The Yule of Frost and Fire, for Tansyuduri
Title: The Yule of Frost and Fire
Recipient: Tansyuduri (on Discord)
Author: Gilli_ann
Rating: PG
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin
Summary: With the help of Kilgharrah, Merlin plans a perilous and hurried journey home to Ealdor to bring healing potions to suffering villagers. When Arthur insists on joining and helping him in the freezing cold right before Yule, a chain of events is set in motion that will lead to surprising revelations and a happy ending.
Warnings: No warnings. Content tags include; Canon AU, Magic Revealed, Hurt/Comfort, Angst With Happy ending, Friends to Lovers, Banter
Word Count: 3.3K
Author's Notes: Dear Tansyuduri, here's a dragon-ride fic for you! I've also tried to include a number of your likes, and I hope you enjoy reading this. A very merry Christmas to you!
A big thank you goes to the mods for continuing to organize this charming fest, and also to my wonderful cheerleader and beta, Gwyllion.
Disclaimer: Merlin is owned by the BBC and Shine. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. Don't send us to the dungeons.
The Yule of Frost and Fire
"You'll do it? And without me commanding you first?"
"Young warlock, I am in a Yule mood. Besides, I have always liked your lady mother. A visit with her is long overdue."
"She'll be happy to see you again."
"I do resent being treated as a mule, Merlin. But for once, since it's for a good cause, I'll allow it, and do it freely."
"Thank you, Kilgharrah. I won't forget this."
"Well, off you run to inform young Pendragon. Don't keep me waiting. No dragon was ever known for his patience."
* * * * *
Merlin entered Arthur's chambers at speed. Barging through the door, he was relieved to find Arthur present and alone.
Arthur looked up from a stack of parchments, lowering his quill and considering Merlin with a look of mixed annoyance and mirth. "Where's the fire, Merlin? Can't you ever enter a room like a normal person?"
"I had word from my mum. A severe sweating illness has broken out in Ealdor. Many are very ill. My mum has been poorly too. They need medicine from Gaius. He's just brewed a big batch of potions." Merlin had to pause to draw breath, before he barreled on. "Meanwhile, I've collected some other supplies for Ealdor, so they'll have enough provisions to celebrate a proper Yule. I beg leave of absence to take it all there."
"I'm sorry to hear about Hunith, Merlin. You know how much I like her. I'll allow your absence. But how on earth are you supposed to get the potions and all the supplies there in time?"
"I'll ride."
"Alone? Through the heavy snow and cold and fog?"
"I'm not as useless as you think."
"There are wolves in the forest, Merlin. And dangerous outlaws. They'll be hunting you and your Yule supplies. You'll never make it, you silly oaf."
"I'll be careful."
"You are, and remain, a terrible servant. But still, I don't want you to freeze to death in a snow drift while Ealdor suffers." Arthur put his quill down, gave the parchments in front of him a malevolent glance, and stood up. "I'll accompany you. I'll see to it that you get there alive and can deliver the potions on time."
"That's not possible!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I mean, you don't have time for that. You obviously need to finish all the greetings to the other kingdoms," Merlin indicated the parchments, "you can't just leave Camelot for many days right before Yule. What about the court feasts and the pageantry and your duty lighting the ceremonial log? What would your father say?"
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "You seem very keen to keep me at home, Merlin. Makes me wonder what you're really up to. Is the story about Ealdor even true?"
"Of course it is."
"You're not just planning on three days of wild carousing in the tavern with Gwaine?"
"I would never lie about my mum being in danger."
"Well then, what's the problem?"
Merlin squirmed. He regretted having asked Arthur to be allowed to leave. The way this was going he should rather have just gone off without a word, and thought up some excuse later. "You might catch the illness too, Arthur. Even if you are a dollophead, Camelot can't do without you," he hedged.
Arthur frowned. "If so, we'll have a potion from Gaius on hand for me. Come on, Merlin. Let's get dressed and get going. Two birds with one stone; you'll have proper protection, and I get away from writing these horribly dratted Yule greetings."
"But... but the king?"
"Leave my father to me. He'll be happy enough to let Morgana take over my ceremonial duties. I'll tell him I have to look into the rumour of some sinister sorcerers wreaking havoc on the border with Essetir."
Merlin felt himself going pale. His brain felt like mush. He had run out of objections.
"Why are you standing there petrified like a stupid stoat?" Arthur grinned.
