Merlin turns the corner and sprints as fast as he can down the hall, letting the strange voice in his head coax him forward towards his destination.

"You're almost there young warlock. Just a bit further."

Merlin quickens his pace, rounding another corner before he stops at the top of the staircase. He looks down into the abyss, feeling an immense amount of ancient magic pouring forth from the darkness.

"Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you."

Merlin takes in a deep breath and grabs a torch off the wall. He clutches the sword tightly to his chest as he makes his way down the steps, wondering who is at the bottom.

He had heard the voice in his head when he was atop the battlements, worrying over what to do about the incoming skeletons. His magic couldn't hurt them and as far as he could tell neither did any sort of weapon. He was out of options and out of ideas. That was when the voice had whispered into his ear, telling him to head down to the lowest part of the castle with a sword. Normally, if a random voice started talking to him through his mind he would try and ignore it, but the promise the voice had made about having a way to defeat the skeletons had made him reconsider. He had heard the voice speaking to him before and it never seemed to want to cause him any harm, and if they wanted to help who was he to stop them? And that is how he ended up alone as he heads down to who knows where.

When he finally reaches the end of the staircase he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. Every sound sends all the nerves in his body leaping in fear as he continues down the small tunnel. He stiffens when he hears chains clinking nearby and he's almost ready to turn tail and run, but the thought of what the voice has promised makes him continue on.

As the tunnel opens up Merlin can't keep the awe from showing on his face. Stalactites hang from the ceiling of the cavern, seeming to threaten to pierce anyone who dares to walk under them. There's a large pit a few feet in front of him and he has to take a step back in fear of falling over the edge. In the centre of the cavern a large stone protrudes out of the abyss. There's nothing on the rock except a large chain that's bigger than him leading into the hole.

Merlin tries to peer over the edge, wondering where the chain leads to but only manages to see darkness. He looks around him, now questioning where the owner of the voice is. He doesn't see anyone.

Feeling disappointed and frustrated the warlock turns to leave. He's an idiot to think that a random voice could help him. Just as he's about to re-enter the tunnel wind starts to whip though his hair. He turns around in time to see a creature soar into the air from the darkness, circling once over the protruding rock before perching on the stone. As the creature settles its large wings Merlin simply stares in shock. A dragon. There's a dragon underneath the castle of Camelot.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, young warlock," the dragon says with a smirk.

"Um... a pleasure to meet you too? Who are you?" he asks, surprised that his voice came out at all.

The dragon chuckles at his response, amusement flashing in its ancient eyes as it regards him. "I am known as many things, boy. The Great Dragon, for example, but you may call me Kilgharrah."

"I'm Merlin," he says, about to extend a hand but remembering that the dragon didn't exactly have any, "Or Emrys, as some call me."

"I know who you are, young warlock. I have known for a long time as your rise has been foretold by many, but let us skip the formalities. There are much more pressing matters to discuss would you not agree?"

With the mention of the ongoing siege Merlin pushes the awe out of his mind. There will be time after the battle to speak with the dragon. Right now he needs to accomplish what he came down to the cavern for. "You said you know how to defeat those skeletons. So tell me how."

Kilgharrah smirks. "Indeed I do, but before I help you, you must agree to help me."

Merlin hesitates for a moment before nodding his head. "I promise that I will. Now please, tell me how to defeat those skeletons."

The dragon smirks, coiling down more comfortably on the rocks. "Very well. In order to defeat the skeletons you must destroy the source of its power. You must find the staff carved from the Rowan Tree that grows at the very centre of the Isle of the Blessed. Once you find this staff break it, and the spell will be lifted. Though I must warn you that the witch will not make this easy for you. She will be waiting,"

Merlin swallows thickly, getting nervous at the thought of Morgana and her cold eyes. If he had any other choice he would choose to never see her again, but what other option is there? If he doesn't go then Camelot will fall. With his decision made he looks back up to the dragon, a new question in his mind. "But what about Camelot? It'll be overrun while I try to find it."

Again, Kilgharrah chuckles. "You brought a sword like I asked for did you not?"

Merlin glances down to the bundle in his hand. He unwraps the weapon, showing the creature the sword he had brought.

"Excellent," the dragon says, leaning in closer, "now hold it up."

Merlin does as the Great Dragon says, holding the weapon out blade first in front of him. Kigharrah's eyes begin to glow an even brighter gold and suddenly, the sword floats out of his hand. It hovers over the abyss, a few feet in front of the dragon as the creature's eyes glow gold again. The time, Kilgharrah opens its mouth, breathing out a swirl of fire that is filled with powerful magic. The sword begins to glow as its enveloped by the flames, the weapon fusing with the ancient magic of the dragon.

