Archive of Our Own ^beta

The young man stole through the night. It was a late hour and darkness had settled over the castle and the lower town of Camelot. He used the moonlight to guide his way, slipping from shadow to shadow, keeping himself concealed.

He was easily recognizable were one to know him. A shock of dark hair cropped short, with ears just a little too big sticking out. But in his attempt to conceal himself that evening, his hood was drawn up tight around his face. He was tall and lanky but as he entered manhood his build was starting to fill out. He was barely a day over eighteen years of age and on this cusp of adulthood he found himself running for his life.

He spied the little squat building that was his destination. A single candle burned in the window, a mark that he was welcome.

He rapped the door with his knuckles three times shortly, paused a beat, and did it twice more.

When the door opened, Gaius stood before him. The older man's eyes looked troubled as he took in the man before him.

The man nodded. "Gaius."

"Come in, come in," Gaius said, quickly ushering him inside. It wasn't Gaius' normal residence, but he had connections all over Camelot. It appeared he was alone. Giaus said, "I'm glad to see you made it away, Balinor."

Balinor pulled back his hood once he was safely inside. He was pale and the line of his jaw was tense. "If it weren't for you, I'm not sure I would've."

"The sleeping draft slipped into the guards' water will not last very long, I'm afraid," Gaius said. Balinor knew that Gaius had assistance in completing that task, though he didn't know by whom. "It couldn't be too potent or they'd taste it and become suspicious."

Balinor shook his head. "It's fine, Gaius. You gave me an opportunity to slip out of my cell. I'll never be able to thank you enough."

Gaius pushed back a stray strand of his mousey brown hair, already salted with the mark of old age. "Making sure you live will be thanks enough."

Balinor looked wistfully in the direction of the castle. "I wish I could see him."

"Who?"

"Kilgharrah." Balinor sighed and his face showed the hurt of the king's lie. "I need to explain -- this wasn't supposed to happen!"

"Shhh," Gaius said, hand patting the air as if it would tone down Balinor's sudden outburst. "This city has ears everywhere."

Suddenly, the warning bells of the castle began to chime. Balinor's angry eyes filled with concern and fear.

Gaius added grimly, "And now it knows to open its eyes. We must prepare you to leave. Immediately."

It was Gaius who moved quickly, packing a few things in a small pack, muttering what the little jars contained as he did. Finally stuffing in some wrapped food that he had procured, Gaius handed it to Balinor.

Balinor slipped on the pack, readjusting his hood so it could be pulled up again. Gaius handed him another bag made of rough wool; it weighed down heavily as Balinor took it. Gaius told him, "Your chain mail."

Balinor stared at him, at a loss for words. "Gaius, I -- thank you." He turned to leave; if he was quick, he could slip out of the lower town and make his way through the woods while it was still dark out.

Gaius asked, "Where will you go?"

Balinor shook his head, unsure. He didn't know that many people outside the castle limits, and he no longer knew who he could trust. It would also be safer for Gaius if he didn't know and Balinor left it vague.

Gaius handed him a letter, sealed with wax. "Go to Ealdor," he said. "Take this to a woman there. Her name is Hunith."

"Hunith?"

Gaius nodded. "Yes. You can trust her -- she will be able to help you, in one way or another."

Balinor nodded and clutched the letter tightly in his hand. Gaius had risked himself greatly thus far to help Balinor and he would not doubt him now.

"Go," Gaius said, gesturing to the door. "And be careful."

Balinor nodded. ""I hope to see you again."

Gaius smiled, though it was grim and it didn't reach his eyes. "Goodbye, Balinor."

The last of the Dragonlords slipped into the night, trying to escape the city and save his life. He wondered if he would ever see Camelot again.

**

As Balinor sneaked through the forests, he stayed clear of main roads and avoided people at all costs.

He had second thoughts about going to Ealdor, as anything could've happened in the time since he'd left Camelot. Gaius could've been suspected of helping him and been questioned, and he knew that Gaius still held a loyalty to the king despite what was happening in the kingdom around them. Balinor didn't want to bring trouble down upon anyone, and certainly not to some woman who wasn't even expecting him yet.

He decided not to go directly there, instead choosing to hide away and waiting to see if things had settled down. He knew it was a bit naïve of him, for the past two years there had been much upheaval in the kingdom with no signs of slowing. But Balinor was at a loss for what to do; he didn't have anyone to give him advice or guide him.

Though he knew it was dangerous, and he tried not to use it often, he used his magic to help him as he hid. He found a small cave, barely large enough for him to sit up in, let alone stand. There he slept, able to put up magic wards that would protect him from any men or animals that may wander by.

It just made everything easier, using his magic, but even if he wasn't a Dragonlord, being caught practicing would still mean death.

Not all Dragonlords held magic like he had; some, simply, could only talk to dragons and that was no small feat in itself. Recently, even that was enough to bring a death sentence down upon them.

Protected by his magic, Balinor slept longer and more deeply in that cave than he had for the previous two years in Camelot. But still, memories danced around in his dreams, a sad and constant reminder of what his life had been before the purges.

**

Balinor started practicing his magic when he was eight years old. His father, Ector, noticed at that early age Balinor had a strong aptitude for it. Ector told Balinor that it would make Balinor very powerful when the day came for him to be a Dragonlord.

Balinor didn't like talking to his father about that, though. Balinor knew it would be sad when he became a Dragonlord, for that meant his father would be gone. They didn't talk about that part and only focused on the good.

Gaius, King Uther's court physician, was one of the tutors who held allegiance to the Dragonlords, committed to educating the sons in Dragonlord ways in case the power passed on to them. Dragonlords were often away at war or busy training but they were still committed to training their sons when they could. As Balinor didn't have a mother, he spent a lot of time with Gaius.

On his very first day of lessons, Gaius told Balinor, "You must keep your magic a secret."

Balinor frowned. "Why? Lots of people use magic."

"Lots of other people want to have Dragonlords. It's safer to keep that quiet until you're much older and know if you have the gift."

