I write too much. I just do.
Title: Shur'tugalar Rïsa.
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin, a bit of Arthur/Gwen, and a bit of Gwen/Lancelot, even a bit of Merlin/Morgana. Later on, anyway.
Warnings: Violence, dragons, elves, magic. Y'know, fantasy stuff.
Spoiler(s): Nope. None at all.
Word count: 4130 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 eight! Gosh, I just can't seem to stop myself right now, can I? But hey, my exams are over, and rather than going out and getting legless like a normal person, I am sitting here typing away furiously because I am a weirdo and this is how a celebrate. Anyway, in this chapter there is drunkeness and hangovers and relaxing and fighting and then the Riders travel to Surda. Merlin meets Uther and Gwen, and Arthur discovers something about his best friend and the girl he loves that he really didn't want to know.
The feast was loud and raucous and Merlin had drank far too much and everything was kind of fuzzy and spinning and there was Arthur, dressed in red and with his golden hair looking especially golden, and there was Aravae and Vesparr sat at the head of the table, snickering in that dragon-y way that they had and Vesparr still looked small next to Aravae and gosh, the gold and the white looked good next to each other. Merlin could feel a huge, idiotic grin splitting his face in half as he talked to Leon about who knew what, and then Arthur spluttered next to him and Merlin turned to him in alarm, irises like twin blue gems sparkling as they took in Arthur’s own state of dishevelled drunkenness.
“Merlin! Look! Aravae an’ Vesparr are holdin’ tails! HA! Holdin’ tails!” the blonde spluttered, clapping a hand to his mouth to try and keep the sputtering laughter in.
Merlin looked at the two dragons - who had consumed two barrels of ale each and so were pretty tipsy themselves - and saw that their tails were lapped over each other - they were hardly holding tails, just curling them over each other to keep them out of the way of passing Varden members. But in his drunken state, Merlin started spluttering too.
“HOL…HOL…HOLDIN’ TAILS!” he gasped, pounding the table with his fist in the fit of hysteria that was currently taking hold. Leon was looking at them oddly, but since he too had drank a little too much, he didn’t say anything, just smiled at them. Arthur was giggling in an equally drunken way next to him, so he wasn’t alone in his hysterics.
‘You’ve had far too much to d’ink,’ Aravae informed them, but it was rather ruined by the fact that she slurred the r out of drink.
“So have you!” Merlin howled, still giggling like an imbecile.
‘I can ‘andle it be’ter,’ it was Vesparr this time, his smaller size meaning he was more drunk that Aravae, who snorted in a very un-Aravae like manner at that one. Alcohol made everyone a bit stupid.
“Nooo, you caaaaan’t!” Arthur sang, then spluttered away to himself.
It was getting late and many people had left, leaving the two Riders with their dragons with Leon and a few other Varden members who had attempted to keep up with their drinking and were now fast asleep in their leftover food.
“I think you should be going to bed,” Leon said. He’d only had a few drinks, so he was almost sober. Merlin was too drunk to even be jealous of that fact like he normally was.
“Mmm. Mebbe tha’s a good plan,” Merlin slurred, bobbing his head drunkenly.
He lifted himself to his feet slowly, swaying slightly from side to side. Arthur followed suit, swaying even more, and the pair of them had to cling to each other to remain upright, laughing the entire way back to their caves, shushing each other just to start laughing again moments later, their dragons wavering along behind them and snickering, smoke curling up from Vesparr’s nostrils. How they managed to get back into their caves with their dragons drunk too was a mystery, but manage they did, and Merlin collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, falling asleep moments later, but not after he heard snoring emanating from the direction of Arthur’s cave that was most definitely not of the dragon variety.
----
Pain. Intense pain. Radiating out from behind his eyeballs in the most unpleasant way possible.
Merlin groaned, then instantly regretted it because the groan just intensified the pounding in his head. He slowly opened his eyes and was extremely relieved to find himself in a dim cave - no bright lights to hurt his eyes here. Aravae was groaning too, her eyes slowly opening as she peered at her Rider.
‘Let us agree to never drink that much again,’ she muttered.
