Fandom 37

[lycoris]

Title: The Prince's Dragon
Fandom: Merlin/Temeraire
Rating: PG
Summary: When Arthur is sent to destroy Mercia's delivery of dragon eggs, he thinks it will be a relatively simple task. He didn't expect to end up with a dragon of his own. (I haven't finished this one yet - this is part one.)

Arthur would have given anything not to be there.

Of course, he was honoured that his father trusted him with such a mission. Of course he was. But it felt too cold, to calculated for his tastes and he knew that several of the knights felt the same. Too much like killing innocent people. But it was the king’s order and therefore had to be obeyed.

They’re just eggs he told himself You eat eggs all the time. Just like that.

The wagon containing Mercia’s precious cargo of eggs rattled into view. Arthur gripped his sword tightly and signalled for the knights to prepare themselves. The Mercian guards were alert but no match for Camelot, he was sure. No one was a match for the Camelot knights. It was just a problem that Merica had begun to adopt the abandoned Roman ideas for dragon riding. Uther had meant to destroy the ability once and for all but obviously, something had gone wrong there and now Mercia’s dragon flyers were becoming a serious risk. Uther had no intention of allowing this to happen, hence the fact that Arthur and a collection of knights were waiting to destroy a cargo of dragon eggs.

The Merican soldiers were not to be sniffed at though. They put up a good fight - evidently, they knew just how important the dragon eggs were. Arthur had just killed one of the soldiers and was moving towers the wagon when he saw another man running away. He was carrying a dragon egg in his arms. Without thinking, Arthur ran straight after him, not calling for back up or even making sure that anyone knew where he was going. He just chased and brought down the man with ease. As he fell, the man dropped the egg and Arthur knelt down beside it, taking it into his hands. It was shaking slightly and he suddenly realised in horror that it was hatching. Without thinking, he dropped the egg and jerked backwards from it, watching as cracked spread all over the surface. Then, with a sharp snapping noise, it broke apart and a dragon was lying on the forest floor, shaking a blunt nosed head in vague confusion. Arthur gripped his sword and swallowed, lifting it slightly, preparing to strike.

“Ow,” the dragon said. “That was scary! I was all jolted around! I didn’t like it any more so I came out. Hello! Are you going to be my friend?”

It would maybe have been okay if it hadn’t said that. Arthur had been staring and trying to prepare himself for one quick blow. But the little thing was staring at him so eagerly with what seemed to be a hopeful look in his face that Arthur found himself unable to move.

“I … I don’t know,” he stammered out at last. “I … I’ve never met a dragon before.”

“Really? Does that make me special?”

Arthur didn’t know what to say. The little dragon shook itself a little and ambled closer to Arthur, looking around. He saw blinked at the man that Arthur had killed.

“Why is he lying down?”

“He … he was a bad man,” Arthur said, stooping down and going through the dead man’s pockets quickly. He had a bag flung over his shoulder and there was a pouch of some sort of ground meat and a small leather collar and harness which he supposed had to be for the dragon.

“Here,” he said, offering the pouch and the dragon began to eat greedily. As it did, Arthur slowly clasped the collar around its neck and the harness over its wings. Gaius had always said that feral dragons were dangerous. You had to collar them. You had to … you were supposed to kill them if you were from Camelot. Why wasn’t he killing it?

“That’s lovely,” the dragon said with a sigh, licking its lips. “What’s your name?

“Arthur Pendragon,” Arthur said. “Crown Prince of Camelot.”

“What’s Camelot?” the little dragon asked. “Is that my name?”

“No,” Arthur said. “You … you don’t have a name.”

“Oh.” The dragon drooped.

“Do … do you want one?” Arthur asked uncertainly.

“Please!” the dragon said eagerly.

Arthur had never been imaginative when it came to names. The few toys that he’d had had simply been Dog and Corndoll. He looked helplessly around until he found himself glancing upwards and saw a soaring bird high above them.

“Merlin,” he said. “Your name is Merlin.”

“Okay!” Merlin seemed to like it. “Can I sleep now? I’m really tired all of a sudden.”

“Okay,” Arthur agreed. “Um … why, why don’t you sleep in this bag? That way, I can carry you.”

Merlin obediently scrambled into his bag and curled up, falling to sleep almost straight away. Arthur stared down at him helplessly. What had just happened? How had it just happened? He didn’t want it to have happened! What was he going to tell his father? Uther would be furious. He loathed dragons. Loathed them with every part of his being. And now, Arthur had one of them sleeping in a bag.

