Their journey was a brief one. After all, they were not far from the castle, and dragons travel faster than any beast alive. He circled lazily in the sky for a moment or two, and Merlin leaned out to survey the damage to the citadel. It was severe, but certainly not irreparable. Then he looked to the west. An army was camped on the fields there. But it was not Morgana's army.

"Who's that?" he shouted to the dragon.

"Godwyn," the dragon said. "His men came last night, along with soldiers from Olaf's kingdom. They helped the knights of Camelot to tear through Morgana's troops in the darkness as they made to attack. They've fled back to their kingdom, licking their wounds. It would appear that many men will march to Arthur's banner when he is in need."

Merlin smiled. "So it would seem."

Satisfied he had enough attention from below, the dragon dropped slowly down, managing to land in the courtyard without either damaging anything, or getting too close to the hole, which he regarded dolefully. Before Merlin could stop him, he breathed a great cloud of fire in its direction, and like an iron cauterizing a wound, the heat melted the rocks and sealed the hole, forever.

But, as was to be expected, the conflagration rather put the courtyard in a panic, and people screamed, running for cover, as the knights and guards formed a defensive perimeter around the dragon and its rider.

"Do you think that was wise?" Merlin sighed.

"It was necessary," the dragon said quietly. "Necessary and wise are not always the same thing."

"Easy," Merlin calmed him with a hand, as the knights came closer brandishing weapons. They stopped short of attacking, probably because they'd spotted Merlin perched on the dragon's neck, and probably also because the dragon himself was making no further aggressive moves.

Then there was movement at the main castle entrance, and Arthur appeared at the top of the steps, Gwen by his side. Gwaine was there as well, and Leon, Lancelot, and many of the other knights, along with Godwyn and others he recognised. It was quite a crowd.

The dragon lowered his head so that Merlin could slide off, which he did, his knees almost buckling as the impact sent unbelievable pain firing through his injuries. He put a hand on the dragon's neck to steady himself, knowing the import of this moment. Knowing he couldn't be weak.

"Good luck," the dragon murmured, raising his head as Merlin took his hand away. He didn't respond.

Instead, he moved forward towards Arthur, who was coming down the steps towards him. His head was swathed in bandages, he was limping, and he looked pale. But he was on his feet, and walking unaided.

"Merlin!" he cried. "Where have you been? We've been worried about you. Why did you just disappear off in the night like that?"

He stopped on the bottom step as Merlin came up to him. The wizard glanced around at the others, seeing their concern. He felt a stab of guilt, but let it pass quickly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I had things to do."

"So I can see," Arthur said, looking over his shoulder towards the dragon. Then he looked Merlin in the eyes, which Merlin found a bit weird, until he realised that Arthur was looking at his eyes. Of course, he'd been blind the last time they'd seen each other.

But before the king could do or say anything else, Merlin did something quite unexpected. He went down on his knees. He winced a bit as he did it, and wished suddenly that he'd allowed the dragon to heal him after all. Martyred pain was all well and good, but it was also inconvenient.

"What the hell are you doing?" Arthur asked him quietly.

Merlin looked up at him. "Arthur Pendragon," he said, his voice carrying. "I Merlin of Ealdor, son of Balinor and Hunith, do swear my allegiance to you. To you I also submit my rightful powers as warlock and sole surviving dragon lord. I will serve you faithfully from this day until the day you die. May those here present bear witness."

To say Arthur was shocked would be an understatement, but to his credit, he recovered reasonably quickly, and seemed to realise what Merlin was doing. He placed his hands on his head.

"I Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, son of Uther and Ygraine, do accept your service, and declare you a free man of this kingdom. From this day, you shall serve as my personal councillor – and…" he seemed to be searching for a term. "Sorcerer to the court?" he tried.

Merlin smiled up at him. "Yes, that will do nicely," he said quietly, and leaned forward to kiss Arthur's hand as a sign of fealty. But Arthur snatched it away.

"Get up you idiot," he said, offering Merlin the hand instead. Merlin smiled and took it, people cheered and clapped. Gwaine looked like his grin was about to split his face.