‘Agreed,’ Merlin said, not talking because he was fairly sure that his mouth just wouldn’t work when he was in this state.
He lay there for a while, listening to Arthur’s - very loud - snoring. He could hear it through the wall of the cave it was that loud. Eventually he sat up slowly and swung his legs from his bed, heading to where his saddle bags were piled to get some herbs and spices to make the proven hang over cure that Gaius had taught him long ago - it never failed, and once Merlin had drank his and bathed and changed out of the clothes he had worn last night, he’d take some to Arthur.
He stirred and mixed and murmured words and sent flashes of gold through his eyes until he had a large quantity of a dark green, rather unpleasant looking mixture. It smelt and tasted even worse - very sour and very bitter - but it worked like nothing else Merlin had ever known, so he swallowed a glass and gave some to Aravae - the reason he had made so much was so the dragons could have some too - and once he actually felt like himself again, he stripped and headed off to the bathroom to wash.
He dressed himself in his usual attire, nowhere near as regal as his dress things, but that didn’t matter. He gathered up the rest of the hangover cure and headed next door to find Arthur just waking, groaning and pressing a hand to his forehead. Vesparr was just rousing, too, his own dragon-y groan a deep rumble from the bottom of his chest, his eyes pained as he opened them.
“Good morning. I brought you this hangover cure. It doesn’t smell or taste very nice but it works a treat,” Merlin said.
He handed Arthur a glass full and poured the rest onto Vesparr’s tongue. Both Rider and dragon pulled a face at the taste but swallowed it down, Arthur slamming the glass down and shaking his head. Merlin took the glass and smiled.
“Like I said, it doesn’t taste good, but it does the job. I’ll meet you down there in about an hour,” he said, before heading back to his room to clean up the mess he’d made.
Merlin was sprawled on the Star Rose when Arthur and Vesparr finally came down. Aravae was sat nearby, cleaning her scales quietly, while Merlin lay on the huge gem, all legs and arms and narrow body spread out as far as he could, basking in the glow of the sun that was just - just - beginning to peak into the ring at the top. Arthur looked at him for a long time until Merlin cracked open one eye and smiled at him.
“I like it here,” he stated, as if Arthur couldn’t see that with his own two eyes. Merlin looked utterly open like that, in a way the blonde had never seen him before. It was mesmerising.
“I can see that,” Arthur smiled, sitting cross legged next to Merlin and just watching. Eventually, Merlin opened one eye again and chuckled softly. He shifted over so he was no longer in the centre of the gem, moving to one side and indicating for Arthur to lie down too.
“Lie with me, Arthur,” Merlin said, and Arthur knew he shouldn’t read into it but he did, and with a mental sigh he lay down next to Merlin, resting the back of his head on his hands, arms at right angles.
“Now what?” he asked his teacher, but Merlin merely smiled and closed his eyes.
“Just…relax,” the elf said.
And so Arthur did. He closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles, one by one, moving his arms to his sides to relax them too. And he realised why Merlin liked it here, because it was warm and, despite the fact that they were lying on a hard gem, it was comfortable. And he was with Merlin and Vesparr and Aravae were nearby and he could hear their rough tongues rasping over their scales as they cleaned themselves, and there was the occasional click of their claws on the ground or their teeth and they snicked together and it was perfect and restful and Arthur could happily stay there forever, basking in the glow and the warmth and the peacefulness of it all.
“I used to do this with Druindar. He’d get up early and come and do this, and I woke early one day and he asked me to join him. After that, every morning I would join him in basking on Isidar Mithrim. We rarely spoke, but we enjoyed the company. When we got back to Du Weldenvarden, I used to go with him to relax in the morning. Meditate, if you will. I still do it now,” Merlin’s voice was low and soft and so utterly, totally content that Arthur found content settling into all of his bones, too.
“It is rather wonderful,” he murmured. Merlin gave the softest little laugh imaginable.
“That it is, Arthur,” he sighed.
