THE ESCAPATES OF KING ARTHUR AND DRAGOON THE GREAT

Arthur wakes with his teeth clattering, and a whole body shiver. What in the hell? He tries moving his arm and is startled by the clanking of chains, which is bloody fantastic. He can't see anything, and only has about an inch of freedom to move any of his limbs.

The sound of footsteps numbs him from the cold, he looks up to find a torch and an unforgettable silhouette striding towards him. Morgana.

"Good." She says as she lights another torch and places the first one in a holder, "you're awake."

Arthur doesn't answer and she takes her place in a chair a few feet away from where he's chained. Staring at him thoughtfully, she adds, "don't worry brother, you're not going to die . . . at least not yet."

Arthur narrows his eyes at her, he suddenly can't remember a time when Morgana didn't look like an evil bitch.

"I'm sorry about the inconvenience, really," she continues and Arthur doesn't believe her for a second, "but you are a necessary part of my plan."

"Oh . . . so the plan isn't to kill me this time, how delightful." Arthur snorts, breaking his silence.

"No, dear brother," she smiles wickedly now, "this is not about our quarrel . . . this is much bigger than that."

"Tell me, Morgana. Does your plan involve taking over Camelot?" Arthur asks. Glaring at her, he points out, "because if so, you better kill me now . . . you know I will never let that happen."

She laughs devilishly and spits, "like you have ever stopped me!"

"Ah, I think I did? Do you not recall the last times?" Arthur points out, smile creeping on his face.

Despite his efforts, she continues to laugh, "Arthur, dear brother, it was not you. It was Emrys."

They sit in silence for a few minutes while Morgana just smirks over at him, creepily. Giving in, Arthur finally asks, "Are you going to explain?"

"There is a sorcerer," she starts, leaning further back into her chair, "he goes by the name Emrys, and he is on the side of Camelot."

Arthur snorts, because really Morgana? A sorcerer helping Camelot might just be the most absurd thing he's ever heard.

"You laugh, but it is the truth, a sorcerer has been keeping you alive all this time."

"That's impossible, I would know." Arthur argues, because he would bloody know. Right?

"Believe me or not, either way you will see."

"How?"

"He will come to rescue you, like he always does . . . and I will kill him, finally."

Arthur feels like he's been at this for hours, but he refuses to go back to sleep until Morgana stops staring at him. Just as he feels his heavy lids falling shut for a fourth time, footsteps from the hall where Morgana came from bring him back to focus, instantly. Morgana springs up and steps in front of Arthur, blocking his view.

"Morgana," he hears the low growl of a familiar voice, but Arthur can't quite put his finger on who's exactly, "you will step away from him, and I will leave you with your life."

"I am not scared of you anymore, Emrys." Is the only reply Morgana gives, and Arthur really wishes he could see more than just Morgana's nasty backside.

"Very well, what about Aithusa? Do you care if she lives or dies?" The voice bargains.

"Who?" Morgana asks.

The raspy voice lets out laughter, "of course you wouldn't even know her name!"

"Who!" Morgana screams this time, clinching her fist right next to Arthur's face.

The voice replies by growling out in another language that Arthur can't understand. From around Morgana's form Arthur sees wings of white skin fly into view.

"No!" Morgana shrieks as she takes a step closer, letting Arthur see that the voice is coming from the sorcerer Dragoon. How he could forget that dreadful noise of a voice is beyond Arthur.

"Go, get out of here!" she yells at the dragon, shooing her away.

The dragon stays by Dragoon's side, "Aithusa will not disobey me, Morgana. I am the one who summoned her into this world, not you."

"You wouldn't dare kill her!"

"Arthur is of far more importance to me than her, you know this."

"But why!" Morgana screams, "Why do you choose him over your own kin? When he would see you burned!"

"That is none of your business, now step aside Morgana," Dragoon requests, stepping closer.

She laughs, really starts laughing, not evil and forced like before, "you . . . you are in love with him."

"What! No!" Dragoon protests, face crinkling in disgust.

"A dragonlord just does not threaten kill the last dragon out of mere prophecy!" She argues.

"Arthur is more important—"

"To you," Morgana cuts in, "that is pathetic, an old man in love with the King . . . doing all Arthur's dirty work, keeping the King pretty."

He's vaguely aware that he's just woken up on the forest floor, although Arthur can't bring himself to care at the moment. His back feels wonderful for once since last year and he feels better rested than when he wakes up in his own bed. Only then his thoughts come rushing forward . . .

Morgana.

Dragoon.

Caves.

Girl dragons.

Magic.

Lots and lots of magic.

Startling up, Arthur surveys his situation- he sees what seems to be a completely harmless non-magical fire and a lot of non-magical trees. Thank Gods.

Then he hears the sound of a cracking back and turns to find, none other than, Dragoon the Great's mangy scrawny frame stretching out behind him. Arthur jumps up and reaches for his sword, placing the tip as close as possible to the sorcerer's throat.

"Come on now, boy. That is no way to treat those who have just saved your life," Dragoon spits. Glaring down at Arthur's blade he adds, "Though I wouldn't expect much less from you, you spoiled fool."

"Spoiled fool?" Arthur questions and raises his blade a bit higher, "saved my life?"

"What? You don't remember?" Dragoon asks with a raised brow.

