Dragonlord Reveal Pt 2: The Darkest Hour Rewrite

Dragonlord reveal pt 2: The Darkest Hour Rewrite

Read chapter 1 here

Read it on AO3 here

Arthur could hear nothing but his own footsteps as he walked towards the rusty boat. He was faster than the others, but he knew they were catching up with him.

From above he heard a gruesome screeching sound. The wyverns had returned, and they seemed to dive down to attack the knights. They all still had their swords drawn, and so his feet automatically dropped into a defensive stance when suddenly a thunderous sound boomed across the isle.

“Leáfan" Merlin shouted into the sky, his voice much darker and stronger than anything Arthur had ever heard before. It sounded like thunder rumbling in his chest; powerful and strong. Arthur guessed it was a command — not so different from the ones he would use on his knights in battle. He had no idea what Merlin had said, but if he was a betting man, he would probably be correct in that Merlin ordered them to leave.

The wyverns bowed their head at Merlin before flying away, soon becoming nothing more than small black dots in the sky. They could be mistaken for birds, but Arthur knew better. They were fire breathing beasts that Merlin had simply asked to leave. And so they did.

It took every ounce of warrior training not to flinch at the sound of his best friend using magic.

Was it magic?

How would one describe what Merlin had just done, what he had admitted to. Merlin was a dragonlord. His own silly, gangly, loyal, foolish, Merlin had powers to rival a king. In fact, he probably could rival a king. With power to control beasts like that with nothing more than a simple word…the thought was terrifying. No wonder his father had killed all the dragons.

And Merlin’s entire family he reminded himself. Except Hunith, thank goodness Uther never touched her. But the warning from the Caelliach was ringing in his ear. Arthur was the son of the man responsible for Merlin’s family legacy’s end. Not only was he powerful. He was of noble blood. If Merlin told the truth earlier, then Balinor had been a duke, and his seat was now rightfully Merlin’s.

What a thought. Merlin, a duke. Just for a moment Arthur allowed himself to internally laugh at the idea of Merlin sitting in the uncomfortable council chairs. But as soon as the thought came, he banished it from his mind. The fleeting moment of joy was over.

“Let’s go” He commanded and started untying the ropes to the boat. Sir Percival had been in charge of securing it in place, and had done a great job at that, for Arthur struggled to untie the knots, and not just because his hands were shaking.

“Here, Sire” the man in question walked up to him and began helping him. Two sets of hands began working the rope. “Are you quite sure it’s done? That we can leave and the veil will remain closed?” Percival asked his king, voice carefully open.

Arthur found he had no answer. The silence surround them was excruciating, for no one dared speak. To tell the truth, he knew it in his heart that Merlin had closed the veil for good, but it was too raw to explain. So instead he gave a curt answer to quell the question on everyone’s mind.

“It is done. The Caelliach said that M… That the blood was accepted by the gods. We cannot afford to stay here any longer, we ought to return back to Camelot as soon as possible”

The knights started moving towards the boat. Percival and Leon got in first, yet the boat seemed to stay perfectly afloat under their heavy weight as if by magic. Arthur watched as the others carefully stepped into the small boat, until it was onto him and Merlin remaining on shore.

Merlin stood still, eyes fixed in the stone floor beneath his wet boots. “Am I coming with?” He whispered, not even dignifying Arthur by looking at him.

“What?” Arthur sputtered, “Just get in you idiot,” he grabbed for Merlin’s shoulder, but the dark-haired boy simply moved out of his way as if burned by Arthur’s touch. Merlin had never recoiled from Arthur before, and he found that it stung more than when he first heard Merlin call himself a dragonlord.

A king does not plead. But Arthur is not yet king, only Prince Regent. So he allowed Merlin to hear the desperation in his voice as he said “just get in”

“Say something” Merlin demanded after an hours ride. They had quickly found their way back to their horses and made way for Camelot. No one had spoken since Arthur begged Merlin to get in the boat.

