Part III:
And Aithusa Makes It Happen

Humans are very odd creatures.

Aithusa decides this during an early stage in his life, more precisely on the way to Camelot three days after emerging from his egg.

Before hatching, he's grown up to voices, humming from ages away, quietly making their way through the shell of his egg, blanketing him in security. Through the old voices of his forefathers, he's learned many a thing. Of the turning of the world and changing of the seasons and the colour of the sky, before he'd gotten a taste of what colour really is. However, he's not heard much about humans.

First off, they're very different from one another, some tall and bulky, others short and muscled. They have different colourings and strange growth on their heads (and sometimes on their faces), some dark brown, others different shades of yellow. They also must be very prone to cold since they wear diverse kinds of things on their bodies, red and brown and blue and other various combinations, which isn't skin, keeping themselves hidden all of the time. And out of this group, all but one prefers metal – maybe it's some kind of marking of their status? Maybe they're alphas? But that makes little sense, four alphas in a group of five! Aithusa's got to straighten that out, later.

And then there's the tall, pale lanky human, whom Aithusa likes most. He can feel the power beneath the young human's hands as he's picked up and held against a solid, warm chest: it's quite ridiculous, being cradled like that, because Aithusa is nowhere near as fragile as most other newborns. He can almost breathe fire and nearly fly and already do magic, after all! He's a dragon!

But he consents it. It is rather nice, and he feels safe and happy in the Warlock's presence. Aithusa acknowledges him as his Dragonlord by nuzzling his neck and his Dragonlord smiles and pets him as if the dragonling was his own hatchling, and in a sense, Aithusa is.

There's this other human, who also stands out from the rest: there's a hum of magic in him as well, not as strong or as noticeable, and Aithusa wonders if the human even knows it's there.

Anyway, this other human – with golden hair and a firm, warm tone as he speaks (clearly an alpha) – doesn't seem to like when Aithusa crawls to settle in his Dragonlord's lap in front of the campfire in the evening; the man looks at the dragonling with fire in his eyes. But he doesn't verbally scold the baby dragon for being there or approach the matter directly, just generally looks displeased at the Dragonlord's behaviour, especially when the Dragonlord's eyes shine as he strokes the dragonling's back. Aithusa thinks the golden human is acting pretty silly. If he wants to lie in the Dragonlord's lap instead of Aithusa, he should just say so and make his claim (or share): instead he wanders off sulking.

It's probably a human trait.

()()()

The first day after hatching, Aithusa drinks the sounds and sights and smells: the forest they wander through, the open fields, the river they pause beside to have a drink; the odd group of humans and himself. He stretches his wings but they cannot bear his weight yet, which is disappointing. How many days will it take until he's grown big and strong like the Great Dragon which his Dragonlord has mentioned? Not too long, hopefully. He really, really wants to fly.

The second day, he focuses on the noises the humans make, to make sense of them. The language of humans is very difficult, all jumbled together and garbled at the edges, whereas Dragon tongue is perfectly clear and understandable.

His Dragonlord often speaks to him in the more pleasant Dragon tongue, petting his head and offering him strips of meat. It makes Aithusa very happy when his Dragonlord cares for him. This way he learns a lot more about humans, and that his Dragonlord's name is Merlin, and that Merlin would prefer being called Merlin instead of Dragonlord. Aithusa also learns that his Dragonlord has lots of other names as well – some are pleasant on his tongue, like they fit there (Emrys) and others not – and he wonders if all humans have many names or if only the special ones have.

Unfortunately, the rest of the humans don't understand Dragon tongue at all and just chuckle (that odd sound at the back of the throat) and shake their heads at the pair, and the golden one scowls a lot again when seeing how much time Merlin spends speaking to the dragonling. The man stalks off into the woods muttering in a dark voice. Aithusa thinks him to be both amusing and annoying and very silly indeed.

Talking is what ties the group together, at day as they ride through the forest and at night as they huddle together in front of the fire. Especially the one with longer brown hair (which he flicks in a certain motion on a regular basis) likes doing it. Whatever he's saying must be amusing, since the other knights laughs a lot. A couple of them are more serious and quiet. Aithusa senses they're a bit worried, perhaps about their soon arrival in Camelot.

