Chapter Text
There was a deep, bone-weary silence in the courtyard. Even catching their breath was in an exhausted quiet. They had moved down from the wall only to make themselves more available to runners who were bringing messages from around the castle. The castle and town were clear of Cenred and Morgana’s forces. The army outside the gates was retreating under the careful eye of the warships put into the air. Leon came over, having already organized a group of men to – carefully – search the other side of the wall for any traces of Morgana. Arthur gave permission, though he expected there to be no sign of her; she had always managed to escape without a trace before. His suspicions were proven when Leon and his men returned and reported that the trail made when she fell on the other side simply disappeared.
It would be a problem. Morgana would never stop hating him, for what Uther had done. Cenred had proven himself an enemy, and though his army was defeated, their borders would have to be secured. Camelot’s soldiers had been hit hard, fighting an enemy they were unable to kill. There would be funerals in the afternoon - after their dead were collected - but Arthur and the rest of his knights would take the quiet of the moment to regain their strength.
Gaius and Gwen came shortly after Arthur collapsed against a wall, ignoring the dust in favour of sitting, the heat of the sun-warmed stone against his back. Merlin was already sitting to his right, eyes closed either in exhaustion or to ignore the intently curious eyes of knights and stewards alike as they reported to and took orders from Arthur. Gwen threw herself out the door, hitting Lancelot with enough force to wind him. He wrapped his arms around her just as tightly as she held him and whispered into her hair. Gaius followed at a more sedate pace.
“Sire,” he said with a smile, looking down on them. “It’s good to see you again.”
Arthur grinned up at him. “We’re all right,” he said, gesturing between Merlin and himself with a drooping hand. “Can you check on Gwaine? Morgana’s spell sent him flying.” Gaius nodded and made his way over to where Gwaine was set in the shade of the wall.
Gwen crouched down in front of them, skirts and sheathed sword hanging in the dirt. Merlin opened his eyes to smile at her, accepting her outstretched hand in his.
“How is everyone inside?” Arthur asked.
“Gaius saved everyone he could,” she said, matter-of-fact. “We lost some, but the knights were able to keep the soldiers away until we could all hide. They’re all helping with clean-up, now.” She smiled. “They were afraid, until you arrived. Their king.” Arthur scoffed, embarrassed. “What an entrance,” she teased him. “You disappear for weeks and show up in the midst of battle; with a magic sword, a fearsome sorcerer,” she squeezed Merlin’s hand, “and a dragon. There will be songs about this.”
Merlin laughed without opening his eyes. “Haha, your turn,” he said.
Arthur made a face. “We’ll have them sing them at our next feast. Along with all the tales of the Wizard Merlin and his fearsome exploits.”
Gwen giggled as Merlin hit his leg, nose wrinkled and eyes still shut.
Arthur was just about to stand and begin the long work of bringing safety and order back to his castle when a shadow shivered across the courtyard, spreading across its entire length in a swoop. He leapt to his feet and looked into the air, his knights doing the same around him.
Arthur had forgotten about the dragon.
Arthur had forgotten about the dragon?
He looked to Merlin, who was also looking up at the sky, but with a distinct lack of fear or concern. He looked fond, and a little annoyed at the emotion. Arthur supposed that was the answer to the question he was about to ask. Arthur couldn’t match the voice in the small hearth with this scaled, bat-winged giant wheeling above them, but he had seen Merlin looking in Kilgharrah’s direction enough times to recognize the expression on his face when he was doing so.
“Weapons down,” he ordered, making sure his voice carried through the courtyard. “It’s all right,” he said confidently, his stomach trying to make an appearance up through his throat as everyone backed towards the walls of the courtyard to make room from Kilgharrah to land. Dust kicked up in whirling flurries, Kilgharrah flapping those wide-spread wings as his clawed feet sought the ground.
“Ah,” he said with satisfaction as he landed and the dust settled. He turned his head, resting his golden gaze on Merlin and Arthur. “I told you the curse would be broken.”
“Yes,” Arthur agreed before a thought occurred to him. “And no thanks to you, by the way. You said you would break it when I discovered Merlin’s secret.”
“He said wha – You said what?” Merlin exclaimed, turning from Arthur to Kilgharrah and back again. Arthur shrugged an apology at him sidelong, returning his glare to Kilgharrah.
“I promised the curse would be broken when the secret was discovered,” Kilgharrah replied. “And so it was. Once Merlin accepted the destiny you share, he found the power to break the curse, within himself."
Arthur’s mouth was open slightly as he stared at the dragon and thought it out. He looked at Merlin, noting the narrowing of his eyes.
“That just happened,” Arthur argued. “You had nothing to do with it.”
“Destiny cannot be avoided,” he said sagely. Merlin threw his hands up in the air. Gwen rolled her eyes so hard it had to hurt.
“You’re a fake,” Arthur accused.
“And yet,” he said, trailing off in a way that suggested that he had just gestured at Arthur’s current state of visibility, even without the hands necessary to do so.