As the last embers die away the sword seems to be an entirely different weapon. The hilt is trimmed with gold and there are words etched into the flat of the blade.

"Take me up, and cast me away," Merlin reads aloud as the sword hovers back towards him. He's about to grab the hilt when the sword is suddenly pulled away.

"A weapon forged in a dragon's breath can kill anything, whether it be dead or undead. It is the most powerful weapon man can wield and it should help your king defend Camelot as you search for the staff. But before I give you this blade you must promise me," the dragon says, the amusement now gone from its eyes, "that only Arthur will ever wield this blade."

Merlin nods. "I promise."

"And," Kilgharrah says, "when I give you this blade you must free me."

"Free you?" Merlin asks, tilting his head in question, "how?"

"Use this blade and cut the chain that keeps me here. With the help of your magic you will be able to finally free me from this cage."

Merlin takes a step forward, moving closer to the edge and with a nod of his head the sword floats back towards him, hovering close enough for him to grab the weapon. He turns the blade in his hand, surprised to find it well balanced and the hilt comfortable in his grip.

Stairs then appear beside him, spiralling down towards the pit before straightening into a path that leads towards the centre rock. He follows the steps down, hearing the clinking of the chains grow louder the closer he gets. When he reaches the chains he stands over them, surprised to find each link almost the length of his whole body. He looks up to the dragon, seeing the eager glow in its eyes as it waits.

Merlin takes in a deep breath and hoists up the sword. He chants a spell, letting his magic flow into the blade before bringing it down onto the metal links. With a loud crack the chains shatter, breaking apart under the sword as it slices clean through.

Kilgharrah lets out a mighty roar in happiness, stretching out its wings as though ready to take off. It leans down after its short celebration, a smile on its face as it regards the warlock. "Thank you, Merlin, for freeing me."

Merlin gives a smile back, "What will you do now?" he asks.

"I refuse to believe that I am the last of my kind. I will roam the lands in hopes of finding at least one more of my kin."

"Will you not help?" Merlin inquires, somewhat hopefully, "If there's a dragon helping I'm sure not even Morgana can-"

"This is all I can do to help you young warlock for this is your destiny. I have given you and your king the means to fight the witch, but it is up to you to use it."

Merlin looks down glumly. A dragon would have been beyond helpful. Though he's not sure how much Arthur would appreciate him bringing a dragon into Camelot.

"I must warn you though, Emrys," the dragon speaks again, making Merlin turn his attention back up to the Great Dragon, "that even though you are called Morgana's doom you are also called her destiny."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asks, growing uneasy at what the dragon may be implying.

"I mean that the future is not yet set in stone. If you are not careful, you may very well perish by the witch's hand."

Merlin stiffens, swallowing thickly. He can feel his hands start to tremble beside him at the bluntness of the dragon's words. Perish. Meaning he may die from Morgana. The thought sends a shudder down his spine. All his instincts tell him to run, that this isn't worth his life, but the memories of what Morgana has done to his home keeps him from cowering away. Not only has she destroyed Ealdor but she's in the process of taking Camelot now as well. There's no way he'll allow her to win. Not if he's able to stop her.

"I understand," Merlin says, voice firm with resolve. "But can I ask you for one last favour?"

-----

Arthur paces back and forth along the length of the courtyard, body tense like a bowstring as he weighs his options. At the moment there are only two choices, three if Merlin has a plan. One, he can surrender and hope for the best. Two, he can keep fighting until his last breath. Or three, Merlin comes back and the 'something' he was busy running off doing manages to help them. He's hoping for the latter option as that seems to be the only chance he has to save the kingdom. If not, than the second is the next best choice. There is no chance he'll surrender to Morgana.

A loud thud sounds against the wood of the courtyard gates and Arthur instinctively reaches for the handle of his sword. He notices many of his knights and guards dash up towards the door, readying their own weapons as the thudding grows in volume.

Arthur grits his teeth in anger as he unsheathes his sword. It seems option two it is.

The gates almost about to break down when he hears the flapping of wings above him. He looks up, eyes widening as he watches the dragon soar down from the sky, landing in the centre of the courtyard. He staggers back as the wind blows through the area. He holds his sword out to the beast as his mind begins to fill with new questions and worries. Where did a dragon come from? Is it Morgana's? How is he able to beat something like this when there are un-killable skeletons at his doorstep?

His knights have all turned their attention now on the creature in front of them. They slowly walk up behind their king, weapons brandished as they wait for orders. He's about ready to call an attack when a figure slips down from the dragon's back, a sword bundled in his arms. "Arthur!" Merlin calls out to him as he dashes towards the king.

