusa would make an appearance, fly through the sky above the tournament field or land on his shoulder or chirp from a distance—anything. The spectators seemed to be hoping for the same, but Aithusa was nowhere to be seen.

The crowd was full and loud—they were ready for a day of fun. Arthur’s advisors were there, and some of his knights who weren’t partaking in the jousting themselves, and he even recognised some Druids who had come to support and probably see the dragon.

Arthur called for a start to the tournament, and then he sat and watched the first jousting match.

He loved a good tournament, but very quickly it was time for his servants to take him away to a tent so he could prepare for his own match. They re-dressed and armoured him, fitting each piece into place until he was covered with protective metal.

“Helmet?” Arthur asked, looking around when the servants seemed satisfied with their work.

“It was… here,” one servant said vaguely.

“I’ll go back to the armoury,” another said. “There’ll be some extras there.” He ran off.

With time to spare, Arthur left his tent to take a walk amongst the other tents. He greeted the competitors, offering his well-wishes to those he wouldn’t go against himself.

He wandered until he came across a table of spare weapons next to the last tent, and there, bizarrely, was his helmet. Aithusa was curled around it, sleeping peacefully despite the crowd and the noise.

Arthur looked around, and of course others had noticed the sleeping dragon in their midst, but everyone was giving the table a wide berth.

Smiling to himself, Arthur reached for his helmet. Aithusa curled tighter around it, not waking but clearly not wanting the helmet out of her possession.

Arthur didn’t want to disturb her rest, but he also much preferred this helmet to whatever else his servants would find in the armoury.

Looking around again, Arthur waved over one of his knights and sent him to go find Merlin. He stayed by the table while he waited, feeling very protective of the sleeping dragon. He knew no one would dare do anything to harm her, especially not while he was there, but she was still so small, so vulnerable in her very public sleeping spot.

Merlin’s laugh announced his arrival.

“She’s starting her hoarding tendencies early, I see,” he said, coming up next to Arthur.

He reached out to pet down the length of Aithusa’s back, and Aithusa woke and blinked up at him and Arthur. Merlin picked up the helmet easily and handed it to Arthur as Aithusa flew up and took her spot on Merlin’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Arthur said, tucking the helmet under his arm.

“Did I miss seeing you joust?” Merlin asked.

“No, not yet.”

“Good.” Merlin pulled a scraggly red ribbon out of his pocket. It looked like it had been ripped off his own neckerchief.

Merlin stepped up and, smiling softly, wrapped the ribbon around Arthur’s upper arm. Arthur watched, heart in his throat. They were standing so close, and what Merlin was doing felt far too intimate to be done in public.

“Good luck,” Merlin said, stepping back with a grin.

Before Arthur could think what to say, Merlin turned and went off, heading towards the crowd to watch the next jousting match. Arthur watched him go, exquisitely aware of the spot on his arm where Merlin’s hand had been just a moment ago.

“Your Majesty.”

Arthur turned to see a servant approaching with another helmet.

“I’m all set,” Arthur said, gripping his helmet.

He let the servant lead him back to his tent, his mind entirely on Merlin’s favour wrapped securely around his arm. Did Merlin really know what it meant to give such a thing? How could he not?

Safe in his tent, Arthur held up his arm to inspect the ribbon. It was ragged along its edges, suggesting it really had been torn from Merlin’s own clothes. He’d given up something of his own just to give it to Arthur, to wish him luck, to reveal his feelings.

Arthur’s eagerness to joust ebbed away, replaced with eagerness to see Merlin again, to speak with him, to share that he, too, was feeling the growing bond between them.

He didn’t know how much time passed or how many other matches ended, but, finally, it was time for Arthur’s turn. He did his best to clear his mind. He was only doing this for fun, but if he didn’t pay attention he could still get hurt.

Out on the field, Arthur mounted his horse to thunderous applause. Before slotting on his helmet, he allowed himself a glance at the crowd. Merlin was there, Aithusa curled up on his shoulder and back asleep despite the excitement around her.

Arthur readied his lance and rode out, pressing his heels hard into the horse to pick up speed.

It should have been over quickly. The opponent should have feinted against his King.

Instead, Arthur nearly fell off his horse with the force of the blow he took to his side.

Gasping for breath, Arthur managed to guide his horse off the field, where servants and knights were already gathered to help him into his tent. His whole body was singing with pain, the injury on his side rippling out to every part of him. His head was spinning dangerously, and he struggled to keep his eyes open as he was dragged into the tent.

Servants sat him down and removed his amour, revealing the already blooming bruise on his side.

“I’ll get the physician,” a servant said, his face pale.