They lay there for a good while, just lying in the sun next to each other, eyes closed. Arthur knew there was a faint smile on his face, and when he cracked an eye open to look at Merlin, he saw that those full pink lips he admired so much were tugged upwards slightly at the corners, too. That made his smile set in a little deeper, and he tilted his head back to the sun, closing his eyes and just being. It was more relaxing than anything Arthur had ever done, just lying there and letting his mind go to wherever it wanted, letting it wander and weave and move in the intricate ways one’s mind moves, jumping from one thing to the next with no clear connection. Arthur could quite happily stay there all day, in the sun with Merlin, just lying there and thinking.
But all good things have to come to an end, and eventually Merlin gave a soft sigh and Arthur sensed movement and when he opened his eyes Merlin was sitting up and looking a little sad.
“Much as I’d like to stay here all day, I think that we should go. Leon said last night - before I got too drunk - that he’d rather like to see us fight, so that is what we shall do,” he said. Arthur sighed regretfully but nodded, sitting and then standing. Merlin stood beside him in one fluid movement, and Arthur couldn’t help but feel a little bit jealous of Merlin’s fluidity, the way he just went from seated to standing in the blink of an eye, so graceful, so effortless.
‘It takes practice,’ Aravae’s voice sounded in his head, and Arthur turned to look at her.
‘What do you mean?’ Arthur asked her.
‘I mean that Merlin used to be incredibly clumsy when he was younger. He worked on becoming flexible and graceful when I hatched for him. He wasn’t always as he was now,’ she explained. Arthur smiled at her, suddenly feeling much better about his own lack of finesse when it came to coordinating his brain with his limbs. While much more coordinated than the average human, spending so much time around the effortlessly graceful elves had given Arthur a bit of a complex. It was good to know that not all the elves were always so perfect.
Merlin stretched his long body out, twisting and then settling back down onto his feet with a contented sigh. Arthur tried to stretch himself out, but he was so relaxed and content after lying there for so long that he found he could barely move.
“I don’t know how good I’ll be in a fight right now,” he mused, looking at his arms where they refused to cooperate with his brain and move. Merlin merely laughed.
“You’ll be fine,” he said. Arthur just looked at him.
“Your fault. Too relaxed,” he muttered, raising his arms successfully then dropping them again in defeat.
“Draw your sword!” Merlin cried, and suddenly Agrivar was being swung at his head and Arthur cried and darted away, tearing Excalibur from its sheath and holding it aloft. Merlin smiled triumphantly.
“What was that for?!” Arthur asked, eyes wide as he slowly lowered Excalibur and slid the sword away.
“Got you to move, didn’t it? Therefore it worked,” Merlin informed him, before heading off to find Leon. Arthur just blinked and followed him hurriedly.
----
Leon found them before they found Leon. Merlin strode purposefully to the Varden’s training grounds, oddly looking more at ease here than he did back with the elves. Maybe because the Varden didn’t tend to skitter away from him to hide when they saw him coming, but instead stared at him in obvious awe. It made Arthur feel uncomfortable - he may be a Prince, but this level of awe and attention was new to him, and it was strange - but Merlin didn’t seem to notice. Then again, Arthur supposed he was used to it. Either that, or he just hid it very, very well.
They found people training at the training field - what else? - and the clash of swords and the yells of fights were familiar sounds to Arthur’s ears. Comforting, in a way, because that was what he had grown up with - sword fights and training, and the noises were the same wherever even if they people weren’t. Merlin stood and watched for a while, seeming to assess the skill of the people there, and Arthur watched Merlin, trying to figure out what was going on in the elf’s head. But of course it was impossible, because Arthur still had no idea at all how an elf’s mind worked, so he would never truly be able to place himself into Merlin’s shoes and see and think and feel like him. Because he was a human, not an elf. That single fact - the single fact that he had been born the wrong race to truly understand his teacher - made Arthur sad.
“Ah, there you are!” Leon’s voice boomed from behind them, and Arthur started and turned to see the Varden’s leader striding over to them, his own sword strapped to his waist, smiling broadly. Something about beards filtered over from Vesparr and Arthur had to fight to keep a straight face.
“Leon! You said you wanted to see us fight?” Merlin asked. Leon nodded.
“Yes, I’d love to see two Riders fighting - as you well know, I was not around when the Riders were last here,” he said, and Merlin smiled.
