Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin!

Pairings: none

The story will be sectionned into two parts: one with Merlin and the other with Kilgharrah generally told by Gwaine's point of vue.

Chapter 1 : Situation initiale et élément déclencheur

This isn't how he thought they'd meet- truth be told he'd only toyed with the idea before squashing it completely- but, if they had to meet, it should have been in a dire situation filled with blood gore and blazing fire and fury.

This was far too innocent to be real.

Or maybe he should just admit it was far too surreal. It must have been seeing as this was coming from a man who battled anything ranging from your typical witch to griffins and ghost for god's sake!

Really the man was so blasé about it all that it made him slightly skeptical about believing what he'd heard.

At his blank face, the knight had explained the events of three nights ago in full, if embellished, details.

The description of the one he knew was spot on, so he wasn't simply pulling a story out of his arse…

He heard it all and took it all in. Nodded once or twice as the man excitably gesticulated to emphasize some of the actions that transpired during the night but he was still stuck on the first words that began this whole tale.

He just couldn't wrap his head around the simple sentence that stumbled from his friend's lips after a few drinks at the tavern.

He'd agreed into meeting him at the Rising Sun, and sat down at secluded spot near the fire, away from the drunken patrons and the loud noises, that bordered more on slur, and yet still part of the cheery atmosphere.

Merlin no longer felt particularly cheery, so he held a hand up, in the universal sign of "wait a moment", and lowered it once he got his friend's attention.

"What's wrong mate?" Gwaine asked, puzzled.

The aforementioned mate clung to his tankard of mead as if it were a life line.

"You spoke to a dragon," he whispered, his voice slightly strangled.

The brown haired man furrowed his brow and sipped his own drink, assessing the man in front of him.

He looked…afraid? No not quite, disbelieving maybe…? Nigh hysterical?

Everything considered the young man with the twitching eye was probably a mixture of all those things and beyond. He hid it well to the untrained eye and to someone not well versed in Merlin's mannerisms.

The man tilted his head, his chin resting comfortably on his knuckles while his elbow held up the weight.

His lips upturned and he drawled in a teasing manner, "I'm hurt Merlin, you're usually a good listener…"

Brown irises flicked towards his friends knuckles, slowly turning whiter from the strength exerted on the tankard.

"You met a dragon…and spoke to it," he almost applauded and actually appreciated Merlin's self-control: he genuinely sounded detached.

"I didn't think it was so hard to believe Merlin, you meet him quite often don't you?" The statement oozed of false innocence, back up by a polished charming smile.

He closed his eyes and inhaled the sweat perfumed smell of the bar and the sweet scent of alcohol and his smile widened as he heard his friend choke and splutter.

He was probably enjoying this too much and he understood the whole secrecy thing Merlin had going on but his ego was wounded and revenge was sweet.

He knew no one would consider him a confidant but he'd hope the younger man would give him at least the benefit of the doubt.

It didn't matter now though, he knew and he'd prove he could help the other out.

Taking a swig and clanking it down on the battered table, he patted the brown fabric covered shoulder sympathetically.

The King's servant blinked owlishly and said, "How did you…When did you…Oh god," not his brightness moment, Merlin would think latter, when he told the story to Gaius.

"Like I said mate, it went like this…"

Gwaine stared at the starlit sky as a shadow quickly flew under the moon's gaze. He was a reasonable man and he would never drink too much at the tavern the night before going on a patrol. He did it once and his stomach, while made of iron on most days, could not tolerate the uneven road while riding a horse.

So here he was, neck craning at the sky with his jaw hanging low and his pupils dilated, in the middle of the road and surrounded by modest dwellings.

The knight was sober, and he'd seen that particular shape over the sky a few times before. He had dismissed it several times before, thinking he had a bit more to drink than he'd thought.

Now though, he had definite proof that he wasn't as plastered as he though.

It always went to the same area and he could practically see its wings beating with an unheard rhythm, as it gracefully tilted its body for a landing.

Gwaine bounced on his feet and darted off towards the forest, curious and over excited.

He'd heard the tale of the Great Dragon sealed underneath Camelot, how it was slain valiantly by the, then, Prince.

"Not so dead after all, is it Princess?" he muttered under his breath, as it hitched in his growing laughter.