Balinor wrinkled his nose, confused. "What kind of people want Dragonlords?"

Gaius answered patiently, "All kinds of rulers and lords. And, sometimes, bad men who want to destroy rulers and lords."

Balinor's jaw dropped at the thought of being taken away from Camelot, away from his father. It scared him, a little. "Bad men want to take me?"

"If you have magic, they might try." Gaius said the words gently, but they were underlined with a sense of urgency.

It had the proper affect on Balinor. His finger drew invisible pictures on Gaius' work bench as he considered Gaius' warning. The excitement he had for lessons had already started to fade. He glanced up at Gaius' through dark eyelashes, teeth worrying his bottom lip. Balinor shook his head and said uncertainly, "Maybe I shouldn't do magic."

"Sorcery is very powerful and special, Balinor. You can use it for good, if you want," Gaius told him encouragingly.

"I don't know," Balinor said. "I don't want to be taken."

"There are laws in place to prevent that," Gaius reassured. "Very bad things happen to men who break the laws."

Balinor was still unsure about it. But after he performed his real first spell -- having spilled sand picked up off the table and put back into a little mixing bowl -- Balinor begged to be taught more. He promised to keep his secret until he was ready. Gaius smiled back and promised to keep Balinor's secret too.

**

In another lesson, Balinor asked about dragons. He'd seen his first one up close a few days before, when his father had taken him on a walk outside the city's walls. There, in the sky, Balinor saw her -- she was bright gold and reflected the sun off her scales. She flew lazily over the forest, and swooped down close to them a few times. Balinor thought she was smiling at him but he couldn't be sure. Balinor had never seen anything more amazing in his life.

"How come there aren't more dragons?" he asked Gaius.

"Lots of people want dragons for their tough scales, or for their helpful blood. They'll even steal dragon's eggs for the really hard shell."

The thought of that appalled Balinor. He asked, frowning, "People hunt dragons?"

"Some people do but it's not allowed," Gaius answered. He handed Balinor a small bowl, to grind up some leaves. "It's against the law."

"Says who?"

"King Uther's father made the law when he noticed there weren't that many dragons anymore. Now King Uther is trying to protect them, too."

"That's good," Balinor said, nodding his head seriously. His father had told him about King Uther, that he was a good king who supported the Dragonlords and respected their private and sacred codes.

Gaius smiled widely. "Yes, Balinor. Yes it is."

Balinor dutifully carried on his lessons, but his mind was never far from dragons. Most of all, it was their history he wanted to know.

**

When he was a young boy, Balinor's favourite bedtime story was about the very first dragon and Dragonlord. Whenever his father was home, Balinor pleaded for him to tell it.

"Again, Balinor?" his father, Ector, teased. He tugged on his beard, pretending to think about it.

"Father!" Balinor begged insistently, but happily, eye's wide with his child's interest. "Please tell me?"

"All right, all right," his father said, huffing as if it were a chore. But Balinor saw the twinkle in Ector's eye and it made Balinor smile wide as he snuggled down into his small bed.

"There was a young boy who wandered too far away from his village," Ector started. "And he was exploring the countryside. He came across a place that was looked like a big rock and it rose up out of the ground--" Ector stretched his arms up to the roof "-- and went high into the air."

"What was the place called?" Balinor asked, because he could never remember how to say it.

"The Ridge of Asceteir."

"Right!" Balinor agreed.

"The boy climbed up, way up, and do you know what he found?" Ector asked, drawing his son into the story.

Balinor answered excitedly, "The first dragon's egg!"

"Yes," Ector said, nodding. "The boy saved it from teetering over the edge."

"That would've been bad," Balinor said, sad at the thought.

"Very bad," Ector agreed. But he smiled. "But he saved it! In his hands, the egg cracked, little by little, until finally the first dragon hatched."

Balinor filled in, "The dragon was happy."

"Yes he was. He was so happy with the boy for saving the new born race that the little baby dragon breathed some of his magic into him, connecting them forever."

"So the boy could help the dragon get big," Balinor supplied. It was his favourite part of the story; a young boy such as himself helping a little dragon.

"Exactly," Ector agreed. "And now for every dragon there is a man to help him or her along. Nature knows how to keep the balance."

Balinor added firmly, "But no man owns a dragon!"

Ector smiled down at his son, eyes warm at Balinor's enthusiasm. "Nobody owns any dragons but they are our friends, especially to Dragonlords."

"I might not be one someday," Balinor said. He frowned a little because that would be sad; he really, really wanted to be a Dragonlord like his father.

"It depends how many dragons there are," Ector agreed reluctantly. But, as always, he gave an encouraging smile. "But you will be one, my son, you will."

Balinor always fell asleep peacefully after hearing that.

**

Balinor would never forget the day his father told him, convincingly and with so much conviction, that Balinor was destined to be a great Dragonlord. Balinor was fourteen, apprenticed to Gaius, and up to his elbows in a leech tank while continuously making faces. He really hated leeches.

Ector entered Gaius' chambers, his eyes brightening as he spotted his son.

"Father!" Balinor exclaimed happily. His father had been away with Uther's armies, fighting in a campaign against Cendred. "I didn't know you were back!"

Balinor pulled his hands out of the tank, plucking a leech from his forearm and throwing it back in. He rushed to his father with an extended hand, even though it was covered with the slime of the tank. Ector laughed and shook it anyway, his other large hand clapping Balinor's slim shoulder.

"We've just arrived, and the first thing I did was search for you," Ector said. Even though he looked battle worn, tired, wearing dirty clothes and had greasy hair from so much travel, there was still a wide smile on his face. "I have great news!"

"Yes, Father?"

"You're going to be a great Dragonlord!"

Balinor couldn't help smiling. . He understood that it might not be but his father seemed so confident and it was contagious.

Except that when he really thought about it, Balinor's smile faltered a little. "How do you know?"

Ector smiled proudly, and leaned in close. "Kilgharrah told me."

