Merlin Fic: And the World You Promised: Chapter Thirteen: Glass Half Empty, Glass Half Full

[jesterladyfic]

Chapter Thirteen: Glass Half Empty, Glass Half Full

Merlin’s heart hammered in his chest as he ran, the exhilaration of his battle still flowing through his veins like the magic that no longer seemed to be a burden or an excess but as natural a part of him as his hair or eye color. But while he was thrilled at having saved Arthur, the sight before him in the valley he’d created was one out of one of his nightmares. Aithusa was about to kill the knights and Merlin spoke to him out of their kindred voice, more stern and commanding than he’d been since the first time that he’d ever used it with Kilgharrah.

Aithusa made loud keening noises and withdrew to the ground, waiting in obeisance and Merlin spared one thought of curiosity and remorse before he put his attention to the flames, speaking to them as an ally and making them recede.

“Kilgharrah,” he roared, running for his friend.

He fell to his knees beside the great dragon, feeling with his senses, trying to ascertain the damage.

“Young warlock, you’ve done well,” Kilgharrah said, his voice still great despite the obvious pain he was in.

“What happened?” Merlin asked anxiously. “What can I do?”

Kilgharrah shook his head.

“Every dragon knows when their time has come. This is my time. There is nothing for you to do.”

“But this wasn’t the plan,” Merlin said. “Why are you here?”

“I heard your call,” Kilgharrah said. “I knew Aithusa was here. It was only right that I correct my own mistakes.”

“But you…”

“Oh, Merlin, you do not see because your heart is great, but I have been remiss in my duties and I had a debt to pay.”

“You’ve saved my life countless times,” Merlin said, shaking his head, not understanding. “Any debt you owed me is long gone. If anything I owe one to you.”

“That is not the way between dragons and Dragonlords,” Kilgharrah said, his voice sounding more faint. “Search your soul; you will know it to be true.”

Merlin didn’t want to search his soul, didn’t want to look inside himself. He would only find grief there; grief and pain, and he didn’t want that.

Gradually he became aware of Arthur coming up beside him along with the knights. A hand fell on Merlin’s shoulder as he knelt before the dragon and he’d recognize Arthur anywhere. Merlin looked around and spotted Leon standing there watching.

“What happened?” he asked in a low voice to Leon.

Leon did not seem afraid of him in the slightest now, which Merlin wondered at since he’d shown who he truly was without holding anything back. It would be enough to scare anybody.

“The smaller dragon was going to kill us,” Leon said, “this one saved us. But he seemed…to falter, like an old man at the end of his life.”

Merlin started to whisper words of healing, trying to do something.

“Merlin,” Kilgharrah said, opening his eyes with what looked like great effort. “How many times must I tell you that your magic will not work on me?”

“I will make it work!” Merlin cried desperately. “Don’t leave me.”

“Your powers are more than the earth itself,” Kilgharrah said, “but you are not a god. You have not the power of life and death over magic, which is what I am. You cannot save me, let me go. It has been my privilege to watch you grow into the man you have become.”

“But what will I do without you?” Merlin asked, grasping at anything. “How can I handle Aithusa without you? What about Arthur and our destiny? I would have failed today if not for you.”

Kilgharrah laughed, his laughter less mocking than it sounded.

“I have spoken with Aithusa, you will find him able to hear your heart as I once did. As for today it was you who succeeded. I merely aided. You know it now, Merlin, don’t you? You are magic, all magic, and it cannot be wielded against you. But you are the master, not the magic. I sense your destiny is rounding out. You need not fear for the future.”

“But how can you be sure? Morgana is gone to be sure but she is not the only evil in the world.”

“There comes a time, Merlin, when every child grows up and becomes a parent themselves. This is your time. Do not be afraid, but embrace it.”

Merlin shuddered, swallowing a sob, feeling Arthur’s hand tighten on his shoulder, even if no man or dragon was worth Merlin's tears.

“I will miss you,” he said, daring to move forward and put his hand against the great face.

“I am honored by your grief, young warlock,” Kilgharrah told him, a great sigh of affection leaving him. “I am honored by your clemency of long ago, your wisdom, and your unselfishness. I am honored to have been a help to you. I am honored to have been a part of your story.”

