A/N: Part of the Shards of Courage series.
. . .
He saw the paths of time as clear as he saw prey running beneath him. Clearer, even. The long years in the cave beneath the mad king's castle had left his vision somewhat dimmed.
He saw time unfold, and he saw Destiny's strings insidiously entwined throughout it. He shared those threads with the young warlock. It was his duty, after all, in more ways than one. He owed something to Destiny and Magic both.
And if he shared in such a way that the boy was ruthless when he should be merciful, generous would he should be vicious, well. Who could expect a dragon to understand the ways of mortals?
Even if he saw far further than the mortal shells the people wore.
"You ruined it," Destiny hissed.
Kilgharrah shrugged his massive shoulders. His injured wing dragged him down, but there was still a glint in his eyes. "Did I?"
"All my plans, all my plots - " She threw her hands up in the air. "You're supposed to be my ally."
"And you," the dragon pointed out mildly, "were supposed to be mine."
Destiny opened her mouth as if to argue that she'd fulfilled her side of the bargain, appeared to realize that given the circumstances the position was untenable, and changed tack. "Why didn't you support Magic as you were supposed to, then? If you're unsatisfied with me, then surely - "
The dragon laughed. "You forget, my dear, just how far this form can see. I saw what would happen if the destiny you laid out for them had been fulfilled as promised. It was not nearly so pleasant as you would have had me lead them to believe."
Unite all Albion. Bring back magic.
Pretty promises. True, even.
But he had also seen the cost. And if the young warlock had seen it, even he would have agreed that this was better.
"Their destiny shall never come to pass now," he said with complete surety.
Arthur had been allowed a clean death. A heroic death. Magic would come back slowly and carefully. Albion would unite under a loose flag of alliance for a hundred years or so and then fall to the Saxons.
Not ideal. But when he saw the Golden Age of Albion as Destiny would have had it been -
Golden, yes. But when it crashed down in twenty years -
The Old Religion, dark, bloodied, and twisted raising supreme over the land. The screams of sacrifices as blood watered the ground and the land grew dark under Morgana's tortured reign until the earth itself rebelled and swallowed the land whole, and Merlin left to wander alone over a wasteland as he waited for his king to rise -
Defiance of Destiny was a far larger victory than Albion would ever have been. If Magic and Courage had known the full truth, they would have agreed with him.
Kilgharrah settled back. Merlin was not entirely happy now, he was aware, but as fond as he was of the young warlock as he was now, he had still not entirely forgiven Magic, and so this was only fair.
"Your claim on me here has passed, little sister," he told Destiny. "It is Death's turn now."
Destiny continued to rage, but he ignored her. Being the eldest of the siblings had ensured that he grew used to the other's tantrums quickly.
Time yawned and waited for Death.
. . .
A/N: The title is taken from a riddle from geeknative dot com: Until I am measured, I am not known, yet how you miss me, when I have flown. The answer, of course, is time.
A long way back a guest reviewer asked who Time was in this series. They suggested Gaius. I was inclined to agree with them . . . until I remembered someone with a complicated relationship with both Destiny and Magic, who could see the future, and who could turn the failure of destiny in the show into a good thing.
So Kilgharrah became Time.