He ought to kill it. Ought to snap its neck while it slept. He reached out his hand, touched his fingers to the fragile, scaly neck. Merlin breathed gently and curled around his hand in a strangely affectionate way. Arthur stared down at him uselessly, then cursed as he heard Sir Leon anxiously calling his name. Springing to his feet, he quickly tied the flap of the bag and hastily headed back.

“Where were you? Are you injured?” Sir Leon demanded.

“No,” Arthur said. “Just dealing with someone. Have we done what we came to do?”

He couldn’t look at the cart. He just accepted it when a slightly queasy looking Sir Gawain told him that yes, they’d destroyed the eggs. Arthur just wanted to go home and he had a feeling that the knights agreed.

They were making good progress on the journey back when Arthur suddenly felt his bag shift. Horrified, he grabbed at it, trying to silence Merlin before he could speak. He fumbled the grab and a small distinct voice squeaked “Ouch!” from inside. Sir Gawain was riding beside him and his head snapped round just as Merlin stuck his head out of the back and blinked crossly at Arthur.

“That hurt,” he said.

“Shhhhh!” Arthur hissed. “You mustn’t talk!”

“Why not?” Merlin promptly cheeped, looking curious. At this point, Gawain fell off his horse. It was a pretty impressive fall and clearly distracting, giving Arthur time to shove Merlin back in the back and whisper “It’s a game!” before leaping off his horse to assist Gawain, who was telling the others that he’d dozed off. Arthur gave him a not-very-harsh scolding, then got back on his horse and rode ahead, trying to ignore his squirming shoulder bag.

“It’s boring in here,” Merlin whispered sulkily.

“Tough,” Arthur whispered back. “Please Merlin, stay quiet.”

“But I want to come out! I’m hungry!”

“Shhhh,” Arthur whispered. “Please, Merlin!”

The little dragon grumbled but settled down. Arthur gritted his teeth and wondered again why he’d done such a stupid, stupid thing? He should have just wrung the damn dragon’s neck. Or sliced up the egg straight away. Why had he done this? What the hell would Gawain say? God, he was probably laughing behind his back right now. Or worse, thinking his prince was a traitor or a fool. Arthur the idiot.

“Why don’t we stop for a rest?” Sir Leon suggested and Arthur was only too happy to comply. He moved quickly away from the group, taking the bag with him. Merlin instantly popped out the second he opened it, shaking his head.

“It’s too stuffy in there,” he grumbled. “Why can’t I come out?”

“Because you can’t,” Arthur snapped down at him and then felt guilty when Merlin drooped.

“Look … look, I … the other knights are … are a bit scared of dragons. They might … get cross.”

“They might,” Gawain agreed, walking up behind him. He dropped some meat jerky onto Arthur’s lap and Merlin darted forwards and began to happily gnaw at it. Arthur glared furiously at the other knight but Gawain only shrugged.

“We need to talk, Sire,” he said quietly.

“Gawain, I … ” Arthur began.

“Hey,” Gawain said, clearly addressing Merlin. “Is it okay if Arthur and I have a quick chat over here while you eat?”

“Okay,” Merlin said distractedly and Gawain pretty much yanked Arthur to his feet.

“Are you mad?” he hissed. “What are you doing?!”

“I … look, I can handle this!” Arthur hissed back.

“Handle it? Arthur, it’s a dragon. Do you know what the breed is? Do you know how big it’s going to get? Do you know what the king will do if he lays eyes on it?”

“Yes,” Arthur said. “Yes, of course I know! But Gawain, look at him … it. Look at it! It’s … it’s so tiny, it’s … like a child.”

“That doesn’t matter! Arthur, dragons get attached to the people they bond to. It isn’t going to go away! It thinks you’re its captain and it will follow you to the ends of the earth if you continue to feed it and offer it any attention. We’re two days from Camelot. By the time we get there, it could have doubled in size!”

Arthur didn’t say anything. He stared over at Merlin who was apparently now trying to catch things on the forest floor. Gawain gave a soft sigh.

“I know it’s hard,” he said. “I … I don’t like it either. Look, maybe I could do it for you?”

“No,” Arthur said sharply. “No, I … I can do it.”

Merlin gave a triumphant squeak. He’d managed to catch himself a mouse, probably more from luck than judgement. He stared at Arthur proudly as Arthur walked over.

