A/N: Sorry this chapter is even LATER than I said it was going to be! My sister is chronically ill and she made it through the vacation pretty well but crashed when we got back. Plus my reviews went missing and I was very distressed and distracted trying to get them back for a while there. Ah well, anyway, here it is only two days late!

AND HERE IS THE LAST CHAPTER.

"Merlin, what are we doing out here?"

"I am proving a point."

"What point is there to be proved by riding out into the woods in the middle of the night?"

"It's barely dusk!"

Mordred rolled his eyes with a huff but he seemed to accept that Merlin wasn't going to spoil the surprise, crossing his arms over his chest—not as petulant a gesture as it could have been if he hadn't had to move so gingerly—and letting his horse follow behind Merlin's without guidance.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder, watching for any signs of fatigue or stress. They had only been back in Carthis for two days and, though the regular healing sessions were working wonders, Mordred wasn't back to full health yet. If nothing else, he was still banned from coming within a hundred feet of either training field, much to his chagrin. But he was riding well under his own power, so Merlin gave himself permission to stop worrying over Mordred's physical state for the time being.

His mental state was another thing entirely. Mordred had returned from his last visit to Kara looking pale and shaken but with a resolute sadness to him that told Merlin he had made his peace. He would not tell Merlin what words had passed between them, and Merlin didn't press him on the matter. That pain would pass with time and Mordred needed to work through it alone. It was the rest of the damage Kara had done that worried Merlin.

Mordred had not spoken to Arthur before they left Camelot, had not even allowed Arthur to visit him and make sure that he was alright. He made clear over and over again that he would not stand to be near Camelot's king for fear of what might happen. No matter how many times Merlin said that Arthur didn't blame him, that Arthur wasn't afraid or worried, that it wasn't his fault and no one thought ill of him for it, Mordred would not be swayed. It seemed that he had given up all hope of thwarting the prophecies and given himself over to hopelessness instead.

That was about to stop.

The sun had set fully by the time Merlin reined Llamrei to a stop in a large clearing out of sight of the castle and dismounted. Mordred followed suit, glaring daggers at Merlin when he tried to offer him a hand. He got down on his own—rather less gracefully than usual but with all the dignity he could muster—and adjusted the sling on his right arm so it hung more comfortably. Then he looked around the clearing, searching for an explanation.

"Now are you going to tell me what we're here for?" he asked peevishly.

Merlin smirked. "This." He lifted his face to the sky and roared.

"O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"

Merlin had to laugh at the startled look on Mordred's face when he turned back to him. He had forgotten that Mordred had yet to hear him call a dragon before; he hadn't had much occasion to consult with Kilgharrah in an official capacity since their last battle in Camelot, and for personal conversations he preferred to come out to the woods alone.

"Good gods," Mordred said. "Is it always that loud?"

"Pretty much."

"Why did you bring me out here for this?"

Merlin just shook his head and looked up to the sky, waiting for the silhouettes to appear against the clouds. He didn't have to wait long. It wasn't more than a few minutes before the whoosh of wings resounded through the still night air and gusts of wind buffeted them back to the edge of the clearing.

Kilgharrah touched down first, his bulk sending a tremor through the ground despite his graceful landing. Aithusa, a bright smudge of white against the growing darkness of the night, soared over their heads and circled the clearing twice before finally gliding to a stop before them, spreading his wings wide and giving a full-body shake like a wet dog.

"Merlin!" he cried.

"Look at you!" Merlin said, smiling wide enough to make his cheeks hurt. Aithusa lifted his head high, giving off the aura of a very satisfied cat preening in a particularly warm sunbeam, and allowed Merlin to run hands over his scales. "Smooth, strong, and healthy. Just as you always should have been. You look fantastic."

"I know," Aithusa said simply, settling his wings primly along his sides.

"Vanity is unbecoming, young one," Kilgharrah said with all the disapproval he could muster.

It didn't phase Aithusa a bit. Without missing a beat, he responded, "So is jealousy, old one."

Merlin had to bite his fist to keep from laughing out loud; he had the feeling Kilgharrah might roast him on the spot if he did. As it was Kilgharrah was looking very sour indeed, but he only settled back on his haunches with a grouchy puff of smoke rather than blast anyone with fire. Aithusa looked to Merlin with something of a smile on his draconian face, mischief and humor in his bright eyes now where for so long there had been only pain and fear.

Something of the sad turn of his thoughts must have shown on Merlin's face for Aithusa nudged his snout into Merlin's stomach, the gesture as sweet and comforting as it had always been between them. Merlin chuckled and patted the smooth scales on his head. Aithusa looked up at him, his youth showing in the uncertain tilt of his head.

