The first thing I have written in months, and it is this.
Title: Shur'tugalar Rïsa.
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin, a bit of Arthur/Gwen, and a bit of Gwen/Lancelot. Later on, anyway.
Warnings: Violence, dragons, elves, magic. Y'know, fantasy stuff.
Spoiler(s): Nope. None at all.
Word count: 3911 for this chapter.
Rating: PG. At the moment, anyway. Different chapters may change.
Summary: AU, based on the Inheritence Cycle books by Christopher Paolini - you don't need to have read them to follow this story, however. Merlin is an elf with blue eyes - rare - who is Rider to a white dragon - also rare. He is broken, and the last hope for training the new Rider when the final free egg hatches. It does hatch, to Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther, King of the nation Surda. The egg hatches for Arthur while visiting the Varden - he picked it up when someone dropped it, and it hatched. Uther hates Riders and doesn't want his son to be one, but Arthur is adament. So he goes back to Du Weldenvarden to be training by Merlin and his dragon, Aravae. They dislike each other from the start.
Author's Notes: I utterly adore Christopher Paolini's books, and I've always wanted to write something based on them. I was thinking and thinking and I came up with this. I've loved writing it, and I hope that you enjoy reading it. The title means Dragon Riders Rise in the Ancient Language, the ones used in the books. I couldn't come up with anything I liked in English, so I used that instead.
Author's Note II: Chapter ten! I am so, so sorry that it took me so long. It has been half finished for a long time, and my plot bunnies have been extremely uncooperative recently, but I finally finished it. I've not been here much recently, but here we go, I'm back. This chapter was written for the lovely mychaostheorem as a birthday present. I would also like to thank Muffin - aka woodsgal - for being awesome and always encouraging me. With thanks also to book_worm_vicky , for also encouraging me and never giving up on this fic. And finally, thanks to mybrainsrmush and the other person ( I'm sorry, I couldn't find the comment and don't remember your name - let me know? ) who commented asking when this would be done. You helped kick me into gear. In this chapter, the Riders travel back to Du Weldenvarden and there is awkwardness and angst. As usual.
‘Arthur? Arthur, are you okay?’
Vesparr was in danger of actually cracking the thick ice, but he refused to move. His Rider was curled into a ball behind the waterfall, hugging his legs against his chest. His tears had long since dried, but he was staring at the frozen water in front of him with an expression of such loss that it made Vesparr hurt all over. He shifted his weight slightly, pressing his worry over their link.
“I’m fine,” Arthur croaked. It was barely more than a whisper, and Vesparr whined - a noise he hadn’t made since he was small.
‘I’m worried,’ he said.
“Don’t be.”
‘Come out? Please?’
Arthur finally turned his gaze to his dragon. His eyes were empty - there was nothing there. Finally, Arthur took the barriers down and Vesparr felt everything flood over. It was painful - intensely so. Loss and loneliness and hurt and desperation, all muddled together in a confusing mess that made Vesparr’s head hurt.
‘Please?’
Finally, Arthur managed to drag himself out from behind the waterfall. He fell into the snow at the edge of the lake, looking so woeful that Vesparr felt his own expression morph into a matching one. He clambered awkwardly off the ice, glad to finally be off the groaning water.
“Vesparr…I love him.”
Arthur’s voice was hoarse from crying, barely above a whisper. If it were not for the fact that Vesparr knew what he was saying from his thoughts, he wouldn’t be able to hear what his Rider was saying.
‘I know.’
“And yet…he kissed back but…doesn’t feel the same.”
‘I’m sure he does, Arthur.’
“How could he and just…just run away like that?”
Vesparr sighed, more of an expulsion of air through his nostrils than anything else. He cleared the snow from around Arthur with a sweep of his powerful tail, and curled himself around his Rider, providing the warmth he needed.
‘Try to see it from his perspective.’
Arthur leant against Vesparr, grateful for the warmth. For all his immaturity, Vesparr could be wise and caring when Arthur needed it most, just like Aravae was with Merlin. Their relationship was still different from theirs - they had not been together long enough or been through enough together to form the kind of bond the Elven Rider had with his dragon - but it was changing in small, slow steps.
“How can I? I don’t know what he was thinking,” Arthur rasped. Vesparr sighed and curled his neck around his Rider, peering up at him with large, liquid golden eyes.
‘He’s lost almost everyone he cares about, Arthur. He lost the other Riders. I think he’s scared that he’ll lose you, too.’
Arthur stared at Vesparr, at the honesty in his eyes and his voice and his mind. He thought about it slowly, mulling over the words for much longer than he really needed too, staring off into some middle distance, fingers absentmindedly tracing the patterns that Vesparr’s scales made where the overlapped.
“You really think that?” he asked, voice wavering dangerously.
‘Yes. It’s what I gathered from Aravae.’
“You talked to Aravae about it?”
‘Of course I did. Do you think that we just hunt and discuss flying?’
Vesparr sounded affronted, and Arthur’s lips quirked upwards at the corners. It was barely perceptible, but Vesparr noticed and felt proud that he had managed to get his Rider to smile - albeit barely - when he was feeling at his lowest.