“Look what I caught! Do you want it?”

“No,” Arthur said. “No, you have it.”

Merlin began to eat happily and Arthur slowly stroked his fingers down the fragile spine and up to the neck. One jerk would probably do it. One little snap …

Merlin turned his big eyes up to Arthur’s face and blinked innocently. Arthur swallowed and let his hand drop.

”Why are you looking so sad?” Merlin asked, his little voice strangely worried. “Can I help?”

“No,” Arthur murmured. “No, it’s … it’s all right.”

He turned and looked at Gawain, who gave his head a gentle shake. His eyes were strangely understanding.

“All right, Arthur,” was all he said. “All right.”

Arthur didn’t say anything. He felt like a weak, pathetic fool and knew that his father would be bitterly disappointed. But the dragon was so small. So eager to please him. He just didn’t know what to do and he hated that feeling more than anything.

“Do you need me to be quiet again?” Merlin asked, sounding worried.

“I do,” Arthur said, gently stroking him. “Ever so quiet. I know that it isn’t any fun.”

“But you don’t want the knights to be cross,” Merlin said with cheerful understanding. “I can do that! But I would like to fly soon. It would be lovely to fly.”

“Maybe tonight,” Arthur promised rashly. “If you’re very, very good.”

Merlin smiled cheerfully at the idea and crawled back into the bag willingly. Arthur noticed glumly that he was already quite a bit bigger. Soon, he wouldn’t fit in at all. What the hell was Arthur going to do then? This was so, so stupid.

Gawain didn’t say anything. He gave Arthur a strangely sad look but didn’t say anything. They walked back to the group together and Gawain sat next to Arthur’s bag, shielding it from view in a vaguely protective sort of way. Arthur knew that he was going to have to thank Gawain profusely at some point. Gawain didn’t have to do this. In fact, he probably shouldn’t be doing it at all. It would make him culpable when Merlin was eventually discovered. Arthur would have to make sure that he was protected. Gawain was a good knight, a good man. He didn’t deserve trouble for showing simple loyalty to his prince.

They travelled on a good way before their next stop. Arthur ordered for his tent to be put up, even though he hadn’t used it the night before. He helped the knights set up camp and worked out with Sir Leon where the guards ought to go. He then volunteered to take guard duty later on at the darkest hours. Hopefully, Merlin would be able to see well enough in the dark for at least a small flight.

Perhaps if Arthur was lucky, Merlin would get himself lost and solve the problem for him.

Once he was in the tent, he let Merlin out of the bag, whispering “Be very, very quiet and stay inside, okay?” Merlin nodded his head and ambled around the tent, nosing into Arthur’s things amiably. He seemed curious about everything but in particular, he liked Arthur’s shiny armour and weapons. Arthur found himself watching and grinning. It was kind of cute.

“Are they special shiny things?” Merlin whispered. “Do they show that you’re important?”

“No,” Arthur said. “Well, some of them do, I suppose. But mostly, it’s armour for knights. To protect us.”

“From what?” Merlin asked. He bounced over to Arthur and scrambled onto his lap, nuzzling at his chest a little. For a moment, Arthur was confused, then he realised that Merlin was investigating the necklace Arthur was wearing.

“From anything that attacks me,” he said, holding out the necklace for Merlin to pluck at.

“Do things attack you often?” Merlin asked worriedly. “I won’t let them. I can fight them.”

“You’re too little to fight the things that attack me,” Arthur said with a small laugh.

“I’ll grow,” Merlin said determinedly, tugging gently on the necklace. “This is pretty.”

“It is,” Arthur agreed, lazily stroking him and enjoying the feeling of the warm scales. “I’m a prince so I get a lot of pretty things like that. You wait until you see my crown.”

“What’s a crown?” Merlin asked, laying his head warmly on Arthur’s shoulder.

“Oh, it’s something you wear on your head,” Arthur explained. “Made of gold or silver. It shows you’re important.”

“Will I get to wear a crown?”

“No,” Arthur said. “You’re not a prince. Or a king. You’re a dragon. Dragons don’t wear crowns.”

He was beginning to feel rather sleepy. Merlin was warm and something about the rhythm of his breathing was rather lulling. Arthur felt his eyes sliding closed and nestled down against the bedroll without really thinking about it.

“If I’m your dragon, does that mean I get my own shiny things?” Merlin murmured into his ear.

“Maybe,” Arthur yawned. “If you’re good.”