He followed the shadow and ran towards the direction the animals were keen on getting away from, jumping over bushes and forgetting stealth, as he cut offending tree branches that encumbered his path.

He held his sword and swiftly brought it down in an arc and stopped mid swing when the wind carried a muffled conversation. The man's lips thinned and crouched low, covering the distance to the area where the dragon landed slowly.

Discreetly, the man peered over a bush and paled at the sight as he heard the end of the exchange.

"-If you could find anything about the coven, their location or anything really, let me know."

He couldn't believe that all this effort would be rewarded with glorious gleaming bronze scales and the sight of pale skin and dark hair he could distinguish in a crowd easily.

The creature's majestic wings were elegantly folded on its back and unearthly golden suns stared back at him briefly, before tilting its head in an acquiescing manner towards the younger man.

The knight slowly lowered himself and hid himself under the foliage around him. He squashed every one of his instincts to jump out there and shake his friend senseless while shouting about how much of an idiot he was for even being near a dragon.

Gritting his teeth he forced himself to think rationally. What did that say about Merlin?

One: He was either insane or brilliant.

"What do you mean insane? I've known Kilgharrah for a long time, I wasn't running into danger!"

"Mate, the way I see it, you are insane. Last I heard that dragon was supposed to be dead and he nearly killed you in a fit of fury!"

"He was angry at Uther…and probably a bit over excited at the time, what with earning his freedom and everything. Can you blame him? He was stuck underground for twenty or so years!"

"I can understand and appreciate a good brawl once and a while, but isn't It counterproductive to try to kill your savior and the man who's destined to bring magic back to the land?"

Merlin stared at his tankard and his eyes hooded slightly before whispering, "Anger makes you forget and makes you act in ways you would not normally do."

Gwaine closed his eyes, sipping his alcohol and nodded somberly before continuing his story.

Two: he was chummy with a dragon.

Three: it was a mutual friendship.

Four: Merlin was asking the dragon to help with their monthly witch problem, which the latter accepted.

He really wasn't kidding with the monthly thing, he mused. It had started three months ago, and now Arthur had long since lost his patience with the coven.

It had started with simple mischief that even he could appreciate; the royal had warned them to stop, for he did not want to hunt them like his late father, but it soon escalated to summoning mythical creatures in the lower towns and cursing farmer's fields. It had left him with no choice but to search and kill those who harmed Camelot's citizens.

He shook his head and combined all of his findings.

Conclusion: Merlin was a Dragonlord whose loyalty lay with Camelot.

Gwaine waited till he could no longer hear the receding footsteps of the Dragonlord before confronting the overgrown lizard.

The dragon's eyes shone with ancient wisdom and seemed to be looking directly at his soul.

He drank in the sight and couldn't believe Uther had stripped it of its freedom. It seemed almost blasphemous to take him away from the soft wind, earthly scent and swaying leaves that shone white under the moon.

"Sir Strength," it stated and sounded a touch amused at the awestruck man. Gwaine's sword arm twitched and almost heaved his weapon in a defensive position when the dragon had opened his mouth. As it was he nearly dropped it from his surprise when he'd seen its lips curve to speak.

"Bloody hell, you can talk…" He whispered.

"I am capable of many things, young knight and it aids me to accomplish my many purposes. I wonder, what are yours? "Its voice thundered in the silent clearing, despite its calm qualities.

The dragon stretched and eventually laid his head on his forelegs, as it seemed like the knight would not answer in the near future. It waited in infinite patience as the man gathered his wits.

"I was honestly only curious," the human eventually confessed, "How are you alive? I though the King killed you," he asked, forgetting all his previous mesmerized behaviour.

The creature closed its eyes thoughtfully as if weighing its options, a ghost of a smile playing at his rough lips.

"Why should I indulge your curiosity and how does this knowledge benefit you?" The animal's eyes creased into slits.

The knight plopped on the ground and leaned on his hands, fingers spread on top of blades of grass. He grinned and responded genially, "You don't have to really, and as I've said before, I'm but a curious man." He shrugged," If you don't answer though, it pegs the question of why you're even staying here chatting with me."

The dragon closed its eyes and threw his head back, a booming laughter tearing from his throat.

