#and morgause is like youre an IDIOT why would you want him included in this when he so OBVIOUSLY is against magic

[nextstopparis]

me explaining how everything would’ve been different after bbc merlin episode 2.08 the sins of the father if morgause had juST USED THAT DAMNED CRYSTAL SOONER and seen arthur actually fighting uther and being lied to and manipulated back into thinking uther was right because tHEN SHE COULDVE SOUGHT HIM OUT BUT ALONE THIS TIME AND DEFENDED HERSELF AND GOTTEN ARTHUR ON HER SIDE and then when she reached out to morgana the three of them would’ve teamed up and brought uther to his knees

[mischiefandspirits]

From the Start: The Last Dragonlord

It was supposed to be a one time thing. Arthur let the sorcerer run off with his life in return for him saving Arthur’s. He had never expected to see the boy again, especially not only two days later in Gaius’s chambers.

Also on AO3

Arthur glared out at the smoking remains of Camelot.

“This isn’t your fault,” Merlin whispered.

“Yes, it is.”

The warlock grabbed his shoulder and gently turned him. “No, it isn’t. The dragon used us and Morgause forced your hand. And if it wasn’t for me, you’d never have met the dragon. We both made that promise back with Sigan. If you have to blame anyone, blame me.”

Arthur pulled free and turned back to the window. “I was the one who wielded the sword that cut the dragon’s chains, the one who swore on his honor to free him immediately after defeating the Knights of Medhir. I am the one who wrought this destruction on Camelot.”

Arthur looked back at Merlin and rolled his eyes. “What is wrong with you today?”

“What?” he asked, rolling over to look at the prince.

“It pains me to admit it, but I do enjoy your surly retorts. In fact, it's probably your only redeemable feature.”

“Thanks.”

“There are loads of servants who can serve. So few are capable of making a complete prat of themselves.” Arthur carefully laid back on the bed, doing his best to ignore the pain from his injury. “What is it?”

Merlin stared at the ceiling for a moment before blurting out, “The Dragonlord is my father.”

“What?” Arthur nearly jerked upright, but a sharp pain kept him down.

The warlock nodded.

“How? What do you mean? How could he be your father? I thought you said you didn’t know your father.”

“I don’t. Gaius told me.”

“How would Gaius know?”

“Apparently he smuggled him out of Camelot with my mother’s help.”

“Gaius…” Arthur shook his head. “I’m too tired for this conversation.” He placed his uninjured arm over his eyes. “So what abilities does a Dragonlord have, exactly?”

“Controlling dragons, I guess. Gaius didn’t go into detail.

“If your father is a Dragonlord, can you learn to be one as well.”

“I don’t know. Gaius didn’t say.”

“Did Gaius tell you anything?”

“Not really. I might have stormed out right after he told me he was my father. I was angry that they’d kept it a secret.”

“It seems both our mother’s like their secrets,” Arthur sighed. “Especially where magic and our births are involved.”

Merlin flinched. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“Go to sleep, Merlin.”

“Goodnight, Arthur.”

“… Goodnight.”

Arthur yawned as he sat up, stretching his back out. “Merlin.”

When he didn’t receive a response, he looked around for his magical servant.

He was shocked to realize he was sitting in a cave, nestled within a pile of furs. There were supplies scattered about, including the remains of a cookfire. “Merlin?” he called again as he stood up. He stretched again then headed out of the cave.

Smiling, he spotted Merlin sitting on a rock. “I feel great! What the hell did you give me?”

“It was all down to Balinor.”

Arthur followed his gaze to see a man standing by a river. “So we found him, then? Thank heaven for that. Have you spoken to him?”

“Unfortunately. He won’t help.”

“What?”

“He doesn’t care. People are dying and he doesn’t -“ Merlin ducked his head.

Arthur frowned and glanced at the man. “Did you tell him? About you?”

“No.”

“Why?”

Merlin’s shoulders scrunched up and his fists clenched. “What would that say if he only helps because of me? If that even changes his mind. Maybe he’ll just tell me to stay here or go to mother. Or maybe he won’t care at all.”