Arthur sighs, ordering his men to stand down an return to the gate while the warlock stops in front of him. "Merlin!" he begins as Merlin tears the sword out of the king's grip and tosses it to a passing knight, "what are you doing?! Where did a dragon come from?!" he demands.

The warlock though doesn't reply to his question. Instead he holds out the sword he's been carrying around and hands it to the king. "Please, use this," he says, as though that would answer everything.

Arthur takes the weapon gingerly. His first thought as he grasps the handle is about how comfortable the grip is in his palm. He lifts up the blade, turning it over in his hand to find it sharpened and polished, the edges reflecting the dim moonlight. He swings it once, again surprised to find it perfectly balanced. He looks at the engravings on the blade, trying to read what it says but it seems to be written in a different language. "Where did you get this?" He asks as he spins the sword in his hand again.

"The dragon, but that's not important," Merlin stammers out as the thudding on the gates grow louder, "This should help you keep the skeletons at bay."

Arthur looks at the blade again, not seeing anything that might make the sword special. Perhaps Merlin had enchanted it? Or the dragon had done something? Regardless he's willing to put his trust in the warlock. He has no better option anyways. "Thank you," he says.

Merlin smiles and all of Arthur's troubles seem to melt away at the sight. He feels as though he'll be able to face anything so long as the warlock's with him. With a sly smirk, Arthur leans in, planting a quick kiss to Merlin's lips. His cocky grin grows even wider when he sees Merlin start to blush, the boy's head turning frantically as he hopes no one had seen. "Arthur!" he hisses at him in embarrassment.

The king chuckles, "It's for luck."

Merlin puts on a pout before turning to walk back towards the waiting dragon. He only makes it a few steps before Arthur reaches out to grab his wrist. "Where are you going now?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm going to stop the skeletons," he replies, pulling his arm free and mounting the dragon. 

Arthur follows after him, standing by the creature's stomach. "And how will you do that?"

After shifting comfortably into his spot on the dragon's back the warlock glances down to the king, "I need to find the staff Morgana used to cast the spell. If I break it, the skeleton's should fall soon after."

Arthur crosses his arms over his chest, the irritation clear in his eyes. "You're going to do this alone?"

"Not entirely. Kilgharrah will be taking me to the location." He says this while patting the dragon's hide, making Arthur assume it must be Kilgharrah.

"I am not letting you do this alone. I'm coming with you," he states, about to mount the dragon himself before Merlin shakes his head in disapproval.

"You need to stay here. Without you the kingdom will fall."

"But what if something happens to you? You could get hurt or even killed! You want me to wait here as you fly off to your death sentence?"

Merlin flashes a cheeky smile. "You're worried about me?"

Arthur narrows his eyes. "This isn't a game, Merlin. You know Morgana's going to be there waiting for you. She'll kill you."

Again, Merlin grins but the gesture seems to falter. "And according to destiny Emrys will defeat her."

"I don't care what destiny says about you defeating her. I won't stake your life on some words a sorcerer I met in the woods told me. Merlin, please. Don't do this." Arthur's practically begging now. Morgana has already taken so many of his loved ones from him. He's not going to let her take anyone else. Especially not Merlin. 

"Arthur... you trust me, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Arthur mutters the words quietly.

Merlin leaps down from his mount so they're standing face to face. The fake smiles are gone from the servant's expression. The humour and usual carefree attitude, gone. Instead, all Arthur can see is the seriousness in the warlock's eyes. There's no hesitation. No doubts about his decision. "Then trust me when I tell you that I will be fine. I promise."

Arthur tightens his hold on the hilt of his new sword. He wants to say no. Wants to force Merlin to stay here with him or have them both go together, but the sound of the doors bursting open and the shouts from his men makes him finally give in. "Go," he says, waving a hand towards the waiting creature.

Merlin smiles then leans in and plants a quick kiss on Arthur's lips. When he pulls back the seriousness from before is gone, the mask of playfulness having descended over his features once again. "It's for luck," he says, echoing Arthur's previous words with a smirk before climbing onto the dragon. 

With a few whispered words the creature soars into the air, sending soldiers spiralling backwards from the force of the wind generated from its wings. Arthur has to raise an arm over his face to shield himself from the dust as the dragon ascends higher and higher into the sky. Soon, all he can see is the beast's silhouette before it turns towards the forest and disappears into the night. 

Arthur lets out a breath, telling himself that Merlin will be fine. That the idiot can protect himself if the time comes. Besides, as Merlin had said, he has to defend his kingdom. 

With one last look up to the sky he turns his attention to the skeletons swarming through the gates. He spins his new weapon once in his hand, getting a feel for the blade before dashing towards the chaos.