Merlin gave a hum of contentment and snuggled into him. Arthur laid his hand on the warm, scaly back and fell asleep.

He woke up very abruptly when someone came into the tent. Horrified, Arthur tried to shove Merlin under the bedroll. Merlin squeaked indignantly and struggled and the whole effect didn’t really come off. Gawain stood and stared at him, his expression distinctly unimpressed.

“It’s your turn to watch,” he said softly. “You’re an idiot, Arthur.”

Which really, he wasn’t allowed to say. But Arthur supposed he could hardly argue. He was an idiot.

“Do you want me to bite him?” Merlin whispered in his ear and Arthur found himself grinning again. He shook his head and carefully covered Merlin in a blanket before picking him up. Merlin seemed to have grown again. Damn.

“Still and quiet,” he whispered and Merlin nodded and curled up. Arthur waked out of his tent, avoiding the sleeping knights and relieved Sir Bors. Once he was sure the man was settled, he unwrapped Merlin’s blanket.

“You have to stay quiet,” he whispered. “And don’t fly towards the knights. Take care.”

Merlin nodded. He flexed his wings, then leaped into the air. Arthur watched him spiral upwards and then concentrated on watching and trying not to think about anything. Such as how to smuggle a dragon back into Camelot or how big he might get or what the hell you might need to feed it or the fact that his own father might well have him executed for this. He half-hoped Merlin would get lost in the darkness but the other part of him, the slightly louder part, didn’t want that. Merlin was so little So fragile and small and cheerful. Apparently, he had stupid protective instincts that Morgana had always insulted him for not having. Damn.

A little while later, Merlin swept down abruptly in front of him and draped himself sleepily over Arthur’s shoulders.

“That was lovely,” he mumbled. “Funfunfun!”

“Sure,” Arthur said softly. “I’m glad.”

“Can I do that again sometime?”

“Sure,” Arthur said again. “Sure, Merlin.”

*

He smuggled Merlin back to his tent after his watch was done and gave him plenty to drink and a little of his breakfast meat to eat. Merlin had definietely grown and the bag strained around him as he did his best to curl up in it.

“I’ll try my very best not to wriggle,” he promised. “I really will.”

“I know you will,” Arthur said. “I’m sorry. We’ll back at Camelot soon. You’ll be all right.”

“Is it nice in Camelot?” Merlin asked.

”It’s wonderful,” Arthur promised. “You’ll love it. You really will.”

It occurred to him that he was lying through his teeth and he felt ashamed but now wasn’t the moment to try and explain the complications to Merlin. Instead, he carefully carried the bag out, attached it to his horse and then tucked the bedroll over it, hoping that it would disguise any odd shapes contained. No one paid any attention to him, much to his relief. Even Gawain seemed to be very carefully not looking. Probably, he was horrified by Arthur’s insanity. Not unreasonable really.

They rode steadily that day, unmolested by anything or anyone. When they stopped to rest the horses, Arthur managed to sneak some food into his bag for Merlin. Merlin was angelic but he whispered rather miserably “My wings are cramped.” when Arthur asked how he was doing.

“Soon home,” Arthur murmured back. “Soon home.”

And what then? a nasty voice enquired in his mind. What will you do with him once you’re in Camelot, exactly?

He ignored it. He’d think of that once they were safely home. He’d sort everything out once they were in Camelot.

They rode fast and well, uninterupted and reached the castle just before nightfall. The servants instantly came to take Arthur’s horse and Arthur allowed it but not before oh-so-casually unhooking his bag and carrying it calmly away, informing one of the servants that he would speak to his father the moment he had cleaned up. No one questioned this. Arthur walked straight to his room, checked that it was definietely empty with no lurking servants and then released Merlin who crawled miserably out, his wings drooping.

“It’s all right,” Arthur said, feeling a stab of shame. “You won’t have to go back in there again. You can stay in here and you’ll be safe as long as no one but me sees you.”

“I have to stay in here?” Merlin said, looking around with puzzled eyes. “But … it’s indoors.”

“I know,” Arthur said. “But you’ll be safe.”

“Is … is everyone in Camelot scared of dragons?” Merlin asked, his voice small.

Arthur bit his lip.

“Yes,” he said at last. “I’m sorry. It’s … they just don’t want … dragons here.”

“Then … then why did you bring me here?”

