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Merlin was fifteen when he dreamed of the man for the first time. He remembered waking on the floor, drenched in his night clothes from sweat and slick, the thin and worn blanket underneath him doing nothing to soften the blow of the vision.
Flashes of blond hair, like the sun rays when they touched the grass, fluttered in his mind's eye every time he blinked. The smell of warm steel and leather had filled his lungs as he stared into eyes that held the ocean in their depths; they crinkled as the man laughed.
Merlin had laughed right alongside him. The alpha’s body was pressed close to his own, and the young omega could feel large, calloused hands making their way to his abdomen and staying there; they were warm like wildfire but gentle, like the softest of blankets. He couldn’t help the way his heart had skipped a beat.
The man was too close for Merlin to see anything of significance. He could see him so clearly, and yet, not at all. It was like staring into a smudged mirror. He would have no idea if he passed the man while he traveled to another village for supplies. But his soul would know. His soul would call for the man, the man with sun-ray hair and ocean eyes.
Merlin had felt a tear slip from his eye when he felt himself wake. But the man brought a hand to his cheek, caressing it gently, like Merlin was the most precious thing in the world. And he spoke.
“ I don’t want you to change. I want you to always be you.”
Merlin felt the winds shifting, carrying a message and a comfort all at once. Merlin would be loved and accepted; he knew this in his bones. And he would be cherished above all else.
The man pulled him closer to his warmth, petting his hair and stroking his stomach. Merlin closed his eyes, only to open them in the land of the waken.
——
Merlin was 16 when he had his first kiss with his crush, a boy a month older than him named Edward. It was very messy and wet, with too much tongue and teeth; he wasn’t very pleased with the whole ordeal—neither was Will when he found out—but he was glad to have had the experience in the first place. It was no longer a thing he needed to worry over.
Yet, he still thought of the blond man in his vision. He hadn’t reappeared, at least not that closely. All he saw were flashes of sun-ray hair, here and there. Still, Merlin obsessed over how gently he was held, caressed, and accepted, like it was easier than breathing.
The omega tried to push him out of his head, but it was no use.
No measly childhood infatuation could hold a candle to the alpha in his vision.
—
Merlin and Will were huddled together in the forest, next to a small campfire. They’d been out for too long; his mother would worry over him.
But Merlin was not weak or fragile, even if he was prone to crying over things most would not. He could handle himself. And Will would be with him as well.
Will was unusually quiet that evening.
“Is something wrong?” The question came out softer than he’d intended. But he’d always had a soft spot for Will.
Will took a breath. “No. Nothing.”
Merlin frowned. He turned back to the piece of rabbit in his hands.
“It’s just—” Will’s voice cut through the silence like a knife. “If you had any secrets, you would tell me, right?”
Merlin’s head snapped towards him. His hands trembled. “…Yeah. If I was able to, I would…”
Will’s laugh was choked out. “Right…” But Will wasn’t done yet. “So when were you planning on telling me that you’re a sorcerer?”
The omega stilled. He felt very cold all of a sudden. “Will, I—“
“Tell me, Merlin, were you ever planning on telling me?”
Merlin swallowed around the pit in his throat. “My mother forbade me from telling anyone. It was too dangerous and—“
“Do you not trust me, then?” Will scoffed, rolling his eyes. Merlin watched as he bit a large piece of rabbit meat.
A part of him felt like that rabbit: helpless and dead.
“Yes! If I had a choice, I would’ve told you. You have to believe me, Will!” Merlin cried, bringing himself closer to his one friend. He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost Will.
Will looked at him. His face softened a bit. Merlin stared at him for a second, then two. He turned to face the fire again.
He raised his hand, watching as embers floated up into the air at his command, glittering and shining. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to create.
But a feeling settled in his skin, burning with such intensity he let out a small breath. A dragon was what he had to make.
And he made the most beautiful dragon he could conjure up: large, majestic, and powerful, but loving. The dragon bounded up to him, booping his nose before letting out a breath of fire at Will, who only looked on in amazement.
Merlin laughed.
—-
His mother was furious when she discovered that Will knew. It mattered little to him; he would be leaving soon, and he told her as much.
Men would come looking for him, and he was meant to go with them.
He told her as such. Her face was stricken. She offered no explanation, and he didn’t ask for one.
But his bag was packed, mostly.
And a letter was ready and waiting for him.
His mother didn’t allow him to talk to Will during that duration of time, an issue they argued over (and over and over and over and over). But her word was final, and so Merlin watched as Will worked on the fields from the cold walls of his home.
Visions of galloping horses and red capes woke him every night, every night except for the one that truly mattered.
When they arrived, he was fast asleep, dreaming of running creeks and fuzzy rabbits in his lap. When his mother woke him, he thought of the blond man that had plagued and shadowed him every day since he was fifteen.
As he rode away from Ealdor, whispering bittersweet goodbyes under his breath, he thought of crowns and dragons and alphas who spoke sweet words into his ears.