Merlin bit his lip, resigning himself to the inevitable. He hadn't planned for it to happen this way, but it obviously would have to happen some day, and his mum's life was at risk. The whole village of Ealdor was at risk. Kilgharrah would be getting impatient. He could not squander more time.
"Very well. We'll go together," he said with a sigh. "On one condition."
Arthur shook his head. "Really, Merlin. Who do you think you are? I make the decisions and set the conditions here."
"Nevertheless, whatever happens and whatever you happen to see, I need you to promise that you won't make a fuss about it until we're back in Camelot again."
Arthur raised an eyebrow speculatively. "Am I about to witness something illegal? Are there more people than Will in Camelot who practice magic? What is this all about?"
"Please, just promise me. Time is running out."
Arthur shrugged. "Oh well. I promise. No fuss until we return here. But then all bets are off."
Merlin nodded. "You'll have to dress warmly. And then, let's go!"
* * * * *
Kilgharrah was not pleased. He reared up, spreading his wings wide in a huff, smoke spouting from his nostrils. "Why have you brought your Pendragon princeling here? This was not at all what we agreed, young warlock."
Arthur stood as if rooted to the ground. His face had turned lethally pale, and his eyes darted from the Great Dragon to Merlin and back again. He clearly was trying to speak, but only managed to emit a pitiable croak.
Merlin patted Arthur's shoulder reassuringly and faced the dragon with a look of command. "He's coming with us, that's all there is to that. All the supplies and the potions are in the net in front of you. Carry that in your claws, please. Arthur and I will ride on your back. Now, let's go."
Kilgharrah's small yellow eyes glistened with ire. "One day there'll be a price to pay for this trickery," he grumbled, but made no further objections.
Merlin gently nudged Arthur. "We'll have to move. Can you climb his back? I promise it is completely safe. I'll be sitting in front. Hold on to me."
Arthur shook his head, not as much objecting to Merlin's words as in denial of what his eyes were showing him. "That's... that's the dragon, the dragon I killed, isn't it?"
"He may not have been quite dead," Merlin admitted.
Kilgharrah harrumped loudly. "A puny Pendragon, killing me without the use of strong magic? Ridiculous!"
Finally, Arthur managed to make his limbs move. No one had ever been able to call the prince's courage into question, and Merlin was filled with admiration as he watched Arthur approaching the dragon and slowly clambering up his flank, laboriously settling himself astride Kilgharrah's upper back between two of the bony spikes along his spine. Arthur's face was frozen in rigid determination. He glanced down at Merlin, still on the ground, and stated ominously; "There will be a reckoning."
"I know," Merlin replied, rapidly ascending the dragon's bulk to place himself right in front of Arthur. "Hold on to me. Kilgharrah, we're ready to go."
Spreading his huge leathery wings wide, Kilgharrah leapt into the air. The vigorous flapping as he ascended sounded like thunder, and every beat of his wings sent a gust of wind into his two passengers' faces.
It wasn't often that Merlin had ridden the Great Dragon, but every time it happened, he felt the same burst of immense exhilaration. "Woo-hoo!" he hollered, throwing his arms wide and feeling his heart soar even as the three of them gained altitude.
Arthur clearly was not as excited. He maintained a death grip around Merlin's waist and his breath against Merlin's neck came in short agitated gulps. Always an accomplished horseman, though, Arthur maintained a firm seat even as Kilgharrah twisted in the air and turned to fly eastwards.
Slowly, Arthur relaxed his desperate grip, and his breathing quieted. "I think I'm dreaming," he eventually muttered.
Merlin grinned.
An early winter dusk was settling across the land, but the rays of the pale winter sun still illuminated the landscape beneath them, colouring it the palest of pinks. They passed frozen fields and lakes, glistening white or tinted every shade of deep blue where trees or hills barred the sunlight. They flew high above wide expanses of snow-covered forests. Now and then the dragon scared up small herds of deer, fear giving their feet wings as they fled through the deep snow.
They could also see the occasional village, nestled in sheltered valleys and at the edge of woodland copses. The thatched roofs were covered by snow, but there were dark paths trodden between the houses, and thin trails of smoke rose into the chilly evening air from the evening fires lighted on the hearths. Even though both Arthur and Merlin felt icy cold by now, their noses virtual icicles, they could still smell the comforting woodsmoke.
"What an unbelievable adventure," Arthur breathed into Merlin's frost-bitten ear. "I never dreamt of seeing Camelot from above like this, seeing just how beautiful our land is. She truly is worth fighting for."