Merlin has explained about them going back to the city, where they're going to raise Aithusa till he's a strong full grown dragon – and, Merlin assured him, if the King is too much of a prat to agree to the raising-part, Merlin will take it upon himself. Aithusa is glad. And he's finally learned that the golden human, who also is King of Camelot, is named Arthur.

It all makes a lot more sense now.

But the humans don't see it, obviously, if their behaviour is anything to go by. The prophecy cannot be fulfilled, not properly at least, if they keep going like this: Arthur pouting in the background and Merlin petting Aithusa's head, at a distance calling the King a prat (even if the King is one, but that's beside the point) and avoiding each other like this.

()()()

When Aithusa decides that he's had enough of having Merlin cuddling him into obliviousness and Arthur going about glaring and sulking and on edge, the dragonling sneaks off his Dragonlord's lap and nudges the King's calf: the King is lying on his back near the dying embers of the fire, eyes closed. Aithusa wishes he could talk Human tongue. It'd make this a whole lot easier.

The King doesn't get it, of course. He just briskly orders the dragon to go to sleep (or just go away and leave him alone) and turns over on his side, wrapped tightly in a blanket. Aithusa claws at the blanket trying to pull it off the human and wake him; he's swatted away, but there's no further reaction.

Merlin is tending to the fire, oblivious, poking it with a stick. "What are you doing, Aithusa?" he asks, glancing at the dragonling. "Stop doing that, Arthur is a complete dollophead in the mornings if he's not had any sleep. Come here. It's past bed time for you." He pats the blanket arranged for the baby dragon (nevermind that the magic fire in Aithusa's belly keeps him warm anyway).

Aithusa frowns at the golden human's back. This is going to be more of an obstacle than he originally thought.

()()()

Camelot is very big and white and loud. And it's got lots and lots of humans of all sizes and kinds and colours. Some are dark and tanned by the sun; others are small and gray and wrinkled. The littlest ones like patting Aithusa's back and wings as they walk through the city but it's tiresome after a while, and the dragonling sneaks into his Dragonlord's pack for shelter, where he conveniently also finds some apples and a piece of meat that vanish quickly thereafter.

The first few weeks pass by in a hurry. Aithusa gets to learn some other nice people, apart from the Knights – he especially likes Gwaine, now when he understands enough of Human tongue to get the jokes – such as the handmaid Gwen and the old physician Gaius. Now, Aithusa cannot really understand what the physician does, really, but it's quite interesting to watch all those bubbly potions in the cauldrons. Maybe it's some kind of human food. They do all kind of things with it before eating, chopping it and mixing it and seemingly unable to enjoy a fine simple piece of meat without first putting it over a fire; they're all very picky – so it seems logical.

Everything is going well, on all fronts save for one (he can eat and sleep and learn as much as he wants, and he's even begun breathing fire, but his flying skills could improve): Aithusa has kept a close eye on the King and his Dragonlord, and seen no changes whatsoever from his first day after hatchling: It's all very strange. It's obvious they're made for each other! The prophecy makes it all clear, and they fit nicely together side by side, and Aithusa can feel their magic being drawn to one another like no other. They should have mated months ago. But they haven't made indications they're about to, even.

So, the dragonling does his best patiently dropping hints everywhere he can. It's tricky with the King. Arthur just blinks at him and pats his head awkwardly, before offering him lots of food if Aithusa still lingers on his desk atop all his paperwork. Silly human. No magicking doors locked when only the two of them are in the same room seem to work properly. (The Dragonlord just stutters something awkward and magicks the door open behind Arthur's back and flees; and when they meet up a few hours later the King is back to being a prat and they are far apart, heads turned in the other direction, faces constantly turning into various shades of red.)

Are all humans this difficult? That couldn't possibly be it! If this was the case, the humans wouldn't be so many and crowded all of the time.

With Merlin it is (slightly) easier, speaking the Dragon tongue. His Dragonlord grows red and hot in the face whenever Aithusa pointedly tells him he should mate with the King soon; it would make them all happier and help them fulfill the prophecy. At least Merlin understands Aithusa's point, but still make flimsy excuses, some of which the dragonling doesn't fully understand: something about status differences and Arthur not able to possibly be interested and a sudden need to polish armour/muck out stables (the latter is especially confusing).