“It’s certainly changed a lot,” Merlin said, trying to smile. “I hated you once.”

“And I was once bound by my bitterness. You saved me, Merlin.”

“And you’ve been saving me ever since.”

There was a shudder running through Kilgharrah’s body and Merlin shook his head, falling into the dragon tongue without realizing it, needing that connection, spilling his fears and worries over the future, over Arthur, yet his love and his gratefulness at the same time.

Kilgharrah opened his eyes one last time and spoke out into the air, his voice louder than before, so all could hear him.

"Though no man can know his destiny, some lives have been foretold. Arthur is not just a King. He is the Once and Future King. Take heart, for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again."

“Pardon me?” Arthur said in great astonishment from behind Merlin.

“The story we have been a part of…will live long…in the minds…of men,” Kilgharrah said, his voice dying away.

Merlin felt Kilgharrah’s heart stop and a part of Merlin died, the part he associated so closely with his father and with his magic, and he dropped to the ground, a cry of grief escaping him before he could help it.

“Merlin, Merlin, it’s okay,” Arthur said, beside him now, arms around him. “Merlin, you’re okay. I’m sorry.”

Merlin’s world was white with sadness but he appreciated the effort and he knew it must be costing Arthur an awful lot to act so sentimentally, especially with someone he was angry with.

Gradually Merlin could quiet himself and look to the men standing silent around him. He stood up, Arthur to his side, and was surprised when every man there bowed to him. He thought at first it must be to Arthur, but when he edged away, trying to get out of the way, they followed him, bowing to him. He looked at Arthur, nervous, but the other man was only smiling and shaking his head.

“I’m going to have to get all new knights,” Arthur said. “Obviously the fire’s cooked their brains.” Then he clapped Merlin on the shoulder. “Shall we go home now?”

Merlin shook his head.

“There’s something I must do first.”

Arthur glanced at the great body beside them.

“Can a dragon be burned? I don’t really think we can bury-"

“I shall do it,” Merlin interrupted gently.

He moved away, calling on the power within himself, raising the dirt and earth and turf and all that had been rent by the battle and destroyed by the fire and placed it gently around the body of his friend. The huge hill towered over them all, green grass clinging to its side and a great tree was mounted on the top.

Arthur blinked several times and then opened his mouth and closed it again.

“That’s incredible,” he finally said.

“That’s me,” Merlin said, trying to sound okay even if he really wasn’t. “Badon Hill.” He wasn’t sure exactly why that was the name he’d chosen, but it felt right. “Now I do have one more duty to perform.”

Arthur glanced behind them to where Aithusa was waiting.

“What shall you do with it?”

“Dragons are creatures but they have intelligence and heart, Arthur,” Merlin said. “I am a Dragonlord, but to do what I have to do- I don’t know how. I watched Aithusa be born, I named-" he broke off, recalling the joy of that moment. “I do not know what Morgana has done.”

“Then ask,” Arthur said. Merlin looked at him in confusion. “Merlin, sometimes you amaze me with your lack of comprehension. I think we’ve all learned to pay better attention to what’s happening to the people around us. Perhaps this dragon was under her spell, or perhaps didn’t know what was going on. Or maybe you can change something in Aithusa as you obviously did in Kilgharrah.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said, smiling genuinely, and walked over to Aithusa, hoping both Arthur and Kilgharrah were right, that Aithusa would listen to him.

They could not speak out loud, but Merlin first spoke in the dragon tongue, words of remonstrance and sorrow and asked the questions he had no answer to. Aithusa wilted under Merlin’s words and then slowly started to open up, the confusion and fear pouring off him in waves.

They spoke mind to mind, Merlin bringing pictures and intentions as explanation, and Aithusa, still so young, so very young, especially for a dragon, asking questions as a child of a five would. It took a long time; Merlin needed to quest into the deepest corners of Aithusa’s mind, seeking the reasons behind his actions, the reason for his connection to Morgana.

Aithusa could not form complete sentences, could not give an explanation, but he could communicate his feelings, his compassion for the dying woman he’d seen before him one day and about the bond grown between them right when a dragon was most impressionable. Merlin vaguely recalled Kilgharrah mentioning that dragons became connected to people or older dragons right at the age Aithusa disappeared. Morgana had suffered much for Aithusa, captured and tortured and unable to use her magic for fear of hurting him. Merlin found himself shedding tears for her and for Aithusa and what they’d been through.