Arthur paused. He didn’t know how to answer the question and he knew that his father was expecting him. Merlin was staring at him trustingly, waiting for an answer.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Arthur said. “I wanted to keep you safe.”

Merlin seemed satisfied with this. He stretched his back and wings and looked around the room again. Arthur checked under the bed and rearranged a few boxes.

“Merlin. I want you to stay under here, okay? Servants will be coming in soon with my things. You have to hide. But there’s plenty of space here, see? To stretch. You mustn’t be seen. Promise me you won’t let anyone see you?”

“Of course,” Merlin said at once. “No one will see me. I’m good at that! And I won’t let you down, Arthur!”

Arthur smiled. Then he had to move quickly, pulling on a quick change of clothes and splashing his face and hands in cold water before he went to report to the king. Merlin slipped under the bed before he went out and Arthur hopeed that he really would stay there. If any of the servants saw, the fuss would be horrendous. He would have to think about how he was going to protect Merlin.

You shouldn’t be protecting him. You should be killing him. What are you going to say to your father?

Arthur ignored the stupid voice and went to the throne room where he reported on a completely successful mission. His father smiled with pride and told him how well he’d done. Arthur’s stomach squirmed. He made very sure not to look at Gawain. His mind was beginning to churn with awwkard thoughts. How was he going to feed Merlin? Exercise him? Could Merlin fly over Camelot without being seen? What happened if Merlin got too big for his room? What was Arthur going to do about that harness? Merlin was already too big for it and it was clearly hurting him. Oh God. He was stupid. What was he going to do?

Leaving the room, he found himself face to face with Morgana. She glared at him and lifted her nose in the air.

“Back from your slaughter, are you?” she asked coldly. “So nice to see that Camelot’s knights are capable of defeating eggs.”

Arthur opened his mouth to tell her to go away and stop talking about things she didn’t understand. Then he paused.

“Morgana,” he said. “I need to speak to you, privately.”

“Privately?” Morgana repeated, raising her eyebrow. “And what about exactly?”

“Just privately,” Arthur said. “Please, could you come to my chambers?”

She stared at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed. Arthur stood back, not sure if he ought to plead with her or not. He’d said please. He didn’t want to have to say anything more than that. He kept his expression neutral and waited as Morgana continued to stare. Then she gave her shoulders an annoyed shrug.

“Very well,” she said and Arthur hid a sigh of relief and turned, walking quickly to his room, Morgana marching at his side. A servant had clearly been in there while he was gone - fresh fruit was on the table along with a jug of water and a goblet. Arthur closed the door securely, then turned and looked at Morgana.

“I need your help,” he said, hating saying it.

“My help?” Morgana said, sounding doubtful and more than a little mocking. “What does the great Arthur Pendragon need from me?”

Arthur moved over to the bed and crouched down. Merlin was curled there, blinking anxiously at him. Arthur smiled reassuringly and reached out to him. Merlin paused, then scrambled into his arms. Arthur stood and turned, looking at Morgana.

“This is Morgana,” he said. “Morgana, this is Merlin. I … I found him.”

Morgana stared at him, her mouth slightly open, shock clear in her eyes. Merlin lifted his head and blinked.

“Hello,” he said cheerfully. “It’s nice to meet you! You’re covered with ever such lovely shiny things, even more than Arthur! Does that mean you’re a prince too?”

“No, she isn’t!” Arthur said, irritated. “Only men are princes. Morgana is a lady.”

“Oh. Are ladies more important than princes?”

“No! Ladies just like to deck themselves out more in jewellery, that’s all!”

“Oh. I wish I was a lady. I like the sparkling!”

Morgana was still staring. She had blinked several times, as though she expected Merlin to disappear from Arthur’s arms. Then her mouth closed and she smiled and stepped forward, as though this happened to her every day.

“Merlin. How nice to meet you. You look hungry … and that collar looks painful. I can get you a better harness fitted, would you like that?”

“It is a bit achy,” Merlin said, doubtfully. “Is it okay, Arthur?”

“Of course,” Arthur said, his stomach squirming a little. “I bought her here to ask for help taking care of you.”

He expected Morgana to make a sneering remark but she didn’t, She ran her fingers gently over Merlin’s body, checking his wings and scales. She nodded slowly, then looked at Arthur.

“You should talk to Gaius,” she said. “He knows about dragons. He can help you.”

“I … are you sure?” Arthur asked uncertainly.