"How fared you in Camelot?" he asked. "You made it in time, didn't you?"

"I did."

"Arthur is safe?"

"He's fine. And I think he misses you," Merlin added.

Aithusa perked up for a moment at that, probably thinking of all the treats Arthur would lavish on him when next they saw each other. Then he shuffled his feet.

"And Sarrum?"

Merlin laid a reassuring hand on Aithusa's neck. "He's dead, Aithusa," he said softly. "I saw it myself. He will never harm you again, I promise you that."

Merlin had taken more pleasure in witnessing Sarrum's execution than he liked to admit. He had never been a big proponent of execution in general and he had made a point over the years of avoiding as many of them as he possibly could, but he had travelled across kingdoms to stand front and center for this one.

He wasn't the only one; even Gwen had gone and, where she usually turned away from such sights, she had watched the whole thing with an unforgiving look on her face that Merlin had never seen there before. She too had been sickened to hear of what Sarrum had done to Aithusa, to Morgana who had been her best friend for so many years. She had clutched Merlin's hand when the axe fell, but she hadn't looked away for a second.

Perhaps Merlin shouldn't celebrate a life lost, a life taken, but he could not help the feeling of relief to know the horrid man was gone from this world. There was nothing Merlin could do to make up for the wrongs he had done Morgana when she was alive, but at least he had seen to it that her torturer was brought to justice. With that, maybe Morgana's wayward spirit could rest a bit easier.

Aithusa would certainly sleep better at night. Even now his relief was a palpable force, the vicarious sensation of long fear lifting free sending a shiver down Merlin's spine. Aithusa leapt into the sky, roaring in triumph as he sailed through the air once more. He landed clumsily this time, sloppy in his giddiness, and nearly crashed right into Mordred still hovering half-hidden at the edge of the clearing.

"Mordred!" Aithusa said, both pleased and surprised. He had only seen Mordred a handful of times over the months in which they had both resided in Carthis. Mordred tended to avoid the Roosts, opting not to accompany Merlin there more often than not, for fear of running into the one who had first prophesied his villainy. Aithusa, on the other hand, had never shown any aversion to him. Now he bumped his head against Mordred's shoulder, playful as only one so young could be, but his new size meant it was still hard enough to nearly knock him off his feet.

"Careful, Aithusa," Merlin laughed. "He's injured. Be gentle with him."

Aithusa nuzzled Mordred's side more gingerly and Mordred patted his head, smiling helplessly.

Kilgharrah was not as taken with the show of affection. "Why have you brought him here?" he asked, his tone forbidding.

"Yes, Merlin, why exactly did you bring me here?" Mordred asked with a quaver in his voice, unable to look away from Kilgharrah but equally unable to meet the dragon's eye directly.

"I told you," Merlin said. "To prove a point."

"And what point is that?" Mordred snapped, wrong-footed and frustrated.

"That you're not a danger to Arthur."

A plume of flame burst from Kilgharrah's mouth, too small to actually reach any of them but enough to send Mordred reeling backward in shock and fear. He fell against Aithusa's side and the smaller dragon wrapped a wing around him protectively.

"What is the meaning of this?" Kilgharrah growled at Merlin, hackles raised. "The boy is dangerous. You have always known this!"

Merlin opened his mouth to argue, to defend Mordred's character and the fallibility of prophecy in general, but Aithusa spoke first.

"No, he isn't."

Everyone turned to look at him in surprise, Mordred included. Aithusa nudged Mordred back onto his feet and took up a place beside him, sitting on his haunches and curling his long tail around Mordred's feet. He looked up at the enraged Kilgharrah with no hint of fear.

"I sense no danger in him," Aithusa said. "I never have."

"The druid boy will be Arthur Pendragon's downfall," Kilgharrah insisted, pressing forward even though it was plain that his looming didn't intimidate Aithusa in the least. "It has always been his fate. That was Seen long ago."

"You are not the only one with the Sight, Elder," Aithusa countered, almost serene in his unconcern for Kilgharrah's righteous fury. "And it would seem that you and I have Seen very different things. Perhaps you should look again."

Kilgharrah looked almost affronted at the suggestion, at the very implication that he might be mistaken. He stared at Aithusa for a long time, looking more taken aback than Merlin had ever seen, and Merlin and Mordred exchanged a worried glance as they waited for him to react.

Finally, something in Aithusa's manner must have convinced him because he pulled back from his aggressive stance. He settled close to the ground and lowered his head, his long neck a graceful arch. His luminous gold eyes closed and he fell still and silent. Merlin wasn't sure how long he stayed that way; a wash of magic permeated the air around them, an intense and primal upwelling that somehow felt both calm and riotous at once, and Merlin floated in it, dazed, until Kilgharrah raised his head once more. His eyes, once opened, seemed to glow brighter than before.

