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Merlin sighed, blinking his tears away. Gaius was asleep in his room whilst he was left wide awake, all alone with his thoughts of what Fina had given him: a box containing a note. It explained how Arthur was destined to face his final battle in Camlann. He couldn't let that happen.
Merlin rose to his feet and wrapped a deep-blue cloak around his shoulders. Finally, he had enough money to get something that would keep him warm whenever he went out to see Kilgharrah (or whenever Arthur dragged him out hunting overnight in the middle of winter).
He slipped down the stairs from his room silently and exited his guardian's chambers. He pulled the hood of his cloak up and walked with light steps down the corridors, first past Arthur and Guinevere's chambers, then past the knights' chambers. He ignored the slight creek of one of the doors, expecting it to be the wind.
Unbeknownst to Merlin, Mordred peeked out of his chamber doors, his gaze tracking him as he walked briskly down the corridor and around the corner.
Mordred hurriedly went and pulled out a green cloak from the bottom of his wardrobe. He pulled it on, raised the hood, and raced after Merlin.
The servant managed to slip out of the castle and down into the lower town without anyone stopping him. That was until a drunken Gwaine tottered out of a tavern right in front of him, instantly spotting him.
"Merlin, mate. Bit late to be out and about, ri-" Gwaine began, before promptly tilting dangerously to the side. Merlin barely stopped him from falling over.
"I'm just going out for a walk," Mordred heard Merlin mumble to Gwaine, a stern tone lacing his words.
Merlin glanced out to the forest, tears threatening to fall, and he pushed Gwaine away from him. Gwaine stumbled but didn't fall. However, he did sober up at the harsh treatment. His dark eyes followed Merlin as he fled towards the forest beyond the safety of the castle.
"Maybe I should come with you!" Gwaine shouted after him.
"I'll be all right," Merlin replied dismissively. "I won't be longer than an hour," he promised, but Gwaine wasn't taking the hint. He jogged up to the lanky man, grabbing his wrist.
"Gwaine!" Merlin whispered harshly, his eyes flashing a dark gold.
Mordred's eyes widened, but Gwaine didn't seem to notice. This wasn't normal, was it? Merlin never lost control. Something must be bothering him.
"I don't think you should go out there, after all the drama that's been going on," Gwaine continued defiantly, pushing Merlin towards the castle.
"You don't control me!" Merlin exclaimed as his eyes flashed a vibrant gold, sending Gwaine crashing into the tavern wall. The heat left Merlin's eyes instantly.
"Gwaine?" he whispered, voice trembling. He went over to check on his friend. He was still breathing. He'd be fine. He just needed to get away.
Merlin rushed off down the street, wrapping his cloak further around his shivering body as he entered the forest.
Mordred slipped over to Gwaine after checking which direction Merlin had gone and checked his pulse. He was fine, but he was bound to have a concussion. Finding no serious wounds, Mordred decided to carry on after Merlin before he completely lost him.
Some time later, the young druid found that he'd slowly stopped looking for tracks and instead started to follow the quiet sobbing coming from ahead. Mordred feared that something was wrong with the warlock and quickened his pace.
Further up ahead, Merlin stopped in his tracks. He must have been far enough away from Camelot by that point. He sank to his knees and let the tears fall unabashedly. The gut-wrenching fear of losing Arthur took over.
Camlann.
The name would haunt him for the rest of his days.
He thought about his dragon friend, about to call him when he remembered. Kilgharrah was sick too. And Merlin had no way of helping him. He feared his old friend would die when he needed him most. He was lost without him; he was the only one with all the answers, the only dragon left besides Aithusa.
Mordred found him that way a couple of minutes later. He was huddled up against a tree, his blue hood shaking as he cried into his hands hopelessly. Mordred didn't know what to do; should he leave him to mourn over whatever it was that had saddened him so or go over and help him with whatever the problem was? Merlin didn't seem to notice him anyway, so it was either help out or freak out.
He'd never seen Merlin look so lost before. He'd never imagined he could be. At least not around him. Maybe that could change. He decided to go and help.
Mordred slowly made his way across the clearing he'd found himself in, lowering his hood so he wouldn't scare the life out of his friend. He knelt beside him. Merlin stiffened as he put a comforting hand on his trembling shoulder.
"Mordred?" Merlin asked, brows furrowed. He refused to look him in the eye but sensed his magic through his touch.
"What's wrong, Merlin?" the young druid asked.
Merlin ignored his question. "What are you doing out here? Did you follow me?" Merlin demanded, turning towards him. His eyes flashed gold momentarily with anger.
"Yes," he admitted after a moment's hesitation. "But only to make sure you were all right."
"Leave!" Merlin ordered, shoving him away. "I don't need your pity!"
Mordred scoffed. "It's always the same, isn't it? You still don't trust me! Why?"
Merlin turned towards him, wiping his eyes and looking into Mordred's with dozens of questions on the tip of his tongue.
"I want to trust you," he eventually sighed.
"Then why don't you?" Mordred asked.
"Because destiny won't allow it," Merlin replied, voice breaking. That was one of the things tearing him apart inside.
Mordred knelt back down beside him. "What do you mean?"
The older man looked up at him and tried to seek out the darkness within him, but he could not find any.
"You're going to kill Arthur," Merlin confessed in a whisper.
Mordred fell back into the grass with a thud.
"What?" he gasped. "But... Arthur's right. He's fair. I would never kill him!"
