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Merlin could only blame the gods for what he considered to be the most unfair life in all of Albion.
First, he was a creature of magic, in a land that outlawed and killed and enslaved those with it. Then, he was sent off to Camelot to live right under the nose of the man that started it all, only to wind up as the bleeding Prince’s manservant. And then, he went and fell in love with the great prat. Just to top it all off, he ended up being a Dragonlord.
When Merlin learned that he was a Dragonlord, he didn’t entirely know what that meant, and he obviously didn’t get enough time with his father to learn. All Merlin knew about his newfound heritage was that he was kin to dragons, and could command them.
Nothing could have prepared him for this .
After Merlin had commanded Kilgharrah to stop attacking the citadel and to leave Camelot, he hoped for at least a bit of peace.
Knowing his luck, he got exactly the opposite.
About a week later, Merlin found what appeared to be small scales growing along his spine. Well, he hadn’t found them so much as Gaius had, when he was treating a burn Merlin had gotten from fumbling with a candle. It wasn’t that bad of a burn, but it was on his chest, ironically enough, just where Nimueh’s fireball had gotten him.
Gaius had told Merlin to take off his shirt, and when he went around his young ward and casually looked at his bare back, he was surprised to see glistening black scales growing down his spine. He managed to show Merlin by using some mirrors.
Merlin was just thankful it was Gaius that saw them, and not anyone else, and that they were in an easy enough place to hide.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t where the changes stopped.
No, Merlin thankfully didn’t grow any wings or horns or fangs or claws or anything, though his scales had been growing bigger and growing up his neck. Thankfully, his neckerchief hid them for the most part, and his hair was getting long enough to curl around the nape of his neck.
No, the changes weren’t physical, beyond the scales, but more so behavioural .
Merlin had become more possessive, and his senses seemed to heighten, and his instincts and reflexes sharpened. The latter were definitely good changes, as they helped him navigate life around the castle, but the former change, the possessiveness, was going to get him killed sooner than his magic might. Merlin currently had a bet with himself about which will get him on the chopping block first.
About a week after the scales were first found, Merlin caught himself eyeing Arthur’s chain mail with what almost felt like hunger . He couldn’t really explain it, but he felt as if he needed to have at least a few links of mail, just to keep close and safe. It seemed like such a small thing, he couldn’t help but take a few links from the hem of the mail, hiding it in his neckerchief. Arthur hadn’t even noticed, and Merlin had happily hidden the links in a box that he put under his floorboards.
That was the beginning of what Merlin swore was a curse.
Now, there wasn’t a day that went by that Merlin didn’t see something that caught his eye that he felt like nicking. A stray emerald earring from Morgana, an embroidered handkerchief from Gwen, a belt buckle from Arthur, a crystal vial from Gaius. (Most of what he pilfered was Arthur’s, and Merlin truly hated it.) It was always small, valuable items, and Merlin was just thankful he wasn’t trying to steal anything that couldn’t be explained away as just a lost item.
The covetous overprotection didn’t just stop at small, inanimate objects. Merlin felt more protective of his friends than ever, and he could only guess why.
All of these damn dragon tendencies, he felt like he was going to go insane if Arthur tried to wander into danger one more time, or if he saw anyone push Gwen around again, or if he even heard a whisper of some noble looking at Morgana wrong. Merlin knew his friends could all look out for themselves, but he felt that he needed to keep them safe, he was the only one that was allowed near them, nobody else should see them.
Sometimes Merlin scared himself with how possessive he was.
Now was a great example of how drastically inheriting his Dragonlord powers have changed him.
Merlin was just cleaning Arthur’s room, tidying up his usual mess, when something caught his eye, again. He forced himself to ignore whatever the trinket was, giving the clothes he was folding all his attention. But the item nagged at his peripheral vision, taunting him. Merlin hadn’t even seen what exactly it was before his mind was roaring at him to grab it.
