A/N: Warning: AHEAD THERE BE CRACKISH NONSENSE. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK. Hope you likes it :) Reviews make me immeasureably giddy.
Merlin twitched in his itchy bed, folding and unfolding his toes.
Merlin snorted, smacked himself across the face with a lanky hand and snuggled down deeper into the pillows.
Startled, the young man in question jumped out of the bed and hit his head on his side table.
"Ouch!" he exclaimed. "Stupid dragon… Can't it wait?" he grumbled, dragging himself to his feet and skulking off as subtly as he could in the direction of a murky-looking forest, muttering all the way about overgrown lizards that needed to learn to mind their own business and make friends their own size or species.
Upon finally trudging all of the way to a large open field that was in plain view of anyone who cared to look out of their window at Camelot (in fact, that very moment Sir Leon, on his way down the corridor, thought he caught sight of a dragon of all things, sitting in the middle of a field, and he decided he needed to lay off those late night mead-drinking sessions with Sir Gwaine) Merlin was greeted by the sight of an impatient dragon, anxiously hopping from paw to paw, as if he needed the toilet.
"Er… Kilgarrah?" Merlin mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Do you need the toilet?"
The Great Dragon did not look particularly amused. "Young warlock, this situation requires grave seriousness."
"And apparently hopping."
Kilgarrah frowned, but ceased to fidget. "I have called you here to tell you something immensely important, but first I must ask you something: have you heard anything this night?"
"Besides you in my head waking me up? No."
"That is strange. I was expecting… I thought perhaps that you might have heard the call. There is another, young warlock."
"Another young warlock?" Merlin looked put out.
"No, that is not what I was saying."
"Then what were you saying?"
"Perhaps you should let me say it." Merlin looked suitably sheepish, and Kilgarrah continued. "I believe that, not too far from where we are, there is a dragon egg."
"A dragon egg?" Merlin gaped. "But… but I thought you said you were the only one!"
"I believed I was… but, perhaps…" the dragon sighed wistfully. "You must find it."
"And how am I supposed to do that? In case you hadn't noticed it's the middle of the night and neither of us has any idea where this egg is."
"You are a Dragonlord, Merlin. When you seek it, you shall find the answers." With that, Kilgarrah flapped his massive wings and flew away. He didn't know if the cryptic piece of nonsense he'd just handed out to Merlin off the top of his head would actually prove of any use, but he hadn't killed the boy yet with his advice.
"Gaius?" Merlin called, adjusting the bag on his shoulder and smiling nervously at the elderly physician who pottered into his room. "If Arthur comes looking for me will you tell him I'm in bed with a fever?"
"And where are you really?"
Merlin gulped. "Doing something you'll say is a bad idea."
"And is it?"
"Gaius, there are some things that I have to do. You know that." He shot the physician a look, listened to the strange, whining voice inside his head that he presumed was a dragon foetus and went on his way.
Meanwhile, in a dark, dreary cave, that might have looked horribly uninviting to the wandering human, but, to the dragon eye, was as cosy as could be, The Great Dragon lay curled around his spikey tail dreaming about Uther and revenge.
All of a sudden, his sweet dream took an unexpected turn.
"Merlin!" Kilgarrah cried, as he trotted eagerly towards his master, and, he begrudgingly admitted, the human he least often contemplated roasting, for he had actually grown to enjoy the warlock's company, strangely.
"Not now, Kilgarrah, I'm busy," said Merlin, who had his back turned to him.
Kilgarrah frowned. What could possibly be consuming Merlin's attention so entirely?
Just then, Merlin span around, and Kilgarrah saw all too clearly what the problem was. There, cradled in Merlin's arms, was a cute, little baby dragon; an adorable bundle of half-grown spikes, an over-sized snout and watery eyes. Kilgarrah narrowed his eyes. "Who's a cute little dragon?" cooed Merlin, as the abomination in his arms gurgled and growled. "Who's a cute little dragon?" he repeated, like an idiot.
The baby burped a small ring of fire, singeing Merlin's eyebrows off, and the warlock just laughed and tickled its ears. Kilgarrah seethed. There was no way he'd be able to get away with doing that! When he burnt people Merlin got angry with him and banished him from Camelot, but when the baby did it, it was adorable! How unjust.
"Merlin," Kilgarrah demanded urgently. "I need to talk to you! It's about… err… your destiny!" Yes! That would get his attention.
Merlin rolled his eyes. "I'm not doing that with you anymore." What? "I have a new dragon now! He can be my wise spiritual guide, leading me through the dark ahead. You're behind the times, Kilgarrah." He turned to face The Great Dragon, who was whimpering on the floor, close to tears. "I don't need you anymore. I don't want you. I don't need you anymore. I've replaced you."
"Nooooooooo!" Kilgarrah cried, clawing at his eyes, but Merlin just kept bouncing that darn adorable baby dragon and repeating, "I don't need you anymore." It just about broke Kilgarrah's heart.
Kilgarrah woke up covered in a sheen of bluey-silver dragon sweat, his pupils dilated with fear.
"No! Merlin!" he exclaimed, reaching out for his master, only to realise that he wasn't there. It was just a dream. "It was just a dream…"
He dabbed at his forehead with his embroidered handkerchief, dirtying the TGD sewn in pretty pink in the corner.
And then his eyes darkened. "It cannot be allowed to happen… I must stop it. I must be the only one. I am the last dragon. I am the last dragon. I am the last dragon. I am the last dragon. I am the last dragon…" He fell asleep repeating that to himself.
Merlin was enjoying a well-deserved rest as he washed the grime of his week-long trek off himself.
Just outside his room he could hear Arthur arguing with Gaius about it 'being about time he was allowed to see his own servant in his own kingdom'! Merlin giggled to himself: the prat almost sounded concerned…
He rubbed the bruise on his shoulder. Ah well. It would all be worth it. He just hoped that the egg was in good hands with the dragon…
Kilgarrah licked his lips. That had been good.
Yawning, he stretched out his talons and arched his back, sleepily allowing his eyes to drift shut in the morning sunshine. He almost didn't hear the approaching footsteps that signalled the arrival of a certain young warlock.
"Hello Kilgarrah. I hope you don't mind me coming like this but I just thought I'd check on our…" Merlin stopped mid-speech as he caught sight of the empty egg cup and the smug look on the dozing dragon's face. "Are you serious?" he fumed. "I went all that way and risked my life just to fetch you breakfast?"
Kilgarrah grinned to himself and rolled over onto his belly, ignoring the rantings and ravings of the warlock, who would get over it. He always did.
Everything was back to the way it should be.
"The most wonderful thing about dragons," Kilgarrah muttered to Merlin, who had gone a very curious shade of lilac, "is that I'm the only one."