Prologue:

In front of a crackling fire sat a woman, weaving a colorful tapestry as she hummed. The sparking embers kept the room bright, even as the moon rose high in the sky. It was full, and it shined brightly amongst the stars.

Humming the song her mother had once sang to her, the woman sat back, sighing wearily. Then she smiled, resting her hands on her large, pregnant belly. She could feel the baby's movements, and she knew her time was close.

Within the hour, her water broke.

Five grueling hours later, she was blessed with a son. She smiled down at him, with his dark thatch of hair and already bright blue eyes.

"Merlin," she named him.

And so Merlin grew from a small baby to a boy. He was a happy child, always smiling and laughing. His mother watched him with pride in her eyes. She knew he would eventually grow into a fine man.

One day, as Merlin went to play with the other boys from the village, his mother sat with a few of the other women. They talked and tittered about their sons and daughters.

"Mother!" Merlin called, smiling as he raced towards her.

She laughed as he embraced her by the waist.

And at that moment, they were approached by the village healer, an old crone whose fingers were gnarled and sight was nearly gone. She approached Merlin's mother, but reached for the young boy.

"Mmm," the crone murmured. "I see a great destiny. Filled with adventure and love, and magic."

Merlin laughed. "Magic?"

The crone hummed, but didn't answer. "You will journey across the land, to the great kingdom. There you will find what it is you seek, and more."

Merlin looked up at his mother, who stared at the older woman with an anxious expression.

The crone kept on muttering, even as she walked away. "Hair as red as fire. A throne for the one who desires. And a war for one, or the kingdom of Albion shall be none."

Merlin never forgot those odd words. Even as he grew from a boy to a young man, he would sometimes wake up with those words ringing in his ears.

Ooo0ooO

Iris could remember hearing a voice telling her stories when she was very little. The voice was deep and soothing, rocky like the ocean waves against the shores that she only traveled to once in her life.

"You have a great destiny that lies ahead of you, Iris. You are to meet the most powerful warlock and you are to be his guardian. In your eighteenth year, you will journey to the great kingdom of Camelot, and that is where you will meet the warlock Emrys."

Iris also remembered hearing her mother speaking in hushed tones to the one with the deep voice.

"How is she to protect this warlock? She has no magic!"

"She is a mere babe; her powers have yet to develop. In time, she will be a very powerful witch, her power only second to the warlock's. With my blessing, her powers will begin to grow as soon as she comes of age."

"You will bless her?"

A warm, electrical gust of air surrounded Iris and she began to cry as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

"Her…her hair is…"

"Yes, yes, those who are blessed with the breath of a dragon often experience changes in hair or eye color."

The last thing Iris could remember was opening her eyes to a flash of gold flying into the sky.

Ooo0ooO

Sixteen Years Later

Iris lived in an outlying village, nearing the border of Camelot and Odin's kingdom. She stayed in a small cottage with her mother and father. They told her she had an older brother but he had run off when he was young, when Iris was barely learning to walk. They never told her his name and for that, she did not know why.

Her mother had named her Iris after the flower that bloomed in the forest near their home. She told Iris it stood for faith, hope, and wisdom; which was one of the things Iris could remember her mother teaching her as she grew from a girl to a young woman.

The children in the village never played with Iris, so she stayed home with her mother to help her with chores. Her father was the town leader, who was revered for his own wisdom and kindness. Iris could still remember how he would smile down at her with his dark brown eyes and would call her his "precious flower".

On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, their village was raided by slave traders and bandits, who killed and kidnapped many of their neighbors. When they reached Iris's home, her father tried to protect her mother and Iris, but his bravery led to him being cut down in front of their house. They soon killed Iris's mother and dragged Iris away into the forest.

The vision of her mother and father lying bleeding amongst the iris and lily flowers would haunt Iris's memories for a very long time.

When the slave traders carted her and a few other girls from the village away, the bandits burned what was left of their home to the ground. The other girls were screaming and crying, coughing as the smoke invaded their lungs. Iris stood there in shock as she felt a great build up of rage and hurt rise within her.