Arthur scowled. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Arthur, please, don’t tell him.”

He wanted to. He wanted to shove Merlin in the man’s face to make him see how he was hurting his son. It wasn’t his place though.

He nodded and marched up to the man.

“I don't know what it is to have a son.”

“Or I a father.”

“You must not tell Uther.”

Merlin was setting up the firewood when Arthur returned from his patrol. “All clear?”

“For now.”

He hummed. “I… I told him.”

Arthur sat down on a log next to him. “How’d he take it?”

“Good, I think. He seemed happy.” Merlin looked up at him with a big smile and he snorted.

“So you were being a girl about it for nothing.”

“You’re such a prat.”

“Oh yeah?” Arthur hooked his arm around Merlin’s neck and dragged him in to dig his knuckles into the top of his head.

“Ow! Come on! Let go!”

A throat cleared and Arthur looked up to see Balinor glaring down at him.

Suddenly it occurred to the prince that the boy he had in a headlock was the son of a man with unknown power, a grudge against his family, and no way of knowing that this was all just horseplay and Arthur would never actually hurt Merlin, that he thought of Merlin as the closest thing he had to a best friend.

Arthur froze and Merlin took the chance to escape, laughing. “Clotpole.”

He shot the boy a look out of reflex. “Idiot.”

He looked back up and relaxed at seeing the Dragonlord’s scowl had fallen to bemused glancing between the two. Balinor set the branches he was carrying down next to the logs and moved to the firewood Merlin had set up.

“Oh, I’ll take care of that,” Merlin said, raising his hand.

Arthur realized what Merlin was about to do a second too late. “Mer-”

“Bæl on bryne.”

Fire engulfed the wood, making Balinor jump back and turn back to them.

“Merlin!”

Rubbing the back of his head where Arthur had smacked him, the warlock pouted. “What was that for?”

“Don’t just do that out in the open!”

“We’re the only ones around! You said so yourself!”

“Yes, except for -” Arthur waved his hand towards Balinor.

“What?” Merlin glanced briefly at the man before increasing his pout. “He’s not going to tell anyone. Even if he wasn’t my father, why would he? Uther wants him dead too.”

“What part of the less people who know, the better don’t you understand?”

“The part where he’s my father.”

“You buffoon!”

“Clotpole.”

“Dunderhead.”

“Turnip-Head.”

Arthur turned away from the warlock with a growl, which brought Balinor into his field of view.

The Dragonlord was watching him with a wary gaze, one hand on his sword. His own gaze narrowed and his hand matched the man’s.

Merlin, unaware of the two’s staredown, huffed and stood up. “Now if you’re done, I’m going to make us something to eat.”

The two stared at each other in silence until Merlin had reached the horses.

“He has magic, and you are aware of it,” Balinor stated.

“Have been since he came to Camelot.”

“And your father lets him live?”

“He doesn’t know, despite Merlin’s best attempts. I’ve been looking after his neck.”

Balinor crossed his arms, but didn’t look any less ready to attack and Arthur had dealt with enough mages to know the man didn’t need a sword to fight. “You would shelter him against your father’s laws?”

“Merlin has done much for me, most of it at my request.” Arthur looked over to the boy, who was digging through their bags. “If it weren’t for my father’s laws, I’d have made him a knight. Since I can’t, I merely do what I can to protect him. I owe him too much to turn him over to the pyre.”

“He’s your friend?” the Dragonlord asked, incredulous.

“Likely the closest thing to one I can have as a prince,” Arthur admitted reluctantly.

Balinor snorted. “Your father said something similar about Nimue and Gaius and look where they are now. Nimue hunted and Gaius banned from his magic.”

“Merlin isn’t Nimue.”

“And what do you know about Nimue?”

“I know she wasn’t as innocent as she claimed, even if she wasn’t as guilty as my father does.”

Balinor hummed, but said nothing else as Merlin returned.

Arthur watched as Balinor stroked the flames of their campfire. He glanced over at the still sleeping Merlin then leaned forwards. “So, what powers does a Dragonlord posses?”

Balinor ignored him.