But then Merlin leaned in closer to Arthur and said quietly. "You know," he said. "It would be extremely difficult to perform duties as a court sorcerer in a kingdom where sorcery is forbidden."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Oh, for the love of… alright," he said, and held up his hand to silence the crowd. "I do declare," he commanded. "That from this day, sorcery shall no longer be deemed a crime in itself in this kingdom." There was another surprisingly hearty cheer. Arthur held up his hand again. "Magic used for dark purposes will of course still be punishable," he said. "But it will be important to teach the young the differences between right and wrong in such matters. I would therefore like to found a school of sorcery here in Camelot, so that all may receive the wisdom that my friend here has shown in such abundance."

Another cheer went up.

"School?" Merlin asked under cover of the cheering.

"Spur of the moment thing," Arthur said with a smile.

"Oh," Merlin responded, then looked around feeling a glow spread through him suddenly, feeling the ache of Gaius' death start to recede just a little, just enough to let fingers of joy in. He wished his uncle could have seen this.

Gwen and Gwaine, Lancelot and all the others came down the steps to congratulate him and hug him and ask if he was alright, until he was really quite overwhelmed. After all, he hadn't come here to be praised. He'd come to put in motion the final pieces of his journey with Arthur.

Eventually, he managed to get the king to himself. He pulled him to the side and said in his ear: "Fancy seeing Camelot from the sky?"

Arthur looked at him, then at the dragon, which was sitting patiently in the middle of the courtyard while the guards hovered nervously, unsure what to do about it.

"You're kidding, right?" Arthur said.

Merlin leaned in closer. "Don't be such a big girl's blouse," he said.

Arthur pulled a face, clearly vulnerable to that particular jibe, and pulled his gloves up firmly with a tug. He turned to walk towards the dragon, with Merlin, smiling, at his side, as the rest of the courtyard looked on.

Then Merlin stopped. "I'll just be a moment," he said, turning and leaving Arthur suddenly, walking away back over to where the others were standing.

That left Arthur on his own. With the dragon.

The King followed Merlin with his eyes for a moment, as he moved off in Gwaine's direction and began talking earnestly to the knight. Then he turned back and stared at the beast in front of him. It regarded him back.

Arthur smiled, in what he hoped was a disarming manner, before realising that was a fairly ridiculous notion. Then continued the theme anyway by saying: "Hi!"

The dragon just stared at him. Arthur swallowed uncomfortably. The last time they'd been eyeball to eyeball like this, the dragon had been trying to kill him. But it looked fairly placid now. Then he remembered something else about their last meeting.

"Um – look," he said, reasonably quietly. No point in looking foolish in front of everyone, but he felt like he couldn't just stand there saying nothing. "Sorry about the whole, stabbing you in the chest thing," he went on, poking his finger up at the dragon as though it were a spear.

The dragon narrowed its eyes slightly, then bowed its head. "That is quite alright, young Pendragon," it said.

Arthur jumped about a foot in the air when it actually spoke. That he hadn't been expecting.

The dragon put his head down lower towards the King, prompting an increase in the level of tension from the nearby guards and knights. A few swords were drawn.

The dragon ignored them, its attention on Arthur. "But it did ache for a week afterwards."

"Oh," Arthur fought back the stab of fear he felt at having that head and those teeth quite so close to him. But Merlin had been sitting on the damn thing. It must be at least reasonably tame. "Um – well," he went on. "You were trying to set fire to me."

Kilgarrah smiled. "You fought well," he said. "And now you have come into your kingdom, you and my dragon lord together. Fighting for Albion."

"Yes," Arthur started, then stopped. "What's Albion? And what's this about a dragon lord…" he broke off. "Wait, Merlin just said that he…"

He turned with his mouth open as Merlin suddenly appeared again at his elbow. "Ready?" the warlock wondered, looking between Arthur and the dragon questioningly.

"You're really a dragon lord?" the King demanded of his friend.