“No. I just didn’t know you talked about us.”
‘You are a big topic, actually. We’ve known for a long time, Arthur.’
“And yet you never said anything.”
‘Aravae said it was something Merlin needed to work out on his own. She said I wasn’t to tell you any of this until the moment was right. I think that this moment is right.’
Arthur looked at Vesparr. Childish, silly Vesparr, who was so worried about him, who was being so serious and helpful now, just when Arthur needed it most.
‘I am always what you need most, Arthur.’
“Do you think you’ll ever grow up?”
‘Honestly? I really, really hope not.’
Arthur managed something that was actually recognisable as a smile then. It was still small, but it was definitely a smile. He stood slowly and stretched his body out. Vesparr got to his feet behind him, shaking himself out.
‘Are we going to head back now?’
“Yes. Come on, Vesparr. I am sorry I made you worry about me.”
‘Don’t be. It is my job to worry about you.’
----
The Riders avoided each other as much as possible for the remainder of their time in Surda. They came together when they had to, practiced fighting and attended things, but it was not the same. They were stilted and awkward - dancing around each other and the very obvious dragon in the room. The kiss. The waterfall. But they would not speak of it, so they kept quiet and were polite and formal to each other.
They both hated it.
Arthur hated it because this was Merlin, the man he loved, and it was insane that they should be like this with each other. The previous ease of their relationship, they way they spoke and acted when together, was gone, replaced instead by an awkwardness Arthur would have never thought two people could achieve. But they had managed it, and Arthur knew it was his fault. Not entirely, maybe, because Merlin had kissed back and ran away - the thought of that still made Arthur’s chest clench and he only thought of it when alone because it also never failed to make the tears fall - but it was he that had started it.
Merlin hated it because Arthur was the one person in however many ridiculously long years it had been that actually understood him. Understood him and what he was going through and how hard it was. They connected on a level Merlin had never connected with anyone - not even the other Riders. Only his bond with Aravae was more precious to him than Arthur.
‘People do stupid things when they are in love.’
This was what Aravae said to Merlin as he was curling up to sleep. He hadn’t slept in his rooms in Surda the entire time he had been there. It was strange being that far from Aravae - in Du Weldenvarden and at the Varden she was always in the same room as him, always close. When they were travelling, she protected Merlin from the elements with a wing. He was so used to having her close that every night he had left his rooms and gone to curl against he warm, smooth side, then gone back to his rooms before anyone had woken the next day.
“You think I’m stupid?” he murmured, tugging a blanket over him - it was chilly at night, and even Aravae could not quite provide all the warmth Merlin needed, especially when he rolled away from her side.
‘No. I think that you are in love.’
He sighed and splayed a hand against her pearly scales, marvelling, as he often did, at her incredible beauty.
“I think that I messed up.”
‘I think you did, too. Now sleep, Little One.’
With that, Aravae tented her wing over her Rider. He lay on his back for a long time, staring at the thin membrane that stretched between the bones in Aravae’s wing. If he strained his eyes, he could just see specks of light behind it - the stars in the sky.
“I love you, Aravae.”
‘And I you, Little One. And I you.’
----
The trip back to the Elven forest was more awkward than either of them could have imagined. They had only each other and their dragons for company, and when the dragons went hunting and left them around the fire, it was tense, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and those of the desert around them.
Merlin started into the flames, watching them dance. Arthur sat opposite him, doing exactly the same thing - simply staring into the flames, watching them flicker. They didn’t speak at all. At one time, they might have felt comfortable with the silence, but now it was tense and they wanted nothing more than for the reassuring presence of their dragons.
The fire cast the planes and angles of Merlin’s face into deep shadow. His eyes were hidden and Arthur had even less of an idea than ever as to what the elf was thinking. He hugged his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them, staring into the fire. He missed Merlin so much that it hurt. He missed what they’d had, what they’d lost. He wanted to fix whatever it was that had been broken, whatever it was that was lying shattered at their feet, but he had no idea where to even begin, much less what he’d need to do to build it back to what it was.
Merlin allowed himself to think of the other Riders around the fire, and the relationships he’d had with them.
Druindar had been his teacher - he has respected him greatly. He was older and wiser than he, and Merlin still saw him as that now, even when he was old and, as some said, wise. But Druindar had been everything Merlin had ever wanted to be, and he knew that after his death he had tried to fill his role more than the others. He wanted to be respected and great like Druindar, but instead he was shunned and feared. He was nothing like Druindar, not really.
Gaius had been the father figure he had never known - Balinor, Merlin’s real father, had died when he was very young. As the only human Rider, Gaius had been more alone than any of them, because of the mistrust - the King was a human Rider, too. But Gaius had been strong. He had been smart, and had taught Merlin as much as he could about medicine - he had been a physician before becoming a Rider. He knew more about healing - with and without magic - than Merlin had ever thought possible. Gaius had taken Merlin under his wing and now Merlin could heal any number of ailments, even if he couldn’t use magic.
Tanyl had been his friend, his training partner. Closest to him in age and skill level, they had trained together when they had wanted to get something right. Merlin had helped Tanyl a lot with his magic - more with how to direct it and the words than anything else - and Tanyl had helped Merlin a lot with becoming more graceful. They had worked well together as a team.
