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“Did he talk?”
“What do you think?” The faint smell of rusty iron still clinging to him made her stomach coil with desire.
“And…” she prompted eagerly, arms encircling his shoulders.
“There are rumours of our survival in Camelot,” he murmured, tracing the curve of her neck with his index finger. “Uther’s adamant we’re dead.” Morgana scoffed at that. Of course he was, wretched fool!
“And the Great Purge continues,” Merlin concluded through gritted teeth. They didn’t speak of the Purge; in fact they actively avoided it. The loss of their brethren was painful (though most killed were devoid of all magic), the knowledge they held some blame for it more so. Merlin felt a greater burden than she did.
In the end it was Merlin who had failed to bring Uther to his knees and exposed himself and Morgana, igniting Uther’s hate for magic once more. Granted the only reason Merlin had done so was to save her; they hadn’t counted on Arthur figuring out their intentions and poisoning her. Uther’s life for her’s. One life for another. Only it hadn’t been one life, it'd been hundreds. Maybe she should feel guilty for that. She doesn’t.
“But we will end it.” The determination in his voice vibrated through her, shaking them both from their reverie. Pushing her forehead against his, Morgana nodded her agreement. For a moment they'd stood in silence, breathing one another in and occasionally brushing their lips together in chaste kisses of comfort.
“Did he say anything else, anything of value?” Morgana eventually said breaking the silence, keen to know more about the interrogation. She secretly hoped there’d be a snippet of information she could use to sway Merlin’s previous decision to hold off on any further attacks on Camelot.
The last one had been a just over a year ago. As they’d planned, Merlin had released Kilgharrah from his captivity. He had then rained down fire upon Camelot’s walls; that was, until the poison had been forced down Morgana’s throat and they had to cease the attack. Only Kilgharrah hadn’t wanted to stop and in the end Merlin had to use his dragon lord abilities to force him into retreat. They hadn’t seen or heard from Kilgharrah since. Merlin refused to summon him, claiming, “He’ll come to us when he’s ready.” Morgana suspected he meant to say, “When he’s forgiven me.”
“No.” Merlin‘s voice brought her back from her thoughts. Sighing, she pulled away, her disappointment evident.
“It doesn’t matter,” Merlin consoled her, rubbing soothing circles into the base of her back. “I didn’t expect him to.”
“No? Then why go to the trouble of…”
“For the fun of it.” A grin suddenly lit up his features; if it wasn’t for the murderous intent shining behind his eyes it would look comical. Morgana can’t help but mimic his expression. The knight Merlin had been torturing tormented screams had painted a delightful picture in her mind.
“Speaking of which,” Merlin added, gesturing towards the table. “I have something for you.” Stealing a glance over his shoulder, Morgana sneered devilishly at the silver platter.
“I wonder what it could be?” She said feigning ignorance. Playing along with the game, Merlin shrugged. Morgana hurried towards the table, dragging him behind her. When she started to reach for the cover, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and abruptly tugged her back.
Merlin tutted playfully into her ear. Morgana understood his meaning and for a second felt ashamed she hadn’t thought of it first. Concentrating on her goal she searched within her for the source of her powers. It was a lot easier now that it had been; only taking a second for her eyes to flash gold. The lid began to rise.
“For your collection.” Merlin’s hot breath curled down her neck, causing shivers to run up and down her spine. Morgana bit her lip in excitement; it’d had been a long time since Merlin had gifted her with one of these.
“Beautiful.” She breathed, eyes sparkling. The bloody heart shone back.
“I thought you’d like it.” Hands at her hips, Merlin began to sway them slightly.
Eyes flashing gold once more, Morgana disintegrated the heart into flames, leaving only ash which she then bottled, all without moving from Merlin’s arms. Pretty impressive considering she couldn’t even control her powers a year ago.
“Did you do it yourself?” she asked seductively, reaching and wrapping an arm over his neck, pulling him closer to her.
“With my bare hands.” he growled, kissing her neck. Body humming in delight, she tilted her neck to give him better access.
“Soon Uther’s will lie on that plate,” he snarled, teeth scraping over her skin and leaving gossebumps in their wake.
“And how long will that be?” The impatience in her voice instantly made him regret his words.
“Soon.” Attempting to distract her, Merlin ran his hands up and over the curves of her body. Although her muscles twitched in response, Morgana’s mind was now trained on other ideas.
“How long is soon?”
Merlin groaned, releasing her.
“Merlin.”
“Morgana,” He pleaded, pouring himself a goblet of wine. He was in no mood to argue, being tired from his earlier exploits. Torture was no easy task.
“Well?” The irritation in her voice was growing by the second.
“Not yet,” he stressed, warning her not to push further.
“Why not?” Morgana had never been one to take a hint.
“We’ve been through this.” Taking a long swig from the goblet, Merlin gulped down the liquid as fast as possible, trying to control his rage.
“Yes I know, first you wanted to make Uther believe we were dead,” Morgana droned, repeating a speech Merlin had given her many times over.
“So we’ll have a surprise advantage,” Merlin mumbled into the goblet before he poured more wine down his throat. It did nothing for his frustration.