Unable to resist the urge any longer, Merlin whirled around and stalked over to the table, picking up the letter that wouldn’t leave him alone. A bloody letter.
In his defence, though, it was a very nice letter.
The stationary was obviously expensive, being strong, thick parchment, and the ink was definitely nice, a lovely bluish color rather than the usual black, and the yellow wax seal was magnificent in detail and texture. The seal was one that Merlin didn’t immediately recognize, but it was a lion and a wreath surrounding it.
Merlin didn’t have time to read what the letter said before the chamber doors opened. He cursed his own useless senses for being so hyperfocused on the letter that he hadn’t even noticed anyone approaching the room.
He looked up from the beautiful seal just in time to see Arthur scowling at him.
“Reading my papers, are you, Mer lin?” He drawled, “You know that some of those are confidential. Meaning, you aren’t supposed to see them.”
“You know I never do what I’m supposed to.” Merlin said, even as he was dropping the letter, He was glad his voice didn’t tremble too much from the fear of getting caught.
Arthur just rolled his eyes before walking over to the table and snatching up the letter. The way the prince looked at it, it seemed he was just now reading it, despite the letter having been there all morning.
“Ah, a letter from Princess Elena of Gawant. You remember her, right Merlin? She definitely seems to have cleaned up since her last visit, though from her letters, she’s still a fantastic rider.” Arthur acclaimed with a grin that set Merlin’s stomach into knots, “Next time I see her, we’ll have to go riding.”
Merlin bit his bottom lip as he tried to keep down the jealousy growing in his chest, but his idiotic draconic ass spoke anyway.
“You and Elena have been writing?” He couldn’t even keep the jealousy out of his voice as he asked the question, looking at the letter with a cold hatred that rivalled the way he had been admiring it not even a minute ago.
The prince looked at Merlin with a confused tilt of his head, raising a brow in a way that almost reminded Merlin of Gaius.
“Yes, we are in correspondence. She sent me a letter to apologize for her behaviour before cleaning up, and ended up continuing to send letters. They take a while to arrive, but it’s always nice to hear from a friend.” Arthur explained, and the covetous jealousy only bubbled and boiled like a hot pot of water.
“I thought you didn’t like Elena, and you didn’t want to marry her.” Merlin said, inwardly cringing at his cold tone.
“I don’t want to marry her, but I do like her, as a friend. Besides, Elena is now engaged to some duke, who she actually seems to really adore.” Arthur was scowling at Merlin again.
At his words, and real scowl, Merlin felt his envious anger subside, and he realized how foolish he was being. Even if Merlin wanted to protect Arthur, even if he loved him, that didn’t mean he could stop the Prince of Camelot from doing anything, and what was the harm in a friendship. Though he still wanted to make clear that Arthur was his , and no one could take him from the Dragonlord lest they suffer the burning consequences.
Merlin just muttered an “oh” as he felt his ears burn.
Arthur’s scowl lessened, not entirely going away, but Merlin could hear the lack of real heat in his voice when he spoke.
“If you’re ready to stop being a moody idiot, Mer lin, then go and ready some horses, I want to go on a hunt.”
Merlin groaned, only half exaggerating his dissatisfaction with how they will be spending their afternoon. He hated hunting, and he had been hoping for some time off so he could sneak out into the woods, alone, and practice a concealing spell.
Arthur just playfully rolled his eyes, sitting at his desk and picking up a quill. “You have until I’m done writing a response to Princess Elena. I expect the horses to be ready by then.”
Merlin ignored the bubble of jealousy as he nodded and sulked out of the room. A hunt, lovely. And he didn’t even get to nick something new for his collection.
And it was a collection; Merlin refused to call it a hoard.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
The hunt was a mess. Merlin ended up in the mud, and Arthur had laughed at him. Now he had mud between his scales, and the feeling was the most uncomfortable in the world. It put him in an even worse mood than he was already in, and His Highness obviously didn’t appreciate it, not that it was Merlin’s fault that any of this was happening.