As he left, Merlin burst in, Aithusa flying behind him.

“Are you alright?” he asked breathlessly, falling to his knees beside Arthur. Aithusa circled them before coming to land on Merlin’s shoulder.

“Never better,” Arthur rasped, delirious.

“I can help,” Merlin said. He laid his hands on Arthur’s arm. “If you’ll let me.”

Arthur nodded, barely comprehending but trusting, trusting Merlin wouldn’t hurt him, trusting Merlin knew what he was doing, trusting Merlin with everything.

Gently, but not gently enough to prevent a cry from Arthur, Merlin put a hand over Arthur’s wound. The pressure of Merlin’s hand was nearly enough to make Arthur black out, but then he heard whispering. Beautiful whispering in a language that seemed to have no space between its words. Melodic whispering. Prayerful whispering.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stay conscious so he could keep listening, and then he felt it. He felt the magic coursing through him, and it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. It went through his whole being, one side to the other, down both arms to his fingertips, down both legs to his toes. It swirled around his middle, and lower, threatening to overwhelm him completely.

Gradually, the feeling seeped away, leaving nothing but a tingling behind. Coming back to himself, Arthur looked over at Merlin in time to see sparks of gold fading from his eyes.

“Thank you,” Arthur managed, trying to take stock of himself. He thought the magic might have helped, but the initial shock of being hurt was still running through his veins, making it hard to tell.

The physician came in and rushed over, tutting over Arthur’s side.

“I’m alright,” Arthur said, trying to wave him away. “Merlin helped.”

Ignoring him, the physician coordinated the servants into hauling Arthur to his feet and negotiating him out of the tent and into the castle. A dull throbbing overtook Arthur, his side sore and hot.

When they reached his room, Arthur collapsed gratefully on his bed and caught his breath while the physician examined him.

“You’ll be in pain for some time,” he said, poking around with little care for said pain. “But there should be no lasting damage. I would have expected at least a broken rib.”

“I think I had one,” Arthur said. “Maybe a few. Merlin started to heal me with magic back in the tent.”

The physician looked quite shocked at that, but before he could respond, the doors banged open and Iseldir burst in, closely followed by Merlin and Aithusa. More advisors tried to come in, but the physician shooed them away, shouting that the King needed rest and privacy. He tried to get Iseldir and Merlin to leave as well, but Arthur called out that they could stay.

“Tell me,” Arthur said, trying to sit up a little more. Pain shot through his side at the movement, and he winced with a groan. “Tell me,” he tried again, laying back down, “why do you look so distraught?”

Iseldir took a few steps closer to the bed. “After you were injured, there was a lot of commotion. The crowd was roaring, and most of your men were concerned with your safety, and, well. It was a bit of a blur.”

“And?” Arthur asked.

“And… I helped stop the man who injured you from riding off. He confessed, Your Majesty.”

“To injuring me?”

“To doing so on purpose. He says he’s not happy about the recent law changes and even less happy about the dragon.”

Iseldir went quiet, clearly expecting Arthur to have some outburst. Arthur wasn’t surprised, though. He’d known this was a risk, and he’d taken it anyway. He was too tired and in too much pain to have much of a reaction at all.

“Do we still have this man in custody?”

“Yes, he’s still on the field.”

“Good. Have him brought to the dungeons. He can wait there until I’m ready for him.”

Iseldir nodded but didn’t turn to leave. “If I may, King Arthur, you should allow Merlin to heal you. He’s the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. If anyone can help, it’s him.”

Arthur blinked, trying to understand what Iseldir had said. He glanced over at Merlin to see him looking embarrassed.

Perhaps it was just an embellishment to convince Arthur to accept Merlin’s help.

“I have no issue with Merlin healing me,” Arthur said.

Iseldir nodded again and left to go deal with the man who’d injured Arthur.

“You may go,” Arthur said to the physician. “I’m in good hands.”

“Your Majesty—” the physician tried to protest, but Arthur held up a hand.

“Merlin will come get you at the first sign of any trouble.”

The physician stayed where he was until Aithusa let out a threatening chirp.

“Very well,” he said and, taking his time, left Arthur’s chambers and closed the doors behind him.

Arthur sighed and closed his eyes, exhaustion taking over him now that the initial rush of everything happening all at once was starting to wear off.

At the sound of Aithusa taking flight, Arthur opened his eyes to see her landing on his table and helping herself to some of the fruit left over from his breakfast.

Merlin came closer and took a long look at Arthur’s side. “There’s more I can do,” he said. “If you like.”

“Please.”

