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To say Arthur didn’t react well would be an understatement. Many years later, Merlin would still tell the story of how the great and mighty King of Camelot had jumped on his bed barely dressed and holding out a chair as a shield against a tiny baby dragon.
(Arthur would say that he reacted quite logically, thank you very much, but his deep red cheeks always gave him away.)
When Arthur had found out about Merlin’s magic, he had been angry, yes, betrayed, true, but once he had gotten over his sulking session, he had understood that magic wasn’t necessarily evil and that he had only been upset because Merlin hadn’t trusted him with the truth sooner.
(Lancelot didn’t understand why he had to train much harder than the other knights that week.)
It had only been a fortnight or thereabouts after Merlin told Arthur of his magic when Merlin came into Arthur’s chambers with his hands behind his back and, if Arthur was any judge (and he was a pretty good judge, he reminded himself), looking rather shifty.
Arthur leaned against the bedpost and crossed his arms. “What is it, Merlin?” he asked, trying to look stern, and commanding, and not at all apprehensive.
Merlin chewed his lips for a couple more moments before he brought his arms to the front, a red bundle in them.
Arthur scrunched his eyebrows and looked down at the bundle. “Is that — Merlin, is that my cloak? Why is it all muddied? What on earth did you — ” he stopped as what sounded suspiciously like a chirp came from the bundle.
He frowned and looked back up at Merlin.
Merlin smiled tentatively and pulled back a part of the cloak and a tiny white head popped out.
Arthur moved swiftly, grabbing what he could to defend himself and moving to a tactically secure location (and he would maintain that version of events whenever Merlin claimed that he had screamed and climbed on the bed like a child.)
As Arthur brandished the chair at the creature (as good a shield as any; a warrior knows how to improvise), Merlin just looked unimpressed.
“It’s a DRAGON!” Arthur exclaimed, feeling the need to clarify.
(No, he had not sounded high pitched, stop spreading such blatant untruths, Merlin!)
“Very perceptive, Arthur” Merlin said, sounding disapproving as he brought one hand up to cover the dragon’s head (or ears, Arthur supposed, but the thing was so tiny that even Merlin’s slender hands seemed too large against it) as though he wanted to protect it from Arthur’s words.
Now seriously ruffled, Arthur placed the chair back on the floor and his hands on his hips. He glared at Merlin, silently demanding an explanation.
Merlin seemed to quail (about damn time) and held out the dragon towards Arthur. “Her name is Aithusa,” he said, sounding fond.
Arthur looked between Merlin and the dragon and back at Merlin again. He should have known.
“Merlin, dragons are not kittens! You can’t go around picking up stray dragon babies and adopting them.”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “I didn’t adopt her; I hatched her.”
Arthur’s eyes widened.
Merlin seemed to realize what he had just said and his face coloured up. He quickly placed the dragon - Aithusa, Arthur reminded himself with a mental shake of his head - on the table and stepped forward, his arms reaching towards Arthur in a placating gesture. (He did not need placating. He needed explanations. Now.)
“Arthur,” Merlin started and Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “Do you remember when I said that I am the last dragonlord?”
“Yes,” Arthur said slowly. He usually tried not to think of that part.
“And do you remember when a part of a triskelion was stolen from the vaults and we all went in search of a dragon egg?” Merlin continued and Arthur’s eyes widened again.
“You —” Arthur spluttered, jumping down from the bed, an accusatory finger pointed at Merlin. “You stole the —”
“No, no!” Merlin interrupted him. “Well, yes, sort of. I mean, it was a thief named Borden. I helped him at first — “
“What?” Arthur bellowed.
A distressed sound came from the table and Merlin quickly hurried over to calm the dragon.
Arthur watched Merlin fuss over it for a moment (no, it was not adorable) and cleared his throat. He was the king, dammit. He would not be ignored for a baby dragon, however cute it might be.
Merlin threw another disapproving look at Arthur but straightened.
“You were saying that you committed treason by helping a thief steal from my vaults?” Arthur prompted.
“I didn’t — that’s not —” Merlin made a frustrated sound. “Look, it’s a long story and I had my reasons.” Arthur snorted derisively at that, but Merlin continued as though there had been no interruption.
“I have responsibilities as the dragonlord and when I found out that there could be a dragon egg, I knew it was — is my job to protect it. I really thought Borden had good intentions, that’s why I helped him, but it turned out he was only interested in profit. You have to understand, Arthur, I couldn’t have let it fall into the wrong hands, nor could I let you destroy it!”
“You said it was destroyed. We saw the entire tomb of Ashkanar come down,” Arthur said.
“There were traps that set off the collapse. I saved the egg before that, but Borden was caught in it,” Merlin replied.