“Will Merlin be one when he’s older?” Arthur asked.

There was silence.

“Is the lord part just referring to controlling dragons or do you actually have a noble title?” he continued, annoyance beginning to color his tone.

“The Dragonlords are not noble by power alone,” Balinor said and Arthur perked up. “My family was, though. My ancestor, Aurelianus Ambrosius, claimed lordship after serving your own in war. By birthright, I would be the family’s head and as such a lord.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “I’ve never heard of the Ambrosius family.”

“I’m not surprised. I’m sure your father destroyed all records of my family just as he did for all other noble families that had magic at their heart.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said, ducking his head as a familiar wave of guilt and anger tried to fill him.

Balinor watched him for a moment before nodding. “It is not on you and it is not you who should apologize.” He didn’t give the prince a chance to respond, moving over to set something in front of Merlin before settling back down on his furs to rest awhile longer.

“AHHHH!”

Arthur cursed then struck down the last of Cenred’s men. “Merlin!” he shouted, running up to where he’d left the warlock and his father.

He froze as he saw Merlin kneeling over the Dragonlord, whispering healing spell after healing spell. “No.”

Merlin didn’t acknowledge him, continuing to try to save his father’s life.

Balinor, on the other hand, looked up at him. “Do right by my son, Pendragon.”

Arthur knelt next to them. “I will, but without you, Camelot is doomed.”

He raised a shaky hand and set it on the back of his son’s neck, staring up at the boy. “The title isn’t completely false. Like a noble’s power, the power of the Dragonlord passes from father to son at the father’s death.” He dropped his hand and turned back to Arthur. “Your father knows this. He must not learn of our connection.”

“I swear on my honor, I will do whatever I can to keep my father from learning of what Merlin can do. No matter what, he will not face the pyre or any other form of execution.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he said before he closed his eyes and his head fell back.

Arthur bowed his head and set his hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Merlin.”

He yanked his arm away and kept incanting.

“Merlin, he’s gone.”

He shook his head.

The prince pulled him away from his father, turning him so they faced each other. “He’s gone.”

“No, I can still save him.”

“No, Merlin, you can’t.”

“H-he’s my father.”

Arthur hesitated, then pulled Merlin into a hug. “I know.”

“We’ve only just met.”

“I know.”

Arthur let the boy cry into his shoulder awhile before pulling back. “I’m sorry, but we can’t stay here, Merlin,” he said softly.

He nodded, scrubbing his face.

Arthur stood then helped Merlin to his feet. “We need to get back to Camelot, but I’ll give you time to give him his rites.”

“Thank you, sire.”

Prince and warlock pulled their horses to a stop in a clearing just out of sight of Camelot.

“Why are we stopping here?”

Arthur swung off Llamrei and drew his sword. “We need to face the dragon where no one can see. Call him here.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You heard what your father said.”

Merlin slid off Hengroen. “I’ve never done this before, Arthur. I’m not sure if I'm strong enough to stand up to him.”

“That’s what you said about the griffin.”

“Yes, but -”

“And what did I tell you then?”

“That if I can slow time then that should be easy.”

“Exactly.” Arthur slapped his back. “And you were even born for this.”

“Arthur -”

“Just do it, Merlin.”

“I’ll try,” he sighed and turned to the clearing.

Arthur rolled his eyes and shoved him. “Don’t try. You’re terrible at trying, like most other things. Just relax and let your instincts take hold.”

The warlock gave him a look, but stepped forward. He closed his eyes and reached within himself.

In the evening light, he felt the presences of Arthur and the horses, and he felt the presence of one other.

“Do it, Merlin.”

Merlin opened his eyes and roared, “Dracan! Nán dyd ǽlc áciere miss! Eftsíðas eom ála cræt! Géate' stǽr ábære gárrǽs! Géate cyre. Mé tácen átende diegollice. Car grise áþes.”

A second roar answered him and a moment later Kilgharrah flew into the clearing, landing in front of the two. The dragon lowered itself and curled into a bow, it’s body drooping as if bearing a heavy weight.

Arthur stepped in front of Merlin, raising his sword.