“That you were not. Come, Arthur. Let us fight,” Merlin said. He always seemed to come over all polite like that when faced with the subject of the other Riders, but Arthur didn’t think too much into it.
When it became clear what was happening, everyone at the training field stopped and started heading over to watch the Riders fight. They withdrew their long, gleaming swords and faced off, both of them smiling. This was not a true training session - like the time Arthur had seen Merlin fight Will, it was more for fun than anything, and he was looking forward to it.
By unspoken consent, both of them leapt into action in the same moment, Merlin’s lithe body darting forwards and Arthur dodging, holding Excalibur in the defensive way that he had quickly learnt was the only way to deflect Merlin’s blows. They darted and danced and moved around each other, laughing softly. If the Varden thought this strange, they said nothing, just watching and cheered. And of course Merlin won, sending Excalibur spinning into the air and the catching the sword by the hilt as it came down, grinning.
“Well fought, Arthur,” he said proudly, handing the blonde his sword back.
“Thank you,” Arthur smiled. Compliments like that meant a lot from Merlin, the best sword fighter he had ever know. He didn’t give them out as often as Arthur would like, so the blonde treasured it when he did.
Leon was clapping and looking thoroughly impressed. Merlin slid Agrivar away, and Arthur followed suit. They made their way over to the Varden leader.
“I am very impressed. I had heard that Riders were good fighters, but that was truly a sight to behold. Arthur, would you mind terribly if I fought with you?” Leon asked. Clearly, he knew that there was no chance he’d ever beat an elf, so he had gone for the human Rider instead.
Arthur looked at Merlin, who merely looked neutral. He was going to leave this one up to Arthur - it was about time he started thinking for himself.
“Of course not,” Arthur said, and Merlin smiled, proud of him. He’d made the right choice.
It was Arthur and Leon now. The Varden didn’t know who to cheer for - their leader or the new Rider who would be their saviour. Merlin could sense the indecision, how unsure they were. A Rider or their leader - it was a choice Merlin would not like the make. But then, his choice had been made for him - it was Arthur he wanted to win.
The fight wasn’t as graceful or dance-like as the two Rider’s had been. Leon was a human, and he was slowly and less graceful, and Arthur picked up on that immediately. Merlin knew he was dragging the fight out so as not to make Leon feel bad, and that made Merlin’s chest swell with pride, because Arthur was learning. He was learning and finding out these things that before he never would have even thought about. It was amazing to Merlin to think that he’d made Arthur do that. He’d created that, the new, thoughtful side to the young man who had seem liked such a hopeless case when he’d started out.
But eventually, Arthur sent Leon’s sword flying. Leon was sweaty and breathless, and Arthur was barely even out of breath. He was getting better by the day, getting stronger and getting more stamina. Leon grinned at Arthur.
“That,” he panted, “was incredible.”
----
The two Riders left the Varden about a week later. Merlin had decided that they should head to Surda to visit, and Arthur had been ridiculously happy about that fact. He’d get to see his father and Morgana and Lancelot and Guinevere. And maybe seeing Guinevere again would help him get out of this hold that Merlin had over him. After all, if beautiful, pure Guinevere couldn’t help, then what could?
They saddled up and said goodbye, flying their way through the mountains towards Surda. Arthur was grinning and happy to be moving again, happier still that they were moving towards his home, the place where he liked best. Merlin merely followed, letting Arthur lead the way, letting him get there first. They were not expecting a visit in Surda, but he was sure that they would be welcomed.
It was a knight that informed Uther of the approaching Riders. A gold dragon and a white one, he said, and Uther had not been amused. Yes, Arthur was home, but he was with his dragon and with this other Rider. All Uther really knew about the Rider of the white dragon was that he was an elf with blue eyes, and that meant magic. Uther would much rather Arthur had come alone, but it could not be helped now.
The dragons landed a way away from the main part of Aberon, where there was enough space for them to land. They got down from their dragon’s backs to walk through the city, people bowing and murmuring words of respect to their Prince and the dark haired elf with blue eyes whose hands were clenched loosely in their fingerless leather gloves and the two great dragons who follow behind them, towering over everyone.