Arthur was unsettled by how much he still didn’t know about Merlin, but there was one question that was of immediate importance. “What did you mean by ‘you hatched the egg’?” he asked.
Merlin smiled. “A dragon is born when a dragonlord gives it a name and calls it from the egg,” he explained.
“So you just —” Arthur shook his head, trying to get his thoughts to make sense. “You just called a dragon to life? In a kingdom where magic is banned? Where magical creatures would have been killed on sight? When I could have killed it on sight?”
Merlin sighed sadly. “I know, but it wasn’t really a choice,” he said, looking beseechingly at Arthur. “Besides, I had — have faith in you and the kingdom you’ll build. Aithusa is a part of our destiny; a herald of the new age. Her name means ‘light of the sun’! She is hope for all things magical. She is hope for us, Arthur!”
That didn’t make any sense, but Arthur nodded like he understood. “So… Aithusa?” he asked.
“Aithusa.” Merlin replied, smile growing. They both turned to look at the dragon in question, only to find that Aithusa had gotten hold of Arthur’s crown and was playing around with it as though it was any old rag toy.
Arthur silently turned and raised an eyebrow at Merlin.
Merlin looked at him and smiled sheepishly, “Dragons love gold?” he offered, scratching at the back of his neck.
Arthur threw up his hands and fell back onto his bed.
(He would wonder later what it meant that the thought of telling Merlin to take the dragon back to the forest had never even occurred to him.)
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Everyone loved Aithusa of course. Gwen doted on the little thing like it was her own child. The knights played with Aithusa like they themselves were children. Gwaine even shared his apples with her! And Merlin — well Merlin practically went moon-eyed every time Aithusa did anything.
Arthur considered himself above all that. Aithusa, however, didn’t seem to have gotten that bit of information. Whenever he was in her vicinity, she would abandon whomever had been pampering her at that moment and waddle up to Arthur.
Arthur thought it annoying. Merlin thought it adorable.
Adorable!
The King of Camelot did not do adorable!
Especially when that damned dragon started eating his stuff - blankets, shoes, socks - anything that was Arthur’s and within her reach.
Arthur was getting ready for training when he found that he did not have a single sock without a hole in it. He growled in frustration and threw the last sock he had been checking on the floor. Aithusa immediately trotted towards it and started chewing on it with relish.
Arthur turned and glared at Merlin when he heard giggling.
When Merlin saw that Arthur was shooting daggers at him with his eyes, he tried to school his face, but the amusement was clearly evident when he said “Oh, give her a break, Arthur. She’s just teething.”
“But why is it that she chews on only my things? Why not yours? Or Gwaine’s? You can’t tell me that my socks taste better than the food all of you insist on feeding her,” Arthur replied petulantly.
At that Merlin stopped trying to hide his amusement and burst out laughing. As in, actually rolling on the floor laughing.
Arthur waited (very patiently, he might add; it was not an easy task) for Merlin to stop laughing and sent him a questioning glare.
Merlin smiled fondly. “She likes you, Arthur,” he said.
“She eats my things because she likes me?” Arthur asked confusedly. “Well, tell her to stop. Use your dragonlord powers.”
Merlin’s face sobered immediately. “I would never exploit my powers like that. Besides — “ he turned at a squeaking and flopping sound and started laughing again making Arthur turn around as well.
Aithusa had tried to start chewing on the dangling edge of his blanket and had caused all of the bedding to come down on her. Arthur felt his own lips start to twitch. Of course that was when Merlin had to turn around to look back at Arthur and his grin widened. “Besides,” he continued “it’s awfully adorable and you know you think so too.” he said triumphantly.
Arthur just made a frustrated sound and walked out of the room, forgetting that he was still barefoot.
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Reading boring reports wasn’t really something Arthur enjoyed, but it was something that had to be done. He sat poring over them at his desk, making notes and struggling not to fall asleep on them. Merlin puttered about somewhere behind him, while Aithusa sat at Arthur’s desk, playing with his sword sheath. (The sword itself, he kept on top of his wardrobe where she couldn’t reach it.)
Merlin may have been her dragonlord, but Aithusa always preferred to be with Arthur. She liked tagging along on his rounds, waddling and trying to keep up with his long strides (and, more often than not, tripping on his cloak), sitting by his throne, trying to look serious as he listened to audiences, even playfully joining in during training sessions. It was a common sight within the castle, to see the King and dragon together all the time. Even Arthur had to admit that he had somehow grown fond of her.
(Merlin could snicker all he wanted, but as a king it was Arthur’s right to be worried about his charges and so if Aithusa wasn’t within 10 feet of him, he most definitely was going in search of her.)
The times in his chambers were special in their simplicity. (He refused to think of it as domestic.) It was oddly peaceful, even with both dragonlord and dragon being their very clumsy selves and knocking down everything or falling over nothing.