He did his best to explain that while Morgana may have suffered and may have loved Aithusa, her actions were wrong and the things she had had Aithusa do were wrong. Could Aithusa see that?

The dragon became inconsolable, guilt bubbling through his mind, overwhelming Merlin with the intensity of his emotions. Merlin sought to calm and offer absolution for one so young, to offer instruction, to offer companionship. Aithusa was still confused, still angry, still grieving, even as Merlin was, but he thought perhaps they could come together and make it through that process together.

When Merlin finally pulled out of Aithusa’s mind, he found his own body tired and would have fallen if Arthur had not been there to catch him.

“Merlin, you were quiet for hours,” Arthur said. “Leon was getting worried. What happened?”

“Leon was worried?”

“And Percival. And I’m sure if Gwaine had been here, he would have been charging the dragon trying to figure out what had happened to you.”

“I’m sure,” Merlin said, trying to keep a straight face and keep to his feet.

He felt utterly exhausted, everything finally catching up to him. His magic was still there, singing to him, but his body was worn, so very worn.

“We’re going to rest here and ride back to Camelot at first light,” Arthur said. “Come on, it’s obvious you don’t know how to take care of yourself.”

Merlin noticed with some astonishment a camp had been set up in his mental absence.

“Morgana?” he slurred, trying to keep his eyes open.

Aithusa butted at his arm, like a puppy, and Merlin kept his arm in contact with the dragon at all times.

“We burned her body,” Arthur said tightly and then led Merlin to a small tent, seeming to accept Aithusa would follow. “Now rest. We all have questions, but a half dead sorcerer is no good to me.”

“Is any kind of sorcerer good to you?” Merlin asked, falling onto the cot inside the tent, Aithusa curling up beside him.

“You are good,” Arthur’s voice said above him. “We’ll talk about the rest later.”

***

Merlin blinked his eyes open, confused by the heavy weight on his chest. He looked down; it was Aithusa’s head, coiled against his side. Merlin could feel a connection between them and it amazed him that he wasn’t more upset. Aithusa had, sort of, been the cause of Kilgharrah’s death, but then, Merlin had absolutely no right to throw stones at anyone with the things he’d done. He smiled gently down at the sleeping dragon, sending peaceful thoughts through their mental connection. Aithusa would have time enough to grow up, feeling guilty over things he’d done, to realize what was wrong. But to be harsh to him would be like torturing a small child, someone unable to realize its actions were wrong.

Merlin glanced around and was surprised to see Arthur slumped in a chair beside Merlin's cot, eyes closed, his snores rising through the quiet. Merlin closed his eyes and pondered all that had happened. He couldn’t believe that it was over. Morgana was finally dead, Mordred was gone, Arthur knew. It was like everything Merlin had been fighting for had happened. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. His burden was lifted; he had nothing left to tell. Though Merlin supposed he had yet to tell Arthur of his deal with the Sidhe. He should probably mention that, now that he thought of it.

Well, he would. Somehow he wasn’t afraid any longer, no longer worried about Arthur’s reaction. There would likely be a rough transitional period, but he knew Arthur would do the right thing. The long wait was over; the Golden Age of Albion was begun. Merlin could die with joy. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy, it never was, but Merlin wanted his moment of triumph and he was going to take it.

Arthur stirred not long later and jumped when he saw Merlin watching him.

“Merlin! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Resting on the field of victory, being plagued by your snoring?” Merlin suggested.

“The sounds of heaven compared to your prattle, I’m sure,” Arthur grumbled, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, Sire,” Merlin said. “Thanks…for sitting with me?”

Arthur looked uncomfortable.

“You were…rather useful last night. I figured you…needed it.”

“Is it so hard to just say you’re welcome?” Merlin asked.

“To insufficiently servile servants, yes,” Arthur said.

“Careful or I’ll set my dragon on you,” Merlin teased cautiously.

To his surprise, Arthur didn’t bat an eye.

“You do and I’ll have you thrown in the stocks,” Arthur rejoined. “I hear the harvest this year has garnered some particularly hard vegetables.”