He looked at Arthur now. His relationship with Arthur was very different to his other relationships. He loved Arthur, and Arthur loved him, and it was all confusing and strong and new and raw. He was Arthur’s teacher, and Arthur was his friend. His relationship with Arthur was far more complicated than any Merlin had ever had with anyone before. It was complex and twisted in ways that Merlin hadn’t known possible. And it hurt. Oh, how it hurt.
Arthur peered at Merlin from below his eyelashes. The fire cast his eyes in shadow so that Merlin couldn’t see he was looking at him. He wondered, not for the first, second or even hundredth time, what his teacher was thinking
“I’m sorry.”
Merlin started, startled by the sound of Arthur’s voice slicing through the silence they had both grown so accustomed to.
“What for?”
Merlin’s voice sounded rough even to his own ears. Arthur was looking at him, and even though his eyes were shadowed Merlin could see that they were sparkling.
“For…for making you uncomfortable.”
“I think we both played a part in it. Neither of us is blameless.”
They sat in silence for a while, mulling over the words.
“But I started it.”
“But I reciprocated.”
The silence roared again, except now it crackled with energy and unspoken words. They stared at each other over the top of the flickering flames, then slowly both of them looked away.
They didn’t speak another word all night, and curled against their dragon’s side when they got back, settling down for the night.
----
Things were no better when the finally got back to Du Weldenvarden, either. They spent the first night on the edge of the forest and then started walking through it the next, allowing their dragons to fly without their Riders for a while. Arthur followed Merlin silently as he lead them through the trees. For the first time, their closeness felt oppressive rather than safe.
‘Talk to him,’ Vesparr advised from above the trees. If Arthur strained his ears, he could almost hear their wing beats.
‘About what? How much I’ve ruined everything?’ he asked sarcastically. Vesparr sighed.
‘No. Talk to him about something sensible,’ Vesparr chided. Arthur rolled his eyes.
‘Like how I ruined everything?’ he asked again. Vesparr growled over their link.
‘You are impossible,’ he stated. Arthur sighed softly, causing Merlin to glance over his shoulder questioningly. Arthur presented him with what might have passed for a small smile on anyone else, and Merlin turned back around.
‘I can’t talk to him, Vesparr. I’ve completely ruined everything we ever had. I’ve probably ruined everything we could have had, too. Because I let my emotions get the better of me.’
‘Arthur, do not doubt yourself so. Merlin is scared. He cares for you - you must know that, at least. It may take him some time to admit it, but he does. We both do, but it seems as though I am the voice of reason in this entire disaster. Just remember that Merlin has lost everyone close to him in the past. Everyone but myself died in that battle, Arthur. The only way he could have lost more was if Hunith, Will and I had fallen with them. He has spent many years since training himself not to get attached so he doesn’t get his heart broken again. As much as it hurts, you should feel honoured that he cared enough to run away. I know you don’t see it that way, but it means he cares about you enough not to want to get attached, only to have you torn away.’
It was Aravae’s voice, calm and clear, that spoke to him. Merlin clearly had no idea, and he kept striding purposefully onwards towards Ellesméra.
‘He doesn’t make it easy. He never has. I don’t think he even realises, Aravae,’ Arthur sighed. Aravae chuckled, and he heard the rumble above them. Merlin glanced upwards, recognising his dragon’s laughter, then back at Arthur, who merely shrugged.
‘He never does, Arthur. If he did, Will would have succeeded long ago in opening him up. He didn’t realise, for a long time, but he does now. He just won’t talk about it,’ Aravae explained.
‘Will wants Merlin?’ Arthur asked, surprised. Aravae sighed
‘Yes. Don’t tell him, though - he has no idea. Will doesn’t either, not really. He doesn’t know what he really wants, only that Merlin is the person he is closest to. He will find an Elven woman one day, I am sure, but for now he is chasing Merlin, though neither of them realise that he is doing so.’
Arthur thought about it. Will knew Merlin much better than he did. If anyone was going to be successful in chasing Merlin, it would be him, and not Arthur. Arthur, in comparison, knew very little about the quiet elf he had fallen so hard for. What kind of chance did he stand?
‘A much better one than Will. Merlin does not feel for Will the way he does for you,’ Aravae reassured him.
‘Or maybe he just doesn’t know he feels that way about Will.’
‘No, he does not feel that way about Will. If anyone would know, it would be me.’
Aravae was silent after that, allowing Arthur to mull over her words. She knew that Arthur was too proud to ever mention any of their conversation to Merlin - he wouldn’t want the elf to know how much he was hurting. His golden brows creased together as he thought. It made sense that Will wanted Merlin, even if neither of them really knew it. They had known each other for a long time - far longer than Arthur could even imagine knowing someone, even knowing that his life was now extended by a significant length of time. Would Arthur know Merlin for that long? Would they still know each other in a century? In two? Arthur knew that he wanted to, but he didn’t know if they’d even be talking next week, never mind in a century.