Balinor exclaimed, excitedly, "The Great Dragon!"

"Shhhh," Ector hushed, but he was laughing. "But, yes, him."

"You spoke to him? Really?"

Everyone -- even common folk who held no magic -- had heard about the Great Dragon. It was believed he was the oldest of all the dragons that remained. It was said that his age had created such a strong bond with the old religion that he could look into the depths of a man's soul and sense his destiny.

Everyone also knew that dragons spoke in cryptic riddles and rhymes. There was some deciphering to it and one had to be careful how to take it. The future was not set in stone and not even the Great Dragon could know how everything was to unfold.

Even at his young age, Balinor understood that. And his father certainly should have.

"What did he say, Father?"

His father sat down on a chair, pulling his son to stand in front of him. His hands settled on the boy's upper arms, squeezing gently. "He said my lineage will produce a great heir who will bring peace to the land."

Balinor wanted to believe his father, he really did. But that was an awfully big responsibility; they had no idea if it was what the Great Dragon really meant. He asked cautiously, "Do you think he said that because you're so tired of fighting?"

Ector had been a Dragonlord in Uther's army for many years, and for the past five, they'd been on an aggressive campaign against Cendred and his own Dragonlords. Ector had been away more than he'd been home. To have the Great Dragon tell him that there would be peace to the land was a blessing indeed.

"Yes, Balinor. I'm tired of fighting," Ector agreed, somewhat reluctantly. He added, smiling big and true, "But I believe in you, son. You will bring peace."

And there, in the chamber full of little vials of medicine and books and a half-cleaned leech tank, Balinor's father pinned his hopes and dreams for peace and prosperity on his son.

**

Four years later, Balinor sat as still as a gargoyle on a rock outside a cave, pondering how he became a fugitive and hunted young man as his world crumbled around him.

**

When enough time passed that Balinor thought he'd be able to travel as safely as was possible, he made his way to Ealdor. He kept off main roads and avoided towns and other dwellings while using his map. It had once been his father's and had been given to Balinor upon his father's passing. It was something Gaius had been able to salvage for him.

He stopped at the Ridge of Asceteir. Balinor went there to pay his respects to his heritage; to his ancestors before him and to the dragons whom allowed them to be a part of their lives. If Balinor had made it there earlier in his life it would have been a moment to rejoice. The day, he only knew sorrow.

As he sat down on the ground, cross legged with his hands resting on his knees, he looked out to the land before him. He could feel the energy in the place and the invisible magic that crackled though the air. It should be a place of goodness but with the way the world of magic and the dragons was changing, becoming diminished, the power felt desperate, as if clinging on to its rightful place in the land.

It had also been the place his father had died. Balinor bowed his head and thought of dragons and his father, a heavy ache settling on his heart.

**

The day he'd found out about his father's death, Balinor was in Camelot, fifteen years old and running errands for Gaius. He'd seen the army start to trail in, the knights returning to Camelot and riding their horses up to the castle. It could only mean one thing -- his father would be home, too!

Balinor rushed through the streets, dodging other peasants. When he returned to Gaius' chambers he found the older man standing at the window, gazing out into the streets below, as though something serious occupied his mind. Ector was not there.

"Gaius?"

Gaius turned to Balinor, looking troubled. "Balinor, I have some grave news."

Balinor hadn't wanted to believe it at first. He had thrown a fit and yelled at Gaius for telling him lies, even though he knew there was no cause for Gaius to do so. The old man look crestfallen and tried to reassure him that he'd be okay, that he had a new role to step into. But Gaius didn't understand. The thought of his father dead left Balinor feeling sick, weighing him down as if there were rocks in his gut.

Balinor yelled, "Maybe I don't want it!" And with that, he hurried out of the chambers and down the stone steps, knowing there was no way Gaius would be able to follow him.

He rushed through the streets of Camelot, down through the lower town, and out through the gate. He ran down the road leading away from the castle. When he eventually stopped and collapsed in the bush, it felt like he'd been sprinting for miles.

When he finally had the energy to stand, he went into the woods, being familiar with the land and quickly finding a stream. He knelt in the mud next to it, cupping his hands and dipping them in the water, splashing some on his face.

It was when he looked up that he realised he was sharing the stream.

The dragon was sitting on the bank just across the water from him, her golden scales reflecting the sun. She was a smaller dragon, but compared to humans, they were always big. The dragon was lying out on the ground, head resting on her front legs, big tail wrapped around her body like a cat. She was looking lazily at him with one half-opened eye.

He stood up straight and stepped into the cool water, taking a couple of strides towards her. She lifted her head, watching him. She almost looked amused, if a dragon was even capable of that.

It wasn't the first dragon he'd ever seen before, but it was the first he'd faced by himself.

Balinor didn't feel afraid at all.

He crossed the shallow stream, the bottom of his trousers wet and dragging in the mud as he came to stand before her. She watched him, unmoving.

Balinor could hear his father's voice, telling him what to do. The power started to course through him like the beat of a drum, reverberated through his chest.

"Drago!" he said, getting her attention.

Her head bowed down a little, docile, and he knew -- just knew -- his powers had control over her.

He told her to fly up into the sky and do three somersaults.

He was pretty certain she laughed at him. She snorted out breaths of air, which lifted up his hair and made his jacket flap as if in the wind. But she lifted off the ground, her large wings unfurling from her body and spreading wide. She flew up into the air and did three somersaults.

Balinor could feel his power release her after his command had been followed. He expected her to fly away, to be annoyed with a boy and his ridiculous request. But he watched as she did a couple more manoeuvres, which were much more complicated and beautiful than he'd asked for. When done, she landed on the ground back where she had begun.

By the time she had, Balinor was down on his knees. She curled her tail around again, including him in her space, protecting him.

Her puffs of exhaled breath dried his tears before they hit the ground.

