Merlin Headcanons

Between

"No!" Merlin shouted, using magic to shove the bandit away from his father. Balinor finished him off quickly and looked up with a pride in his eyes that warmed Merlin in a way nothing ever had and that cut right through the choking guilt freeing the dragon had brought.

"Well done."

The warmth of the praise vanished almost instantly in the accusatory, jagged, "Merlin?"

He knew. Arthur knew. He had seen.

Merlin stumbled back, hands up, eyes pleading. "Arthur - "

"Shut up, you - you - "

Balinor had stepped between them, sword still out. "I would be very careful what word you use next, Pendragon."

Arthur glared at him. "This has nothing to do with you. Step aside."

"I watched your father slaughter by brothers. My father. My niece. My whole world. And you think I'm going to step aside and let you kill another one of my kind? You think this has nothing to do with me?"

Arthur slashed a hand through the air. "He's a sorcerer, not a dragon lord."

"He's my son."

Into the devastated silence that followed, Balinor stalked forward. "So unless you want me to use my powers to egg the dragon on, I suggest you keep your mouth shut on things you know nothing about."

"He can't stay in Camelot," Arthur said, more quietly than before.

Merlin spoke up. "I can't leave it either. I'm supposed to protect you, Arthur."

"A sorcerer protecting me. Isn't that a bit of a conflict of interests?"

Balinor looked at Merlin, one eyebrow raised. He looked down, embarassed. "Kilgharrah said something about Emrys. I suppose he could have been lying."

His father's eyes widened before he started to laugh. "No, not about that. Emrys! Well, princeling, looks like you don't have a choice."

"Because a dragon said so?"

"Because Emrys is the most powerful being of magic to ever walk the earth. If he wants something, good luck stopping him."

Something crumpled in the back of Arthur's eyes. He didn't stop them when it was time to move on, but there was something missing.

Merlin dreamed of a dragon roaring out "Emrys!" The Druids stood behind him, hopeful hands reaching out to him. He reached for them eagerly, but behind him, a sound came that made him stop.

Arthur, broken, calling out, "Merlin?" like the plea was his last hope in the world.

And Merlin shattered into a thousand bloody, burning fragments, full of broken trusts and sorcerer's screams -

Only to feel his father's magic, hesitant and awkward, but warm with fierce pride and fiercer love reach out to calm him.

Only to feel a friend's hand shaking him awake, not caring what he was, only caring that he was safe.

He dreamed of Albion after that.

. . . . .

A/N: I feel like it would have been a stronger story if I'd stopped the story at "screams".

However, I also felt like I would have been murdured in my bed, so I didn't. Aren't you glad?