"Well played Sir Knight," the creature said once he regained his composure. Once again closing his eyes the dragon spoke, "The young king could not kill me, the power laid within another's," his factual tone morphed into a warm one as he went on, "I live because of the clemency of a great man."

"A great man…"Gwaine whispered and then smiled, putting two and two together, "Merlin really is one of a kind isn't he?"

"The young Dragonlord is many things, Strength, but it does not mean he does not need allies," the dragon stated sharply while critically analyzing every movement the knight made.

Gwaine understood the entendre and roguishly smiled, "Of course, which is exactly why I was wondering if I could be of any help with our witchy gatherings?" The once wanderer stood, crossed his arms against his chest and stared defiantly at the wise beast, his brown eyes stating clearly he would not accept anything but consent.

"Your aid is unnecessary, the information the young one seeks will be easily found," all-knowing eyes closed as his voice grew into a clip no nonsense voice.

"And that is the problem! The only thing you will give him is information! He will have to ride out with us and risk his life, again!" Gwaine cried out and pointed accusingly at the dragon's snout, "Merlin's exhausted, he constantly looks tired- and don't tell me you couldn't see the bruises under his eyes you damned lizard- and you just want to send him there!?"

The silence of the night was broken only by the soft panting of the brown haired swordsman, anger coiling around his frame as he continued to stare into the appraising eyes of the quadruped .

"Merlin is far more capable to fend for himself that you give him credit," the beast's snout closed into his personal space, and glared at him looking slightly offended for the servant's sake.

"Whether he can whoop some arse himself isn't the question here, it's helping him take a load of his shoulders," the human grounded out taking a step forward so his face was but a short distance from the glowing irises.

Black pupils shifted and constricted slightly, "Thread carefully human," great breaths of air puffed on the knight as it uttered its words.

The dragon slowly changed his position and stood regally above the man.

"Well?" Gwaine asked craning his head upwards, refusing to back down.

"I am assuming you have already concocted a plan?" a soft scaly smile tugged at the beast's lips.

"Of course," he beamed, "though it might require a bit of magic on your part," he finished while wriggling his fingers at the word magic.

Gwaine could have sworn the old dragon was barely suppressing a sigh but he couldn't be too sure as said creature interrupted him and asked him to elaborate.

"Was it really necessary to use that," Merlin emphasised on the word, that, while making a swing motion with his hand, probably to mimic a magical action.

"It had to be – nay- it was imperative for it to be done!" he leaned over to the warlock, his nose almost brushing against the other's, his eyes mockingly serious.

"I get it, I get it!" exclaimed the servant, his unruly mop of hair swaying with the motions of his head as he exasperatingly pushed Gwaine's face away from him.

Merlin hid his growing smile with the rim of his mug and before taking a sip asked, "What did he look like?"

Before the knight stood a man that oozed elegance and screamed noble. His skin glowed ethereally under the night sky and his hair flowed past his shoulder in bronze rivulets.

His slanted eyes though not quite golden, took on a human amber hue. One eyebrow rose- which oddly expresses more emotion than the new human's eye's could – in question.

Gwaine collected his jaw and blinked out his stupor. He nodded to himself and gave his verdict to the dragon, "You might want to dim all the light pouring out of you...human's don't tend to glow," then he laughed and pushed his hair out of his face, "you could also do with looking less...arrogant, you look like the Princess!"

"Did he really look like Arthur?" Black eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Not physically, but he had this aura, I guess, that commanded respect," Merlin's jaw slightly slacked and made his mentor proud with the height his eyebrows rose.

"I'm not saying Arthur has that air around him but he has his moments and –don't look at me like that, I'm not praising him-" Gwaine sighed audibly and masked his embarrassment with a lazy grin, " They both basically scream –I'm not a commoner!- that's all there is to it."

"Can't really argue with that logic," the corners of his eyes crinkled in the corners, looking far too amused and indulgent to his liking.

"You know, I think Kilgharrah has a questionable sense of humour," the bearded man mused suddenly.

"Maybe it's your humour that's odd, ever thought of that?"

"Never," he said bluntly and then paused, as if truly contemplating this issue, "If it was weird then, why do I always make you laugh," he asked rhetorically, shaking his head he appealed to Merlin, "How can one not laugh at Arthur's nickname?"