()()()

Maybe they're not in heat? This could pose a real problem.

Aithusa seeks out Gaius' counsel, for since the man is old he must have knowledge of these things.

The human is bemused, for some reason Aithusa cannot fathom since this is Serious Business and all. It takes some persuasion to get him talking. No, the problem is not that, the physician explains, there are no cycles of heat to worry about here, there's no limit to that. No, the problem is the pair is both very stubborn, and not sure of the other's intentions and both completely oblivious to the other's attraction.

The dragonling decides to take things completely in his paws, and not act from the shadows and wait around. This whole thing is getting ridiculous, really.

As he's approached, Arthur looks mildly perplexed. "What is it now? I'm busy with paperwork," says the King and the dragonling frowns at him. He still can't speak Human tongue, though he understands it. "Are you hungry again? You had a steak merely two candle-marks ago!"

The dragonling makes a gesture with his tail toward the Warlock who is making the bed.

Arthur makes no sign of understanding.

Aithusa continues using his tail making gestures, as intimate as possible but Arthur still continues to look at him blankly. Finally, Aithusa projects a thought into the King's mind: Get a move on and mate with my Dragonlord already!

The King just stares at him mouth agape. No wonder his Dragonlord constantly complains about the man's praheadedness!

Annoyed now – maybe the human is slow – the dragonling tugs at the King's boot and, after some bewildering moments, the human finally seems to get it and stumbles in the Warlock's direction, suddenly a lot less certain and more shy than Aithusa has previously seen him. Probably another human trait.

At seeing their stillness, the dragonling grips the carpet and makes it disappear beneath the humans' feet, making them fall onto the bed, the King atop the Warlock. They stutter and grow red. They awkwardly tries to untangle from the sheets, however, fate wouldn't have it that way. If mating is this excruciating a process for all humans, it's a wonder there's so many of them!

It takes some time before either dares make a move, the awkwardness falling away and being replaced by eagerness, wanton, desire. The kiss is wet and eager and they make noises, some of which makes Aithusa slightly uncomfortable and when seeing them shed their clothing, the dragonling gives them privacy and rejoins Gaius in the physician's chamber.

He settles next to some cauldrons, where he proudly announces that the King and his Dragonlord finally have come around to mating.

The physician's expression is rather comical.

()()()

The following morning, Aithusa is pleased to find the King and his Dragonlord lying in the King's bed together, hands and legs entwined, sharing warm glances and loving smiles, and other such things that mates does. The King's arm is possessive around Merlin's waist, as it should be.

Arthur smiles at the dragonling for the first time and says, "He might not so bad, that thing, after all."

Aithusa chirrups approvingly. The King of Camelot might not be that much of a prat, after all.

()()()

Within the same month, there's a pretty ceremony with lots of flowers (especially white and blue ones cause Merlin likes them) and holding hands and Aithusa is amused with the human's frenzy of such a complicated ritual. Especially since they've already mated and everything. Well, if it makes them happy and keeps them together, Aithusa's happy.

When seeing sir Gwaine observing the pair exchanging vows with a smug grin on his face, Aithusa approaches.

"It's about bloody time."

Gwaine turns to look at the source of the unfamiliar voice and promptly chokes on his apple. The dragon looks at him amused and settles on the man's shoulder, surprisingly heavy.

The shock quickly turns into delight though. "You can talk!" the man exclaims, clapping his hands. "That's awesome!"

"Of course I can talk," Aithusa deadpans, rolling his eyes. "Human tongue might be jumbled and tricky but no way impossible to learn."

"This is great!" Gwaine says. "Another fellow shipper to talk to! We've got meetings Sundays and Wednesdays …

Aithusa hums thoughtfully, the sound deep in his throat. "So that's where the Old Physician was off to …"

And this is the bright beginning of a great friendship, but Merlin does not approve when Gwaine attempts to drag his baby dragon to the tavern. That's just one step too far. Naturally, Aithusa just thinks his Dragonlord is being silly. He could bet that Grandfather Kilgarrah has never told Merlin a thing about baby dragons, how they grow or about their favouring of mead - just some gibberish about moon and suns and coins.