The next thing Iris remembered was unleashing a loud cry, before a surge of power erupted from within her. The cages that held the girls exploded and everyone was thrown in the air, landing yards away. Iris stood there, panting, as she felt this electric, terrifying feeling hum along her skin. Iris looked down and saw a fragment of a mirror, which showed her reflection staring back at her, only the girl in the mirror had bright, copper colored eyes.

"Witch!" a bandit yelled. "Bind her!"

Iris's gaze whipped towards the men approaching her. Without thinking, she flung her hands forward and sent the men flying through the air again.

Too late, she saw a flash out of the corner of her eye before an arrow pierced through the air, slicing across her left cheek. Iris cried out and turned as another was fired, except this one embedded itself in her side. Iris collapsed to her knees, clenching her side, and gritting her teeth. Tears streamed down her dirty cheeks as she saw a man approaching her.

"Well, well, looks like we've got a witch on our hands," he said.

Iris looked up, her vision blurring, making him a dark outline.

"I wonder what Uther will want to do with you?" he amused.

Iris coughed up some blood and spat at his feet. "I will not go anywhere with the likes of you," she growled, trying to make her voice sound stronger than it was.

With one quick movement, Iris pulled the arrow from her side and struck him in the stomach. The man gasped and fell to the forest floor. Iris stood on shaky legs and looked around. The other men were still unconscious. She rushed over to the girls. There were four of them and she could not remember their names.

"Wake up! Wake up!" Iris urged them, shaking their shoulders. They stirred and immediately cried out in fear, bursting into tears.

"There's no time for this!" she snapped. "Go, run towards the other villages that are close by. Find shelter and tell them what happened."

"And what of you?" one girl asked.

Iris looked around and spotted one of the bandit's horses. An idea formed in her mind.

"Don't worry about me," she said impatiently, helping one of the other girls up.

"Where will you go?" another girl cried.

Iris stood and looked at them, a sense of knowing filling her veins.

"I'm certain I'll find my way," she stated confidently.

Ooo0ooO

Iris's journey led her into the White Mountains. She was not sure where she was heading; all she knew was that she was trying to find something.

Even though she was tired and her feet hurt, she carried on. The mountains were in bloom and the sun was warm and for that, she was grateful. Since the raid, Iris had nothing with her except a small blade and the clothes on her back.

Soon enough, she came across a small stream and stopped to drink some of the cool water. She stared down at the water and at her reflection.

Her hair was curly and wild, the color of flames. It fell in a tangled mess down past her shoulders, framing her dirt streaked face. She now had a scar from the arrow that cut her cheek, which she lifted a hand to. It served as a reminder of what happened and what she had lost. The injury to her side had healed over the few weeks she had traveled, but she knew there was a scar there too.

Her eyes, a bright blue green color, were set and determined, if not a little impatient. She stared at herself before dashing a hand across the water, distorting her image.

"Gods!" Iris cried out in frustration, burying her face in her hands. She was lost, hungry, and she had no idea where she was going. She was in desperate need of help.

"I don't think a celestial being is going to help you now, Iris," a deep voice said.

Iris looked up and gasped.

About ten yards away, in the shadows of the caves, laid a giant, golden dragon. Its bright eyes scrutinized her as its massive head tilted slightly to the side.

Startled, Iris jumped up and stared at the enormous beast. She felt adrenaline explode through her body but she was not afraid.

"I thought all the dragons were killed," Iris said in a clear voice, determined not to be intimidated by this creature.

"Yes, all but me," the dragon said in its deep, mystical voice. "I am Kilgharrah, the last of the dragons."

Iris studied him and she even dared to step closer. "Why are you hiding out here?" she asked.

The dragon blinked slowly. "Because I was imprisoned for a long, long time and do not wish to be again," Kilgharrah said.

Iris narrowed her eyes. "Imprisoned?" she repeated.

The dragon nodded. "Uther Pendragon kept me chained down in the caves below the great kingdom of Camelot, where I stayed for nearly twenty years before I was set free."

"Who set you free?"

The dragon's eyes became slightly bemused. "Did your mother not tell you what your destiny is?" the beast asked.