Merlin's face scrunched with amused confusion. "Of course I'm a dragon lord," he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "How else do you think I could have got Kilgarrah to stop attacking Camelot, to say nothing of fly me here." He moved past Arthur to the side of the dragon, and once again used his magic to help him climb up onto the beast's neck. There were some cries and murmurs around the courtyard at that.

"You told me I was the one to defeat it!" Arthur looked up at him, incredulous.

"Of course I did," Merlin said, looking down at him. "I've told you a lot of things over the years. Now stop being such a clotpole and get up here!"

Arthur just put his hands on his hips and stood there with his mouth open. Rolling his eyes, Merlin moved his good hand down in his direction and, with glowing eyes, raised his King gently upwards, the blonde's hands pinwheeling at the strange sensation of being hauled upwards like a sack of grain.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he exclaimed, as Merlin deposited him lightly on the dragon's neck behind him. "Don't do that!" he protested, slapping Merlin lightly on his good shoulder.

"Ow!" Merlin complained back. "I'm injured here!"

The dragon sighed, slowly unfurling his wings. "Do you two ever stop arguing!" he said, shoving powerfully with his legs and pushing himself off the ground and up into the air.

Arthur, initially, was terrified. He would never have admitted it for all the world, but the sensation of being suddenly in the sky and completely out of his own control, scared the bejesus out of him. Dragons it seemed, didn't come with saddles or stirrups and there was very little to hold on to. So he clung tightly with his thighs, and even found himself grabbing hold of fistfuls of Merlin's green cloak – wondering only vaguely why he was wearing a cloak instead of his usual brown jacket.

But then, after a few moments (and he hadn't fallen off) the fear evaporated and was replaced by sheer exhilaration. Everything looked so different, so perfect. It felt like he could just reach out and touch those trees and fields. He saw the waving flags of the tents outside the castle, tiny and far below, saw men like ants standing and staring up at them, saw horses dancing around on their tethers for fear of the great beast overhead.

This was amazing! And he could never even have imagined it in all his dreams. It made him forget the devastation and the death they were leaving behind, made him even forget his aching body, which he'd been told very firmly by Guinevere just an hour or so before, should still be in bed.

But if he'd still been in bed, he would have missed this – and he wouldn't have missed this for anything.

He tried to shout something to Merlin in front of him, but either the warlock was ignoring him, or he simply couldn't hear. After all, the wind was unbelievably powerful, buffeting past them both, and drawing tears from his eyes.

The dragon soared upwards, flapping his wings steadily, but seeming to take little effort in the flight, and Arthur simply held on, a huge smile stretched across his face at the joy of the experience.

He looked back, and was surprised to see that Camelot was already tiny behind them. How had they travelled so far and so fast? Then before he knew it, they were descending, the ground rushing up to meet them as the dragon angled his wings to slow down their flight, flapping heavily as they approached the ground, and then reaching out with his clawed feet to land with a heavy bump.

Arthur was so dazed by the experience that he just sat there grinning for a few seconds, unsure what to do next. Then he was jerked back to reality, as Merlin slid off the dragon from in front of him, and fell instantly to his knees with a cry of pain.

He'd been told that Merlin was injured pretty much as soon as he'd woken that morning. Gwen had been with him, holding his hand, and smiling when he opened his eyes. But he'd seen instantly through her façade, her relief not quite able to hide the sorrow in her heart.

She'd been reluctant at first to tell him much, but he'd badgered her relentlessly, and refused to hear anything about his own health, until he'd heard the truth about what had happened. And so, haltingly, she'd told him: about the demon, about Merlin. About Gaius. She'd told him also that they had visitors from the neighbouring kingdoms, and at that he'd insisted on getting up, knowing that he had to be strong now that he was king. To be weak was to be vulnerable.

And so he was up and bandaged and talking to the kings about the previous night's battle – which he of course had not been able to take part in – when word had come that a dragon had been sighted over Camelot.

At first there had been fear in the hall, and Arthur had commanded his knights to take up defensive positions against a beast that had previously laid waste to his kingdom. But when the dragon landed peacefully in the courtyard, and news had come in that his servant had been sighted sitting on its back, he made his way quickly out, his companions at his side.