At the furrowing brow of the magical being, he quickly explained that Princess was his pet name for the King of Camelot. To his credit, Kilgharrah didn't even bat an eyelash and simply nodded.

"Well now that this is settled, meet me here tomorrow at dawn, I'll get provisions and tell Arthur I got wind of some information and take leave to affirm its authenticity," He paused and glanced up and down at the being before him and mumbled, "Should probably get some clothes...or not," he concluded as he saw the dragon form a simple pair of clothing, much like his own.

Lifting his chin he grinned at the taller man-dragon, "Since you seem honourable and all, I don't need to tell you not to ditch me eh?"

"Do not presume to know me Sir Knight," the long haired man reprimanded, frowning.

Laughing the real human held up his hand in a placating gesture and quickly lowered his left hand while he extended the other towards the wrinkleless face.

"I'm Sir Gwaine of Camelot, Knight of the Round Table and friend of Merlin," he stated not bothering to hide the fraternal warmth at the mention of the Dragonlord.

Slowly a muscled arm rose upwards to claps Strength's hand.

"I am Kilgharrah, kin of Merlin."

Releasing the hand shake, Gwaine grinned," Well Kilgharrah, can you sense the direction of the witches?"

Closing his pale lids, the man lifted his head to the starlit skies and inhaled.

The wind waltzed and whispered around the dragon, tree branches swayed and their leaves seemed to sing to the creature as they too twirled around him.

Briefly Gwaine shifted from side to side and wondered why it was that even standing still he didn't look like a human, what was the point of the disguise if he didn't even look the part!

As the wind turned into a soft breeze and the leaves fluttered to the ground, the being tilted his head to the side, watching in his peripheral vision the incarnation of impatience.

"So?"He heard the drawl to his left.

"It would seem there is a web tying Camelot to an area east from here," the dragon's lips twitched downwards.

"Near the Kingdom of Essetir or perhaps in the forest of Ascetir..." he lifted one of his hand to his beard in contemplation, "Wait did you say a web?"

Sharp fangs could be seen as he spoke to reply, "They concentrate to several areas in the city and permit the magic to spread like a malady."

Blinking, the man candidly said, "This is way too cryptic for me, mind being straightforward?"

With a flat look and finally turning his head towards the source of the scrapping, he uttered one word, "Vessel."

Pursing his lips and looking at his scuffing boot, he concentrated and shortly looked up with an unparallel clarity, "I have no idea what you're talking about," he finished proudly.

The dragon looked upon the man with widening eyes and slightly parted lips. Perhaps, he should simply stick to talk enigmatically to Merlin.

"It simply means the coven has placed several objects to lure the creature and curse the land, in order to maintain the spell."

A brown head bobbed in comprehension, "See, clear-cut saves time, maybe you should try that with Merlin sometimes," and with that parting advice, Gwaine bid his ally goodnight.

"He really agreed to that plan?" the Dragonlord's voice was skeptical at best, "He agreed to storm into a coven -with you- to destroy it."

Seeking crystal blue eyes, the reckless man pouted, "It was full proof!" At the narrowing eyes, he quickly amended, " Almost...but it worked out great in the end didn't it?"

"If by great you mean a vengeful witch and multiple stitches on your chest, then yes you're right!" Merlin rolled his eyes and deflated, lowering his eyes to the table, "Just a little deeper and it would have pierced your heart Gwaine..."

A calloused hand unconsciously touched his chest, right above his heart, feeling the steady pumping of his life. "But I'm alive aren't I," he stated, staring at the younger man with thankful eyes, which successfully managed to extract a smile and a flush of embarrassment from the other.

"Can I get you anything else?" Both man looked up at the barmaid as she waited smiling dutifully and then down at their now empty tankards.

"Well how about a pint of ale for me and my friend here," he smiled alluringly at the woman, earning his a giggle.

"Coming right up, sweetie" she said winking at Merlin as she left to tend to the other patrons.

Turning to each other again, after a round of teasing from his friend, Merlin prompted, "So three days?"

This came to me while musing of other ways Gwaine and Kilgharrah could have met and interacted, it grew from there and this popped out. Now that I think about it, there aren't too many ways for their meeting to happen or maybe there are and I'm just to unoriginal but I digress...

Leave me a review so you can tell me what you thought about it and sorry for any mistake you found and I hoped you enjoyed it!