**

Balinor arrived in Ealdor nearly a fortnight later than he should've but he had managed to go undetected and hadn't been followed. He had double-backed and looped around, walked through streams and backtracked more than once. He was certain that he wouldn't have any one following and there wasn't a trail. He felt secure with going into the town; his food was scarce enough that he would need to restock anyway, if he were to move on beyond the destination of Ealdor.

Entering the town, he stopped and spoke to the first people he came across. One was a strapping young man who looked in his late twenties, and the other an older one who had to be near Gaius' age.

"Hullo," Balinor greeted. He tried to bring a smile to his face as he approached them. "I'm looking for Hunith of Ealdor."

Both looked at him with suspicion. The younger of the two, short and stocky with shaggy brown hair, crossed his arms. The older, his face wrinkled with a terrible scar running across one cheek, raised an eyebrow in an expression that rivalled Gaius' for incredulity.

"Who're you?" the older man asked.

"Balinor," he answered immediately. He had contemplated using a fake name, but he didn't know how Gaius had explained him in the letter to Hunith. The last thing he wanted was to be caught in a lie with someone who might be willing to help. "And you?"

"I'm Orland," the older man said. He pointed to the younger one. "And that's Jonas. What is your business with Hunith?"

"I have a letter," Balinor said. He swung his pack around, and dug out the letter the he'd taken such good care of while travelling. "From a friend who knew I was travelling this way."

Orland asked, "And who is that friend?"

Balinor frowned. "I don't see how that's any of your business. You may want to ask Hunith once she receives her letter."

"Fair enough," Jonas said, stepping forward with his hand extended. "I'll make sure she gets it."

Balinor's frown deepened and he clutched it close to his chest. "I'd much rather deliver it myself," he said. "I told her friend I would."

"It's all right, Jonas," Orland said. He was nodding to himself, as if he understood Balinor's decision. "You can show him to Hunith."

Jonas' smile relaxed into something more friendly; Orland obviously held sway in opinion. Jonas gestured for Balinor to follow him. "Come with me," he said. "I was about to go see Hunith myself."

Balinor followed Jonas -- for all of fifty strides, perhaps.

Jonas announced, "Here we are!" He gestured to a small hut.

Balinor blinked. "You couldn't have just pointed?"

Jonas laughed. "Suppose I could have." He eyed Balinor and then stated, "We take care of our own around here. I have no clue who you are, mate."

Balinor hummed noncommittally. That much was true and it was difficult to hold that against either of the two men he approached. "Don't know why you'd call me mate then."

Jonas laughed. He really didn't seem that terrible of a guy. "You make a point." He didn't elaborate further because he was suddenly distracted. A small boy, perhaps two years old, ran out of the hut.

"Da!"

Jonas scooped up the boy, throwing him up in the air above his head, catching him soundly as the boy giggled. Resting him on his hip, Jonas turned to Balinor and said proudly. "This here is my son, William."

William looked at Balinor. Balinor tried to smile at him but William buried his face into his father's shoulder.

Jonas laughed. "He doesn't like strangers all the much."

A new, feminine voice greeted them. "Hello."

Both men turned to look at her. Jonas said, jollily, "Hello, Hunith!"

Balinor's jaw dropped, though he tried to not look like too much of an idiot. He didn't know what he'd been expecting when he met Hunith; though, as Gaius knew her, perhaps he was thinking someone a bit older. But Hunith was young, maybe around Balinor's age or a little younger. She was short and petite, with dark hair and the kindest eyes he'd ever seen.

"Uh. Hullo," Balinor said, almost shyly.

Jonas didn't miss a beat, picking up where Balinor should have been filling in. "This is Balinor. He says he has a letter for you. From a friend."

"Hullo, Balinor," Hunith greeted. She looked at Balinor expectedly. He look back at her a moment, then he looked down at his boots.

Jonas suggested, amused, "Perhaps you could give it to her?"

"Oh! Yes. Of course," Balinor said. He handed her the folded parchment and she took it from him with a smile on her face -- although he suspected that was because he was acting a bit of a fool.

Her fingertips ran over the wax that held the letter closed and her name written on the front. "Oh," she said. She looked at him, a surprised look in her face. But she smiled gratefully. "This is indeed from a friend. Thank you."

Balinor nodded. "You're welcome."

He shifted on his feet awkwardly. He wanted to speak to her further but didn't know if he should with Jonas right there. The stocky man had a bemused expression while looking between the two of them. William's head rested on his father's shoulder, big eyes peering at Balinor uncertainly.

"Right then!" Jonas said. Turning to Hunith, he continued, "Many thanks, as always, for taking care of William." He squeezed her arm in a friendly gesture.

She smiled in return. "As always, it's no trouble at all."

To Balinor, he said, "It was nice to meet you." He even extended a hand out to Balinor.

Balinor took it, shaking firmly. "Thanks for showing the way."

Jonas gave a deep belly laugh. "Well that was no trouble at all. I'll be seeing you."

Balinor gave a smile, not really wanting to give a verbal confirmation -- he really had no idea what the rest of the day held, let alone the future. Perhaps he'd be seeing Jonas again, but maybe not.

Jonas took his leave of them, William waving a goodbye Hunith while not even looking at Balinor again. Once they were gone, Hunith said to Balinor, "Would you care to come in? You look as though you've been travelling for some time."

"I'd like that," he said gratefully. He followed her into the hut, ducking his head as he went through the door.

Balinor sat on a wobbly chair at the uneven table and Hunith placed a cup of water in front of him. She sat across from him and opened the letter. He watched her read it through; saw her smooth brow crinkled with growing concern and as she released a small gasp.

Putting the letter down on the table top, she folded her small hands neatly atop it. She looked at him, as if searching for answers.

Balinor said uncertainly, "I don't know what he told you."

"That you're in need of help," she said softly.

He nodded. That much was true. "I don't want to cause anyone any trouble," he said to her, because that much was true as well.

She shook her head. "It wouldn't be any trouble at all. Even if you choose only to stay on a while, to rest and recuperate?" she suggested. "I've only the one cot …" She trailed off, realising what she'd said, her cheeks growing pink.