When they arrived at the clearing, their dragons were there waiting. Vesparr was still so small compared to the great bulk of Aravae, and it amazed Arthur to think that one day he’d be bigger than her. Bigger than Aravae! Bigger than the great white dragon. He’d be larger and broader than her, but she would always be faster. Arthur looked at them. Vesparr was about two thirds the size of Aravae now, and was still growing fast. How long would it be until they were the same size? Until it was he, and not Merlin, with the bigger dragon? It wouldn’t change anything, however, and Arthur knew that. Merlin and Aravae would still have a stronger bond, a bond that defied everything to remain unbroken. Arthur couldn’t even begin to imagine the things Merlin had been through when he thought his dragon would leave him. He rested a hand on Vesparr’s foreleg and the golden dragon lowered his head, huffing a warm breath of air out of his nostrils, making Arthur’s hair ruffle.
‘Don’t worry too much,’ Vesparr told him.
‘I think I may be programmed to worry too much. Being around elves gives you a complex,’ Arthur said. Vesparr nuzzled his shoulder lightly.
‘You are better than most Elven fighters and you know it,’ Vesparr informed him.
Arthur tilted his head back to peer up into Vesparr’s face. There was complete sincerity in his words, and Arthur knew he meant them.
‘Thank you,’ Arthur said. Vesparr laughed softly.
‘Don’t thank me. I was only telling you what you already knew.’
‘I do wonder sometimes,’ Arthur said, and Vesparr huffed a laugh into his hair.
‘Never doubt yourself, Arthur. We don’t.’
That we that Vesparr had thrown in so casually encased Merlin and Aravae in it, too. Arthur peered at them cautiously. Aravae, he knew, didn’t doubt him. But he was worried now about Merlin, and how he now thought of him, as a Rider, as a person, as a friend. He had thought that he had known, but know he was not so sure. He wasn’t really sure about anything anymore.
Merlin stopped a way away from the Elven city, and turned to face Arthur. His expression was neutral, but his eyes churned with a thousand different thoughts and emotions.
“Arthur. I know what has passed between us complicates things, but I want to know if we can start again. We are Riders. We are the last hope that people have. We can’t let everything get in the way of that. Tomorrow, we shall return to our normal routine. There is still much that I must teach you, Arthur. In the morning, I bask by a lake near my rooms. Aravae will show Vesparr the way, if you wish to join me. I won’t blame you if you don’t turn up, but know it would be a pleasure. The rest of today is yours to do with what you wish.”
Arthur stared at him. So Merlin wanted him to just forget what had passed between them? He wanted him to forget the way he had felt when they had kissed, the way Merlin had kissed back, the way they’d battled and Merlin had submitted because it was the one area he was inexperienced in?
The way he had ran away, taking Arthur’s heart with him and leaving a gaping hole in his chest?
Merlin, as if reading Arthur’s thoughts, sighed sadly. His carefully crafted neutral expression flickered and for a moment - only the briefest of moments - he looked as hurt and as lost and as conflicted as Arthur. And then the mask was back, and he was back to be Merlin the elf, calm, collected, in control. This was the Merlin Arthur knew. This was the Merlin he had fallen in love with. The Merlin who had kissed him and thrown snowballs at him and laughed so freely seemed like a different person by comparison. Arthur had fallen in love with that Merlin, too. He wanted to see more of that Merlin. That Merlin was magical.
“I don’t expect you to forget, Arthur. I know that I won’t. I can’t. All I ask is that you - we, both of us - try to carry on as normal. There are people that need us, Arthur. Hundreds of people. Thousands. We have to be strong and carry on for them. They need us.”
Arthur looked at him, blue eyes darkening slowly in deep sadness. Merlin sighed and turned away to hide the pain in his own eyes. When he turned back to Arthur, they showed nothing.
“What about what I need? What about what we need?” Arthur whispered, knowing Merlin could hear him. Merlin’s expression flickered slightly.
“We need to protect the people,” Merlin said, in a voice that Arthur knew he was saying what was expected of him, and not what he really felt.
“We need each other, Merlin. You know that as well as I do. Don’t tell me you can’t feel it, too. I need you, Merlin. I need you more than I thought possible, more than is healthy. The only thing I care for more than you is Vesparr,” Arthur’s voice was low and serious and Merlin knew he meant every word. The last comment echoed what he had said to Aravae, and it hurt to realise Arthur felt exactly the same.
“Arthur, please. We can’t do this.”
“No, you can’t. No, that isn’t right either. You won’t. You won’t, Merlin, because you are scared. You are scared to open yourself up to people. You were hurt once, and I understand that, but you can’t be that way forever. You’ve built a wall to keep people out. You’ve put up all these barriers to stop people getting in, finding out who you really are. I think I caught glimpses of that person in that clearing. The person who laughs freely and is cautious and wonderful and perfect. And I want that person back, Merlin. Because I love him. Okay? I love you, Merlin Emrys.”
They stared at each other for a long time after Arthur’s passionate, sudden announcement. Arthur felt blood rush to the surface of his skin as he blushed furiously. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, but Merlin was being so infuriating. And now he really had blown in.
“I think,” Merlin said slowly, his voice slightly strangled, showing his distress, “that we should go and unpack. I will see you tomorrow, Arthur.”