“Say what exactly?” Arthur snarled. Now that the blasted island was far behind them, he allowed the fear to dissipate and instead welcomed the anger and hurt he had buried earlier. Arthur rode hard ahead, but threw his head back to look at Merlin who was riding next to Lancelot and Gwaine. Of course he was with them. It’s always them. “I’d rather think it’s you who should say something, Merlin”

“I’m not apologising for saving our lives, sire. And I’m not apologising for being born like this” Merlin jutted his chin out in that petulant little way of his. Gods he was annoying when he was right.

Arthur moved Llamrei to the side and gestures for Leon and Elyan to lead on. The knights did as he commanded because they, unlike Merlin, actually listen to his orders. He waited until Merlin’s horse, whom the idiot had named Apple, came trotting towards him. Lancelot seemed to understand his wishes, and moved away give the two of them some room.

Gwaine remained stalwart by Merlin’s side, not knowing whose orders to follow. Eventually, he gave into Merlin’s pleading eyes and with a huff of dissatisfaction rode over to Lancelot.

It was only a pretence of privacy. All of the knights could and would hear their conversation, but at least Arthur could pretend he was alone with Merlin as they spoke.

“I won’t lie and say I’m happy about this. Well, I am happy that the veil is closed and that Camelot is safe again, but.” He paused to gather his thoughts. How does one put into words the feelings he was currently experiencing. Betrayal, anger, hurt, and grief on Merlin’s behalf.

“It’s not just this secret that bothers me Merlin. It’s the fact that you kept it a secret. Why did you never tell me? Did you not trust me enough with this? I thought we were friends”

Arthur hated the thought of Merlin grieving his father alone. He himself had leaned on Merlin so much during those first weeks of his father’s sickness. He still does. Merlin was like a rock to him, always there, steady and strong. But now it had crumbled into dust.

He was angry, furious, and confused, but most of all, he was hurt. He needed Merlin by his side, he needed that constant support and encouragement. He thought they were equals; that they never lied to each other. Turns out he was wrong.

And the worst part of it all was that he couldn’t entirely blame Merlin either. His manservant had no choice but to keep this part of himself secret. The risk was too great should anyone find out. And Arthur is not yet king, if Uther orders him executed his word will stand, despite his sickness.

“It was never my choice, Arthur. I was born to be a dragonlord. Upon my father’s death, I would inherit his powers just like Sir Leon would inherit his father's estate. Even if I had never met Balinor, I would still inherit his powers. But unlike Sir Leon who will one day become a Duke upon his father's death, my lot In life cannot be traded or taken away. Uther may die tomorrow and another knight may challenge you to the throne. That is not how my powers work"

Merlin was rambling now, in his usual way, where the words kept coming out of his mouth like water from a waterfall. Unable to stop until it runs dry.

“These powers exist within me, I cannot just ignore them, or pretend it’s not there. Dragonspeak is not something I studied or practiced, it just appeared within me when we faced Killgarrah that night. These powers make me part dragon, part man. Killgarrah and I share blood; he is my kin and in some obscure unfathemable way, my uncle. And I cannot ignore that."

Merlin looked resigned to his fate as if it was a heavy burden to bear. Arthur could not keep his eyes off Merlin as he spoke. He indeed had no knowledge of a dragonlord's powers, and it was just as fascinating as it was frightening to hear what changes had happened to his friend in a matter of seconds after Balinors death. To only know your father for a day and a half before he dies in front of you, leaving an unknown and broken legacy in his wake...Arthur grieved for Merlin.

The knights in front of them kept quiet, but he could tell they were all speaking to each other through their eyes. They too looked stricken with grief. It was clear that they were all listening to Merlin, whose voice hitched when he began explaining more.

“Imagine that you were the only knight left in Albion. The only one, all the others had been executed and you’d been made to watch. You escape and wander the land for twenty years thinking you’re the last of your kind, the only one still following the knight's code and serving your king."