Balinor instantly insisted, "I have a bedroll!" He pointed unnecessarily to the pack he had rested beside the table. "The floor is fine. I'll sleep on the floor."

She smiled. "We'll get you some straw and make you a bed."

"That would be fine," he said. "Absolutely fine. I don't want to cause trouble."

"So you've mentioned." She tilted her head to the side. "Camelot has changed greatly in the past couple years."

"Yes, it has."

"And certain people are … unwelcome."

He couldn't help but snort. "That's putting it lightly." He blushed a bit. "Pardon me."

She shook her head. "It's all right. Balinor--" She paused a moment, trying to capture the right words. "You're welcome in my home, but. There is a need for--"

"Discretion?"

"Yes," she agreed. "It's a simple life here, in Ealdor. People prefer things -- uncomplicated."

"I don't want to cause anyone--"

"-- Any trouble. You've said," she finished for him, a light sparkle to her eye.

Balinor asked, curious, "Why would you help me? If you know I might be … complicated?" They were dancing around the words though he suspected she knew exactly what it was they were talking about.

"Gaius knows and trusts you, and asked for my help. It's yours, if you so want it."

He nodded. "I appreciate anything you would be able to do for me."

She nodded and that seemed to be the end of that. She folded the letter and tucked it away. "Then let's get you settled."

**

Life in Ealdor was indeed simple and uncomplicated, though it did have its moments.

Balinor thought that a stranger arriving from Camelot would cause some suspicion, even if his magic and Dragonlord powers weren't known. But it appeared that as long as he had the approval of Orland, who seemed to be the unofficial leader of the town -- or at least garnered the respect of everyone there and they listened -- there would be no trouble.

It only took about three days to have Orland's blessing.

Balinor and Hunith had been walking down the main path of Ealdor (which wasn't saying much, as there were only two paths that surrounded the small gathering of huts.) Hunith had William on her hip, as he hadn't grown to Balinor yet. There were a couple of other children underfoot, as a young single woman Hunith seemed to have the job of looking out for them while the men were in the field and no longer had a woman of their own.

They were pulled from their light conversation by yelling. Balinor rushed over to help as he saw a man help Jonas hobble out of the field.

"What is it?" he asked, running over to them. He pulled up Jonas' other arm and slung it over his shoulder. His arm went around his waist to help ease the load from the other man -- Edward, if Balinor recalled correctly.

"I'm dying!" Jonas said, hopping along on one foot. "Do you hear that, Balinor? Dying!"

Hunith rushed up to them, William bouncing in her embrace as the three children ran behind her, laughing and flailing their arms, as if this was a game they were playing.

"Jonas!" She exclaimed, full of concern. "What happened?"

"I'm dying!" he said. Little William burst into tears -- though he didn't understand the words coming out of his father's mouth, he must've understood the concern.

Edward laughed, not at all concerned. "He has a bee sting."

Balinor almost dropped Jonas and Hunith's eyes bulged. Balinor asked, shocked, "That's it?"

"I will have you know!" Jonas said loudly, and then suddenly released a moan of pain. "That people have been known to die from bee stings!"

Balinor nodded, conceding, "That's true. Where's the sting?"

"On my ankle!"

Balinor stooped low, pushing up the leg of Jonas' breeches to view his ankle. "It's swollen," he deducted.

"I know that!" Jonas snapped. "And it'll spread to the rest of my leg, they might have to chop it off, and then I'll die. This is no dignified way for a man to die! Where's the honour in that. A bee sting," he scoffed, adding on a moan.

"That is also very true," Balinor said, deadpanned, though he winked at Hunith. Hunith hid her smile as she tried to calm William, rocking him back and forth. Balinor said, "However, I may be able to help."

"What do you know of healing the dying?"

By this time, the little group had gathered other observers. Orland rubbed at his scarred cheek and asked, "Yes, Balinor, what would you know?"

Hunith put in over William's sobs, "He apprenticed with a court's physician."

Jonas blinked, and then exclaimed hurriedly, "Well, get on with it, then!"

Hunith ushered the other giggling children away as she continued to calm William, leaving Balinor and the other men to attend to Jonas. William had settled a bit, though big tears rolled down his face as he looked over her shoulder and kept his eyes on his father until they disappeared around the corner.

They helped Jonas into the nearest hut, and Balinor asked Edward to gather a few simple ingredients -- Balinor really didn't know the townsfolk well enough to know who might have them. Everyone else had been shooed away, and only Orland and Balinor remained with Jonas.

Balinor assessed Jonas' ankle. He poked around at it, searching for the stinger, while Jonas cursed up a storm at him, even going as far as to try and hit him atop the head. Only Orland's sharp word to let Balinor continue stopped the yelling ... that, and a rag that was shoved into Jonas' mouth.

Balinor gave a triumphant "Ah ha!" as he pulled out the stinger. It had been embedded quite deep, which was likely what led to all the pain Jonas felt. He was aware that some people did indeed have an aversion to bee stings that made them very ill. Balinor concocted a paste that Gaius had shown him and smoothed it over the area, hoping to put down the swelling and stop the spread of venom.

Satisfied that his patient was indeed saved from death, Balinor took his leave to check on Hunith and the children.

Orland stopped him just outside the hut. "Is it true?" he asked, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You apprenticed with a court physician?"

Balinor nodded. "Yes, I did."

"But no longer?"

He shook his head. He didn't particularly want to go into details because it would lead to so many other questions. But he didn't want to leave it at that. "No. It was time to move on." That was certainly no lie.

"Where are you going to?"

Balinor shrugged. "I don't know yet."

"Hmmm," Orland hummed. He clapped Balinor on that back. "Hunith seems fond of you. And you just helped Jonas."

"Through life and death," Balinor said solemnly, though he ended up cracking a smile.

Orland chuckled. "Yes. We could use someone of your talents around here."