“That’s your answer for everything, isn’t it? Throw Merlin in the stocks. Your originality knows no bounds.”

“Well, it’s worked remarkably well in the past; I don’t see a reason to stop now.”

“I’m going to get…girly with you,” Merlin said and grinned to see the look of consternation on Arthur’s face. “It won’t last long, I promise, but now that it’s over, I just have to know…are we all right?”

“We’re fine, you emotional leech,” Arthur said, glaring at him. “Merlin, I meant what I said, I am grateful for everything you’ve done. And I understand now just how much you’ve done for me. I can see that your magic is…well, it’s very useful actually, and rather spectacular if one can forget it’s you doing it. I think- I don’t think people who are like you should be persecuted.”

“Does that mean you’ll revoke the ban on magic?” Merlin asked hopefully.

Arthur shook his head causing Merlin’s hopes to plummet for one sickening moment.

“Yes.”

“You prat,” Merlin said.

Arthur smiled smugly.

“Serves you right.”

“I suppose I had that coming,” Merlin said. “So, you’ll really do it?”

“Oh, yes, you wilting numbskull, I will. I need to. It will probably be a very hard thing to do, getting everyone to agree, but that is what I’m going to do. Satisfied?”

“Arthur,” Merlin said simply, “I’m whole again.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he looked pleased.

“Now, there are a few things I need to know,” Arthur said, putting his Kingly voice on.

“Yes?”

“Are we going to have sorcerers coming out of the woodwork all over Camelot, making me look generally foolish, and/or trying to kill me and destroy the kingdom?”

“Probably,” Merlin said, “how should I know?”

“Aren’t you in knee deep with the secret magical community or something like that?”

“Since I’ve made my loyalties fairly obvious,” Merlin said, “I never really got an invitation if such a community exists. The Druids are all afraid of me, the evil ones think I’ve betrayed magic, and the few good sorcerers I’ve met generally either die helping me or go far away to get away from Camelot. That reminds me, I’ll have to contact Gilli.”

“Who’s Gill- never mind, wait, that little man who won the- never mind again.”

“Make up your mind, my lord,” Merlin said.

Arthur twitched like he wanted to throw something, but the only thing he had to throw was his sword, and Merlin had probably never made him that mad. Probably.

“I was going to say something generous about you, but I don’t think I will now.”

“The more you praise me the more likely I am to tell you all sorts of things,” Merlin tempted.

“You’re supposed to tell me those things anyway,” Arthur said. “No more secrets, remember? I am your King.”

“A perfectly lovely King,” Merlin agreed. “And you’re right, no more secrets. But…I seem to remember you apologizing for treating me poorly and I’m not sure you’re off to a good start in changing.”

“You’re never ever getting a day off for the rest of your life,” Arthur said. “But, I did want to say that…Merlin, you’ve given up a lot. You could have been something very big in magic, but you chose to remain hidden. For me.”

“I’m already something big in magic, thank you very much,” Merlin said. “And, yes, I did. But I’ve already told you I don’t regret that. Now it’s all over. We’re free of all that.”

“We are,” Arthur said, standing up, sounding much more important than he probably needed to. “And I’d like to inform you that I no longer require your services as a servant.”

“You’re sacking me again?” Merlin asked, surprised and saddened, “come on, no one knows your armor the way I do; I promise I’ll stop pinching food from your breakfast.”

“You did wh- Merlin, the reason I no longer want you as a servant is because I need you elsewhere. Someone who knows about magic needs to advise me in such things. Besides, I think long ago, they had things like court…sorcerers. A good title, don’t you think?”

“A promotion?” Merlin questioned, just to be sure, because such a thought had never occurred to him before, no matter if Arthur knew his secret or not.

Sometimes he’d thought his true destiny was boot polishing.

“Yes, Merlin,” Arthur said, looking pained that Merlin was making him say it. “I think it’s fairly obvious you’re not really a servant anyway. Guinevere mentioned, well, she said she thought you didn’t really fit there now that I knew and I agree.”

Merlin felt bad immediately thinking about Gwen.

“She hates me now,” he said. “No wonder she doesn’t want me around you so much.”

“Merlin, I sincerely doubt she hates you, nor will you have any more free time just because you aren’t my servant. Your duties will be immense, I assure you.”