They met Uther outside the castle. He smiles warmly at them, but it is mostly directed at Arthur, and Merlin honestly can’t blame him for that - the blonde is his son, after all.
“Son, it’s good to see you again,” Uther said, and he tugged Arthur into a rough embrace. Merlin finally manages to uncurl his fists and clasps his hands loosely in front of him instead.
“It’s good to see you too, Father,” Arthur said, and they let each other go. Uther turned to Merlin, who presented him with a smile.
“And you…you must be the Rider who I was assured would train my son. I am Uther,” he said, holding a hand out. Merlin shook it.
“I am Merlin, and I am indeed the Rider who has been training your son. He is very talented,” Merlin said. Uther looked proud.
“Of course he is - he is a Pendragon!” Uther stated, and Merlin inclined his head respectfully. Arthur couldn’t help but be jealous of the very diplomatic way Merlin went about everything he did - he was far better at that side of the Rider lark than he was.
“Guinevere!” Arthur suddenly cried, seeing the dark skinned girl across the way. She looked up at her name and looked startled, then grinned.
“Arthur!” she said, and she ran over and flung herself at him in a hug. Uther watched with disappointment - clearly, Guinevere was not good enough for Arthur. Merlin frowned.
Arthur set Guinevere on her feet and pressed their lips together. He pulled away and grinned at her, so happy to see her again. Guinevere was smiling too, though Merlin noticed it didn’t quite reach her eyes, a fact that Arthur had failed to notice. Merlin, wisely, kept his mouth shut and just watched the pair, feeling an odd stirring in the pit of his stomach, a kind of angry sense of loss that he had never felt before.
‘Jealousy.’
The word floated into his conciousness and Merlin was sure that Aravae had placed it there, but he refused to acknowledge it and just kept that neutral faint smile on his face. The perfect representative, that was him.
“It is so good to see you again,” Arthur smiled.
“You look well,” Guinevere murmured, “but I must get back to my duties. Morgana is waiting.”
So Guinevere was Morgana’s maidservant. Interesting. Merlin filed that little fact away for future reference, wondering what Arthur’s sister in all but blood thought about the fact that Guinevere and Arthur were…what? Seeing each other? Merlin wasn’t sure.
Uther showed Arthur and Merlin to their rooms, but Merlin knew he wouldn’t sleep that far away from Aravae. He knew full well that he’d be going and curling up by her side every night, and from the on Arthur’s face he was fairly sure that the blonde Rider would be sleeping with Vesparr, too. The rooms would merely be a base, a place for them to store their things.
The rooms were next door to each other, and soon Arthur was leaning in Merlin’s doorway as the elf looked around the room interestedly, opening cupboards and drawers and examining things. He’d been to Surda once before, but it had been long ago and it hadn’t been to Aberon. This was all rather new to him.
“Do you want to meet Lancelot?” Arthur asked.
“I would love to,” Merlin grinned, and he followed Arthur as the other Rider lead him towards Lancelot’s rooms.
Arthur grinned when they reached it. From what Merlin could gather from Arthur’s description, Lancelot was good looking with longish dark hair and dark eyes. Not especially helpful, really, but it was a start.
“I’m going to surprise him. I think I’ll ask him and Guinevere if they want to go for a flight with us,” Arthur grinned. Merlin nodded, knowing he’d end up with Lancelot sat in front of him while Arthur got to snuggle up to Guinevere and not really caring that much, because clearly Arthur was happy and that made Merlin feel better too. And it felt good to get away from the forest he called home, even if it was to these strange places he didn’t really know.
Arthur flung the door open and then stopped. The blood drained from his face and a whole multitude of emotions filtered into his eyes. Pain, disgust, betrayal, hurt, loss. He stood there for a few moments, Merlin watching worriedly, before he simply turned and walked away.
Merlin stepped forwards to see what it was that had made Arthur act so strangely. He peered into Lancelot’s rooms and as soon as he saw, he understood.
Guinevere and a man Merlin could only assume was Lancelot were tangled together on the bed, naked, moving together. Merlin shut the door quietly and turned to follow Arthur.