Merlin opened his mouth to reply, his breath creating a puff of white. No words would come - his teeth were chattering too much. Even though they had planned for warm clothes, Merlin as usual was completely underdressed for the icy conditions, and he felt frozen solid by now. Since he was sitting in front, the frosty blast of their forward momentum affected him the most.
By now, darkness had fallen, and they could no longer see the ground.
A vast panoply of stars had emerged in the sky. Moving through the air, the dragon's large wings beating time, suspended in darkness, a million small cold lights twinkling above, their journey was nothing short of a fairy-tale experience.
Merlin trusted Kilgharrah enough to know the dragon would be able to navigate by the stars and find his way in the dark. But he also realized that they needed to arrive in Ealdor very soon, or risk severe hypothermia. Somehow he managed to make his tongue and frozen lips work enough for him to yell; "We're freezing to death up here! Are we soon there?"
"We have arrived," Kilgharrah rumbled irritatedly in reply. "I'm descending. Don't you see the lights?"
Straining his eyes, Merlin did indeed glimpse a few small lights through the murk. Ealdor was a tiny and poor village. People did not needlessly use candles or lanterns, and the home fires were few.
Moments later, Kilgharrah's vast bulk hit the ground with a loud thump, jarring the frozen bones of his two passengers. Arthur was the first to slide down the dragon's flank, landing in the snow and rolling to the side. Merlin couldn't rightly manage to follow suit. He was shivering uncontrollably.
"Merlin!" Arthur called. "Are you able to move?"
Merlin's teeth continued to chatter. "It's so hot here," he said, tugging at his neckerchief with shaking fingers. "Too hot!"
In one smooth move, Kilgharrah turned his head, bit down on the neck of Merlin's coat, lifted him into the air and placed him gently on the ground in front of Arthur. "Take him, princeling, and find help. He is dying from the cold. I will wait here."
Arthur didn't waste time replying. Lifting Merlin into his arms, he stumbled through the snow towards the village as fast as his stiff unwilling legs would carry the two of them. Luckily, he remembered which cottage was Hunith's. He was relieved to see light through the small window and smoke from the pipe.
Merlin muttered something unintelligible and twisted in Arthur's arms.
Holding Merlin tight against his chest, Arthur hammered on the door. "Open up! It's Arthur Pendragon. I've got Merlin here, and he's ill!"
He could hear hurried steps inside, and then the door was ripped open. Hunith took in the sight of the two of them, immediately motioning Arthur inside. "Come in, come in, place him on the pallet by the fire. I'll collect blankets and my herbs," she said. "What has happened to him?"
Arthur was relieved to feel the warmth of the fire, and glad enough to be able to
lay Merlin down. "We're here with medicine for the village," he said, watching Hunith quickly and efficiently lighting several candles and an oil lamp, putting more logs on the fire, and taking Merlin's by now unresponsive hands in hers. Worry was etched into her features as she studied her son's face intently.
"The Great Dragon brought us here. Merlin almost froze to death," Arthur explained.
Hunith looked amazed. "Kilgharrah took you here? I didn't think you knew... never mind. We urgently need to warm Merlin up. Are you well enough to help him?"
"Of course," Arthur said with fake confidence, hoping she couldn't see the shivers wracking his body.
Hunith looked at him for a moment, as if holding an inner debate, then nodded. "Please get him out of his clothes and wrap him in these blankets. I'll find bricks to heat and brew him a hot herbal drink." She turned away and started rummaging in a small chest.
Arthur for his part made quick work of divesting Merlin of his icy clothes, noticing as if for the first time how thin his manservant was, how long and delicate his limbs, and how pale-blue the tint of his skin.
Carefully, he wrapped Merlin in one woolen blanket after the other, rubbing his feet and his cold hands on Hunith's instruction.
Meanwhile, Hunith placed a number of fire-heated bricks all along Merlin's body. She sat down next to her son, for the first time openly showing her distress as she stroked his hand and leaned forward to kiss his brow.
"Oh," she whispered, and dashed a tear from her cheek as Merlin's eyelids fluttered and he coughed a few times. "You silly boy, will you never stop making me fear for your life?"
She lifted her son up into a reclining position. Holding him close, she carefully brought a cup of a mulled herbal potion to his lips.
After a moment of inhaling the heat from the cup, Merlin took a sip and sighed. His face had regained a more natural hue.
Arthur sat back against the wall next to mother and son, completely knackered. The fear for Merlin's life and the hectic activity to save him had kept his own exhaustion at bay, but now he felt the full force of it.
