Merthur One-shots

The Last Dragonlord

Summary: What if Arthur wasn't unconscious when Merlin banished Kilgharrah?
How would he have taken the reveal of Merlin's magic?

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Merlin sat atop a horse, watching as Kilgharrah circled the clearing, several feet in the air. The knights were pressed closely together, each holding a lance, protected by masses of armour and chainmail. Merlin shivered, whether it was from fear or the cold he didn’t know. Wide, blue eyes stared fearfully up at the reptile as the silence seemed to stretch on for hours.

“Hold firm,” warned Arthur, placing a helmet atop his head.

Merlin knew they had no chance, knew he would have to interfere. The chances of them making it out of this alive were low. The chances of him making it out without his magic being revealed were nearly none. He only hoped that Arthur would banish him instead of burn him. He needed to help Arthur with his destiny and he didn’t think he could stand it if Arthur’s eyes, usually filled with fondness and exasperation, looked at him with hate and fear instead.

The dragon swooped down and the horses began to get restless, whinnying and shifting slightly.

“Hold,” Arthur repeated.

Merlin steeled his gaze, resigned to the unfortunate outcomes of this situation. The situation he had placed himself in by releasing the dragon.

“Hold,” Arthur said.

The dragon roared.

“Hold!” he yelled “Now!”

The knights separated, circling the dragon who had just landed in the clearing. He swung his tail, the great, scaly thing knocking Merlin off his horse with one hit. He looked to the side and noticed a few of the knights had been hit by it as well.

Kilgharrah opened his mouth and breathed a great wall of fire at the remaining knights. Merlin stumbled to his feet in a panic, ignoring Arthur who was at his side in favor of moving slightly closer.

“Stop!” Merlin yelled, distressed.

Arthur stared on in horror as the dragon turned its head towards them. Merlin breathed heavily, stepping backwards, resigned to the hate he would soon see in Arthur’s gaze as he revealed himself.

Arthur reached quickly for a lance that had fallen to the floor. By now they were the only two left standing in the clearing with the dragon. Arthur raised the spear and pointed it at the dragon who moved closer, slowly.

Merlin froze remembering his fathers last few words.

“You’re the last dragonlord now. You alone, carry the ancient gift. Deep within yourself, you must find the voice that you and Kilgharrah share. For your soul, and his, are brothers. When you speak to him as kin, he must obey your will.”

Merlin looked towards Arthur, his spear raised at the dragon, prepared to die to defend his people. Merlin knew what he had to do. He opened his mouth and began to roar, feeling the newly obtained power deep within himself.

Merlin pointedly looked away from Arthur’s shocked face, refusing to see the disdain and betrayal he would find there. He began to speak in the old tongue, gradually decreasing in volume as Kilgharrah lowered himself and ceased his attack. For now.