“Yes,” Morgana said, lifting Merlin out of his arms and sitting down on the bed with him, scratching gently under his chin. Melrin arched his neck a little and made a happy sort of noise. Arthur felt his stomach squirm again. He turned and stalked out, trying hard not to slam the door. What the hell was he supposed to say to Gaius? Gaius had his father’s ear, how could he possibly be expected to keep such a secret? Morgana was clearly an idiot. He shouldn’t have told her. She should have kept it a secret. Or better still, he shouldn’t have got involved at all. Stupid. So very stupid.

In the end, the choice was taken away from him. He walked into Gaius’s rooms to find Gawain already there with Gaius, the two clearly in deep conversation. They both looked at him with expressions of guilt and Arthur scowled.

“Been telling tales have we?” he asked flatly.

“Ar - Sire, no, I just - ”

“Forget it,” Arthur said, closing the door with a jerk. “As you apparently already know, Gaius, I need your help.”

He expected a lecture but Gaius didn’t provide one. Instead, he produced an old-looking book which he laid down before Arthur.

“Look through this until you see the dragon you have,” he said. “We will then know how big it will grow and any special abilities that it might have.”

Arthur began to flip through the boo. He spotted Merlin almost at once and laid his fingers on the page.

“Ah,” Gaius said. “You’re lucky - it’s a small breed, only grows about the size of a cart horse.”

“A cart horse? You call that small?” Arthur choked.

“Well, compared to other breeds, it is small,” Gaius said calmly.

Arthur didn’t say anything. He suspected that tehre was no way he could keep a dragon the size of a cart horse in his bedroom. He wouldn’t be able to clean up after him or feed him or exercise him. What was he going to do? Why had he been so stupid?

“I would like to see the dragon,” Gaius said gently. “If you intend to keep him sire, he could shetler here. There is an unused room here where he could shelter and hide and I could exercise him for you.”

Arthur stared at him for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. What else was he supposed to do? Maybe it would be better if Gaius just took control of Merlin entirely. He and Morgana seemed to have a better idea of how to do this than he did.

“If you’re caught, the king will be furious,” he said.

“He will indeed,” Gaius said quietly. “Are you sure that you want to keep the dragon, Sire?”

“What else can I do?” Arthur snapped. “I can’t kill him! I’ve tried! I’ve tried and I’ve tried, I just can’t do it! He’s … he’s tiny and he needs someone to take care of him and … ”

He trailed off helplessly. Gaius nodded his head quietly.

“A bond between man and dragon is difficult for anyone who hasn’t experienced it to understand,” he said. “It - he - will be safe down here, Sire. I am willing to risk the king’s ire.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said, feeling stupid and helpless and idiotic. “I … Gaius, you don’t have to do this, I will make it up to you, I promise.”

“Let’s just sort out moving the dragon first,” Gaius said calmly. “It had better wait until the evening, I think. We can smuggle him down under blankets.”

“All right,” Arthur agreed. “Look, I … Gaius, I never meant for this to happen. I never meant … ”

Gaius laid a hand gently on his shoulder and shook his head, cutting off Arthur’s stumbled words. Arthur was quite glad to stop. He hated explianing himself to anyone.

Morgana had left his room when he returned to it. Merlin lay under the bed again, curled up. He had been carefully cleaned and looked much more cheerful.

“She’s nice,” he said. “I didn’t know there was anyone as nice as that in Camelot! She said she’ll get me a new collar and harness and some pretty shiny things like she has!”

“Oh,” Arthur said. “That’s … good. Listen, Merlin, I’ve found somewhere better for you to stay.”

“Is it outdoors?” Merlin asked hopefully.

“No, no, it isn’t,” Arthur said. “It’s … it’s inside still but in a much bigger room and you won’t have to hide quite so much. You can walk around and stretch and it will be much nicer for you.”

“Okay,” Merlin said agreebaly. “Will I ever get to go outdoors?”

“I … I don’t know,” Arthur said, swallowing. “Maybe.”

“I’d like to,” Merlin said wistfully. “I liked flying very much.”

“I know you did,” Arthur said. “I’ll do my best. I promise.”

“Of course you will,” Merlin said happily. He stretched out his wings. “I trust you.”

Arthur felt his stomach squirm with guilt. He slowly ran his fingers down Merlin’s spine, the way Merlin liked and watched him wriggle with pleasure. He’d only had this stupid dragon for two days. How could the idea of hiding him down in Gaius’s empty cold room make him feel so sad?