He ought to think about Merlin's treachery in keeping the truth about the dragon hidden. He ought to think about Merlin being a warlock, which meant he had magic. He ought to be furious and to feel completely betrayed. But all he could feel was a deep relief and gratitude that Merlin was alive and would recover. What would he ever do without Merlin by his side?
Shaking his head to keep himself awake, he turned to Hunith. "The dragon is right outside the village. He's got medicines for those who suffer from the sweating sickness and some things to help Ealdor celebrate Yule. He's waiting."
Merlin had drunk the entire potion. Hunith eased him back down, placed a folded blanket under his head, checked his pulse, and stood up. She looked at Arthur. "I see that you too are completely worn out," she said. "Is it too much for me to ask you to look after Merlin, to continue keeping him warm? I can ask the widow Simmons if she'll come over if you'd rather-"
"No need for that," Arthur replied, righting his back and raking a hand through his hair in an attempt to appear alert. "I will look after Merlin. He'll be safe with me."
Hunith considered his words for a moment, then nodded and leaned in to stroke Merlin's brow. "Thank you, Prince Arthur. I'll go see about the distribution of medicine and food. And I do have a word or two to say to that thoughtlessly moronic dragon!"
Wrapping herself in a green woolen shawl, she stepped out into the night and closed the door behind her.
Arthur was alone with Merlin. Reaching under the blankets, his hand gently slid across bare skin to check Merlin's body temperature. The fire, the hot drink, and the heated bricks had combined to work wonders. Merlin would live.
Merlin's eyelashes fluttered. "Arthur," he whispered.
"I'm here, my dear silly dolt," Arthur said. "We made it to Ealdor, and all will be well."
A ghost of a smile touched Merlin's full lips, and he moved his fingers, beckoning Arthur closer. "You must be cold too. Let's share these blankets, we'll keep warmer that way."
Arthur barely hesitated before following through on this suggestion. He knew it made sense. Inching closer to Merlin, he pulled the blankets across the two of them, tucking them properly in. Their thawing bodies now rested comfortably in a joint warm cocoon.
"You need to rest," Arthur yawned.
"So do you," Merlin mumbled. "I thought you'd be furious."
"Merlin, you risked your life to bring others life-saving medicine. Why would I be angry? That was heroic."
"But you talked about a reckoning.... about the dragon, and... there's the magic-"
"Hush. Don't worry. I know more about you now than I did yesterday, true, but I also know more about me. I know now that I can't live without you. So be at ease. We'll work this out."
Turning slightly to the side, Merlin faced Arthur, and saw only understanding and affection in his eyes, which reflected the bright flames on the hearth.
"You may be my destiny after all," Merlin whispered as his eyes fell shut.
Arthur yawned again. "Let's leave the really big words for another day. You must sleep, and so must I."
When Hunith finally came back to her cottage later in the night, that's how she found them; sleeping soundly, two peas in a pod, two sides of the same coin, snug and warm, alive and well, as close as one.
* * * * *
Yule proved a happy and bountiful occasion in Ealdor that year.
With Gaius' potions to aid them, those who'd been severely ill recuperated in time for the feasting. There was a blazing fire on every hearth, beautiful garlands of holly and ivy on every door, lots of snowmen and even a big snow dragon in the village square, and more than enough good food and rich sweetmeats to go round.
Song and laughter reverberated through the village during the few hours of daylight and long into the night.
The main attraction was the Great Dragon, who dutifully helped cook the villagers' Yule roasts and grilled whole piglets with fiery blasts from his maws. Kilgharrah also entertained everyone with shows of his flying prowess, racing through the air above, doing flips, dives, and somersaults. Best of all, he heated the village pool with his fire. Everyone could swim and bask in gloriously warm water, although the air was frigid and the landscape covered in snow. The children of Ealdor had never seen something so amazing or had so much fun.
Merlin was surprised by Kilgharrah's sudden meek benevolence, but his questions were quelled by a withering glare from the dragon. "Your lady mother drives a hard bargain," was all the explanation Kilgharrah would ever give. Merlin left it at that.
Having regained his energy and strength, Merlin spent a happy and enjoyable Yule by Arthur's side. Now that there were no more secrets, they could talk openly about their past, present, and future, and they grew closer by the hour, to Hunith's quiet delight.
During these few magical days in Ealdor, Hunith's cottage was filled with light and warmth, good food and happiness, and the trusting relationship between Merlin and Arthur grew stronger and firmer and turned into love right in front of her eyes. What proud and fond mother could ever ask for more?