Iris's eyes widened. "My mother is dead," she said. "She and my father were killed by bandits weeks ago."

The dragon's expression didn't change and he didn't offer any condolences.

"How did you know her?" Iris demanded.

The dragon stood from its place in the cave and stepped towards her, towering over her with its immense height.

Iris stared up boldly into its eyes.

"I had known your mother for many years, before you were even born. There was a time when dragons were not feared, but that was before Uther Pendragon saw us as monsters that needed to be slaughtered mercilessly. When you were born, I found your mother to tell her the story of your destiny."

"It was you!" Iris exclaimed with surprise. "Your voice is the one I remember when I was little. You told me stories before I could even walk…"

The dragon nodded. "When you were born, I was still free. The last time I saw your mother and you was the last day I had my freedom. After, I was captured by Uther's men and moved into the caves."

"But why did my mother seek help from a dragon?"

The Great Dragon all but shrugged. "I cannot speak for your mother but I do know this- when you were born, she sought the help of a dragon because she knew you were different from the others, Iris," he said.

Iris narrowed her eyes again. "What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

The dragon lowered its great head so their eyes were at the same level. "You possess a great amount of magic, Iris," the dragon explained. "You are destined to be a powerful witch."

Iris began laughing, ignoring how the dragon's eyes narrowed slightly. "You must be mistaken," she said once she controlled herself. "I have no magic and I am certainly not a witch!"

"Your denial stands in the way of you truly seeing who you are and what you are capable of," the dragon said calmly. "But even you can't deny that you have used that magic in a time of need."

Iris's memories flashed back to the day of the raid, and how she flung the men away from her with a movement of her hands, how her eyes glowed a different color…

Iris stared up at the golden dragon. "How is this possible?" she demanded. "How did I not know of this?"

"You were born with magic, as was your mother-,"

"My mother had magic?" Iris interrupted.

The dragon gave her a look that silenced her tongue. "You were born with magic and when you came of age, the magic became known to you. It is your destiny to harness that magic and learn how to use it, as well as conceal it, before you continue your journey."

"My journey?" Iris repeated, finally sitting down on the grass.

The dragon mirrored her movement, tucking its legs under its massive body. "As I once told you when you were too young to understand, you have a great destiny in your future, Iris. Your destiny lies in Camelot, where you will meet a young warlock named Emrys."

"Emrys," Iris murmured, the name ringing a distant bell in her mind. "Why am I destined to meet this Emrys?"

"Because Emrys is meant to change the kingdom of Camelot forever, along with Prince Arthur. His destiny is to ensure that Arthur lives so they can create peace between the five kingdoms. Your destiny is simple, Iris," the dragon said.

"And what is that?"

"To go to Camelot and find Emrys. Find Emrys and protect him from the dark forces that wish to destroy him and his power."

Iris choked out another laugh. "My destiny is to protect him?" she asked incredulously.

"Emrys is and always will be the most powerful warlock these lands have ever seen. But even Emrys cannot fight on his own against those who wish to do him harm. There will be many challenges for you and for him but together, you will help Arthur and the kingdom of Camelot unite with the other kingdoms, creating the great land of Albion."

She rubbed a hand over her eyes. "Why me?" she asked in a softer tone.

"Even I cannot explain why the Fates chose you to be Emrys's protector. For now, all you can do is accept this as your destiny."

"I thought the future has many paths," Iris shot back.

The dragon's eyes gleamed. "That it does, young witch, but even some paths we cannot evade."

Iris took a deep breath and looked into the Great Dragon's eyes steadily. "What do I do now?"

The dragon looked pleased. "You must begin your journey to Camelot. Arthur's time to rule is almost upon him but not quite yet."

"Why?" Iris asked, slanting the dragon a curious look.

"It has been written since the beginning of time of your arrival to Camelot. You must find your way there, and there you will discover the answers you seek."

Iris scowled at the vague answer.

"How will I get into Camelot? I am from the outlying villages and I doubt Prince Arthur will welcome me into the palace with opened arms," she said, arching a brow.