And with that parting comment, Merlin turned and strode into Ellesméra.
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin, a bit of Arthur/Gwen, and a bit of Gwen/Lancelot. Later on, anyway.
Warnings: Violence, dragons, elves, magic. Y'know, fantasy stuff.
Spoiler(s): Nope. None at all.
Word count: 3911 for this chapter.
Rating: PG. At the moment, anyway. Different chapters may change.
Summary: AU, based on the Inheritence Cycle books by Christopher Paolini - you don't need to have read them to follow this story, however. Merlin is an elf with blue eyes - rare - who is Rider to a white dragon - also rare. He is broken, and the last hope for training the new Rider when the final free egg hatches. It does hatch, to Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther, King of the nation Surda. The egg hatches for Arthur while visiting the Varden - he picked it up when someone dropped it, and it hatched. Uther hates Riders and doesn't want his son to be one, but Arthur is adament. So he goes back to Du Weldenvarden to be training by Merlin and his dragon, Aravae. They dislike each other from the start.
Author's Notes: I utterly adore Christopher Paolini's books, and I've always wanted to write something based on them. I was thinking and thinking and I came up with this. I've loved writing it, and I hope that you enjoy reading it. The title means Dragon Riders Rise in the Ancient Language, the ones used in the books. I couldn't come up with anything I liked in English, so I used that instead.
Author's Note II: Chapter ten! I am so, so sorry that it took me so long. It has been half finished for a long time, and my plot bunnies have been extremely uncooperative recently, but I finally finished it. I've not been here much recently, but here we go, I'm back. This chapter was written for the lovely mychaostheorem as a birthday present. I would also like to thank Muffin - aka woodsgal - for being awesome and always encouraging me. With thanks also to book_worm_vicky , for also encouraging me and never giving up on this fic. And finally, thanks to mybrainsrmush and the other person ( I'm sorry, I couldn't find the comment and don't remember your name - let me know? ) who commented asking when this would be done. You helped kick me into gear. In this chapter, the Riders travel back to Du Weldenvarden and there is awkwardness and angst. As usual.
‘Arthur? Arthur, are you okay?’
Vesparr was in danger of actually cracking the thick ice, but he refused to move. His Rider was curled into a ball behind the waterfall, hugging his legs against his chest. His tears had long since dried, but he was staring at the frozen water in front of him with an expression of such loss that it made Vesparr hurt all over. He shifted his weight slightly, pressing his worry over their link.
“I’m fine,” Arthur croaked. It was barely more than a whisper, and Vesparr whined - a noise he hadn’t made since he was small.
‘I’m worried,’ he said.
“Don’t be.”
‘Come out? Please?’
Arthur finally turned his gaze to his dragon. His eyes were empty - there was nothing there. Finally, Arthur took the barriers down and Vesparr felt everything flood over. It was painful - intensely so. Loss and loneliness and hurt and desperation, all muddled together in a confusing mess that made Vesparr’s head hurt.
‘Please?’
Finally, Arthur managed to drag himself out from behind the waterfall. He fell into the snow at the edge of the lake, looking so woeful that Vesparr felt his own expression morph into a matching one. He clambered awkwardly off the ice, glad to finally be off the groaning water.
“Vesparr…I love him.”
Arthur’s voice was hoarse from crying, barely above a whisper. If it were not for the fact that Vesparr knew what he was saying from his thoughts, he wouldn’t be able to hear what his Rider was saying.
‘I know.’
“And yet…he kissed back but…doesn’t feel the same.”
‘I’m sure he does, Arthur.’
“How could he and just…just run away like that?”
Vesparr sighed, more of an expulsion of air through his nostrils than anything else. He cleared the snow from around Arthur with a sweep of his powerful tail, and curled himself around his Rider, providing the warmth he needed.
‘Try to see it from his perspective.’
Arthur leant against Vesparr, grateful for the warmth. For all his immaturity, Vesparr could be wise and caring when Arthur needed it most, just like Aravae was with Merlin. Their relationship was still different from theirs - they had not been together long enough or been through enough together to form the kind of bond the Elven Rider had with his dragon - but it was changing in small, slow steps.
“How can I? I don’t know what he was thinking,” Arthur rasped. Vesparr sighed and curled his neck around his Rider, peering up at him with large, liquid golden eyes.
‘He’s lost almost everyone he cares about, Arthur. He lost the other Riders. I think he’s scared that he’ll lose you, too.’
Arthur stared at Vesparr, at the honesty in his eyes and his voice and his mind. He thought about it slowly, mulling over the words for much longer than he really needed too, staring off into some middle distance, fingers absentmindedly tracing the patterns that Vesparr’s scales made where the overlapped.
“You really think that?” he asked, voice wavering dangerously.
‘Yes. It’s what I gathered from Aravae.’
“You talked to Aravae about it?”
‘Of course I did. Do you think that we just hunt and discuss flying?’
Vesparr sounded affronted, and Arthur’s lips quirked upwards at the corners. It was barely perceptible, but Vesparr noticed and felt proud that he had managed to get his Rider to smile - albeit barely - when he was feeling at his lowest.
“No. I just didn’t know you talked about us.”