They ended up coming back with only two pheasants and a particularly small hart. Arthur was in a right mood when they got home, and he stalked to his room, telling Merlin he was dismissed early that night.
He quietly thanked the gods as he quickly walked to Gaius’s chambers, complaining to the older man as he took off his neckerchief and muddied shirt. Gaius listened with only a few facial expressions as he prepared his medicine bag for his rounds.
Normally, if Merlin came back from an exceptionally grueling day of working for Arthur all covered in muck, Gaius would help him clean up while giving some reassuring words, but they learned, almost as soon as they appeared, that the scales were a bit sensitive when being cleaned, and even if they were on his back, it was probably best if Merlin cleaned them himself.
So Merlin got a wash basin filled with water, using magic to heat it slightly. He began gently cleaning his back as Gaius left. It took a while to get those hard to reach areas, as well as under his scales, which had grown over his shoulder blades and seemed to be creeping onto his shoulders. Merlin hoped the scales didn’t eventually grow all over him, that would be awful and impossibly hard to hide.
He sighed in contentment when the soft, warm cloth cleaned beneath his black-purple scales. Merlin couldn’t see them well himself, but Gaius said they were black that shined purple in the light. Despite how much trouble they were, Merlin couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride for having such pretty scales, no matter how weird that seemed to him. Maybe it was the dragon in him.
Merlin ran the cloth over his shoulders, but froze just as he heard something outside the door. Someone was coming up the tower, and it wasn’t Gaius. His ears were sharp enough to know the difference between a fit man’s walk and an old man’s shuffle. This was a fit man, and as he got closer, Merlin could easily identify the gait as Arthur’s.
He scrambled to cover up, throwing the cloth down and looking everywhere for the blue rag he called a shirt. It was on the back of a chair on the other side of the table, and the footsteps were closer, right outside the door.
Just as the door opened, Merlin had reached the chair and picked up the shirt. Thanks to the less-than-ideal placement of the chair, his back was to the door. Merlin froze and cringed as he heard Arthur’s breath hitch.
“Merlin? What’s that on your back?” Arthur asked, and Merlin was too lost trying to put together some kind of excuse to read his tone.
“Uh,” Was all Merlin could get out, slowly turning to face Arthur. The prince, his best friend and destiny, the man he had grown to love, looked at Merlin with a mix of confusion and concern.
Arthur took a step toward him, and Merlin matched that by taking a step back. Unfortunately, he met the table and could only brace himself as Arthur continued his slow and cautious advance.
“Merlin, if you’re injured, you know you don’t have to hide it from me.” Merlin saw Arthur’s gaze flick to the large scar on his chest, from Nimueh. He couldn’t see a way out of this.
“I’m - I’m not injured. I’m not hurt.” Merlin said, slowly finding his voice.
Arthur stopped right in front of Merlin, they were so close, he could easily smell the vanilla-lavender soap that Arthur liked, and his usual leather-and-sweat smell that Merlin could never get enough of. Now, he felt like he was overwhelmed by that scent.
“Then what did I see on your back?” Arthur asked gently.
Merlin didn’t answer, the words caught in his throat with a faint whimper.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, his voice just as gentle but now demanding, “turn around. Show me your back.”
Merlin couldn’t disobey his king, not the one time he wanted to. He wanted to tell him to sod off, call him a prat, run away, hide, but he didn’t do any of that. He turned around slowly and lowered his head, showing Arthur the black-purple scales that ran down from the nape of his neck to his lower back and over his shoulder blades and shoulders, like beautiful plated armour.
He heard Arthur gasp quietly, and felt as his hand hovered over his right shoulder. Merlin shrunk in on himself at the following silence, not able to bear how Arthur was reacting. He wasn’t raging, wasn’t calling Merlin disgusting, wasn’t doing anything. They were just standing there.
“Merlin,” Arthur said once more, voice quieted below a whisper. “You have scales.”