* * * THE END* * *
Recipient: Tansyuduri (on Discord)
Author: Gilli_ann
Rating: PG
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin
Summary: With the help of Kilgharrah, Merlin plans a perilous and hurried journey home to Ealdor to bring healing potions to suffering villagers. When Arthur insists on joining and helping him in the freezing cold right before Yule, a chain of events is set in motion that will lead to surprising revelations and a happy ending.
Warnings: No warnings. Content tags include; Canon AU, Magic Revealed, Hurt/Comfort, Angst With Happy ending, Friends to Lovers, Banter
Word Count: 3.3K
Author's Notes: Dear Tansyuduri, here's a dragon-ride fic for you! I've also tried to include a number of your likes, and I hope you enjoy reading this. A very merry Christmas to you!
A big thank you goes to the mods for continuing to organize this charming fest, and also to my wonderful cheerleader and beta, Gwyllion.
Disclaimer: Merlin is owned by the BBC and Shine. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. Don't send us to the dungeons.
The Yule of Frost and Fire
"You'll do it? And without me commanding you first?"
"Young warlock, I am in a Yule mood. Besides, I have always liked your lady mother. A visit with her is long overdue."
"She'll be happy to see you again."
"I do resent being treated as a mule, Merlin. But for once, since it's for a good cause, I'll allow it, and do it freely."
"Thank you, Kilgharrah. I won't forget this."
"Well, off you run to inform young Pendragon. Don't keep me waiting. No dragon was ever known for his patience."
* * * * *
Merlin entered Arthur's chambers at speed. Barging through the door, he was relieved to find Arthur present and alone.
Arthur looked up from a stack of parchments, lowering his quill and considering Merlin with a look of mixed annoyance and mirth. "Where's the fire, Merlin? Can't you ever enter a room like a normal person?"
"I had word from my mum. A severe sweating illness has broken out in Ealdor. Many are very ill. My mum has been poorly too. They need medicine from Gaius. He's just brewed a big batch of potions." Merlin had to pause to draw breath, before he barreled on. "Meanwhile, I've collected some other supplies for Ealdor, so they'll have enough provisions to celebrate a proper Yule. I beg leave of absence to take it all there."
"I'm sorry to hear about Hunith, Merlin. You know how much I like her. I'll allow your absence. But how on earth are you supposed to get the potions and all the supplies there in time?"
"I'll ride."
"Alone? Through the heavy snow and cold and fog?"
"I'm not as useless as you think."
"There are wolves in the forest, Merlin. And dangerous outlaws. They'll be hunting you and your Yule supplies. You'll never make it, you silly oaf."
"I'll be careful."
"You are, and remain, a terrible servant. But still, I don't want you to freeze to death in a snow drift while Ealdor suffers." Arthur put his quill down, gave the parchments in front of him a malevolent glance, and stood up. "I'll accompany you. I'll see to it that you get there alive and can deliver the potions on time."
"That's not possible!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I mean, you don't have time for that. You obviously need to finish all the greetings to the other kingdoms," Merlin indicated the parchments, "you can't just leave Camelot for many days right before Yule. What about the court feasts and the pageantry and your duty lighting the ceremonial log? What would your father say?"
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "You seem very keen to keep me at home, Merlin. Makes me wonder what you're really up to. Is the story about Ealdor even true?"
"Of course it is."
"You're not just planning on three days of wild carousing in the tavern with Gwaine?"
"I would never lie about my mum being in danger."
"Well then, what's the problem?"
Merlin squirmed. He regretted having asked Arthur to be allowed to leave. The way this was going he should rather have just gone off without a word, and thought up some excuse later. "You might catch the illness too, Arthur. Even if you are a dollophead, Camelot can't do without you," he hedged.
Arthur frowned. "If so, we'll have a potion from Gaius on hand for me. Come on, Merlin. Let's get dressed and get going. Two birds with one stone; you'll have proper protection, and I get away from writing these horribly dratted Yule greetings."
"But... but the king?"
"Leave my father to me. He'll be happy enough to let Morgana take over my ceremonial duties. I'll tell him I have to look into the rumour of some sinister sorcerers wreaking havoc on the border with Essetir."
Merlin felt himself going pale. His brain felt like mush. He had run out of objections.
"Why are you standing there petrified like a stupid stoat?" Arthur grinned.
Merlin bit his lip, resigning himself to the inevitable. He hadn't planned for it to happen this way, but it obviously would have to happen some day, and his mum's life was at risk. The whole village of Ealdor was at risk. Kilgharrah would be getting impatient. He could not squander more time.