When he'd seen Merlin, he'd secretly been relieved. From what Gwen had told him, his servant had been in a bad way when they'd put him to bed. She'd obviously been quite surprised that he'd been able to leave Camelot under his own steam in the middle of the night, and was worried that no one had seen him since. But there he was walking towards them, and acting almost normal, apart from the whole kneeling incident which Arthur still couldn't quite get his head round.

But seeing him now, Arthur was instantly aware that an act was all it had been. Merlin had been appearing strong, just as Arthur had been: aware of the moment, pushing everything else aside.

Quickly, he slid off the dragon himself, stifling his own exclamation of pain (his right knee had been badly bruised by falling stones) and tumbling down beside his servant, who was leaning forward, his right hand bracing himself off the ground, his face sheet white. He was in tears.

Arthur did what he had seldom ever done before, and put his arms around him, wishing he could take away everything that had happened in that last day. They'd both lost so much, and for what? What happened now?

As he kneeled there, feeling Merlin sob into his shoulder, a new sensation settled all around him, and he looked up quickly to see a golden glow descending on their bodies. He raised his eyes further, drawing away from Merlin in shock, and saw that the glow came from the dragon's mouth. The beast was breathing something onto them.

He opened his mouth to protest, but in the same instant, he felt a peaceful sensation settle through him, warm and comforting. He felt his aches and pains easing away, as though he'd slipped into a hot bath, and he closed his mouth and his eyes, and breathed in deeply, completely relaxed.

Then as quickly as it started, the feeling faded. He opened his eyes, so see Merlin blinking in front of him, still looking lost, but no longer so pale. He put a hand to his shoulder, and smiled faintly.

"What," Arthur wondered. "Was that?"

"He healed us," Merlin said succinctly, reaching up to try and take the sling from round his neck, wincing just a little bit as he did so. "Dragon magic, Arthur. The oldest there is."

Arthur put a hand to his head, and indeed, it no longer screamed in agony when he prodded it. More, it felt like a bruise that was long since inflicted, and almost healed. His knee too felt like he'd only subjected it to a vigorous training session.

Quickly, he pulled off his own bandages then reached over to help Merlin with the considerable layers that were wrapped tightly around his arm.

He glanced up at the dragon while he worked. "Thanks," he said.

"You are welcome, King Arthur," it replied, then moved away slowly to the side of the clearing they had landed in, leaving the two boys alone.

Merlin kept his eyes down as Arthur continued to unwrap bandages. The situation reminded him so sharply of the night of his father's death, that at first Arthur found it overwhelming. Eventually, he spoke.

"I'm truly sorry," he said. "About Gaius."

Merlin's face clenched slightly, and he nodded, but said nothing.

"And thank you," Arthur went on, sighing. "For the demon – for everything."

"It's your kingdom now," Merlin all but whispered. He looked up. "Everything is just as it should be."

Arthur smiled at him. "Why did you bring me here?" he wondered.

Merlin shrugged. "To talk," he said. "We have a lot to talk about. And back in Camelot it's all going to be repairing walls and making deals and training knights – and getting married." He smiled as well, just a little, like winter sun. "We needed some quiet. You need to know everything – before you can do everything you were meant to do."

"So tell me," Arthur said, pulling away the last of the bandages, and watching as Merlin rubbed his wrist firmly, flexing his long fingers. "Tell me everything."

They talked a long time, as the sun hoisted itself up through the hazy blue sky, and then rolled lazily down again on the other side. They talked about everything, everything that had happened since Merlin had arrived in Camelot all those years ago. All those things that Arthur had missed or been left out of, all the secrets of magic, and the pains of betrayal. He'd laughed, he'd had tears in his eyes, but he'd listened earnestly to all of it, asking questions, pulling Merlin up when he thought he was bending the truth, listening to the story he'd been part of.

They hadn't gone hungry. Merlin had conjured them food, better than they would normally eat on wilderness outings, and prompting the King to tease him as to why he'd never told him of his magic before, when it came with such obvious fringe benefits.