The Dragonlord blinked once before laughing, almost manically. It was such a ridiculous thing, telling a Dragonlord that he had scales. That was like telling a horse he had hooves. He could feel Arthur’s confusion without even looking at him, and all Merlin could do was shake his head and turn back around, looking at his prince with bittersweet mirth.
“Yeah,” He said, “Yeah, I have scales. I’m - I’m a Dragonlord.” Merlin hated himself for faltering on the last word, trying not to flinch as he looked away from Arthur.
But Arthur remained silent, just standing there.
Something in Merlin told him that that was an invitation to keep going, why stop at one secret? Maybe that was also the dragon in him, fearless and obviously having no self-preservation.
“I also have magic,” His voice didn’t falter this time. “I’m a warlock, and a Dragonlord.”
Merlin looked directly into Arthur’s face, where he was met with a look of betrayal and shock. He didn’t want to, but he held his gaze.
“You… You have magic?” Arthur asked.
Merlin nodded.
“But, the last Dragonlord died.” The prince was jumping from one thing to another, and Merlin can’t blame him. It was a lot to take in at once.
“Balinor was my father. He passed down his powers to me when he died. That’s why you’re just now seeing my scales. They only appeared a week after.”
Arthur nodded.
“You have magic.” It was less of a question this time, and more of the accusation Merlin had been expecting.
“Yes,” Merlin couldn’t help the tears forming in his eyes as he took in Arthur’s angry face. “But only for you, Sire, I swear upon my life, I only use my magic for you and for the good of Camelot.” Hot tears trickled down Merlin’s face as he explained, needing Arthur to know that he would never hurt him. “I couldn’t ever hurt you, I couldn’t.”
Arthur kept his expression blank, but Merlin knew his tells, he could see the anger in the way his mouth was set in a firm line, the betrayal in his deep, beautiful forget-me-not blue eyes, the pain in the way his jaw was set. Merlin only hiccuped a sob in response to his silence.
Finally, the man he loved spoke. “Were you ever going to tell me?” It was a quiet, pained question.
Merlin didn’t really know the answer to it.
He did, but it was so complicated, and it changed nearly every day. He tried his best to answer as honestly as possible.
“I-I wanted to, Sire,” Merlin hiccuped again, before doing his best to calm down so he could speak clearly. “I wanted to, everyday. I hated lying to you, I hated having to hide. But surely you understand why I couldn’t. You would hate me.” The last words tumbled past his lips in a strained whisper.
Arthur’s jaw clenched and his eyes sharped in newfound anger. “You think so low of me?”
Merlin heard more hurt in his question than anger, and he shook his head.
“No, Arthur, no, but I couldn’t put you in that position. To choose to let me go or to follow your father, you love him too much, I couldn’t do that.” Merlin shook his head again before finally stopping and taking a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you, but after you already knew that magic wasn’t evil, so I wouldn’t be the one making you make the choice. I wouldn’t ever hurt you or force you to do anything.”
Arthur just nodded and looked away, and Merlin did the same, looking down at his hands.
“How long?” Merlin looked up as Arthur asked the question, and his confusion must have been apparent, “How long have you studied magic?”
“I’ve only begun studying magic two years ago, when I came to Camelot, but I’ve had magic since I was born. I was able to move things with my mind before I could even walk.” The corners of Merlin’s lips just barely quirked into a smile.
It was Arthur’s turn to look confused, and Merlin was very glad to see his confusion overtake his hurt from being lied to for so long.
“If you’ve had magic since birth, then why in seven hells did you come to Camelot? Surely you knew you would be killed if you were caught.”
“Remember when I told you I wasn’t much liked in my village?” Arthur nodded. “That’s not just because I was a bastard, or got into a lot of trouble, but also because I accidentally fell an entire tree with my magic, and it almost fell on someone. But he was being an arse, yelling at me and Will. But I didn’t mean for it to happen. People were mad at me, they were figuring out that I had magic, and if word somehow got to Cenred, he would have taken me and forced me into his servitude. My mum didn’t want that, so she sent me to live with Gaius, my uncle. She said he could keep me safe and… and teach me how to control my magic.” Merlin figured there was no need to hide the fact that Gaius knew about him, as long as Gaius doesn’t get into any trouble.