‘You are a big topic, actually. We’ve known for a long time, Arthur.’
“And yet you never said anything.”
‘Aravae said it was something Merlin needed to work out on his own. She said I wasn’t to tell you any of this until the moment was right. I think that this moment is right.’
Arthur looked at Vesparr. Childish, silly Vesparr, who was so worried about him, who was being so serious and helpful now, just when Arthur needed it most.
‘I am always what you need most, Arthur.’
“Do you think you’ll ever grow up?”
‘Honestly? I really, really hope not.’
Arthur managed something that was actually recognisable as a smile then. It was still small, but it was definitely a smile. He stood slowly and stretched his body out. Vesparr got to his feet behind him, shaking himself out.
‘Are we going to head back now?’
“Yes. Come on, Vesparr. I am sorry I made you worry about me.”
‘Don’t be. It is my job to worry about you.’
----
The Riders avoided each other as much as possible for the remainder of their time in Surda. They came together when they had to, practiced fighting and attended things, but it was not the same. They were stilted and awkward - dancing around each other and the very obvious dragon in the room. The kiss. The waterfall. But they would not speak of it, so they kept quiet and were polite and formal to each other.
They both hated it.
Arthur hated it because this was Merlin, the man he loved, and it was insane that they should be like this with each other. The previous ease of their relationship, they way they spoke and acted when together, was gone, replaced instead by an awkwardness Arthur would have never thought two people could achieve. But they had managed it, and Arthur knew it was his fault. Not entirely, maybe, because Merlin had kissed back and ran away - the thought of that still made Arthur’s chest clench and he only thought of it when alone because it also never failed to make the tears fall - but it was he that had started it.
Merlin hated it because Arthur was the one person in however many ridiculously long years it had been that actually understood him. Understood him and what he was going through and how hard it was. They connected on a level Merlin had never connected with anyone - not even the other Riders. Only his bond with Aravae was more precious to him than Arthur.
‘People do stupid things when they are in love.’
This was what Aravae said to Merlin as he was curling up to sleep. He hadn’t slept in his rooms in Surda the entire time he had been there. It was strange being that far from Aravae - in Du Weldenvarden and at the Varden she was always in the same room as him, always close. When they were travelling, she protected Merlin from the elements with a wing. He was so used to having her close that every night he had left his rooms and gone to curl against he warm, smooth side, then gone back to his rooms before anyone had woken the next day.
“You think I’m stupid?” he murmured, tugging a blanket over him - it was chilly at night, and even Aravae could not quite provide all the warmth Merlin needed, especially when he rolled away from her side.
‘No. I think that you are in love.’
He sighed and splayed a hand against her pearly scales, marvelling, as he often did, at her incredible beauty.
“I think that I messed up.”
‘I think you did, too. Now sleep, Little One.’
With that, Aravae tented her wing over her Rider. He lay on his back for a long time, staring at the thin membrane that stretched between the bones in Aravae’s wing. If he strained his eyes, he could just see specks of light behind it - the stars in the sky.
“I love you, Aravae.”
‘And I you, Little One. And I you.’
----
The trip back to the Elven forest was more awkward than either of them could have imagined. They had only each other and their dragons for company, and when the dragons went hunting and left them around the fire, it was tense, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and those of the desert around them.
Merlin started into the flames, watching them dance. Arthur sat opposite him, doing exactly the same thing - simply staring into the flames, watching them flicker. They didn’t speak at all. At one time, they might have felt comfortable with the silence, but now it was tense and they wanted nothing more than for the reassuring presence of their dragons.
The fire cast the planes and angles of Merlin’s face into deep shadow. His eyes were hidden and Arthur had even less of an idea than ever as to what the elf was thinking. He hugged his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them, staring into the fire. He missed Merlin so much that it hurt. He missed what they’d had, what they’d lost. He wanted to fix whatever it was that had been broken, whatever it was that was lying shattered at their feet, but he had no idea where to even begin, much less what he’d need to do to build it back to what it was.
Merlin allowed himself to think of the other Riders around the fire, and the relationships he’d had with them.
Druindar had been his teacher - he has respected him greatly. He was older and wiser than he, and Merlin still saw him as that now, even when he was old and, as some said, wise. But Druindar had been everything Merlin had ever wanted to be, and he knew that after his death he had tried to fill his role more than the others. He wanted to be respected and great like Druindar, but instead he was shunned and feared. He was nothing like Druindar, not really.
Gaius had been the father figure he had never known - Balinor, Merlin’s real father, had died when he was very young. As the only human Rider, Gaius had been more alone than any of them, because of the mistrust - the King was a human Rider, too. But Gaius had been strong. He had been smart, and had taught Merlin as much as he could about medicine - he had been a physician before becoming a Rider. He knew more about healing - with and without magic - than Merlin had ever thought possible. Gaius had taken Merlin under his wing and now Merlin could heal any number of ailments, even if he couldn’t use magic.
Tanyl had been his friend, his training partner. Closest to him in age and skill level, they had trained together when they had wanted to get something right. Merlin had helped Tanyl a lot with his magic - more with how to direct it and the words than anything else - and Tanyl had helped Merlin a lot with becoming more graceful. They had worked well together as a team.