“You lazy – ”
“And now I must leave you, young warlock.” Kilgarrah said loudly, wings outstretching to their full length. He settled them briefly, voice softening. “Camelot, and all of Albion, is safe in your hands. And the hands of your King. This is the destiny you were always capable of fulfilling.”
“I’m sorry you had to hide inside my castle to get me to see it,” Merlin responded, his tone begrudgingly fond.
Kilgharrah’s laugh sent smoke into the air. “If it was the only way to keep you safe, and be on hand to direct you to your destiny, then it was a worthy sacrifice. Magic will to Camelot once again, without the blight of hate Nimueh, Morgana, and their ilk put upon it. You did well, Merlin,” he said warmly. Merlin ducked his head, blushing. “Do you have any further need of me?”
“No, old friend,” Merlin said. “You can go.”
“You need only call if you need my assistance in the future. Guinevere,” Kilgharrah bowed a goodbye.
Her smile was rueful. “I’ll miss you, you old fraud.”
“Goodbye, Kilgharrah,” Merlin said. “Thank you.”
Kilgharrah dipped his head in a nod. As he lifted it, he leapt into the air, arching as his wings shot out and carried him into the air. He banked, gaining height over the wall, knocking the knights below off balance with the gust of wind, and then he was disappearing into the distance and was gone.
“What use was he?” Arthur asked.
Merlin thought about it. “He stopped my castle for you,’’ he pointed out. “He means well.”
“He just made this entire conflict about matchmaking.”
Merlin looked at him, looked quickly away and then shrugged. His cheeks were pink, colour creeping its way up to his cheekbones. Gwen looked between them and walked away without a word. She caught Elyan as he was walking over to report, pulling him backwards by his elbow, leaving Merlin and Arthur alone. Merlin flushed even deeper.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the magic?” Arthur asked. He hadn’t had time to think about it since the reveal in Merlin's memories. Everything had happened so quickly after they'd seen Cenred's army. Merlin had to have realised that Arthur had been underestimating him, though, and he had decided not to correct his erroneous impression.
Merlin looked down at his feet. He smiled wryly, one half of his mouth lifting. “I liked that you weren’t afraid to talk to me,” he said, shrugging as if that soft confession weren’t important.
“I’m not,” Arthur assured him.
Merlin nodded, wide-eyed. “I –” He floundered. “I’m glad I could help,” he finished awkwardly. His blush had spread to his ears.
“Did you kiss me just to break the curse?” Arthur asked.
Merlin gaped at him. Arthur hit the bottom of his chin with the edge of his finger to close Merlin’s mouth, clicking his teeth together. Merlin’s no doubt furiously earnest protest was lost when he rolled his eyes at that. Still, he shook his head. “I wasn’t really,” he paused, “thinking of that… when I did it.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” he assured him, willing to repeat it until Merlin believed him. Merlin took a hitching breath. “I don’t see how I could be,” he continued tartly, “after seeing you blush so often.”
“Not that often.”
“When you caught me doing laundry, I thought your head was going to explode.”
“Well, it’s not every day the king you happen to fancy is prancing around your castle!”
“You were embarrassed because… you fancy me?”
“Stop,” Merlin whined, blush cooperating with Arthur’s teasing and lighting his cheeks. Arthur couldn’t help himself; he reached out and pulled Merlin to him. When he was close enough, Arthur released his wrist and linked his arms behind his back. “I thought you were scandalized.”
Merlin laughed into Arthur’s collar. “I grew up on a farm. Not much can scandalize me.”
“Just me without a shirt,” he said, smug.
“It was the unexpectedness and not the view, I’m going to argue.”
“Like that was the most unexpected view you’ve seen, travelling the Wastes in a moving castle.”
“Well, I won’t have to worry about that anymore,” Merlin said, a trace of wistfulness in his voice. “I suppose it’ll be back to the scandals of farm life for me.”
“You could stay,” Arthur said hesitantly.
“There’s nowhere to sit,” Merlin said. Arthur stared at him for a moment before he laughed, eyes wrinkling at the corners.
“I’m King, you know. I can buy chairs.”
“Oh, the extravagance.”
“You’re right. You’ll probably just cover them with your dirty clothes.”
“And what am I supposed to do with all these chairs?” he asked, amused but growing serious.
“It will be Gwen’s job to organize them,” Arthur said, nodding over Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin looked back and laughed. Gwen was in the center of knights and stewarts at Lancelot’s side, organizing messages and delegating with a terrifying efficiency.
“She herded Kilgharrah and me through the Wastes,” Merlin said. “She can handle this castle.”
“I will need more help,” Arthur said lightly, brushing dust from Merlin’s arm. “I can’t bring magic back to Camelot alone, let alone unite Albion.”
“I suppose I will stay,” Merlin said, nodding. He raised his arms and placed his hands, softly, onto Arthur’s shoulders. His thumbs brushed feather-light against Arthur’s neck. “Kilgharrah put so much effort into it, after all.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want to disappoint the matchmaking lizard.”
The kiss that followed could have been ruined by the way their teeth met, both unable to keep the grins from their faces….
But it wasn’t.