"Really?" Balinor asked, raising an eyebrow. "I … Really?"

Orland nodded. "We take care of our own and we all contribute. Of course, if you're staying in the community you will be expected to pay your part."

"Of course," Balinor agreed immediately. "I had mentioned to Hunith that I could perhaps start working in the fields, if I were to stay."

Orland clapped him on the back. "That would be a fine gesture and you're a strapping young lad. Do that, and help with your medicinal knowledge, and you could find a place here."

Balinor couldn't help but beam. "Well … Thank you, Orland. I'll consider it."

"It would be good for you to do so."

Balinor walked quickly back to Hunith's hut. William ran out of it, hoping to see his father, but stopped in his tracks when he saw it was only Balinor. Nonetheless, Balinor scooped William up and threw him up in the air, as he'd seen Jonas do every day. William burst into laughter at the unexpected toss and didn't even try to squirm out of Balinor's arms when he was settled down.

Hunith poked her head out of the door. "Is everything okay?"

Balinor smiled wide. "I believe it might be. We've much to discuss."

**

It was a couple months after Balinor arrived in Ealdor when he realised why Gaius had sent him to Hunith.

He'd thought perhaps it was because Hunith was Gaius' sister by a shared father. Their father had been an older man who died shortly after Hunith was born. Her mother remarried a man from Ealdor and the family moved shortly thereafter. Gaius had kept in touch with Hunith's mother and later Hunith when she was older.

He even thought perhaps that Gaius wanted someone he knew and trusted in Ealdor to look out for Hunith. Just the winter before, a terrible sickness had swept through the village. Several people succumbed to it, including both Hunith's parents, leaving her alone.

He thought perhaps it was because Hunith was a kind and gentle woman. Though Balinor was starting to open up to her a little about his life in Camelot, she never pried and they never brought up magic. She accepted that he was facing a difficult time in his life and that was that. He wanted to tell her more, and thought perhaps someday he could, but it was safer for everyone if he kept it secret.

The time came to tell her a lot sooner then he expected. He also came to realise why Gaius had sent him to Hunith; it was everything he thought, plus more.

One night, Balinor was having a fitful sleep, restless on his bedroll on the hard ground of Hunith's hut. There was a terrible thunderstorm, with rain beating down on the thatched roof and strikes of lightning flashing across the sky and illuminating the little hut. He rolled over onto his back and stared up through the darkness as if searching for something that could finally bring sleep down upon him, but the light from the lightning showed him nothing.

He could hear Hunith tossing and turning as well, the makeshift wooden bedposts creaking against each other. But it was more than just having trouble sleeping -- it started to sound as if she was having a night terror. It was difficult to hear over the sounds of the storm but he tried to listen closely for it.

He whispered through the dark. "Hunith? Hunith, you all right?"

But she didn't answer him and there was a terrible little moan that ripped into Balinor's heart.

He got up off the floor and picked up his candle, muttering an incantation to light it. He very rarely used magic anymore, fearing he would be seen, but he didn't have too much cause for worry in Hunith's little hut while the village slept. He made his way to her bedside where he saw she was sleeping but her head was turning to and fro on the lumpy pillow.

"Hunith?" he said. He crouched beside the bed and lightly touched her shoulder.

Her eyes flew opened and the flash of gold in them was unmistakable.

Balinor stared at her, stunned, for he hadn't been expecting that.

Hunith sat up when she realised he was there, pulling the blanket up around her neck and cowering against the wall.

Balinor said, astounded, "I had no idea."

Hunith shook her head. "No. It's not. It's not that."

Balinor tried to reach out a comforting hand but she shrank away from it. He rested it lightly on the blanket and tried to have the friendliest, most welcoming demeanour he could.

"I promise I won't tell anyone," Balinor said gently. He knew that was the first thing he'd like to hear, even if it was hard to believe. "And I'm the last person in all of Albion who would be angry at you."

Her breathing had evened as she looked at him. Finally, she whispered, "I don't know -- I knew there was a reason you had to flee from Camelot."

"And now I know why Gaius sent me here."

She nodded. "No one here knows, though. Well, my parents did, but we kept it secret."

"Why?" Balinor asked. "Ma – It's accepted in Cendred's kingdom. It used to be in Camelot until recently."

"I always had dreams but these different ones didn't start until I started to become a woman." She was whispering and he had to strain forward to hear her. "There is a new lord of these lands and he's very young and very greedy. He covets people like -- like -- like me," she finally conceded. "My parents didn't want me to be taken away. He's a cruel sort."

Balinor nodded. "And now everything is different."

"It's dangerous."

"Yes," Balinor agreed. He wanted to ask her more, to find out all about her magic. He knew a little about seers; that some were very powerful while others weren't at all. But Hunith seemed frightened and he didn't want to push it too much. He understood all too well that having such a secret exposed left a feeling of vulnerability.

Balinor knew he had to gain her trust before they would be on equal footing, so she'd be comfortable to talk about it.

He offered quietly, "I can talk to dragons."

She gasped. "You're -- a Dragonlord."

He nodded, though he said grimly, "I was. All my kind are gone now and there are no dragons left."

"It's terrible, what's happening," she said, her voice laden with sorrow.

Balinor couldn't agree more. He looked at her and she met his gaze steadily. It was as if they were trying to search each other's souls, to find out more about each other, without having to admit the words out loud.

"Perhaps it's time we try to get some sleep," Balinor said. He stood up to make his way to his own bed.

Hunith said, "Balinor, we have to watch out for the other villagers tomorrow."

He immediately crouched down beside her bed again, reaching out to take her hand. She let him, meeting him half way, and she squeezed his tightly. Balinor prompted, "What did you see?"

Her eyes were filled with unshed tears. "I don't know," she said desperately. "I never know. I don't always understand!"

"Shhh, it's okay," Balinor said, trying to comfort her.

"They're not always bad," she tried to explain. "But sometimes I can -- there's a feeling behind it. This one was so sad."