"Dying is a slightly high cost to pay for eating well on hunting trips," Merlin pointed out.

The King had just laughed. It all seemed so ridiculous now. He'd known about Merlin's magic for only a few days, and already it seemed so natural.

"I expect you to fight with your magic too from now on," he'd said later. "No more hiding behind trees."

"Arthur, I was usually hiding behind trees doing magic!" Merlin insisted. "Why do you think no one ever managed to stab you in the back during all those battles we were in together?"

When it started to grow dark, Arthur wondered if they should be getting back. But Merlin had been vague about that, saying only that they weren't expected. He then created them a grand tent (which even had a little flag waving cheerfully at the top), and two comfortable beds to sleep in, and they'd slept, both exhausted, through the dark reaches of the night, with the dragon keeping watch nearby.

In the morning, Merlin had conjured Arthur some clean kingly clothes to wear, and himself something more respectable than the night clothes he'd been left in.

"Why?" the King had wondered, admiring the red velvet of his sleeves in the early morning light.

Merlin had shrugged. "It's what they'll be expecting," he said.

"Who?"

But Merlin wouldn't say.

They'd climbed back onto the dragon once more, and again, Arthur had felt the rush of joy at the sensation of flying, the wind rushing through his hair. But the flight was brief, and Arthur was amazed as they dropped lower through the sky, to see crowds of people down below, even though this was a wooded area, and at least two hour's walk from Camelot or any habitation by his reckoning.

The dragon came in to land at a safe distance from the people, and the two boys slid off its back, landing easily on the ground beside it.

Merlin turned to fix Arthur's outfit, ruffled by the journey.

"Merlin, what are we doing here?" the King wondered, finally demanding answers.

The warlock looked up at him with a smile. "You're fulfilling your destiny," he said. "Which means that I'm fulfilling my destiny."

"What are you talking about?"

Merlin sighed happily and clapped him on the arm. "That clearing over there," he said. "Is where I put the sword."

"The magical one? The one you stuck in a rock?"

"Yes Arthur, that sword."

"So what's going to happen?"

"I told Gwaine," he said. "Before we left, to spread the word about this magical sword that only the true King of all of Britain could pull from the rock. I told him to gather as many people here as possible. And even though it's only been a day, I reckon he's probably done quite well. Gwaine is amazingly persuasive. I'm guessing there's been people here since yesterday trying to pull that sword out of the stone."

"And what do you want me to do?"

"You're… going to pull the sword out of the stone – in front of everyone, and be declared the once and future king."

"The what?"

Merlin leaned closer. "Just go with it," he whispered.

"Right," Arthur said, rubbing his hands together. "And what are you going to do?"

Merlin's face crinkled in confusion. "I'm going to watch," he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're not going to help?"

The confusion flattened away. "No Arthur," he said. "You don't need my help any more. You're King now. All of this is yours."

Then Arthur turned to him, and put a hand on each of his arms. "Merlin," he said. "I will always need your help." And he smiled, genuinely, saying nothing, saying everything.

Merlin smiled back, his eyes glittering, and turned to watch, as with a final squeeze, Arthur walked away from him and towards his people.

And as the crowds began to cheer, Merlin felt the head of the dragon snake down beside him. It spoke quietly in his ear.

"So, young warlock," it said. "How do you feel?"

And that was the one question that Merlin honestly didn't know the answer to. So many emotions were vying in his chest, that he thought his heart would break with them. So many deaths, so much pain for this moment.

He saw Guinevere coming out of the crowd, going straight to Arthur, kissing him as the people cheered. He saw the knights there clapping Arthur on the shoulder as he walked forwards towards the clearing, holding his hand up to acknowledge the crowd.

Merlin folded his arms in front of him and took in a great breath, feeling the sweet, clean air course through him, feeling the truth of simply being there, of watching this all unfold.

He glanced at the dragon, and their eyes met, these two last creatures of an ancient magic.

He opened his mouth. "I feel whole," he said.

And smiled.

Fin

And that's the end! Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. Thanks to Bean King for services as beta.

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Thanks again, and hope you enjoyed it.