"Very well. We'll go together," he said with a sigh. "On one condition."
Arthur shook his head. "Really, Merlin. Who do you think you are? I make the decisions and set the conditions here."
"Nevertheless, whatever happens and whatever you happen to see, I need you to promise that you won't make a fuss about it until we're back in Camelot again."
Arthur raised an eyebrow speculatively. "Am I about to witness something illegal? Are there more people than Will in Camelot who practice magic? What is this all about?"
"Please, just promise me. Time is running out."
Arthur shrugged. "Oh well. I promise. No fuss until we return here. But then all bets are off."
Merlin nodded. "You'll have to dress warmly. And then, let's go!"
* * * * *
Kilgharrah was not pleased. He reared up, spreading his wings wide in a huff, smoke spouting from his nostrils. "Why have you brought your Pendragon princeling here? This was not at all what we agreed, young warlock."
Arthur stood as if rooted to the ground. His face had turned lethally pale, and his eyes darted from the Great Dragon to Merlin and back again. He clearly was trying to speak, but only managed to emit a pitiable croak.
Merlin patted Arthur's shoulder reassuringly and faced the dragon with a look of command. "He's coming with us, that's all there is to that. All the supplies and the potions are in the net in front of you. Carry that in your claws, please. Arthur and I will ride on your back. Now, let's go."
Kilgharrah's small yellow eyes glistened with ire. "One day there'll be a price to pay for this trickery," he grumbled, but made no further objections.
Merlin gently nudged Arthur. "We'll have to move. Can you climb his back? I promise it is completely safe. I'll be sitting in front. Hold on to me."
Arthur shook his head, not as much objecting to Merlin's words as in denial of what his eyes were showing him. "That's... that's the dragon, the dragon I killed, isn't it?"
"He may not have been quite dead," Merlin admitted.
Kilgharrah harrumped loudly. "A puny Pendragon, killing me without the use of strong magic? Ridiculous!"
Finally, Arthur managed to make his limbs move. No one had ever been able to call the prince's courage into question, and Merlin was filled with admiration as he watched Arthur approaching the dragon and slowly clambering up his flank, laboriously settling himself astride Kilgharrah's upper back between two of the bony spikes along his spine. Arthur's face was frozen in rigid determination. He glanced down at Merlin, still on the ground, and stated ominously; "There will be a reckoning."
"I know," Merlin replied, rapidly ascending the dragon's bulk to place himself right in front of Arthur. "Hold on to me. Kilgharrah, we're ready to go."
Spreading his huge leathery wings wide, Kilgharrah leapt into the air. The vigorous flapping as he ascended sounded like thunder, and every beat of his wings sent a gust of wind into his two passengers' faces.
It wasn't often that Merlin had ridden the Great Dragon, but every time it happened, he felt the same burst of immense exhilaration. "Woo-hoo!" he hollered, throwing his arms wide and feeling his heart soar even as the three of them gained altitude.
Arthur clearly was not as excited. He maintained a death grip around Merlin's waist and his breath against Merlin's neck came in short agitated gulps. Always an accomplished horseman, though, Arthur maintained a firm seat even as Kilgharrah twisted in the air and turned to fly eastwards.
Slowly, Arthur relaxed his desperate grip, and his breathing quieted. "I think I'm dreaming," he eventually muttered.
Merlin grinned.
An early winter dusk was settling across the land, but the rays of the pale winter sun still illuminated the landscape beneath them, colouring it the palest of pinks. They passed frozen fields and lakes, glistening white or tinted every shade of deep blue where trees or hills barred the sunlight. They flew high above wide expanses of snow-covered forests. Now and then the dragon scared up small herds of deer, fear giving their feet wings as they fled through the deep snow.
They could also see the occasional village, nestled in sheltered valleys and at the edge of woodland copses. The thatched roofs were covered by snow, but there were dark paths trodden between the houses, and thin trails of smoke rose into the chilly evening air from the evening fires lighted on the hearths. Even though both Arthur and Merlin felt icy cold by now, their noses virtual icicles, they could still smell the comforting woodsmoke.
"What an unbelievable adventure," Arthur breathed into Merlin's frost-bitten ear. "I never dreamt of seeing Camelot from above like this, seeing just how beautiful our land is. She truly is worth fighting for."