"What'll happen?"

"I don't know," she said sadly, her tears starting to fall. "I don't know how, or what, I just do. Someone will get hurt."

"Hunith, please, try to remember," Balinor gently prodded. "If we can help--"

"I want to, but I -- It doesn't work like that," she said, a small sob finally wrenching from her throat. "I don't know how to make it work like that."

"Okay, okay. It's okay," he said soothingly. He sat up on the bed and pulled her into his embrace. She let him, and rested her cheek against his chest as her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

When she finally fell asleep, he tucked her back into her bed and returned to his on the floor. But he couldn't find sleep and listened to the storm long into the night.

**

The next morning, one of the young men of the village was found drowned in the creek just outside of Ealdor. The storm had made it swell and the current was unexpectedly strong.

An older brother and the father carried the young man's body, tears silently falling down their cheeks as they made their way back into town.

Their father only crumpled once his wife ran out of their home. Her loud screams filled all the huts in Ealdor with her song of sadness.

Balinor and Hunith stood in Hunith's hut. He clutched her close to him as she buried her face into his chest and cried.

**

One morning, Hunith said to Balinor, "I think you should go hunting."

Balinor looked up from his bowl of porridge, surprised. "Excuse me?"

"You should go hunting with the party that leaves tomorrow," Hunith answered with an encouraging smile.

"Hunith, I -- It's illegal!"

Everyone knew that hunting was completely forbidden in a lord's forest. If a peasant got caught poaching there would be consequences, and often severe ones.

"A couple of the men go," Hunith said. "The lord of this land doesn't care much about our village; it's too far away from him. It doesn't happen often but the meat is shared with everybody."

"I don't think I should be participating in something so -- wrong," Balinor protested. "I'm trying to hide from trouble, not call for it!"

Hunith shook her head. "They've been doing this for years, Balinor. They know what they're doing."

He scowled at her. "But this is a mighty risk. I really don't think I should," he said. He shook his head, resolved. "I'm not."

Hunith only frowned at him. Balinor found he couldn't look at her when she looked like that. He shifted awkwardly in his chair, keeping his eyes down. As he raised a spoon to his mouth, he asked, "Why would you suggest that?"

"I think I dreamt it," she answered, almost casually.

Balinor nearly spat out his porridge as he started to cough on it. She calmly handed him his cup of water.

They hadn't discussed her dreams much since the incident the month before; she brought up an occasional word about it but he never pressed. It caught his full attention for her to do so now.

"Really?" he asked. "Me? Hunting?"

She nodded, and smiled. "I think so," she said. "And it was a good dream. I felt success behind it."

Well. That did him in, because if he could do something good for her after the pain of her previous dream, there was nothing that would stop him.

Except, perhaps, his absolute inability to actually hunt.

Three days later the hunting party returned to Ealdor, and they were very successful. And they had stayed out of trouble; Hunith was right when she said there was no one in those woods. It was a small party, with only three other men, and they carried with them the spoils of their hunt -- a large hart and several rabbits.

As they walked up to Hunith's home, Jonas clapped Balinor strongly on the back. "Your man was magnificent!" he announced to Hunith.

Balinor's face went bright red, right up to the tips of his ears. It wasn't over the praise of his hunt but over the implication that -- well. Hunith and he had never spoken any words on her being his woman, though he certainly wouldn't be opposed to it.

"Jonas," he tried to interject to stop his new friend's blathering.

Jonas wasn't easily deterred as he spoke to a beaming Hunith. "His arrows shot strong and true! Right into that hart's heart!"

Of course, Jonas nor any of the other men in the hunting party had any idea that there may have been an incantation whispered to help steady Balinor's arrow. His first shots had been so off the mark he didn't think there would be any other way to do it.

Hunith smiled knowingly. "Is that so?"

Jonas slung an arm around Balinor's shoulders, squeezing tightly. "It sure is! What a great idea, to bring this man along."

"Oh, well," Balinor said, shrugging. "I really didn't know I'd be that good." He avoided meeting Hunith's eyse for fear he'd burst out laughing.

"And so modest too!" Jonas said, shaking his head. "Quite a man, Balinor is."

"I'd hardly disagree," Hunith replied. Balinor's cheeks turned a deeper scarlet.

Jonas ducked into Hunith's to check on his sleeping son. Hunith raised one eyebrow and Balinor could definitely see the family resemblance with Gaius more clearly then ever before.

"Successful hunting, you say?" she asked teasingly.

He couldn't help but laugh. "It would appear so."

"Good thing you listened to me."

He smiled widely. "You're never going to let me forget this, are you?"

"Only when you don't take my advice."

"Well," he said, "I guess I'm going to have to remember that."

**

A fortnight later, Balinor thought that he was possibly being betrayed by his best friend and the love of his life. Not that he'd ever told either of those people he felt that way about them, but it was a bit disappointing that they hadn't figured it out yet.

It was rather a crushing feeling, actually.

He was rounding the back of the back of Hunith's after coming back from collecting firewood from the forest. He stopped when he heard a conversation between Jonas and Hunith and he didn't want to allude to his presence.

Jonas was saying, "You know, Hunith, Balinor is being a bit of a daft idiot, isn't he?"

Balinor felt his anger start to boil. He gripped the firewood in his hand a bit tighter, nails digging into the bark.

Hunith scolded. "That's not a kind thing to say."

"Perhaps not but it's true! He still sleeps on a bedroll, doesn't he?"

"Jonas!" Hunith exclaimed, sounding shocked. "That is really none of you business."

Balinor's cheeks turned pink but for an entirely different reason than anger now.

"Well, if he isn't going to make you his woman, I figure I should."

And Balinor was back to anger. He leaned up against the stone wall of the hut. If he hadn't, he was either going to collapse or else round the corner and cast a spell that turned Jonas into a toad, illegal magic be damned. He didn't think either would be a very good option at this point, though, so he tried to keep his head.