"I . . . I remember Morgana and a cave and you . . ." A smile instantly breaks out across Arthur's face, "you're in love with me?"

"Oh do shut up!" Dragoon growls, "That dirty witch doesn't have a clue to why I do the things that I do!"

"Seemed a pretty convincing argument to me," Arthur smirks, as he drops his sword. "I guess I don't have to worry about you trying to kill me."

They make it through the northern border without talking to each other. It isn't until Dragoon suddenly falls down and braces himself on a tree, does Arthur speak up, "what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, sire." Dragoon's breathlessness and respect surprise Arthur, "I just . . . this aging spell wares me out, it uses my magic constantly."

"Aging spell?" Arthur questions as he moves to help Dragoon back up.

Once the sorcerer is standing again, he answers, "well of course! I can't very well have the King of Camelot and Lady Morgana knowing my real identity could I? I'd be dead in less than a day!"

"But you . . . you've always looked like that, even when I first—wait—is your name really Emrys or Dragoon?"

Dragoon—Emrys—whatever, laughs and then sighs out with breathlessness, "Neither. Emrys is what that Druids call me and I just made Dragoon up on the spot because I couldn't think of anything else to say."

"What shall I call you then?" Arthur asks.

"You . . . you may call me whatever you wish."

"Very well, how about . . . Emrys . . . I like that better."

"As you wish, my lord."

"Why did you try and cast a love spell on me?" Arthur questions, suddenly very confused on that whole situation.

"You are very stupid." Is as far as Emrys elaborates.

"That's not a reason," Arthur quickly points out, gritting his teeth. He really should run the sorcerer through for addressing him like that, but something about him makes Arthur resist. And it's definitely NOT because he's scared of him.

"You remember how Morgana said I always do what's best for Camelot?"

Arthur nods.

"I faked putting that spell bag there so the Lady Gwen wouldn't take the blame," Emrys makes known, like it's the simplest thing ever.

"What!" Arthur questions loudly, "So she did put a love spell on me, and then betrayed me!"

"Morgana did it," the sorcerer hurries to explain, "but there was no way for me to prove her guilty, but I couldn't let Gwen die . . . she has a good heart . . . and was always meant to be your Queen."

"Not anymore," Arthur declares.

"She will be," Emrys protests, "it is only you that keeps her away."

"Because she betrayed me!" Arthur argues, earning a sour face from the sorcerer.

"She loves you."

"I will never feel the same about her as I did."

The sorcerer sighs, almost as if he knows exactly what Arthur means, like he feels sorry for Arthur. After walking a distance more, he finally grants, "Feelings have little to do with destiny, Arthur. If she is meant to be your Queen, she will be."

"I wish . . ." Arthur trails off, remembering who he's talking to. Here he is, King of Camelot, about to share his deepest secrets with a known sorcerer. It's just the way Emrys answers him, Arthur wants to relay all his problems and let the other man judge him.

"What?" Emrys asks.

Arthur falters before revealing, "I wish I didn't have to have a Queen."

"You need somebody who's just there, no matter what," he protests, then sounding even wiser Emrys adds, "not just for the Kingdom but for yourself."

"I already have someone," Arthur growls. I am definitely not pouting to a sorcerer now, he thinks before adding, "he is perfectly capable."

Dragoon arches a brow that reminds Arthur to much of Gaius for his liking.

"Not like that!" Arthur assures, suddenly realizing the sorcerer is implying much dirtier things than just needing a wife for good words of encouragement. Trying to explain he starts, "he just . . . you know . . ."

"No, I really don't . . . do tell," Emrys snaps.

Arthur complies, suddenly thrown off by Emrys' harsh tone, "his name is Merlin, and . . . perhaps you know him?"

Suddenly Emrys is relaxing again and nodding, "I know of the boy."

"Well he just . . ." Arthur trails off. "You better not repeat a word of this to anyone. I know you know Gaius, don't repeat this, even to him."

The sorcerer gives him a look that Arthur interrupts as 'don't be an idiot, who in the hell would I tell, and do you not remember me being sentenced to death in Camelot?'

"I am confident that he will be enough of a friend to me, always be honest enough with me, and never leave me. Isn't that what is needed of a Queen? As long as I have him, I don't need one."

A few moments later, Emrys softly asks, like he doesn't want to point out Arthur's flaw of logic, but has to anyway, "What about an heir?"

"Well maybe if I ever decide to lift the ban on magic, you could turn him into a girl!" Arthur jokes.

To Arthur's surprise, Emrys glares. Crazy sorcerers, you'd think he'd be happy about Arthur even considering the possibility.

"Oh yes, let's just turn your manservant into a girl, Arthur. Nice one, real thoughtful. Gods, I heard you treated your servant's terribly but really . . . a girl?"

To Arthur's surprise Emrys walks him all the way to the outskirts of the Kingdom and even asks, "are you sure you don't want me to walk further?"

"I am capable of taking care of myself," Arthur points out, "just because you maybe sneak around my back sometimes and do who knows what, doesn't mean I can't walk through a couple of leagues of forest."

"Very well, my lord." Emrys says with a bow, then smirking he adds, "be careful, I'm sure your love would not wish you to be harmed."

"I already told you, Gwen isn't going to happen. Destiny or not!" Arthur loudly points out as the sorcerer strides away.

Without stopping to look back, Emrys adds, "I was talking about the serving boy."