“His heart’s on the right, not left,” Merlin whispered.

“I am the last of my kind, Merlin,” Kilgharrah said as Arthur approached. “Whatever wrongs I have done, do not make me responsible for the death of my noble breed.”

“It is not Merlin you need to atone to.”

“And yet it is his power holding me here.”

“Arthur is my prince,” Merlin said. “It is his kingdom you attacked, his people you’ve hurt, so it is he you have to answer to.”

Kilgharrah turned to Arthur. “Your father’s men have ended the lives of all the great dragons of old. Will you finish his work?”

“After what you’ve done, it’s only right to execute you.”

“Have I not paid. More than twenty years I was imprisoned in that cave while innocent.”

“And that makes it right to hurt all those innocent people?”

“Surely you can understand my rage and grief. Can understand why I would lash out at your father in any way I could.”

“Not at the expense of my people!”

Kilgharrah lowered back into a bow. “I am at My Lord’s mercy, My King. And he is at yours. Do with me as you will, but please, consider my side. And my connection to the young warlock. We are kin, after all.”

Arthur’s grip tightened on his sword. “Enough. No more of your manipulations.”

Kilgharrah opened his mouth to speak and Merlin yelled, “Silence!”

The dragon’s mouth snapped closed.

Arthur glared at the ground before raising his sword to point at Kilgharrah’s face. “You will leave Camelot at once. You will only return if Merlin calls for you and you will leave again after. If you ever return to stay again without my blessing or if you ever take another innocent life, your life will be mine. You will spend the rest of my life serving the kingdom you have ravaged. Only once I have passed will your service be complete. One lifetime to atone for the many you ended in your futile quest for vengeance. Am I understood?”

Kilgharrah bowed further. “It is as you say, My King.”

Arthur planted his sword in the ground. “Then go, I have shown you a mercy I’m not sure you deserve. Leave before I change my mind.”

“My King, what you have shown is what you will be. I will not forget your clemency. I'm sure our paths will cross again.”

The dragon spread his wings and took to the air, heading away from Camelot.

Arthur watched him until a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned to see Merlin smiling at him.

“Did I make a mistake?”

“No, sire, I don’t think you did.”

“He killed so many people.”

“As did your father. It doesn’t make you wrong to want to end the bloodshed. As Kilgharrah said, it makes you what you will one day be: A great king.”

Arthur snorted and pushed him away. “The Once and Future King.”

“Exactly,” Merlin chirped with his usual dopey smile. “Besides, it’s not like Kilgharrah will be able to attack again. If he does, we can put a stop to it.”

“Oh, now you're confident.”

Merlin shrugged. “It wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it’d be.”

Arthur grabbed his sword and started for the horses. “So once again, you were just being a girl about it.”

“At least I wasn't a prat,” Merlin tossed back, following.

Arthur paused before entering the chamber he knew his father waited in. “You’re dismissed, Merlin.”

“What?”

Arthur checked to make sure they were alone before saying in a lowered voice, “I need to inform my father about what happened, including your father’s death. I doubt he’ll have any kind words to say and you don’t deserve to hear them. Take the rest of the day off. In fact, take a fortnight. Go to your mother. Mourn.”

The warlock stared at him before his eyes went soft and he gave a deep bow. “Thank you.”

Arthur squeezed his shoulder. “If Freya and Mordred return before you, I’ll send her to you.”

Merlin glanced at the doorway before pulling Arthur into a hug. “Thank you, truly.”

Arthur patted his back then pushed him away. “Yes, yes, now get off.”

He only got a quick look at Merlin’s teary-eyed smile before he was darting down the hall.

Arthur took a deep breath and quickly went over the story he and Merlin had decided upon before striding through the doors.

Uther and his advisors rose to meet the prince.

“Father, I bring good news. The dragon will never bother us again.”

“You found the Dragonlord?” Uther came around to grab his son’s shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Excellent.” He glanced behind Arthur with a frown. “Where is he?”

