AN: I don't own Merlin, as I'm sure you've guessed.
So. Umm.
I am aware that I am already working on 3 different fics. However, I did promise that I would get around to writing this. And I was getting a little writer's block on my other fics. So, here's this.
The mood over the castle was grim.
Arthur stood by his window, surveying his subdued kingdom. Word had traveled. Word always traveled...
Even those who had not been present at the council meeting knew of Morgana's newly recruited army that was preparing to march on Camelot. They knew it was huge, the biggest one to be seen in all the kingdoms for a long time. They knew the king planned to fight it, but his knights were vastly outnumbered.
Though they did not know the more sobering details. They did not know that about a third of the army was comprised of sorcerers. They did not know that, according to the reports, Morgana had even captured a small pack of wyverns, which she planned to set on her former home. They didn't know that the mercenaries had built catapults, with which they would bombard the citadel.
Arthur knew all these things. They would not let his mind be as he stared out over the courtyard. He remembered, quite clearly, the grim conversation these facts had sparked.
"Sire, we stand little chance against the army. Morgana's soldiers are numberless. She has obviously gone to great lengths to take the kingdom," Leon reported, some of his apprehension leaking into his voice.
Arthur rested his chin on his hands, thinking.
"Sire, we cannot hope to win-" one of the noblemen began.
"What are you suggesting? That we give up?" Gwaine said sharply.
Arthur gave him a look that silently discouraged his slightly sharp tone, but nonetheless agreed.
"Sir Gwaine is right. If Camelot falls to Morgana, it will not fall without a fight."
The knights at the round table held their heads high, silently agreeing that they would fight to their last breath.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of the door creaking open.
"What do you want, Merlin?" he said quietly without moving. He wasn't sure if he was glad for the company or not.
"I...um, well..." At Merlin's stutter, Arthur turned around. His servant was standing awkwardly in the middle of his chambers.
"Spit it out, Merlin," the king said dully.
Merlin took a deep, shaky breath. "You're going to fight, aren't you?"
Arthur rubbed his head, not quite sure what was going through his manservant's head. "Yes, of course, Merlin. If this is you trying to convince me otherwise-"
"No, no, I think you should fight."
Arthur raised an eyebrow, surprised. Usually Merlin was the one trying to convince him to do the safe thing, protect himself.
"Really? And why is that?"
Merlin swallowed. "I...I can help."
As he had expected, the king scoffed. "Merlin, I hardly think there's anything you can do-"
"That's because you don't know what I do."
Arthur stared, growing slightly uneasy. Merlin had a steely look in his eye, one he hadn't seen often. He had a feeling Merlin was planning something. Knowing Merlin it would either be unexpectedly genius, like his random spurts of wisdom, or completely insane to attempt.
"And what would that be?" the king said testily.
His servant appeared to be struggling with himself, but at Arthur's question he straightened and delivered his answer without hesitation, if a little shakily.
"I have...a skill that I neglected to inform you of before because...frankly, it would have been a little risky. But it will come in useful, if you will allow me to help you fight against Morgana."
Arthur's confusion grew. Merlin? Skills?
"Merlin, what are you on about?" he said impatiently.
Merlin looked him in the eye. "Arthur...I'madragonlord."
He blurted the words out nervously, and once he'd said them he stood, frozen and wide-eyed, waiting for a response.
The response was incredulity.
"Dragonlord? Don't be ridiculous, Merlin, the last one died, remember?"
Surprisingly, this made Merlin flinch. Arthur frowned.
"Merlin, you can't be serious...?"
But it appeared that Merlin was, in fact, serious. He swallowed again, and then spoke.
"The...abilities of dragonlords are inherited...once the father has died."
"What-"
Arthur fell silent as the meaning of that statement washed over him. His eyes widened.
"Balinor," he breathed. "He was..."
Merlin nodded, his eyes fixed on the ground.
Arthur was simply dumbfounded. Yet it made sense - Merlin had seemed so upset when the dragonlord had died. Arthur hadn't understood at the time.
"Gods, Merlin. I'm sorry," he whispered, remembering his insensitive words at the time.
"It's fine," Merlin said in a small voice.
Arthur marveled at how he could say that. Dealing with the death of his own father had been hard enough. But not being able to mourn him...
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Merlin didn't answer.
"It was my father, wasn't it?" As much as it pained Arthur to admit it, he suspected Uther would not have taken it well had he learned that a dragonlord, who had abilities that bordered on magical, had a son living in Camelot.
"I didn't think you would appreciate keeping things from him," Merlin mumbled.
Despite knowing this was true, the king felt a spark of annoyance, though he knew it was unfair.
"And only telling me this now?"
Merlin flinched. "Sorry."
It was tense. Arthur, still reeling from this revelation, cast around for something to say.
"Why are you telling me this now?"
Merlin looked relieved. "Morgana has wyverns, right? They're close enough to dragons that I can force them not to attack, even turn them against her."
Arthur considered this. "That will certainly help, but I doubt it will be enough to win us the battle."
Now Merlin looked even more nervous. "And...erm...there is something else."
Arthur felt apprehensive again at the look on Merlin's face. It was his expression that meant 'I'm going to tell you something you won't like but try not to take my head off.'
"Well? What is it?"
Merlin took a deep breath, then spoke in a rush. "'Member how I told you you killed the great dragon?"
Arthur nodded slowly.
"I lied."
It was barely a whisper, and it was said with a slight tremble, but the king heard him clearly.
"Excuse me?"
"I lied," Merlin said loudly. "You did not kill the dragon. I banished it."
Arthur stared at him for a full ten seconds before exploding.
"YOU BANISHED IT?" he screeched. "It's a MONSTER, Merlin! Why did you let it live?"
Merlin, though obviously not enjoying Arthur's reaction, stubbornly refused to look ashamed.
"He was the last of his kind. He asked me not to make him 'responsible for the death of his breed'. Trust me, I thought about killing him. But I forbid him to return or to hurt anyone else. He could not have refused if he wanted to."
Arthur glared, grinding his teeth. Of course. How typically Merlin. Merlin wouldn't step on a bee if it stung him.
"Alright. And your point?"
Merlin smiled wryly. "I can call him back."
It took Arthur a moment to process this. Especially as he still hadn't adjusted to the thought of Merlin, of all people, having that much power. But when he did, his heart fluttered with a small amount of hope.
"You mean..."
Merlin nodded. "I can make him attack Morgana. Even the knights of Camelot could not hurt the dragon. If they were to be attacked by him, all their efforts would be focused on protecting themselves. And Gaius says even sorcerers aren't powerful enough to do any real damage to it."
Arthur began to pace, his hope growing.
"And you're sure you can do this?"
Merlin nodded.
Arthur sighed. "All right. We'll give it a try...not that we have much choice."
And without another word, we walked over and flopped down on his desk, his mind still reeling with the conversation he'd just had.