Dawning of a New Day

By Gwenneth

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, just having a bit of fun.

Summary: Merlin has lost so many friends already. After Camlann, he is determined not to lose another. Will he succeed, or is he doomed to suffer another loss? Spoilers for 5.13. AU.

Merlin's body trembled as he hefted Arthur's weight through the treeline into the light at the edge of the forest. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes and he could barely drag in his next breath as Arthur's weight finally became too much and the both of them crashed to the ground.

Arthur was pale. So pale that Merlin felt the tears breach his lashes and start to fall. They weren't going to make it. The wound was too great and the distance to Avalon too far. He was failing. Arthur was dying in his arms.

"Just … hold me," the King panted, his voice low and weak. "There's something I want to say."

Merlin looked down on his King. His friend. His best friend, truth be told. The unnatural palor, the bright eyes. Death was chomping at his heels and yet Arthur was still so … regal. And he was trying to speak again.

"You're not going to say goodbye," Merlin interjected, trying to lighten the weight of the moment. The comment drew a small smile from the other man, who shook his head. "Because you're not going to die, Arthur. I'm not done with you yet. I have way too much to tell you."

Arthur grasped his shoulder with what little strength he had left. "Merlin," he said, looking at the warlock. "Please, just … let me say this." He gathered himself again, straining, and then spoke again. "I know now, everything you did, you did for me. For Camelot. Merlin … I want to say ... thank you."

His breathing hitched and for a moment, Merlin thought this was it and he was losing him. A shout and a shake and Arthur's eyes rolled open again with a groan. "Arthur, stay with me," Merlin begged, shifting Arthur so that he was laying down on the ground. The King gasped in discomfort, but Merlin took no notice. Instead, he stood up and looked up to the sky.

"We need to get to Avalon now," he said. "And there is only one way I can think of that we might get there before you … before you …" he broke off and finally said, "to get there in time."

Arthur watched blearily as Merlin looked to the sky again. He knew he was dying. And he knew that, while Merlin was undoubtedly powerful, even he couldn't get them to Avalon in minutes. So what was Merlin doing?

He had his answer a moment later when Merlin roared.

What came out of his mouth was gibberish to Arthur, but it must have meant something because it was only moments later that a great flapping and a loud "whoosh" sounded above them. A darkness descended upon the clearing and for a moment Arthur thought Merlin had called down a storm or something. But it wasn't a storm.

It was a dragon.

The same dragon he thought he had killed all those years ago.

"M...Mer...Merlin?"

Arthur gasped as he struggled to move. Merlin rushed to his side and tugged him upward, drawing a grunt and a groan as the King reeled again. This time, Arthur did pass out and Merlin looked to Kilgarrah. "Please, we need to get to Avalon now," he said. "He hasn't any more time."

The Great Dragon's golden eyes were weary. His body, old and broken, spoke of years of age and torment. But he didn't scoff about being ridden as he once would have, just lowered his head and waited for the young warlock to heft the Once and Future King onto his back.

When the two were settled, he took to the sky and winged toward the Lake of Avalon. It gleamed and glistened in the waning sun of the day. Evening was rapidly approaching and the purples and reds of sunset cast eery hues over Arthur's pale face as Merlin looked over at where it leaned against his chest. "Please hold on," he whispered, gripping harder.

Kilgarrah began his descent soon and Merlin braced himself for the jolt of the impact. It jarred Arthur awake with a cry and Merlin held his friend tighter as the man panicked at his position – atop a dragon. "Merlin?" He whispered, unable to bring forth a stronger reprimand. "What is this?"

Merlin paid him no mind. "Down we go," he grunted, sliding down from the dragon and to the ground below, hefting Arthur down as he went. The King's weight, complete with mail and armor, took them both to the ground again and Merlin was hard-pressed to get them both up this time.

"Merlin."

The warlock paused at the call, and Arthur managed to drag his gaze up, even if his head refused to follow his eyes. He could do little more than look on as Merlin addressed the towering creature like he would any other man.

"I have to save him," he said, his tone warning the dragon not to argue.

Kilgarrah cocked his head to the side. "I know this," he said. "I have known this since before you were born, young warlock," he said, mirth in his voice. "But there is something I have that you do not, that you will need to save the Once and Future King's life."

Merlin blinked owlishly.

"What?"

The dragon lowered his massive head. "A life."

Merlin blanched. "A … life."

It made sense. This was a mortal wound. For a life to be given – Arthur's – a life would need to taken. Merlin had no life to offer. Did Kilgarrah have someone about he didn't see? "I don't understand," Merlin said. "I could offer myself."

Arthur's eyes jerked to the side and he surged with a surprising amount of strength. "Don't!"