“Dead.” He saw Gaius bow his head. “We found him where we were told and we convinced him to help, but on our way to Camelot we were attacked by Cenred’s men and the Dragonlord was injured in the fight. We were able to defeat the dragon just outside the city, but the wound was too severe and Balinor succumbed to his injuries.”

“Then we are rid of two threats, that is great news indeed!” Arthur barely held back his frown as Uther turned to the others. “This calls for a feast.”

“Perhaps we should hold off for a few days. Let the people clean up and mourn their dead first.” And give Merlin time to get out of the city before people begin celebrating his father’s death.

“Of course, you’re right.” Uther turned back to Arthur. “You’ve done well.”

“Thank you, father.”

“Rise and shine!”

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur groaned.

“Not Merlin.”

Arthur picked up his head to see Mordred standing in front of him.

“Why are you sleeping at your desk?”

Arthur blinked at the boy before sitting up straight. “When did you get back?” he yawned.

“Late last night. I told Jacob I could take care of you on my own today. Gwen told us what happened. Freya should be leaving soon, if she hasn’t already.”

Arthur nodded and pulled the breakfast plate Mordred had brought closer.

“So why were you asleep on your desk?” Mordred asked again, grabbing a roll and dropping into the chair Leon had been using the night before as they went over patrols.

The prince glared at the theft. “You’ve been spending too much time with Merlin.”

“He says you don’t care,” he explained, waving the roll.

“He lied.”

“He also said you’d say that.”

“You’ve definitely been spending too much time with that idiot,” Arthur snorted.

“Why were you sleeping on -”

“Would you stop asking that?”

“Yes, sire,” Mordred agreed. He nibbled on his bread for a few moments before leaning over to read a paper on Arthur’s desk. “Why are you reading about the noble families? Didn’t you memorize all this stuff ages ago.”

“The current families, yes. But I’m looking at the old records for the families that no longer exist in our records.”

“Why?”

“Something Merlin’s father said to me. He said that my father erased the records of any noble families with magic. I’m trying to see if I can find them. Well, one of them in particular since I wouldn’t be able to tell the ones that were erased from the ones that died out.”

“Which one are you looking for?”

“The Ambrosius family.”

“Why that one?”

“It’s Merlin’s.”

Modred dropped the roll, which was quickly spirited away by Cavall. “What?”

“Merlin’s father was Lord Ambrosius.”

“You’re kidding?” the boy said, standing up to get a better look at the papers.

“Not according to his father. Which is why I’m trying to look for his family. Hopefully, it will give some clue to finding the rest.”

“Does Merlin know?”

“Not yet. I’ll tell him once he gets back.”

“Huh, so Merlin’s a Lord. Lord Merlin. Lord Emrys.”

Arthur smirked. “I will give you a gold coin if you greet him as Lord Emrys when he returns.”

“You know he’d hate that.”

“Exactly!”

Arthur was eating lunch when Merlin stumbled in. He swallowed down his chicken then said, “You’re finally back then?”

“You did give me a fortnight.”

Before Arthur could respond, Mordred came in with Arthur’s laundry. He immediately dropped into a bow. “Lord Emrys, Your Highness.”

Arthur snorted as Melin gave the boy an annoyed look. He turned the look on Arthur. “Did you put him up to this?”

“Of course not,” Arthur lied before openly handing Mordred a gold coin.

“Prat.”

“I got you something, too,” Arthur said before gesturing towards his wardrobe.

As he was already inside it putting away Arthur’s clothes, Mordred reached into the hidden compartment and pulled out a black cloak.

Merlin frowned when he tossed it to him. “This is my cloak.”

“The shoulder, Merlin.”

Merlin turned the cloak to look at the shoulder. The faded portion had been covered by a patch, a crest showing a silver dragon in flight with a shield knot upon its chest in black.

“Well?”

“It’s nice.”

“It’s your family’s crest, your father’s crest.”

Merlin looked up at him. “My father.”

Arthur nodded. “I found it in the old records. You can’t wear it anywhere my father could see, but since that is your secret up to illegal activities cloak, I thought it would be fine.”

“It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

“There’s something else.” Arthur glanced at Mordred, who quickly took his leave. “Sit down.”