"That, Iris, is up to you," Kilgharrah said. "Emrys will need you and your powers soon. You must be there to protect and support him for the dark times ahead."

"But how can I help if I have only just discovered my powers?" Iris challenged.

The dragon inclined its head. "As I said before, the answers you seek are in Camelot."

Iris glared at the dragon. "If I am to risk my life for this Emrys and the Pendragons, don't I deserve to know what I'm walking into?"

The dragon just blinked at her. "Some paths may be shrouded in mystery, Iris, but the way will soon be clear. And for now, the time for talking has passed. You must make way for Camelot. You will find there is more there than you expect."

"What do you mean?" Iris asked again.

The dragon didn't answer but moved so it began disappearing into the mouth of the cave.

"Wait! How am I supposed to get there?" she demanded.

The dragon's gold eyes gleamed from within the shadows. "You have magic, Iris. Learn to use it and go find the warlock."

Iris huffed and stood, turning her back on the great beast.

"And one last thing, Iris."

Iris turned to look at the dragon again.

"When you reach Camelot, know that the use of magic is outlawed and you must be cautious. The warlock Emrys goes by a different name there, since he is under the care of the court physician and is a servant to Prince Arthur."

Iris raised a brow at the beast. "And what would his name be?" she asked.

"Merlin," Kilgharrah answered. "He goes by the name Merlin."

Ooo0ooO

When Iris reached the foothills of the White Mountains, she came across a herd of wild horses. Iris eyed them from a distance, smiling a little to herself. They were all grazing on the tall grass, each a different color from the purest of whites to the deepest of blacks.

One horse stood out to her, which stood a little ways from the rest of the herd. It was a dappled gray color, with a long cream colored mane and tail. When the horse looked up, Iris saw a small white star on the end of its nose, which matched with the four white stockings on its legs. The large animal snorted and flicked its tail, before lowering its head again.

Iris remembered the dragon's words and an idea formed. She moved through the grass slowly, heading towards the horse cautiously.

When she got close, it lifted its head and eyed her warily. She focused her energy and looked into its large eyes.

"Come," Iris murmured, feeling an odd sensation spike through her. Her voice sounded different, like it was overlapping with someone else's. Then she realized she had spoken in a different tongue. Shaking her head, she focused her attention back on the horse.

The horse snorted and walked over to her. Her eyes widened as it stood in front of her. How did she know what to say? What did she say?

Iris reached up cautiously and stroked the horse's soft muzzle. It nickered and nuzzled the palm of her hand and she grinned. Carefully, she moved to its side and grabbed its long mane. When the horse made no sound of protest, Iris pulled herself onto its tall back. The creature shifted, as if adjusting to her weight, before blowing out a breath.

Iris stroked its neck, murmuring softly. "What should I call you?"

The horse's ears twitched, listening to the sound of her voice.

"Nimbus, I think," she decided. "Because you're like a cloud, aren't you?"

The young stallion turned its head to shake out its mane before pawing the ground a little.

Iris laughed, stroking his neck, nudged him with her bare feet and he broke into a trot.

Leaning down, Iris whispered into its ear, feeling her magic rise through her again.

"Onward," she murmured into the horse's ear. "To Camelot."

Nimbus tossed his head and began cantering into the trees, heading away from the mountains.

Leaning forward, Iris's hair whipped back like the horse's mane, a flash of red in the sunlight. As she traveled closer and closer to Camelot, a sense of knowing and power came over her, as if she knew this was the place she was supposed to go to. There was a need there, a need that was almost like a cry for help.

Galloping through the forests, Iris finally understood what the dragon had told her. If there was a need in Camelot, she was the answer for that need. This is what she was meant to do, who she was meant to be.

Ooo0ooO

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or its characters.

Author's Note: For the people who followed this story when it was published, it's going under some reconstruction. I missed this story and wanted to change it into my own, instead of it following the entirety of the show's plotline. There will be some similarities and references, but this story, in my mind, is now AU.

For the spells that will be used by Iris and Merlin, I'm going to have them written in English. The italicized words are ones translated from Old English.