"Destiny has already decided that."
"Then I will do all I can to stop it!" Mordred countered forcefully. "Is that what was troubling you?"
"That... and Kilgharrah."
"Who?"
"A dragon," Merlin revealed.
Mordred's eyes widened, his breaths stuttering out of his chest. A dragon? But there were no more dragons. Had it come to attack Camelot? Was that why Merlin looked so sad at the mention of it?
But the next words that Merlin uttered rendered him speechless.
"He's sick."
Mordred stared at the other man in confusion.
"He's dying and I can't help him."
"You- You know a dragon?" Mordred finally asked.
"That doesn't matter. What does matter is that he's sick and I fear he's going to die, Mordred. What do I do?"
"You're asking me?! How would I know?" he retorted. "How do you know he's dying?"
"I'll show you," Merlin replied, the corner of his lips twitching up into a sad smile.
Merlin threw his head back and roared to the skies, startling Mordred into falling over backwards. His eyes darted across the sky as if searching for a threat.
Merlin turned towards the startled knight and held his hand out with a knowing smile on his face.
Kilgharrah appeared a few minutes later and Mordred hesitantly stepped toward the golden creature.
Merlin looked into Kilgharrah's yellowing eyes with barely-concealed pity. He was growing sicker and losing his power.
"Merlin, why have you brought this traitor with you?" Kilgharrah demanded.
Mordred snapped out of his thoughts and looked over at Merlin in alarm.
"I wanted to see you, old friend. You wouldn't tell me if I'd ever see you again. I fear for your health, Kilgharrah," Merlin admitted.
"The druid boy... cannot help," he replied.
"I wasn't going to ask if he could," Merlin muttered, but he'd caught the hesitation in the dragon's voice and questioned it with his eyes.
Kilgharrah avoided his gaze, instead choosing to examine the younger druid behind him.
"I sense something different about you," he said lowly.
Mordred didn't know what to say, but he was saved the trouble when Merlin began to tilt towards the ground.
"Merlin?" Kilgharrah asked as the man in question collapsed onto the grass unconscious. Mordred rushed over to him and looked him over. No external wounds were present. Could it be something magical? Or even something... emotional?
"Do not worry," the dragon said. "He's having a vision."
"A vision?" Mordred asked worriedly. It wasn't unheard of for powerful sorcerors to gain the ability later on in life. But for it to have such a side effect was alarming to say the least.
After a few tense seconds, Merlin blinked open his eyes wearily and looked up at his friends.
"He's all right!" Mordred called up to Kilgharrah happily.
"What happened?" Merlin mumbled, only loud enough for Mordred to hear.
"You collapsed. The dragon said-"
"I have a name!" Kilgharrah grumbled, still not trusting the knight.
"Kilgharrah said that you had had a vision. Is it true? What did you s-" Mordred began to ask.
"A vision?" Merlin interrupted, before remembering what he had seen.
"Mordred!" Merlin yelped and bolted upright. Mordred grabbed onto his hands and stopped him from moving any further.
"What is it?" Mordred asked.
"I saw you. You helped me. You saved Arthur's life!" he exclaimed.
"Young Warlock, what do you speak of?" Kilgharrah enquired.
Merlin stood up and walked over to the dragon, resting a hand upon the dragon's side and sending his vision to his kin's mind.
"It seems your friend still plays a big part in yours and Arthur's destinies," Kilgharrah sighed.
Merlin turned to Mordred who was staring at them both nervously.
"I know. I'm going to kill Arthur. aren't I?" Mordred sighed.
"No," Merlin whispered, causing Mordred to look up at him curiously. "Your destiny has changed!" Merlin declared.
"Huh?" Mordred uttered, eyes wide.
"Young Warlock-" Kilgharrah interjected, grabbing Merlin's attention again. "If there is nothing else you need, I will take my leave."
"Stay!" Merlin ordered, making sure Kilgharrah wouldn't fly off again. "Sorry," he muttered. "But I think I know how we can heal you."
Merlin turned towards his druid friend.
"We?" Mordred asked. "My magic is too weak to heal a creature as mighty as a dragon."
"No. You can't heal a dragon. I can't heal a dragon. But we can!" Merlin replied, turning to Kilgharrah with glistening eyes.
Kilgharrah got the message and knelt down, letting the two men examine his injured wing. "Be careful," Kilgharrah sighed tiredly, as he guessed what Merlin was about to do.
Merlin stroked his wing before turning to Mordred and beckoning him over. The boy came over quietly, waiting for instructions.
"Will you let me transfer my magic into you?"
"What? No!" Mordred said, abruptly backing away. "You can't! I couldn't handle it."
"Not fully. You are better at healing magic than I am. If I push my magic through you and into Kilgharrah-"
"-then it will heal him," Mordred finished. "Are you sure this will work?"
Despite his doubts, Mordred stepped forward and placed a hand on the dragon's wing. Merlin placed his own on top of Mordred's gently. The younger man gulped, but Merlin's unwavering expression calmed him back down.
Following Merlin's example, he concentrated as he closed his golden eyes. He flinched at the power curling into his body and focused on pushing it back out and into the dragon. After Kilgharrah was fully healed, they both collapsed onto the ground, gasping.
"You know... I should've believed you," Merlin said to Mordred.
"I know your reasons now," Mordred said, smiling in understanding. "But our destinies have changed for the better."
And Merlin believed that with all his heart. Mordred was free.