Merlin perked up at the thought.

“You really don’t think she hates me?”

Arthur shifted uncomfortably.

“I know she is not happy with you, but remember, neither wa- am I.”

“You’ve forgiven me,” Merlin said in shock at Arthur’s slip.

“I have not,” Arthur said in outrage. “What you did was unforgiveable; I’m not likely to just forget about it.”

“You have, you have,” Merlin said mockingly. “You’ve forgiven me.”

“I can still take it back,” Arthur said grudgingly.

“Or you could give me a hug?” Merlin suggested.

Arthur rose calmly, walked purposefully forward, and cuffed Merlin soundly on the head. Aithusa woke when Merlin yelled loudly and looked for a second like he was going to roast Arthur alive before Merlin quickly reassured him.

“That is cheating,” Arthur said soundly, barely reacting at all.

Merlin had to hand it to him, Arthur was handling this splendidly.

“It’s not my fault,” Merlin protested. “He’s my responsibility.”

“What’s being a Dragonlord like?” Arthur asked curiously.

“Very odd,” Merlin said, looking far off. “My father told me that a dragon’s soul and mine were brothers. I guess it’s like that. A dragon cannot refuse a Dragonlord and it’s our responsibility to not abuse that power. To teach, to mediate. But in a way it’s like never being alone. Deep inside me is the bond I share with Aithusa and it will never go away, not even if he does, because I still feel Kilgharrah with me. I’ve always thought it was, in a way, well, like my father never died. Like there’s a part of him speaking to me.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t know him long,” Arthur said after a short pause.

“Me too,” Merlin said sadly, but without grief. There had been enough of that lately. “I did see him again actually.”

“Did you use the horn?” Arthur asked sharply. “Because I can tell you from experience that is not the way to go about seeing your dead relatives.”

“No,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes. “I-I, well, when I didn’t go to Camlann with you-"

“I wanted to know about that actually,” Arthur interrupted. “Why did you leave?”

“Morgana had stolen my magic,” Merlin said, shrugging. “I wasn’t any good to you without it, so I had to get it back. I went to the Valley of the Fallen Kings, to the Crystal Cave, to where magic began. Morgana was waiting for me, that’s how I found out about Eira, and she trapped me inside. But that's when I saw my father, he told me…he told me I was magic itself. I found myself in there, the magic of Emrys, it was…well, I used the crystals, saw what Morgana was planning on, and warned you about the path.”

“I was so sure I’d heard you,” Arthur said. “Guinevere thought I was crazy.”

“Well, you are that,” Merlin said, grinning, “but I did send you that message. Then I came as fast as I could. But I had seen him one more time.”

There was a slightly awkward silence where Merlin simply remembered and Arthur let him.

“So what will become of Aithusa?” Arthur asked.

Which was shocking, Arthur asking something instead of commanding.

“Uh, well, he’s mine,” Merlin said. “I have to take care of him, he’s only a baby, Arthur, he didn’t know what he was doing. Morgana bonded with him, was kind to him, he just thought that’s the way life was. And he…well, awful things happened to the two of them together. I need to bring him back to Camelot…?”

Arthur winced.

“Merlin, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Magic is one thing, but the people remember Kilgharrah’s attack all too well, and with what Aithusa’s been doing lately…”

“Then I can’t come back,” Merlin said.

“Now hang on,” Arthur protested, but Merlin was firm on this.

“No, Arthur, I can’t. He’s too little to be on his own like Kilgharrah and who knows what will happen to him. It’s my fault he did those things to begin with; I should’ve looked after him better. I can’t fail him again.”

“There are others you’ve made promises to,” Arthur said, sounding put out.

“I can come and visit,” Merlin said, “and I can advise you. And I’ll protect you.”

“Merlin, slow down,” Arthur said. “I didn’t mean…we’ll work something out. I don’t suppose Aithusa has shrinking powers or anything?”

“Well,” Merlin said, thinking and searching within himself. “Invisibility’s definitely an option, yes, I can do that.”

“We’ll work with it.”

“Good,” Merlin said, because he didn’t want to leave Camelot.

It was his home and almost everyone he loved was there.

“I think we’d better warn the men,” Arthur said, “and only tell a few people he’s in Camelot. Could we make a…home for him?”