“Then you wanted to join together the druid clans.”
“To take a kingdom, you need an army. Tell me you’re not so arrogant as to think we could do it alone.”
“Weren’t you?” she ruthlessly spat.
“YES, and look where it got us, you almost died!” Merlin shouted, slamming his goblet onto the table, the thud of it forcing her into silence. Morgana forgot too easily the anguish he’d gone through to save her. The price he’d paid. Months spent at her bedside, draining himself dry to sustain her life until finally she could breathe on her own.
“But you saved me,” she soothed, her anger dampened by the memory. She had not forgotten as Merlin believed. “And I grow stronger every day.” Grasping his hand, she gave it a loving squeeze.
“That you do.” Merlin agreed, his own annoyance swiftly fading at her tenderness. Lifting their joined hands he planted a kiss to the inside of her wrist.
“So why don’t we attack?”
He dropped her hand with a loud groan and moved away.
“We’ve united the clans, all that we know of have pledged their allegiance to us.” Morgana argued stalking after him with purpose.
“You can’t think Uther can withstand us, not now,” she persisted, frustrated by his apparent lack of faith in their combined skills, in her magic.
“It’s not that.” Merlin sighed, sensing her hurt.
“Then what? Surely the longer we wait, the stronger Uther will become again. He’s already rebuilt the parts of Camelot Kilgharrah destroyed.”
“The walls, perhaps, but not the foundations.”
Morgana flicked her eyes to the heavens. She hated riddles.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She queried with a sigh and poured herself a glass of wine.
“Before, only those with magic remembered the first Great Purge clearly and the crimes committed. And those without looked to Arthur for salvation.”
Morgana sipped at her wine, holding back the several snide comments about her brother that popped into her head.
“But now they know.” A bitter grin formed on his lips. “Like father like son.”
“But what does that have to…”
“When we take Camelot we will need the people to be behind us.”
Morgana frowned, anger rising once more.
“The throne is rightfully mine,” she hissed. Though the words and their meaning left a foul taste in her mouth, even Morgana could recognise the asset her true parentage gave them.
“It’s not enough.”
When her eyes snapped upon him murderously, Merlin held out his hands, palms up in a gesture of peace. Jaw clenched tight she arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain.
“If you take a kingdom by force, birth right or not, you spend the entire time fighting to keep it, unless the people want you there.” Merlin gesticulated with a closed fist into his palm, emphasising his point.
There was wisdom in his words and even Morgana, who didn’t give a damn whether they wanted her as queen or not had to admit it. She’d witnessed first hand what a tyrant rule was; there was no victory in swapping one for another. She did not what to be her father’s daughter.
“Fine.” Begrudgingly, she gave in. Merlin embraced her, lips pressing to her temple. Despite her self Morgana tucked into his side, enjoying the warmth he supplied. It wasn’t over; both of them knew that, but for tonight at least she could wait a little longer.
----
“Merlin.”
From a deep sleep, Merlin stirred, his own name ringing in his ears.
“Merlin.”
“Morgana?” He murmured into the pillow, he received no reply from the sleeping form beside him.
“Merlin.” The voice was familiar but still hazed by sleep he could not place it.
“Emrys.” His eyes snapped open.
“Kilgharrah,” he whispered into the night air.
----
Morgana watched the flames of the fire quietly, tapping her foot to the rhythm of their dance. It was two nights since she’d awoken to an empty space beside her and not a note in sight. It was unlike Merlin to leave her in such a manner, to leave her at all. She’d feared when the first day had gone by that knights had taken him, only dismissing the idea when she realised they would have taken her too. He was alive, of that she was sure; she’d have felt it otherwise. Still the question remained, if he wasn’t dead and he hadn’t been taken where the hell was he?
Time ticked on as she sat alone. The sun had set hours ago; the full moon now took its throne in the cloudless night sky. She was just starting to drift off when the sound of beating wings brought her back into reality. She knew it was the dragon the moment the sound had flooded her ears, and she knew who was riding the beast.
In a flurry of anger and relief she stormed outside, just in time to see Kilgharrah touch down on the forest floor. Merlin jumped down, rushing towards her with a wide grin. Morgana‘s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing; she’d soon wipe that smile of his face.
Her planned insults, however, turned into a loud shriek as he lifted her off the ground, spinning her round wildly. Merlin laughed as she grasped onto his shoulders tightly, screaming for him to stop. Eventually he placed her back on solid ground. Still dizzy from the spinning she wobbled on the spot. Merlin chuckled, placing his hands on her hips to keep her steady. Furious, she slapped his hands away.
“Where the hell have you been?” she screamed. “I could kill you! I should kill you! You selfish, idiotic…”
“God, I love you,” Merlin sighed, before grabbing the back of her neck and bringing their lips together passionately. Morgana was too shocked to do anything at first, but when his tongue swept over her bottom lip, her body sparked to life.
Entangling her hands in his hair, she tugged and pulled, eliciting moans of pleasure from Merlin. Occasionally she pulled harder, turning pleasure to pain; punishment for leaving her like that. Merlin smiled against her, nipping at her bottom lip and drawing in into his own mouth as he dipped her backwards.