Merlin opened his mouth to reply, his breath creating a puff of white. No words would come - his teeth were chattering too much. Even though they had planned for warm clothes, Merlin as usual was completely underdressed for the icy conditions, and he felt frozen solid by now. Since he was sitting in front, the frosty blast of their forward momentum affected him the most.
By now, darkness had fallen, and they could no longer see the ground.
A vast panoply of stars had emerged in the sky. Moving through the air, the dragon's large wings beating time, suspended in darkness, a million small cold lights twinkling above, their journey was nothing short of a fairy-tale experience.
Merlin trusted Kilgharrah enough to know the dragon would be able to navigate by the stars and find his way in the dark. But he also realized that they needed to arrive in Ealdor very soon, or risk severe hypothermia. Somehow he managed to make his tongue and frozen lips work enough for him to yell; "We're freezing to death up here! Are we soon there?"
"We have arrived," Kilgharrah rumbled irritatedly in reply. "I'm descending. Don't you see the lights?"
Straining his eyes, Merlin did indeed glimpse a few small lights through the murk. Ealdor was a tiny and poor village. People did not needlessly use candles or lanterns, and the home fires were few.
Moments later, Kilgharrah's vast bulk hit the ground with a loud thump, jarring the frozen bones of his two passengers. Arthur was the first to slide down the dragon's flank, landing in the snow and rolling to the side. Merlin couldn't rightly manage to follow suit. He was shivering uncontrollably.
"Merlin!" Arthur called. "Are you able to move?"
Merlin's teeth continued to chatter. "It's so hot here," he said, tugging at his neckerchief with shaking fingers. "Too hot!"
In one smooth move, Kilgharrah turned his head, bit down on the neck of Merlin's coat, lifted him into the air and placed him gently on the ground in front of Arthur. "Take him, princeling, and find help. He is dying from the cold. I will wait here."
Arthur didn't waste time replying. Lifting Merlin into his arms, he stumbled through the snow towards the village as fast as his stiff unwilling legs would carry the two of them. Luckily, he remembered which cottage was Hunith's. He was relieved to see light through the small window and smoke from the pipe.
Merlin muttered something unintelligible and twisted in Arthur's arms.
Holding Merlin tight against his chest, Arthur hammered on the door. "Open up! It's Arthur Pendragon. I've got Merlin here, and he's ill!"
He could hear hurried steps inside, and then the door was ripped open. Hunith took in the sight of the two of them, immediately motioning Arthur inside. "Come in, come in, place him on the pallet by the fire. I'll collect blankets and my herbs," she said. "What has happened to him?"
Arthur was relieved to feel the warmth of the fire, and glad enough to be able to
lay Merlin down. "We're here with medicine for the village," he said, watching Hunith quickly and efficiently lighting several candles and an oil lamp, putting more logs on the fire, and taking Merlin's by now unresponsive hands in hers. Worry was etched into her features as she studied her son's face intently.
"The Great Dragon brought us here. Merlin almost froze to death," Arthur explained.
Hunith looked amazed. "Kilgharrah took you here? I didn't think you knew... never mind. We urgently need to warm Merlin up. Are you well enough to help him?"
"Of course," Arthur said with fake confidence, hoping she couldn't see the shivers wracking his body.
Hunith looked at him for a moment, as if holding an inner debate, then nodded. "Please get him out of his clothes and wrap him in these blankets. I'll find bricks to heat and brew him a hot herbal drink." She turned away and started rummaging in a small chest.
Arthur for his part made quick work of divesting Merlin of his icy clothes, noticing as if for the first time how thin his manservant was, how long and delicate his limbs, and how pale-blue the tint of his skin.
Carefully, he wrapped Merlin in one woolen blanket after the other, rubbing his feet and his cold hands on Hunith's instruction.
Meanwhile, Hunith placed a number of fire-heated bricks all along Merlin's body. She sat down next to her son, for the first time openly showing her distress as she stroked his hand and leaned forward to kiss his brow.
"Oh," she whispered, and dashed a tear from her cheek as Merlin's eyelids fluttered and he coughed a few times. "You silly boy, will you never stop making me fear for your life?"
She lifted her son up into a reclining position. Holding him close, she carefully brought a cup of a mulled herbal potion to his lips.
After a moment of inhaling the heat from the cup, Merlin took a sip and sighed. His face had regained a more natural hue.
Arthur sat back against the wall next to mother and son, completely knackered. The fear for Merlin's life and the hectic activity to save him had kept his own exhaustion at bay, but now he felt the full force of it.