“Aithusa,” Merlin said, “this is King Arthur. He wants to make a home for you in Camelot. I need you there with me. What do you say?”

Aithusa answered in the affirmative within Merlin’s mind.

“The other dragon could talk,” Arthur said, “is Aithusa too young?”

“Something else that happened to him,” Merlin said. “I’m hoping I can fix it somehow, but for now I can talk to him as a Dragonlord or in the mind. He can answer me there. He understands you. But, yes, he is very young.”

“Your world is vast and complicated,” Arthur said, inclining his head to Aithusa, who seemed to like it, though he shrunk back against Merlin.

Merlin wasn’t sure how this was going to work out, but he was glad to try.

Leon poked his head in the tent.

“We’re ready to go, my lord,” he said. “Merlin, are you feeling better?”

“Well, thank you,” Merlin said.

“Enough lazing about, Merlin,” Arthur said. “Some of us would like to go home if you don’t mind.”

“I’m not going to miss waking you up in the morning,” Merlin said.

***

They were on their way, Aithusa lazily circling overhead, sending pictures of everything he saw into Merlin’s head; it was distracting.

Arthur rode beside him. They’d lost about a third of their horses and five men. So only a few were riding, most of the horses dragging litters and wounded. It was a slow ride and Merlin had actually spent the morning healing all the more serious injuries before they started to return. At this rate they wouldn’t reach Camelot before nightfall.

Merlin was trying to figure out how to broach the subject of Avalon with Arthur. He really didn’t want to keep it from him, desperate to avoid even the appearance of lying, but how did one mention the fact that you’ve pretty much made the other person’s funeral arrangements without their consent? Luckily, Arthur started speaking first.

“Merlin, when Kilgharrah died, he said…well, he was talking about me. What did he mean; I would rise again at Albion’s greatest need?”

“Uh, not sure,” Merlin said, and then held his hand up at Arthur’s look of incredulity. “No, really, I’m not sure. I know you’re destined to be Albion’s greatest King, but I’ve heard you called the Once and Future King several times now. I think that means that somehow, when you die, you won’t really die, but you’ll be needed again, sometime in the future, to help this land. Whatever that means.”

Arthur looked confused.

“I don’t know how you deal with these prophecies and such things; they sound exhausting and ridiculously vague.”

“Welcome to my world,” Merlin said, flinging his arm out. “It’s terribly thrilling and ever so tiring.”

“Well, mine’s not exactly a holiday,” Arthur argued.

“No, but they’re sort of intertwined,” Merlin said apologetically. “Kilgharrah once told me we were two halves of the same coin. An interesting illustration, I must say.”

“Obviously I’m the brighter half,” Arthur said cheerfully.

“Funny, I said the same thing about me when he told me,” Merlin said.

“Why? That’s ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Merlin retorted. “Now, Arthur, about prophecies and stuff.”

“What?” Arthur asked in a voice of foreboding.

“When I saved you at Avalon, I had to ask the permission of the Sidhe. It’s their island, you see, and I could only do the magic there. They agreed, but they had a condition.”

“And what was that?” Arthur asked curtly.

“When you die…when you actually die, I promised to send you to Avalon,” Merlin finished in a rush.

“What?” Arthur asked again, like that was the only word he knew.

“I’m sorry, but it was the only way to save you, you were dying,” Merlin said hurriedly. “And you’ll be dead, it’s not like you’ll notice or anything. And, now, thinking about what Kilgharrah said, I think it’s supposed to be this way. You have to go somewhere to wait for when Albion needs you again. Once and Future King…”

“You absolutely infuriating idiot,” Arthur said, sighing. “Thanks for asking.”

“You. Were. Dying,” Merlin reiterated. “I’d like to see you react under that kind of pressure.”

“I don’t doubt you, Merlin,” Arthur said. “But you’re telling Guinevere about it. Also, once we get things squared away at home, I’d like to have a little chat with the Sidhe myself.”

“They do seem to like you a lot,” Merlin said. “After all, once they tried to kill you as a sacrifice and then there was the whole ‘Elena was really a Changeling they wanted to marry you’ thing.”

Arthur’s mouth dropped open in a most unseemly fashion.

“Come again?”