He looked at Arthur now. His relationship with Arthur was very different to his other relationships. He loved Arthur, and Arthur loved him, and it was all confusing and strong and new and raw. He was Arthur’s teacher, and Arthur was his friend. His relationship with Arthur was far more complicated than any Merlin had ever had with anyone before. It was complex and twisted in ways that Merlin hadn’t known possible. And it hurt. Oh, how it hurt.
Arthur peered at Merlin from below his eyelashes. The fire cast his eyes in shadow so that Merlin couldn’t see he was looking at him. He wondered, not for the first, second or even hundredth time, what his teacher was thinking
“I’m sorry.”
Merlin started, startled by the sound of Arthur’s voice slicing through the silence they had both grown so accustomed to.
“What for?”
Merlin’s voice sounded rough even to his own ears. Arthur was looking at him, and even though his eyes were shadowed Merlin could see that they were sparkling.
“For…for making you uncomfortable.”
“I think we both played a part in it. Neither of us is blameless.”
They sat in silence for a while, mulling over the words.
“But I started it.”
“But I reciprocated.”
The silence roared again, except now it crackled with energy and unspoken words. They stared at each other over the top of the flickering flames, then slowly both of them looked away.
They didn’t speak another word all night, and curled against their dragon’s side when they got back, settling down for the night.
----
Things were no better when the finally got back to Du Weldenvarden, either. They spent the first night on the edge of the forest and then started walking through it the next, allowing their dragons to fly without their Riders for a while. Arthur followed Merlin silently as he lead them through the trees. For the first time, their closeness felt oppressive rather than safe.
‘Talk to him,’ Vesparr advised from above the trees. If Arthur strained his ears, he could almost hear their wing beats.
‘About what? How much I’ve ruined everything?’ he asked sarcastically. Vesparr sighed.
‘No. Talk to him about something sensible,’ Vesparr chided. Arthur rolled his eyes.
‘Like how I ruined everything?’ he asked again. Vesparr growled over their link.
‘You are impossible,’ he stated. Arthur sighed softly, causing Merlin to glance over his shoulder questioningly. Arthur presented him with what might have passed for a small smile on anyone else, and Merlin turned back around.
‘I can’t talk to him, Vesparr. I’ve completely ruined everything we ever had. I’ve probably ruined everything we could have had, too. Because I let my emotions get the better of me.’
‘Arthur, do not doubt yourself so. Merlin is scared. He cares for you - you must know that, at least. It may take him some time to admit it, but he does. We both do, but it seems as though I am the voice of reason in this entire disaster. Just remember that Merlin has lost everyone close to him in the past. Everyone but myself died in that battle, Arthur. The only way he could have lost more was if Hunith, Will and I had fallen with them. He has spent many years since training himself not to get attached so he doesn’t get his heart broken again. As much as it hurts, you should feel honoured that he cared enough to run away. I know you don’t see it that way, but it means he cares about you enough not to want to get attached, only to have you torn away.’
It was Aravae’s voice, calm and clear, that spoke to him. Merlin clearly had no idea, and he kept striding purposefully onwards towards Ellesméra.
‘He doesn’t make it easy. He never has. I don’t think he even realises, Aravae,’ Arthur sighed. Aravae chuckled, and he heard the rumble above them. Merlin glanced upwards, recognising his dragon’s laughter, then back at Arthur, who merely shrugged.
‘He never does, Arthur. If he did, Will would have succeeded long ago in opening him up. He didn’t realise, for a long time, but he does now. He just won’t talk about it,’ Aravae explained.
‘Will wants Merlin?’ Arthur asked, surprised. Aravae sighed
‘Yes. Don’t tell him, though - he has no idea. Will doesn’t either, not really. He doesn’t know what he really wants, only that Merlin is the person he is closest to. He will find an Elven woman one day, I am sure, but for now he is chasing Merlin, though neither of them realise that he is doing so.’
Arthur thought about it. Will knew Merlin much better than he did. If anyone was going to be successful in chasing Merlin, it would be him, and not Arthur. Arthur, in comparison, knew very little about the quiet elf he had fallen so hard for. What kind of chance did he stand?
‘A much better one than Will. Merlin does not feel for Will the way he does for you,’ Aravae reassured him.
‘Or maybe he just doesn’t know he feels that way about Will.’
‘No, he does not feel that way about Will. If anyone would know, it would be me.’
Aravae was silent after that, allowing Arthur to mull over her words. She knew that Arthur was too proud to ever mention any of their conversation to Merlin - he wouldn’t want the elf to know how much he was hurting. His golden brows creased together as he thought. It made sense that Will wanted Merlin, even if neither of them really knew it. They had known each other for a long time - far longer than Arthur could even imagine knowing someone, even knowing that his life was now extended by a significant length of time. Would Arthur know Merlin for that long? Would they still know each other in a century? In two? Arthur knew that he wanted to, but he didn’t know if they’d even be talking next week, never mind in a century.