(It wasn’t the report that was making him smile that time.)
A strange flapping sound made him look up and he saw Aithusa furiously beating her wings, trying desperately to fly. The look of utter concentration and determination on her face made him smile as he softly called Merlin over.
Merlin was at his side in an instant, arms reaching protectively towards Aithusa. Aithusa, however, hopped away from him and valiantly started trying to fly again.
After a few minutes of jumping and flapping (Aithusa), nervous lip biting (Merlin), and amused expectation (Arthur), Aithusa managed to fly a few inches above the desk. Merlin immediately broke into applause, which startled Aithusa so much that she fell belly-first back onto the desk.
Arthur roared with laughter as he watched Merlin pick Aithusa up and tell her all sort of platitudes, but he couldn’t deny that he felt just a little bit proud.
(He would have to find a new hiding place for his sword, though.)
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Arthur stomped through the hallways. It had been a thoroughly frustrating day with the council. Legalizing magic was a long and arduous process and some of the council members still thought that Arthur had lost his mind. Although Aithusa had endeared herself to many people, some were still afraid of her and her constant presence only aggravated the council more. (Merlin was not present during these sessions for the same reason.)
This council meeting had been to discuss the presence, control, and freedom of magical creatures. The druid liaison who had been made part of the council insisted that any and all magical creatures should be left as they were. The council had immediately jumped on the topic of the great Dragon that had nearly incinerated Camelot to the ground.
Arthur knew that Aithusa wouldn’t do that and Merlin would certainly make sure that anything like that never happened again. Still, he remembered the questing beast that had nearly killed him. He wanted to make sure that there were proper regulations in place, the same as with any magical users.
Suffice to say, it had been a really bad day.
It got exponentially worse when he entered his room only to have a whole load of water dumped on him. Pushing the wet hair out of his eyes, he looked up to see Aithusa flying around his head with an empty bucket in her claws. She was making shrieking sounds that may have been laughter, but it caused her to loosen her hold on the bucket. Arthur moved just in time to avoid getting hit in the head by it. Merlin who had already been laughing uproariously, practically doubled over at that.
“Out,” Arthur said, slowly and with what little calm he could muster up. Merlin stopped laughing and looked at Arthur, but the amusement was still clear in his eyes.
Aithusa, who had also stopped laughing (or shrieking or whatever it had been) moved as if to sit on Arthur’s shoulder, but Arthur, without thinking, flinched away from her. He saw Aithusa’s eyes widen and her flight stutter before she flew to sit on the desk.
“Arthur — “ Merlin started, his eyes showing disapproval and worry, but Arthur interrupted him with a much louder and angrier “Get out of my sight right now.”
He could see the expression in Merlin’s eyes morph into hurt, but before he could say anything else, Merlin had scooped up Aithusa and was out of the room.
Arthur let out a low growl before he slumped down on the edge of the bed.
He knew he had been cruel, but he had been so stressed; it really wasn’t his fault, was it? Sighing, he decided he’d apologize to both Merlin and Aithusa when Merlin brought him his dinner.
As time ticked by, his frustration and annoyance grew in tandem with his guilt. Surely, it was long past dinner time? Merlin was always late, but he knew that Aithusa would have found a way to get back to him, but the two still hadn’t come back.
After a while, when probably everyone else had gone to sleep, Arthur (very worried, but not showing it) decided to go looking for them.
It didn’t take him long. He knew all of Merlin’s favourite spots.
He found them on the hilltop behind the training grounds.
It was a great spot, he had to admit. He stood quite a distance from them and took in the scene. The stars were bright and numerous, and under them, gazing up at them, lay Merlin with Aithusa curled up in the crook of his arm. It seemed almost a magical sight even if no sorcery was being done. Arthur wondered why he had never thought of magic in that elemental way before.
As he stood there, pondering things beyond the grasp of imagination, Aithusa turned her head, sniffing at the air. When she caught sight of him, the delighted expression on her face made Arthur smile as well.
“Aaffa!”
Arthur, who had started walking towards Merlin and Aithusa, stopped mid step. He saw Merlin’s head snap around.
“Aaftha!” Aithusa repeated, sounding impatient and petulant.
Merlin’s eyes met his and Arthur could see wonder and amazement in them. Any other time, he probably would have made fun of Merlin, but at that moment he was sure his face reflected the same emotions.
Aithusa, tired of waiting for him to join them, took a flying leap towards him. Laughing, Arthur caught her in his arms and close to his chest, where she snuggled in comfortably.
Pretending not to notice Merlin’s overly fond smile, he walked over and plopped down next to him, a dragon in his arms, a warlock by his side, and all of Albion before him.
(Legends may speak of many incredible moments, but these were what really mattered.)