Merlin ignored him. Kilgarrah shook his ancient head. "Yes, you do have your own life," he said. "But you are needed to perform the magic, Merlin. So you can't be the life taken. You need another. I have the other."

Still, Merlin did not grasp what the dragon was saying. Or maybe he did – and just refused to accept it. Arthur, however, understood immediately. "You?" He pulled from Merlin's side and crashed to his knees. Merlin followed him in concern. "Why?"

Kilgarrah ignored Arthur and kept his attention on Merlin as the young man grasped the import of his words. "No," he whispered, shaking his head violently. "I can't lose anyone else. I won't. You can't."

But the dragon blew a blast of red-hot flames out of his nostrils in frustration and the trees on the edge of the lake took the brunt of the heat, blackened and shriveled in its aftermath. "You must," he said. Seeing the desperation, he softened his tone. "I am old, Merlin. When I took you from the watchtower and healed you, I told you that you could not heal my ills. You can't save everyone, Merlin, but together, we can save Arthur. I have lived a long life, and while 20 years of it were tarnished beneath Camelot, the last few I have been free. I have you to thank for that, now let me repay you. Let me rest, Merlin."

The young man swallowed the bile threatening to rise in his throat as Arthur slipped further to the ground, his strength failing him. "I … I hate this," he whispered. "But all right." He looked to the lake. "What do I do?"

Kilgarrah gestured to the lake. "Go to the lake, summon the Sidhe."

"Summon them?"

"Use your staff, boy!"

Merlin flushed and Arthur coughed out an almost chuckle. Holding out his hand, Merlin summoned the twisted staff he had rained fire down upon the fields of Camlann with and Arthur swallowed in anticipation. He had fully expected to die today. Now? He wasn't so sure he would.

The dark-haired man stood ankle deep in the water of the lake and after a moment's contemplation, he canted the staff toward the water and a blast of magic erupted from its end into the clear surface, sending a geyser of water erupting into the air above.

From the geyser burst a flittering mass of green lights. As they drew near, Arthur could see they weren't lights, but beings. Small, grotesque looking beasts with wings that beat furious cadences to keep the creatures afloat in the air around Merlin, who appeared hard-pressed to remain still in their midst.

He couldn't hear their conversation, but seconds later they were rapidly approaching him and the dragon beside him, Merlin trailing behind them. "You wish to exchange life forces?" the Sidhe King asked, his small body growing rapidly until he was the size of a full grown man.

Kilgarrah lowered his head in agreement. "I will offer my own so that he may live."

The Sidhe looked to Merlin. "You will broker this exchange?"

Merlin nodded. "I will."

With a burst of speed, the Sidhe King dropped to Arthur's side and pressed a hand to the wound in Arthur's side. The young King expected pain, but all he got was warmth. "A deadly wound. A mortal wound. Do you accept this exchange?"

"I … I do." Arthur gritted out, unable to meet the dragon's gaze.

The Sidhe turned to Merlin and pressed a hand over the young warlock's on the staff. The wood glowed brightly for a moment and Merlin grunted, as if in pain, before the Sidhe released his hold, rapidly decreased in size, and flitted back to the swarm that was surrounding them at the lake's edge.

Arthur watched Merlin approach shakily. He looked dazed and his hand was clutching the staff so hard his already-white knuckles were the color of bones. His eyes were swirling with gold, but he wasn't currently casting any magic.

"Kilgarrah," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of the magic of life and death he was currently holding. "Is there anything you wish of me before we do this?"

The dragon lifted his head. "One thing, young warlock. I wish for you to find Aithusa and try to save him. He is young and alone, and you are his only kin. Please do this for me." At Merlin's nod, since it was all Merlin appeared able to offer now, Kilgarrah continued. "It has been a privilege to have known you, Merlin. Your father would be proud. Albion will be a bright place indeed."

Merlin was trembling now, his other hand suddenly shooting out to grasp the staff alongside the first. "I can't hold this back any longer," he said. "It's now or never." He looked down at Arthur. "I have no idea what this will do, or how it will work," he said. "I'd never hurt you, you know that, right?"

Arthur looked at Merlin weakly. "I trust you."

That was all the warlock needed to hear before letting loose the Sidhe magic and his own that were battling to be released from the staff. As the words of the Old Magic appeared in his mind, he repeated them aloud and the clearing and the three figures – two small and one large – were soon engulfed in a blinding, golden light.

When it cleared, only two figures remained, both still as death.

A/N: Not the end, I intend to post more...but that was a fitting place to break and I need to get some actual work, work done! Hope you like! Let me know what you think, and maybe what you'd like to see...I envision at the very least, two more chapters. - Gwenneth