He ought to think about Merlin's treachery in keeping the truth about the dragon hidden. He ought to think about Merlin being a warlock, which meant he had magic. He ought to be furious and to feel completely betrayed. But all he could feel was a deep relief and gratitude that Merlin was alive and would recover. What would he ever do without Merlin by his side?
Shaking his head to keep himself awake, he turned to Hunith. "The dragon is right outside the village. He's got medicines for those who suffer from the sweating sickness and some things to help Ealdor celebrate Yule. He's waiting."
Merlin had drunk the entire potion. Hunith eased him back down, placed a folded blanket under his head, checked his pulse, and stood up. She looked at Arthur. "I see that you too are completely worn out," she said. "Is it too much for me to ask you to look after Merlin, to continue keeping him warm? I can ask the widow Simmons if she'll come over if you'd rather-"
"No need for that," Arthur replied, righting his back and raking a hand through his hair in an attempt to appear alert. "I will look after Merlin. He'll be safe with me."
Hunith considered his words for a moment, then nodded and leaned in to stroke Merlin's brow. "Thank you, Prince Arthur. I'll go see about the distribution of medicine and food. And I do have a word or two to say to that thoughtlessly moronic dragon!"
Wrapping herself in a green woolen shawl, she stepped out into the night and closed the door behind her.
Arthur was alone with Merlin. Reaching under the blankets, his hand gently slid across bare skin to check Merlin's body temperature. The fire, the hot drink, and the heated bricks had combined to work wonders. Merlin would live.
Merlin's eyelashes fluttered. "Arthur," he whispered.
"I'm here, my dear silly dolt," Arthur said. "We made it to Ealdor, and all will be well."
A ghost of a smile touched Merlin's full lips, and he moved his fingers, beckoning Arthur closer. "You must be cold too. Let's share these blankets, we'll keep warmer that way."
Arthur barely hesitated before following through on this suggestion. He knew it made sense. Inching closer to Merlin, he pulled the blankets across the two of them, tucking them properly in. Their thawing bodies now rested comfortably in a joint warm cocoon.
"You need to rest," Arthur yawned.
"So do you," Merlin mumbled. "I thought you'd be furious."
"Merlin, you risked your life to bring others life-saving medicine. Why would I be angry? That was heroic."
"But you talked about a reckoning.... about the dragon, and... there's the magic-"
"Hush. Don't worry. I know more about you now than I did yesterday, true, but I also know more about me. I know now that I can't live without you. So be at ease. We'll work this out."
Turning slightly to the side, Merlin faced Arthur, and saw only understanding and affection in his eyes, which reflected the bright flames on the hearth.
"You may be my destiny after all," Merlin whispered as his eyes fell shut.
Arthur yawned again. "Let's leave the really big words for another day. You must sleep, and so must I."
When Hunith finally came back to her cottage later in the night, that's how she found them; sleeping soundly, two peas in a pod, two sides of the same coin, snug and warm, alive and well, as close as one.
* * * * *
Yule proved a happy and bountiful occasion in Ealdor that year.
With Gaius' potions to aid them, those who'd been severely ill recuperated in time for the feasting. There was a blazing fire on every hearth, beautiful garlands of holly and ivy on every door, lots of snowmen and even a big snow dragon in the village square, and more than enough good food and rich sweetmeats to go round.
Song and laughter reverberated through the village during the few hours of daylight and long into the night.
The main attraction was the Great Dragon, who dutifully helped cook the villagers' Yule roasts and grilled whole piglets with fiery blasts from his maws. Kilgharrah also entertained everyone with shows of his flying prowess, racing through the air above, doing flips, dives, and somersaults. Best of all, he heated the village pool with his fire. Everyone could swim and bask in gloriously warm water, although the air was frigid and the landscape covered in snow. The children of Ealdor had never seen something so amazing or had so much fun.
Merlin was surprised by Kilgharrah's sudden meek benevolence, but his questions were quelled by a withering glare from the dragon. "Your lady mother drives a hard bargain," was all the explanation Kilgharrah would ever give. Merlin left it at that.
Having regained his energy and strength, Merlin spent a happy and enjoyable Yule by Arthur's side. Now that there were no more secrets, they could talk openly about their past, present, and future, and they grew closer by the hour, to Hunith's quiet delight.
During these few magical days in Ealdor, Hunith's cottage was filled with light and warmth, good food and happiness, and the trusting relationship between Merlin and Arthur grew stronger and firmer and turned into love right in front of her eyes. What proud and fond mother could ever ask for more?
* * * THE END* * *