Chapter 15: The Old Dragons

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The old wooden door to his small home had never been such a wonderful sight, Merlin thought as he halted his jerky walk. Gwaine was at his side, the man's hands firmly but gently on Merlin's shoulder and arm to help the old man, and Gwaine stopped with him, seeming to understand that the two long friends needed a moment to just take each other in. The men were just several steps from his house.

Susetthe leaned casually, her shoulder propped up on the hinged side of the door and her arms were crossed loosely over her chest. Her curls tumbled messily around her face, which was grinning proudly and happily. She didn't change her position much, only shifting so that she could face Merlin and her brother better, though her eyes were locked on the piercing sapphire ones she'd spent what felt like all of her childhood looking at. Even through the mass of white hair pooling around his face, she could see those eyes and cheeks crinkled as he smiled back at her.

The girl—young woman now, really—stood patiently as Merlin stepped up to his door and stopped again, inches from her. Gwaine stood slightly behind him, dark eyes squinted as he watched the scene intently.

"Merlin," her lips and grin curled around the word, her voice clear and sure and pleased.

"Susetthe," he mirrored. Her slightly mischievous, proud grin softened into a smile and she blinked slowly, basking in the moment.

When her pale eyes opened and his wrinkled, happy face was still filling her vision, her grin grew into a full, beaming smile. Merlin was sure it outshined the sun.

"I remember you, my friend," she said softly, voice thick with pride and relief. "I had to come see if you were still here."

Merlin stepped back slightly, turning not away from her but enough to show that he was addressing Gwaine as well. The man stepped forward. "I am glad you are here." Then, he eagerly ushered them inside, eager to see what he remembered about hosting people, and eager to speak to his friends again.

He knew that the memories the siblings were acting on were just of this lifetime, not of their original meeting, but Merlin didn't care. Instead, he chose to simply be overjoyed and wrap himself in the companionship.

********

Gwaine and Susetthe's old home was untouched, and the two barely cleaned it or moved in beyond being able to sleep and prepare quick breakfasts there. Any other time, and any other meal, was in Susetthe and Merlin's clearing, or beside the lake he revealed to them, or in Merlin's small home. The old man told them even more stories, amazing Susetthe—she could have sworn she would have heard every one he'd had. But what she didn't know, Merlin could now expand his history, and he told of the stories that had included Gwaine further. He was careful to hide or change the names, sadly, alluding to men as 'the knight' instead of their true names. He also spoke more of his magic, his stories often transitioning from story to explanation and demonstration.

Susetthe, of course, was fully on board and delighted in his magic, her face the picture of awe and her lips forming questions almost as often as they exhaled breath. Still, he revealed nothing directly involving them, such as the blood magic. Or his change back to youth, although it was rapidly approaching.

"How long will you two be here?" he mused to Gwaine on their second day, while Susetthe was outside, still marveling at the lake that was hidden from the world. The young man shrugged, though his voice was slow as he thought.

"Not permanently," he answered. "You seemed happy to see us."

Merlin swallowed as the sting hit his chest with the force of a spear. Of course he was happy; Gwaine's doubt shook him. "If it were up to me, I would have you remain forever," he said, far more truthfully than the younger man would ever know. He went to sit at the table with him, unsuccessfully hiding a groan as his legs bent to the position. He knew by the flicker in Gwaine's eyes that he noticed.

The man might have said something, but his sister's entrance silenced him as she began speaking, the words tumbling out as soon as the door had opened.

"I don't think I'll ever get over the magically hidden lake, are there always such secrets hidden in the rest of the world?" she spoke quickly, slightly breathless and her curls in tangles as her eyes sparkled. "Merlin, please do tell me more. What other magic can you do? Must be a lot, hiding a whole lake can't be easy."

Merlin chuckled. The day before, he'd sat them down upon their arrival and, after regaining composure from his shock and happiness, had promptly begun telling them about his magic. He figured now they were old enough, and considered their return a sign that he ought to open more to them. When they hadn't run, or disappeared the next day, he'd been relieved and even more joyous.

He hadn't told them about his own life, though, and he planned not to. Though that would become harder as his death day grew closer, he predicted. Still, he had two weeks.

"When I was first learning magic—really learning, studying and reading as opposed to just trial and error with tricks in my room—I met a dragon," he announced, knowing her eyes would flash and the girl would practically vibrate with curiosity. He glanced to the side to see her, and was not disappointed.

"Dragons? Where? Are dragons still around—how many are there?"

"One," Merlin said, a bit sharply, because her mouth closed into an unsure pout. The old man nodded in apology for his tone, looking down at the table's wooden top as he sorted through emotions and thoughts. "I met the last of the dragons, hidden under the castle I was working in. We became...not quite friends, but had an understanding. I set him free one night, however, and he betrayed me.

"Though later, another dragon was born, and I and the old dragon united to try to look after him and because there were greater forces threatening us." He watched Gwaine's focused gaze, then shifted to Susetthe's enraptured one.

"But where are they now?" Susetthe urged, her impatience prominent. Merlin just sighed, his eyes falling to the scratched tabletop. It seemed to be an answer enough, because the girl fell silent. Merlin did not like that, though.

"Do not be sad, my dear," Merlin said softly, blue eyes sad but gentle as they peeked through his white hair. He continued when her eyes flicked to meet his, though her head was still bowed slightly. "Everything has its time, and we must appreciate and accept it. I have not seen another dragon since then, but my old friend bestowed a great deal of knowledge that I remember every day of my long life."

She smiled at his assurance, nodding eagerly, and Merlin took it in. Gwaine piped up, however, asking if there was a Sir Percival, since his childhood friend had often boasted and Merlin was now the best source. The old man chuckled at the youths' antics.

"Yes, in fact, the king met Percival during one of Camelot's—and his—darkest hours, when Camelot was being taken over by a witch and the king was in great need of loyal, true friends and knights," Merlin smiled as he began the tale of the noble knight.

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