Various Fandoms Oneshots

Just a Little Push In the Right Direction

Fandom: Merlin

Characters: Arthur, Merlin, Round Table Knights (minor parts), Kilgarrah

Canon Pairings

Desc: Kilgarrah is getting bloody tired of waiting on Merlin to fulfill destiny, so he decides to take matters into his own...claws. Arthuristraumatized!fic, Merlinissofriggindone!fic. Idk, I was on a road trip and bored and this is what becomes of that. Enjoy!

Crack

Magic reveal fic

Suggestions/spelling mistakes/fic ideas are always welcome!

Word Count: 1'313 

The day had began normally for Arthur and the knights. They woke up, ate breakfast, threw a goblet at a certain insubordinate manservant (at least in Arthur's case), and headed to the training grounds for their bi-weekly practice sessions.

Unfortunately, guessing by the huge shadow currently being cast upon them and the smell of brimstone, it was not going to end that way.

The Great Dragon—didn't he kill The Great Dragon?—flapped once and landed in a cloud of dust, which was impressive given that the grass-covered area was almost completely void of any sort of loose dirt, and looked at a shocked Arthur and knights with what seemed disconcertingly like a glare.

It took Arthur a solid fifteen seconds before he got his wits about him once more, and he barked an order, the Round Table knights clustering around him in a defensive position. Arthur raised his sword threateningly.

"I don't know what witchcraft brings you back from the dead, beast," he bellowed with false bravado. "But I've slayed you once and I will not hesitate to do so again!"

He moved to strike, not expecting the dumb creature to respond—he spoke more to reassure the knights of his confidence than anything else.

And that's why it chilled him to his innermost bones when the dragon let out a deep, guttural laugh, mirth glittering in its eyes and an almost bitter smile on its muzzle. Arthur, shaken deeply by the confusingly human emotions showing on the supposed animal, stood dumbfounded as the dragon shook his head wryly before turning to address the Camelotians once again.

"Foolish king," The Great Dragon rumbled, the words so foreign coming from a dragon that Arthur barely held in a screech. It glared condescendingly. "Did you truly believe one such as yourself could kill a creature of the Old Religion?"

It didn't wait for Arthur to reply (not that the Pendragon would have anyway), instead continuing with another chuckle. "No mortal blade can harm me, much less ones of such low caliber as yours are."

Arthur desperately wanted to defend against the retort, but the logical part of his brain (which sounded suspiciously like Merlin) told him that would be an insanely stupid and dangerous course of action that would more likely get him roasted on the spot than salvage any of his lost pride.

The dragons smile widened. "I see our young warlock has been busy," he said approvingly. "Your father would have not hesitated to forcefully deny such an insult and endanger himself and the lives of his men."

Arthur didn't have time to ponder who the hell the 'young warlock' the dragon spoke of was as the beast continued to speak.

"Speaking of," its voice turned dry. "You and I have much to talk about regarding Emrys...do take a seat."

Arthur somehow found it in himself to jut his chin out stubbornly and straighten, feet still planted firmly on the ground.

"Do not test me, young King of Camelot," the dragon growled threateningly, releasing a snort of smoke that startled a yelp out of Gwaine. "I promise you, I am not pleasant when I am angry."