“Are you quite finished?” Kilgharrah’s deep voice broke through the moment. She’d completely forgotten about the dragon. Merlin pulled away, kissing the tip of her nose.
“For now.” A promise for later shone in his eyes. Morgana’s belly flip flopped at the sight. She wasn’t sure if she was more excited or terrified. She’d never see Merlin so…she didn’t know what he was…but it was quite alarming.
“Where were you?” she asked breathlessly, smoothing down the crumpled material of her dress. He wasn’t getting away with it that easily. Walking back to Kilgharrah with a spring in his step, Merlin picked up a satchel she hadn’t noticed was lying beside the dragon’s giant paws.
“Getting you a present.”
Morgana folded her arms over her chest, not impressed.
“Hold on, wait till you see it.”
She raised an eyebrow, curiosity now stirring inside her. Clearly, whatever Merlin had got a hold of was important enough from him to leave without a word and the fact it’d cause such an intense joy within him was another reason for her to suspect this was important. Opening the leather bag, Merlin pulled out a large…egg. It couldn’t be, could it?
“Is…is..is..?” she stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.
“Yes,” Merlin whispered, holding the egg out towards her. Morgana’s hands shook violently as she closed the distance between them, surprise and excitement coursing through her veins.
“How?” she asked in amazement.
“Kilgharrah found it, in the tomb of Ashkanar.”
“Is it still alive?” Gently she brushed her fingers over the shell. It felt warm.
“It can live for more than a thousand years.” The dragon’s voice echoed in the night. Once again she’d forgotten about his presence.
“It seems you are not the last of your kind after all,” she joked. Kilgharrah released a gruff puff of air that sounded almost like a laugh, if he was capable of such a thing.
“It would seem not.” The dormant life inside the egg seemed to spark in acknowledgement.
“When will it hatch?” Her eyes flicked between Merlin and Kilgharrah, unsure who would have the answer.
“Young dragons were called into the world by the Dragon Lord’s, only they had the power to summon them from the egg. As the last Dragon Lord this solemn duty falls to Merlin.” Kilgharrah explained. Merlin smirked, clutching the egg close to him. A part of her wanted to slap him, for looking so damn pleased with himself, the other half swelled in pride.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” She could hardly contain her excitement, rocking on the balls of her feet as Merlin placed the egg down on a nearby tree stump.
“What do you have to do?” She didn’t want to delay the process but her curiosity got the better of her.
“Merlin must give the dragon a name.”Kilgharrah explained once more.
What, no blood scarifies? Morgana almost laughed at how simple it was. How easy to unleash a gigantic force of power, that would be on their side.
“Make it a good one.” She slipped her hand into Merlin’s. He flashed her a quick grin before closing his eyes tightly. The whole world seemed to stop suddenly. Morgana held her breath, heart pounding in her chest.
“Aithusa.” Merlin released the word in his deep dragon’s tones. To her it sounded like a growl, shaking her to her core. The air seemed to spark with magic as the egg began to tremble and stir, pieces crumbling to the floor a small head emerged, mewing as it greeted the world.
“A white dragon,” Kilgharrah breathed in the softest tone she’d ever heard him use. Aithusa, now fully emerged, stretched out his wings and lent up on its hind legs staring up at Merlin and Morgana with wide eyes.
Carefully Morgana knelt before the baby dragon, fingers outstretched towards the creature. Understanding her meaning, Aithusa lent towards her, until her fingers brushed against his head in greeting. Morgana could not hold back the giddy joy she felt; it spread across her face in a bright smile.
“A white dragon,” Kilgharrah repeated, his voice returning to its normal authoritarian manner, “is indeed a rare thing and fitting, for in the dragon tongue you named him after the ‘light of the sun’. No dragon birth is without meaning; sometimes the meaning is hard to see but this time I believe it is clear.”
“Indeed.” There was an intention in Merlin’s voice that made Morgana turn away from her newly found friend.
“What does that mean?” She daren’t get her hopes up but there was far too much meaning in the way he’d spoken for her not to. Merlin looked at them both, Aithusa and her, eyes shining.
“This was the sign I was waiting for. It’s time.”
“Time for what?” She knew, of course, what Merlin was referring to but needed him to say the words out loud. Too many times over the past year, Merlin had gotten her hopes up only to dash them at the last second.
Aithusa moaned in protest as she got to her feet. Flapping his wings, he lifted himself off the tree stump, flying a few feet into the air before fluttering back down. Morgana gasped and clapped her encouragement, momentarily distracted.
“Kilgharrah, I want you to send messages to the Druids, tell them to meet us at Ismere; that should be a safe place to gather.”
Morgana’s head snapped around once more just in time to see Kilgharrah take off, wings beating loudly as he soared into the night sky. They were going to Ismere. Finally.
“What is it time for?” Morgana grabbed Merlin’s arm, forcing him to turn his attention to her. She was desperate for the words now, needed them like air. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, Merlin stroked her cheek, lips twitching upwards in a half smile.
“A new Queen.”