A/N: What's up guys? So, I know, a new fanfiction. But this is a oneshot...I think. This is a look at the "two sides of the same coin" from a slightly different angle. I hope you guys enjoy this, and if you like it, then please check out my profile and my latest fanfiction "Vision of Happiness" which is also for Merlin. Also, loved it or hated it, please let me know what you think!

And now, without further ado, our story.

Magic was dying. But if magic died, so would everything else.

A child gasped, breathing in water. Magic died.

A woman screamed as the fires licked at her feet. Magic died.

A man grit his teeth before the axe fell on his bare neck. Magic died.

Wonder was dying. Beauty was dying. Strength was dying. Magic was dying. So Fate held out her hand to Magic. She would stop the death. She would stop the hatred of the bereft king. She would stop the persecution, the torment, the suffering. It would take time, but it would be worth it.

So Fate pulled the dying Magic into her arms. She would do something extraordinary. Something legendary. Something memorable. Something immortal.

She found two she loved; two dear to her heart; two who would suffer greatly at the hands of the grieving king. She chose her beloved Dragonlord, strongest of his kin. He stood tall, this master of creatures of fire and air. He loved his magic and his kin. He would pass on an iron-will to his child, a courage that would be unrivaled. Then she chose a simple woman, but one blessed with a heart of gold. Kindness, goodness, innocence: they shown from the woman's soul, bright and beautiful against the darkness. She would pass love onto her child, a giving heart that would keep her babe firmly entrenched in light, no matter the shadows he hid in.

These two loved each other with a simple, gorgeous, passionate love. And from their love, Fate knit a body deep in the woman's womb for Magic. She placed Magic in the tiny body. This child would be extraordinary. This child would be legendary. This child would be memorable. This child would be Emrys: immortal.

Fate whispered in the ear of Prophecy, who whispered in the ears of her seer children. Emrys was coming. Emrys would bring back Magic. Emrys was Magic. But Fate whispered more into Prophecy's ear. Emrys couldn't do it alone.

He would need a purpose. He would wield more power than any other man to walk the earth. He would need a reason for it. He needed someone to love, someone to ground him, someone more important than anything to keep him in the light. Someone he could believe in and look up to. Someone bigger than him. Someone he could serve, support, stand beside. Someone to challenge him. But he also need someone to show him goodness. Someone to show him love in return. Someone to show him courage. Someone to show him the meaning of sacrifice, duty, and honor. Someone he could fall back on. Someone he could trust.

He needed a purpose. He needed a leader. A master. A friend. A brother.

He needed a King.

So Fate looked for her king. And her eye fell upon the him. She smiled to herself at the irony. The child born of Magic's aid. The child who started it all. The child of the grieving king. The fiery blond prince who would rise to the throne. The white dragon-child. He would do nicely.

She spun the golden cords of brotherhood, the soul-ties that bound beyond blood, and wrapped them around the heart of Emrys. Stringing the cord along, she bound it to the heart of the prince. She frowned. The prince's heart was large, soft to the touch, yearning for love yet giving it so freely to his family, friends, and even to his people. She sighed. His heart was so pure, so trusting. It would be his downfall. And yet...she had to brush aside walls of stone before she could bind the cord to his tender heart. They were slowly rising, slowly surrounding the fragile heart. Tears rose in the eyes of Fate. The hatred of the broken, grieving king had already infected the princeling. The walls would continue to rise. But Fate smiled through her tears. It seemed her princeling king needed Emrys as much as Emrys needed him. Emrys would break the walls, bring the tender heart back into the sunlight.

Fate took her Magic-child and her Dragon Prince-child, and she forged them in her furnace. She burnished them in hope, love, strength, honor, and loyalty. They shone bright, a golden coin of two sides. She placed them in their homes, one of poor, lowly descent, fatherless, but oh so full of love, and one of high, royal descent, motherless, and oh so destitute of love. Then she paused. She groaned. How could she have not seen!

Emrys was immortal, but his elder brother was not. She sighed. Her two tender hearts would be torn asunder should Death snip the cords of their brotherhood. They would find no peace, neither in life, nor in death, should they be separated. They would be incomplete. Two halves of one whole. They would be destroyed, useless, without the other. She sighed heavily, thinking. She could not make the Dragon Prince immortal. But she could do the next best thing.

She bound him to her spindle, the spinning wheel of Destiny. And she whispered in Prophecy's ear: the king of present and future, the king of myth and prophecy. The king of Once and Future.

She sat back with a smile. Emrys and his Once and Future King. They would be a legendary combination. She spun the blood-red threads of Destiny, burdened them with glorious purpose. And she sat back and watched at her two tender hearts, her two soul-brothers. They would be extraordinary. They would be legendary. They would be memorable. They would be immortal.

In Ealdor, a baby gave his first cry. In Camelot, a prince gasped awake, believing for one moment he could see a golden cord stringing from his heart. He shook his tiny, white-blond head and fell back asleep.

Fate smiled.