Merlin took a seat up near Arthur’s pillows and held the sides of his head with a gentle sureness. He began whispering, and his eyes burned a brilliant gold.

The magic rushed through every part of him again, and Arthur struggled to keep his eyes open. He wanted to watch Merlin, to see that gold, to see how he commanded magic so easily.

Arthur registered that he was trembling, the magic too much for his mortal body, and Merlin must have felt it too because his whispering tapered off, his eyes slowly turning back to their usual blue.

Coming back into his body, Arthur grabbed Merlin by his neckerchief and pulled him down for a kiss. Merlin gasped against his lips, but then returned it eagerly until he started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Arthur asked.

“I’m upside-down,” Merlin pointed out.

“So move.”

Merlin did, sitting next to Arthur instead. He shifted closer, careful not to touch too close to Arthur’s side, although the last thing Arthur was feeling in that moment was pain. They kissed again, and all Arthur could feel was Merlin’s lips, Merlin’s breath, Merlin pressed against him. All he could feel was his disparate thoughts slotting into place, making things clear and easy and obvious.

A knock on the door interrupted them, and Merlin pulled back with a smile. He stepped away from the bed as one of Arthur’s advisors came in.

“Your opponent is safe in the dungeons,” he reported. “He is ready for you.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said. The advisor looked curiously between him and Merlin until Arthur added, “You may go.”

The advisor bowed and left with a glance over his shoulder.

Arthur looked up to see Merlin frowning. He moved over on the bed, only barely wincing this time, making room for Merlin to lay down next to him.

“What will you do with the man who tried to hurt you?”

“Tried? I’d say he succeeded.”

Merlin lay down slowly, his side pressed close to Arthur’s. “You know what I mean.”

“There’s only one thing I can do with someone who makes an attempt on my life.”

Merlin looked over at where Aithusa had fallen asleep on Arthur’s platter. “Would you consider letting him live?”

Out of respect, Arthur thought through his response. “Considering his motives, he probably would have attacked you and Aithusa, given the chance.”

“I know. That doesn’t mean he should die. The whole point of peace between Camelot and the Druids was to prevent war, to save lives. It’s not this man’s fault that he believed the lies your father told about the dangers of magic.”

Arthur knew that was true, and he’d known all along that he’d find resistance to the changes he was making. If he showed leniency, would the people be more or less likely to continue resisting?

“Please,” Merlin said.

Arthur nodded. “Alright. When I have the strength to get out of this bed, I will meet with the man. I will tell him that you are the reason he will live. Maybe he will see that those with magic are not all bad.”

Merlin reached for Arthur’s hand and held it between both of his. “Thank you.”

“May I ask you something?” Arthur asked, turning his head to look Merlin full in the face.

Merlin’s eyebrows went up. “You’re the King,” he said. “You can do whatever you like.”

“Yes, but will you answer me honestly?”

Merlin considered him for a moment and then nodded.

“What did Iseldir mean when he said you were the most powerful sorcerer to ever live?”

Merlin pursed his lips before giving a weak smile. “The Druids have long told me that. Some of them even call me another name. I’m Emrys to them, and Emrys has a great destiny, long foretold.”

Arthur tightened his grip on Merlin’s hand, trying to comprehend. So Merlin was the most powerful, out of all the Druids, out of anyone else with magic. And here he was, tending to Arthur’s wounds and advocating to spare the life of a guilty, magic-hating man.

It was a wonder Merlin wasn’t leader of the Druids. Why did he let Iseldir take command instead?

Perhaps he wasn’t interested in that kind of power. He certainly didn’t feel like a threat. He never had.

Arthur wondered briefly if his easy acceptance of Merlin and his power was just a side-effect of all the healing magic still pulsing through him. But he did trust Merlin, and he knew that Merlin trusted him, too.

Aithusa woke with a soft chirp and hopped around the table for a few seconds before flying over to Arthur’s bed. She landed in a heap and hopped over to Arthur’s free hand, pecking at it.

“She’s a nuisance,” Merlin said fondly.

“Can you really command her?”

“I can.”

Arthur looked over at Merlin and said, hoping his meaning was clear, “Then you should command her to go hunting. She must be hungry for a proper meal.”

Merlin grinned and licked his lips. He whispered, and it wasn’t the whisper of magic this time, but rather that powerful—deeply powerful—whisper from the woods. Even as quietly as Merlin was speaking, the sound took over the room, took over Arthur, took over Aithusa. She perked up, very clearly listening to what Merlin was saying. Then she flew out the window, leaving them finally and truly alone.

“Well?” Merlin asked, smiling.

Arthur shook his head, laughing, and reached over to pull Merlin in for another kiss.

---

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