When they arrived at the clearing, their dragons were there waiting. Vesparr was still so small compared to the great bulk of Aravae, and it amazed Arthur to think that one day he’d be bigger than her. Bigger than Aravae! Bigger than the great white dragon. He’d be larger and broader than her, but she would always be faster. Arthur looked at them. Vesparr was about two thirds the size of Aravae now, and was still growing fast. How long would it be until they were the same size? Until it was he, and not Merlin, with the bigger dragon? It wouldn’t change anything, however, and Arthur knew that. Merlin and Aravae would still have a stronger bond, a bond that defied everything to remain unbroken. Arthur couldn’t even begin to imagine the things Merlin had been through when he thought his dragon would leave him. He rested a hand on Vesparr’s foreleg and the golden dragon lowered his head, huffing a warm breath of air out of his nostrils, making Arthur’s hair ruffle.
‘Don’t worry too much,’ Vesparr told him.
‘I think I may be programmed to worry too much. Being around elves gives you a complex,’ Arthur said. Vesparr nuzzled his shoulder lightly.
‘You are better than most Elven fighters and you know it,’ Vesparr informed him.
Arthur tilted his head back to peer up into Vesparr’s face. There was complete sincerity in his words, and Arthur knew he meant them.
‘Thank you,’ Arthur said. Vesparr laughed softly.
‘Don’t thank me. I was only telling you what you already knew.’
‘I do wonder sometimes,’ Arthur said, and Vesparr huffed a laugh into his hair.
‘Never doubt yourself, Arthur. We don’t.’
That we that Vesparr had thrown in so casually encased Merlin and Aravae in it, too. Arthur peered at them cautiously. Aravae, he knew, didn’t doubt him. But he was worried now about Merlin, and how he now thought of him, as a Rider, as a person, as a friend. He had thought that he had known, but know he was not so sure. He wasn’t really sure about anything anymore.
Merlin stopped a way away from the Elven city, and turned to face Arthur. His expression was neutral, but his eyes churned with a thousand different thoughts and emotions.
“Arthur. I know what has passed between us complicates things, but I want to know if we can start again. We are Riders. We are the last hope that people have. We can’t let everything get in the way of that. Tomorrow, we shall return to our normal routine. There is still much that I must teach you, Arthur. In the morning, I bask by a lake near my rooms. Aravae will show Vesparr the way, if you wish to join me. I won’t blame you if you don’t turn up, but know it would be a pleasure. The rest of today is yours to do with what you wish.”
Arthur stared at him. So Merlin wanted him to just forget what had passed between them? He wanted him to forget the way he had felt when they had kissed, the way Merlin had kissed back, the way they’d battled and Merlin had submitted because it was the one area he was inexperienced in?
The way he had ran away, taking Arthur’s heart with him and leaving a gaping hole in his chest?
Merlin, as if reading Arthur’s thoughts, sighed sadly. His carefully crafted neutral expression flickered and for a moment - only the briefest of moments - he looked as hurt and as lost and as conflicted as Arthur. And then the mask was back, and he was back to be Merlin the elf, calm, collected, in control. This was the Merlin Arthur knew. This was the Merlin he had fallen in love with. The Merlin who had kissed him and thrown snowballs at him and laughed so freely seemed like a different person by comparison. Arthur had fallen in love with that Merlin, too. He wanted to see more of that Merlin. That Merlin was magical.
“I don’t expect you to forget, Arthur. I know that I won’t. I can’t. All I ask is that you - we, both of us - try to carry on as normal. There are people that need us, Arthur. Hundreds of people. Thousands. We have to be strong and carry on for them. They need us.”
Arthur looked at him, blue eyes darkening slowly in deep sadness. Merlin sighed and turned away to hide the pain in his own eyes. When he turned back to Arthur, they showed nothing.
“What about what I need? What about what we need?” Arthur whispered, knowing Merlin could hear him. Merlin’s expression flickered slightly.
“We need to protect the people,” Merlin said, in a voice that Arthur knew he was saying what was expected of him, and not what he really felt.
“We need each other, Merlin. You know that as well as I do. Don’t tell me you can’t feel it, too. I need you, Merlin. I need you more than I thought possible, more than is healthy. The only thing I care for more than you is Vesparr,” Arthur’s voice was low and serious and Merlin knew he meant every word. The last comment echoed what he had said to Aravae, and it hurt to realise Arthur felt exactly the same.
“Arthur, please. We can’t do this.”
“No, you can’t. No, that isn’t right either. You won’t. You won’t, Merlin, because you are scared. You are scared to open yourself up to people. You were hurt once, and I understand that, but you can’t be that way forever. You’ve built a wall to keep people out. You’ve put up all these barriers to stop people getting in, finding out who you really are. I think I caught glimpses of that person in that clearing. The person who laughs freely and is cautious and wonderful and perfect. And I want that person back, Merlin. Because I love him. Okay? I love you, Merlin Emrys.”
They stared at each other for a long time after Arthur’s passionate, sudden announcement. Arthur felt blood rush to the surface of his skin as he blushed furiously. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, but Merlin was being so infuriating. And now he really had blown in.
“I think,” Merlin said slowly, his voice slightly strangled, showing his distress, “that we should go and unpack. I will see you tomorrow, Arthur.”
And with that parting comment, Merlin turned and strode into Ellesméra.