A/N: We were all thinking it. I was just the one to write it down.

Some of the text is taken directly from the finale and assorted moments throughout the series. I don't own Merlin. This is a fix-it fic so of course part of it had to come directly from the series. It starts where things began to go really wrong at the end when Kilgharrah begins spouting baloney on the shores of Avalon. I don't own Merlin.

Heartfelt thanks to farmgirl who took the time to help me out on a few tough spots. She's awesome!

I'll say it again: I don't own Merlin!

...

Destiny Rewritten

Kilgharrah and the heavens watched as Merlin, exhausted and desperate, dragged his dying king toward the boat that bobbed patiently in the water. Apparently, the young warlock still had hope that the cruel Sidhe would somehow take pity on them and use their power to heal the Pendragon despite their antipathy for the whole Pendragon line, not to mention their grudges against Emrys himself. Despite his experience in the Crystal Cave, the young man still underestimated his abilities. The dragon shook his head. Merlin had developed an unfortunate tendency to overthink things and tamp down his instinctual use of magic.

"Merlin, There is nothing you can do."

The young man stopped struggling and looked up, despairing.

"I've failed?"

The agony filling the bond between the dragon and his Lord almost brought the dragon to his knees despite his stoicism and flinty heart.

"No, for all that you dreamt of building has come to pass."

Merlin shook his head as he glanced down and struggled to maintain a grip on his heavy armor clad king.

"I can't lose him! He's my friend!"

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

"No."

The dragon stopped and narrowed his eyes at the interruption. Merlin carefully lowered his friend to the ground and glared up at the dragon.

"That's not true at all."

"He will rise again," insisted the dragon.

"Not that part. I don't mean that part," Merlin returned irritatedly.

"What are you saying, Merlin?"

"You said all I've dreamt of building has come to pass." The young man's voice rose in pitch as he yelled, "All I've dreamt of has barely even gotten started! Almost none of the prophecy has come to pass! What about uniting Albion? What of returning magic to the land?"

The dragon eyed him calculatingly. "Trust in his Destiny, Merlin. He will return."

"Stop patronizing me! It was supposed to happen now!"

"Merlin, it's too late."

"Stop saying that!"

Thunder cracked. Rage was building, the dragon could see it in the warlock's countenance and feel the magic beginning to boil breath the surface. Wind kicked up. The waters of Avalon stirred.

"The Sidhe will not help you. You know this."

Merlin shook his head violently. "Stop it!"

Kilgharrah focused his thoughts on those passing through the young warlock's mind, unashamedly filtering through them. It seemed to be a blur of memories.

Your gift, Merlin, was given to you for a reason.

Without you Arthur will never succeed. Without you there will be no Albion.

"Merlin, let him go."

Merlin planted his feet and clenched his fists. "No."

Kilgharrah delved deeper into the young warlock's thoughts.

You never cease to amaze me.

What I've seen you do is elemental, instinctive.

"Merlin," began Kilgharrah, "the will of the gods.."

"..be damned!"

The waters of Avalon and the surrounding trees thrashed while the sky churned with fast gathering black clouds.

It's fatal power will not easily be denied.

Neither. Will. Mine.

"Merlin, you cannot overcome Destiny's path," Kilgharrah warned.

"Watch me," he retorted fiercely.

"Who do you think you are?" snarled the dragon.

You're nothing but a serving boy!

I am the last Dragonlord.

Your journey has only just begun. You wield a power you cannot yet conceive of...

So it's you! You're Emrys.

Merlin stilled in the center of the chaos and almost smiled.

"I am the Last Dragonlord. And I. Am. Emrys."

He threw back his head and thrust his hands in the direction of Arthur's still form, willing his magic to combine with the ancient power of the Dragonlords. Beside him, the Great Dragon roared and clawed the earth as a power stronger than he had ever imagined began to build, but Merlin paid him no mind. Taut and straining, the young warlock commanded the evil shard of the dragon-forged blade that was only the barest moment away from piercing his friend's heart, ordered it to obey. His magic fought against the inexorable pull of the blade's destiny, but with a final burst of power – like the birth of a new star – Merlin's eyes blazed white hot. Arthur arched his back and screamed but then slumped back into unconsciousness as the shard evaporated, destroyed in the war between its destined path and Merlin's will.

The warlock dropped bonelessly beside his king. The whipping winds and water calmed. The only sound was that of small waves lapping against the gently bobbing boat.

Kilgharrah panted from the exertion of withstanding the pull of Merlin's command even though it had not been directed at him. He looked up as Aithusa came barrelling through the sky to clumsily tumble and land beside him, her deformed body heaving deep breaths. She could never have withstood such a summons either.

"He's done it, then," said a sweet voice.

The dragon looked over at the shimmering woman with flowing white locks and sparkling golden eyes who crouched between the two fallen men. At his silence, she looked up even as she seemed to be intently studying the face of the king and also simultaneously gazing tenderly at Merlin and running her fingers soothingly through his hair.

"You played well your part, Kilgharrah, I thank you."

"Provoking deep feeling in him is not difficult, my Lady."

She turned all of herself to Merlin and laughed lightly. "Such spirit."

"Such disrespect," intoned the dragon with a questioning glint in his eye.

"Indignation and anger are not disrespectful and his unique choice of words is always entertaining."

"You favor him," stated the dragon.

"I do. How could I not? You admit fondness for him as well."

Kilgharrah let out a small snort of acknowledgement and almost sympathetically scrutinized Merlin. "Was it necessary that he endure so much?"

"You ask such a question? You bear responsibility for a portion of his suffering."

The dragon had the grace to bow his head and look ashamed.

"Peace, Kilgharrah. You know as well as any that sacrifice is the path to greatness. Arthur will bring magic back to the land and Albion will be united as long as he lives. The long years afterward will bring the decline of magic in the land and Merlin will now be strong enough to withstand that as he awaits the return of his king."

"Then, Arthur will still return when Albion's need is greatest."

"Of course. That future is now certain." The Goddess looked past Kilgharrah and gently called, "Aithusa." The small dragon approached timidly. "Your time of darkness has passed, little one." She laid her hand gently on the young dragon's head and a sudden brightness engulfed Aithusa's form. When the light faded, Aithusa stood tall, perfectly healthy and radiantly pearlescent.

The white dragon chirped hopefully.

"Fear not," the goddess responded with a tinkling laugh. "The power of speech will come to you, but you must learn it from your Lord."

The dragons bowed respectfully and, sensing her imminent departure, the Great Dragon spoke his farewell, "Until we meet again, My Lady."

"It will not be long, I think, my child."

Her words echoed into nothingness and when the dragons raised their heads the Triple Goddess had gone.

With a weary sigh, Kilgharrah stepped forward and curled himself protectively around the two sleeping men and settled down to wait while Aithusa skillfully leapt into the air and, with a shriek of joy, playfully looped and swooped about in the blue sky above them.

Another note: Did Kilgharrah seem rather altruistic? Strange, no? Keep reading!