“Gaius knew? Did anyone else know?” Arthur asked.
“Lancelot.”
Arthur looked at him with a slightly offended look. “You told Lancelot, but not me?”
Merlin actually smiled at that. Now who was jealous?
“I didn’t tell so much as he figured it out. When he killed the gryphon, he realized it was with the help of my magic. I had to use magic to kill it, otherwise it never would have died.”
Arthur just nodded again, but he still looked a bit upset. Merlin bit his bottom lip, looking away for a moment before looking back at his prince.
“Now what? Will you… Will you get rid of me, or will you harbour a sorcerer, and go against your father?” Merlin asked in a small voice, terrified of the answer.
Arthur looked up at Merlin with his jaw set and determination gleaming in his eyes, as well as something else. He grabbed the Dragonlord’s hands in his, gentle, yet firm.
“Merlin, I could never stand to hurt you, or be without you. I know that magic isn’t evil, that my father is wrong. If anything, you are living proof of that. I know you would never hurt anyone, Merlin.”
The Dragonlord flushed at his prince’s words, his legs going weak at how honest Arthur’s tone was, how solid and sure his voice rang, how he was looking at him. Before Merlin really knew what he was doing, he was surging forward and crashing his lips against Arthur’s.
The kiss didn’t last long, as Merlin quickly pulled away after coming to his senses. He looked at Arthur, horrified to see him disgusted to even think that he could think of a servant like that, But when Merlin looked at his prince, Arthur was just looking at him with a small smirk, that look in his deep blue eyes that made Merlin weak in the knees.
“I’m so sorry Sire, I-I didn’t mean -”
“ Mer lin,” Arthur interrupted, “shut up.” And then he kissed Merlin again.
This next kiss was less sudden, but just as desperate and much longer. There was something about this kiss, and Merlin couldn’t help the loving hum that rumbled deep in his chest as he moved his hands to cup Arthur’s face. Arthur wrapped his hands around the Dragonlord’s waist, pulling them closer, until they were chest to bare chest.
They pulled away panting, and Merlin was sure he was blushing from his ears to his shoulders, and that his eyes were blown out like a cat’s on catnip, but his prince’s pupils were just as large, and he was also sporting a soft blush. Arthur ran a single finger down the trail of scales on his spine, and Merlin let out a shuddered breath.
Merlin leaned in until their foreheads touched and noses brushed, looking into Arthur’s eyes. He finally realised what it was in that deep blue that made him feel so vulnerable, and he was sure his eyes matched. He smiled lovingly at his prince, satisfied to finally have him in his hands, to finally get to kiss him and love him.
“Arthur,” Merlin was interrupted by a chaste kiss on his lips. He scowled at Arthur, though it was ruined by his growing smile.
“I know.” His prince said, just quiet enough that only Merlin could hear. “I love you.”
Merlin almost melted in Arthur’s arms as he heard him say those 3 words. He did the next best thing and nuzzled into where his neck met his shoulder, inhaling that intoxicating smell of vanilla-lavender soap and leather-and-sweat musk. “Gods, Arthur, I love you, too.” He said the words reverently.
One more secret off his chest.
But Arthur was never going to know about his secret stash, no, that was a harmless secret and too embarrassing to even admit.
Arthur pressed kisses into Merlin’s curling hair, running his hand up and down his scales with light fingers, making Merlin shiver and nuzzle closer to him. “No more secrets Merlin. I don’t want anything between us to be left unsaid, you got that?”
Merlin pulled away from Arthur just enough to look at him, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He hated to lie to him, but it was embarrassing.
Arthur just looked at him expectantly. “ Mer lin.”