Merlin allowed the knights a moment to think and really imagine such a life. It sounded horrible, Sir Leon looked uncomfortable and Arthur felt it even more so. Life as a lone knight. It was unbearable.

“But then suddenly, you hear whispers of another knight. If you can find him you will no longer be alone, you can share your experience and life with him. Someone just like you, someone who can understand. But it turns out you only get one day with him before you’re killed, and you die knowing that he will now be alone forever”.

Merlin looked resolute not to cry, but his eyes were red and tears were pooling near the waterline. Still, his jaw was held firm and his hands tight around the reins. “That was my father’s life for the last twenty years. He was awaiting execution when he escaped Camelot. And then later, he had to flee Ealdor after only a few months because Uther heard rumors of him staying there. Your father risked war with Essetir by sending his knights over the border just to kill him."

It was heartbreaking to hear and Arthur was about to speak when Merlin opened his mouth one last time. "So my mum was alone and Balinor never knew he had a son. Nor I a father."

It became silent again after that. No one spoke, and Arthur decided it was time they made camp for the night. It would still be another two-day ride before they reached Camelot, but at least, they could all sleep knowing that their kingdom and lives were safe. Merlin made quick work on the bedrolls and cooking gear. Once done with his work he looked over to the fire the knights were in charge of building.

Elyan struggled with the wet flint, smacking it against his blade, but no sparks came. The logs too remained unwilling to catch on fire. With cold fingers, Merlin reached over and gently took the flint and knife from Elyan. He didn't speak, but his eyes glowed gold and suddenly a small flame emerged among the logs. The small flame grew quickly into a steady fire, warming their camp.

Sir Leon looked completely baffled as he muttered "You spoke no incantation. There was no spell". Privately, Arthur agreed in his confusion. He had seen sorcerers conjure flames before, and it had always been a powerful and dangerous thing. Merlin's tiny flame seemed nothing like that.

"I don't need one. Controlling fire comes just as naturally to me as swordwork does to you. It's something I could do blindfolded." It was obvious he was somewhat proud of this ability, just like any knight would be of their control over a sword. Of course, the idiot would not allow Arthur a moment to think before he said something he had never wanted to hear.

"Before you bind me to the stake, you should probably know that one of the powers of dragon nobility is being immune to fire." Merlin carelessly put his hand inside the flames and picked up a hot, red stone. "It's how I'm able to get your bathwater so hot" He offered a sad smile to his Prince as he put the rock down and withdrew his perfectly fine hand from the flames.

Arthur felt anger like never before. His voice rose louder than he had intended “Do you really think I would execute you?”

Arthur didn’t know how to exist without Merlin by his side. Who was Arthur without Merlin? They were Merlin and Arthur, Arthur and Merlin. They came as a pair. He’s heard several of his knights and staff joke that you rarely see one without the other, and if you do — something is terribly wrong.

And right now something was terribly wrong.

Merlin, a dragonlord. Merlin, who could create flames without even uttering a spell. His Merlin. His Merlin was bound to be corrupted by the magic that lived in his veins.

But then he remembered Balinors behavior. Sure, the man was rude and standoffish, but be had not caused them any harm — in fact, he had saved Arthur’s life despite knowing whose son he was. Was that the behavior of an evil man? And if the dragon-abilities are inherent, he must’ve been a dragonlord for well over thirty years at that point, so why was he not corrupted yet?

Perhaps Merlin’s dragon abilities were not as corruptive as magic, he thought. Hope begun to bloom in his chest as he realised his Merlin might be saved from the same magical madness that consumed Morgana.

Merlin sighed again, and Arthur hated it. Merlin was always so fierce, so happy and full of life. “Many have been burnt for less. Just a whisper of the word sorcery and your father ordered the gallows built. If he finds out whose son I am, he will have me executed in his stead”

It was true, but Arthur would never let that happen.

"I am not my father. And I will not see my best friend die"