"Curious," he said softly, almost to himself. "Very curious."

"Excuse me," Mordred said, Aithusa's warmth at his back giving him strength and courage, "but what's curious?"

Kilgharrah turned his gaze to Mordred again but this time he did not move to attack. He simply gazed at him through narrowed eyes, leaning down to peer more closely. Mordred did not back away, though Merlin did hear him swallow from halfway across the clearing. Kilgharrah did not answer Mordred's question. Instead he stood tall again and turned to Merlin.

"It seems that Fate is not as unmoving as it once was," he said, sounding more thoughtful than disgruntled about it.

Merlin's heart leapt in his chest. "Meaning?" he asked, needing the clarification, needing Kilgharrah to say it out loud where Mordred could hear.

"What once was foreseen is no longer so," the dragon intoned. "It would seem that the dark stain on Arthur's path has been washed away."

"The dark stain," Mordred said, breathless. "That...that's me?"

"No," Merlin said, rushing forward to take Mordred by the shoulders. "It was you. But not anymore."

"Not…" Mordred looked at him with bright eyes, not quite believing his words.

"Kilgharrah," Merlin called. He turned to look up at him, the one who had set them both on their paths so long ago. "Tell me plainly. Is it still Mordred's fate to end Arthur's life?"

Kilgharrah took his sweet time in answering, every empty second seeing Mordred tenser and tenser as he waited for judgment to be passed. Finally: "No."

Merlin's whoop of triumph echoed around the clearing, though it was soon drowned out by Aithusa's celebratory roar. Mordred seemed to be in shock, standing motionless even as Merlin clapped him on the back and gave him a shake.

"Do you hear that, Mordred?" Merlin asked. "Do you hear it? You're not a threat! You swore you would overcome your fate, and you did!"

"But...but how?" he asked weakly, wide-eyed and looking so terribly young in his fragile hope.

"The future is not immutable," Kilgharrah told him. "Very little is truly fixed. I believed your fate to be one such instance," he admitted, "but I have been proved wrong. Your fate is now your own."

"My own." Mordred swayed on his feet and Merlin reached out to steady him.

"Mordred," Merlin said, waiting until the young man looked at him. "Your life is yours to live. You make your own fate."

"I don't have to hurt Arthur," Mordred said, though it was so uncertain that it almost sounded like a question. Merlin nodded and Mordred said it again, more firmly. "I never have to hurt him. I'm not a danger. I'm not."

Tears fell, streaking Mordred's cheeks as he repeated it over and over again, and Merlin had to hold back tears of his own. He pulled Mordred into a hug, squeezing the boy as tightly as he dared for fear of agitating his healing injuries. Mordred hugged him back with his good arm and began to laugh, helpless in his relief and his joy. He laughed even when Aithusa jostled them hard enough to send them both to the ground. Merlin laughed with him and when he looked up, even Kilgharrah seemed to be smiling down at them.

"You have been given a second chance, little Druid," the dragon said. "Few are so lucky. See that you use it wisely."

"I will," Mordred said, pushing himself to his feet to face Kilgharrah squarely. "I swear to you now that I will."

Kilgharrah reared up, spreading his wings wide. "Look forward with hope in your hearts," he said. "Perhaps this is the beginning of a new era."

He leapt into the air without waiting for a reply, the treetops swaying in his wake. The downdraft of his first wingbeat made Mordred stumble, but a second gust from behind set him straight again. Aithusa circled Mordred twice, cutting through the air on nimble wings and coming to hover in the air before him.

"A new day is dawning," he said. "For all of us."

Mordred laughed against, free and uninhibited, as Aithusa's flame chased the darkness from the skies.

Well, folks. That's it for Part II. This one went by a hell of a lot faster than the last one did, that's for sure. Maybe that's why writing the ending of this one was so much harder - I didn't want it to end just yet, even though this particular part of the story was over. But all good things must come to an end, for if they did then there would never be any more beginnings.

Did I mention that I'm writing a third one? Because I am. I've already started work on plotting out the next installment (again, I can't make guarantees as to when the actual production will begin, but it will happen) and I'm looking forward to the challenge. Yes, there will be romance. Yes, there will be baby dragons. Aside from that, it's all still a little up in the air, lol.

Also, I am going to write a one-shot about Raime's dragon ride. So keep an eye out for that sometime in the probably-near future.

As always, so many thanks go out to all you lovely wonderful reviewers whom I love so very much. You guys keep me going. You're the best.