The Dragonlord sighed, admitting defeat. “Fine. I have a, very small, collection of things, that I may have taken from you and a few others.” Arthur raised his eyebrows. “It’s nothing that anyone would miss, just small things, I swear! Just, small things I carry around with me to have you close by, even if you aren’t there.”
Arthur nodded slowly. “This is a dragon thing, right? Hoarding? What else are you going to do, sprout wings and breathe fire?” He teased.
Merlin swatted his prince’s arm. “No, I’m not going to sprout wings or breathe fire! I think,” He added before carrying on. “And maybe it’s a Dragonlord thing. I’m not entirely certain seeing as I have very limited information on Dragonlords. I didn’t know I would grow scales, but I did. And I started… hoarding things, and my senses sharpened, and my reflects too. I’m not sure what else will change, but so far that’s it. I don’t sleep on piles of gold, I don’t breathe fire, though I am very good at fire magic, but I don’t breathe it. I suppose I could, or at least I could make it look like I breathe fire. That would actually be kind of cool, wouldn’t it -”
“ Mer lin,” Arthur interrupted, amusement in his voice. “You’re rambling.”
“Oh.” Merlin smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m just very happy to finally not have to keep myself a secret from you.”
Arthur chuckled, “You sap.”
Merlin lightly swatted him on the arm again, but he couldn’t help smiling and kissing his prince. Arthur kissed back happily, and it was a gentler kiss than their previous one. Merlin pulled away just as he heard the shambling walk of Gaius walking to the physician’s chambers.
“Gaius is coming back.”
Arthur looked a bit surprised at that, stepping back as Merlin carefully untangled himself from his arms. “Can you hear him coming?”
Merlin nodded and pulled his shirt on, just as Gaius opened the door. He froze in the doorway, obviously seeing how close they were, and that Merlin was just now putting his shirt back on. He immediately took a step forward.
“Sire -”
“He knows Gaius,” Merlin cut his uncle off. “He saw my scales and I told him everything.”
They both looked at Arthur, Merlin with a fond smile, and Gaius with a raised eyebrow that spoke hell for Arthur if he said anything wrong.
“I will keep his secret, Gaius, you don’t have to worry about me turning him in or making him leave. I’d never do that.” Arthur said, in the tone he would use for angry nobles that saw him too close to their visiting daughters.
Gaius seemed satisfied with that, and he nodded as he walked into the room. He set down his medicine bag and looked once more at the two.
“I am glad you have chosen to keep his secret, Prince Arthur. Merlin is very fond of you, I’m sure he would be devastated if you reacted any less than acceptingly.” He turned a pointed look from Arthur to Merlin, who was blushing and looking at the ground. Arthur just smiled appeasingly.
“Of course. I’m also rather fond of him.” Merlin coughed to disguise his laugh, still blushing like mad.
“Good. Now, what was the reason for your visit? Do you need more salve for your shoulder?” Gaius asked, eyeing the shoulder that had been bitten by the Questing Beast. Arthur just shook his head.
“No, thank you Gaius, but I have plenty in my chambers. I was actually looking for Merlin. I was hoping he could finish some things up before I turn in for the night.”
Merlin looked at Arthur curiously, wondering if that was the original reason why he had come down to the physician’s chambers, or if he was coming up with a quick excuse to see more of each other.
Gaius just nodded and waved a hand at Merlin. “Of course, Sire. Merlin isn’t busy with anything.”
Arthur nodded and smiled. “Good. Come on then, Merlin.”
He turned and strode out of the room with the air of a satisfied prince, and Merlin followed him with a small smile lighting his face.
The Dragonlord looked back at Gaius to see him smiling at them with a knowing look, and he once more blushed before hurrying after his prince.
Arthur and Merlin spent the rest of the night in Arthur’s chambers, talking about magic and dragons and anything else, all under the protection of a muffling charm, to make sure nobody picked up their conversations. They stayed up late talking and enjoying each other’s company, and Merlin ended up staying the night in the royal chambers, happier than he has ever been.
A dragon is always happiest when sleeping with his treasure.