"Oh, Jonas," Hunith said kindly, and Balinor could picture her lightly patting his arm a bit patronisingly. "I've always thought of you like a brother. You know it wouldn't work."

Jonas gave an exaggerated sigh. "I know, I know. But after losing Judith--" Balinor knew that was Jonas' late wife, and the mother of his son, who had passed the winter before with the same sickness that claimed Hunith's parents, "--I'm going to have to find a new woman and a mother for my child. You seem a very logical choice."

"Well, I'm flattered. I think," she said teasingly. She added softly, "You cared for her very much. I don't think she'll ever be replaced."

"This is true," Jonas said, and Balinor could hear a lingering love in his voice. He knew how rare that could be.

"Besides," Hunith said, "I do believe my heart belongs to another."

"Yeah," Jonas snorted, "a daft idiot who doesn't realise what's right in front of him."

"He may, some day."

The conversation stopped with William's giggling and Jonas' attention turned back to his son.

Balinor stood up against the stone wall, jaw dropped in shock as the conversation rolled around in his head.

He had to agree with Jonas: he was a daft idiot.

Later that evening, Hunith was clearing the bowls of soup from the table when Balinor lightly grabbed her wrist. He ran a thumb over the soft skin.

"Balinor?" she asked, face full of question.

He rose from his chair, hand slipping a little so that he was holding her tiny one in his. "Hunith, I--" He trailed off a bit, unsure what to say.

"Yes?" She was looking at him, face drawn up tense, but there was hope in her eyes. It gave him the encouragement he needed.

Simply, he said, "You have my heart. Always."

Her face melted into the most beautiful smile that lit up the entire room and sent a rush coursing through his entire body. She replied, wonderfully, "And you have mine."

He cupped her cheeks in his hands and leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on her lips.

**

"I can't believe you're leaving."

Balinor's head snapped up. His hands were frozen over his pack, holding his father's map that he had been about to tuck away.

"Hunith," he said, surprised. "I …" He trailed off, unable to deny her accusation.

She stood in her long woollen nightdress, a rough blanket tugged tightly around her shoulders. It was dark in the room, but the little bit of moonlight that illuminated it was enough to show him that she looked disappointed.

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

Balinor sighed. "Hunith, you know it's not safe here for you or me if I stay right now."

Word had reached Ealdor that King Uther had set up an agreement with King Cendred. Camelot knights, accompanied by the land's lord, were allowed to search the towns bordering Camelot in search for fugitives of a magical persuasion. There had even been a whisper about a Dragonlord with a high bounty on his head.

It was enough to send Balinor into a panic, albeit a private one. He couldn't talk to Jonas about it, as Jonas didn't know and he didn't want to put Jonas into a difficult position. And it broke his heart knowing that he was putting Hunith into such danger.

There was only one thing he could do: sneak off into the night without telling anyone, and leaving no trail. It was what was best for him and for all those who were involved with him.

Hunith asked sadly, "Were you even going to say good bye?"

"I wrote a letter," Balinor said quietly, head hanging shamefully. The worst part of his plan was that he looked cowardly, but since he felt that way he supposed it was fitting. He just couldn't do it to her face because he knew he'd never make it out that door.

"Don't go."

Balinor looked up at her and sighed. "There is no other choice."

"There is," Hunith said, walking up to him determinedly. He tried to step back from her but she wouldn't allow it. Her tiny hands grasped at his arm. "I've seen it."

Balinor frowned. "A dream?"

"Just now," she said. "It woke me and I knew you were leaving."

Balinor sighed. Now would be a perfectly inconvenient time for her to have a glimpse into their future, right when he was so resolved to leave.

"Hunith, you don't know if it'll be true," he said gently, trying not to upset her.

She had a set look about her, which he'd only seen once or twice before but he was well aware it meant she wasn't going to giving in. "You don't even know what it is!"

"All right, Hunith," he indulged, suddenly feeling very tired. "What is it?"

"Leave tomorrow night. Hide in the woods for two nights. Then come home."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

She nodded firmly. "When you come back here, everything will be resolved. You won't have to fear or hide."

"How? Why?"

She sighed. "I'm -- well, I'm not sure."

"Hunith."

"Listen to me, Balinor!" she pleaded. "You don't have to leave us."

"You, and Jonas, and the other villagers will be just fine without me. You've managed before."

"And what of your child?"

Balinor took a sharp intake of breath. His eyes went as wide as a full moon hanging in the sky. He glanced down at her belly, where one of her hands now rested. Looking back up at him she gave a tentative smile.

"My -- what?"

"Don't leave us," Hunith implored again. "Our baby will need you. I need you."

Balinor was in such shock he dropped down to his knees in front of her. His large hands rested on her slim hips, pulling her forward. He rested his forehead on her belly and closed his eyes. Her fingers stroked through his hair.

Hunith said softly, "Please trust me."

"Okay," he said, nodding. "I do. I'll do as you ask."

"Thank you."

Balinor stood up and pulled her into a hug, trying to be carefully because he didn't want to squish the baby. But she squeezed him back hard, clinging to him as if that would keep him near. He wished he could reassure her that he wasn't going to go anywhere, not that he knew this; he wished he could take back the last five minutes and she never knew he was going to leave.

But he wasn't, anymore, there was no way he could. Not without Hunith and not without his child.

Hunith took his hand in hers and led them back to their bed to sleep the rest of the night.

**

Lord Thomas sat up high on his horse, looking down at the villagers. He wasn't very old, no older then Hunith herself, but he had a very mean look to him. He was rough around the edges, and there was a glint to his eye that could make the toughest peasant in the village nervous. It was the first time he'd come to Ealdor in months; he usually sent others in his stead to collect taxes or food.

With him were a handful of knights from Camelot, their red capes flapping in the brisk wind. They had been through the huts in the village, upturning them in search for magical evidence or possible fugitives.

From the sneer on the Lord's face, it seemed as though nothing had been found. And that would not bode well for a report to Cendred, who was trying to get back onto the right side of powerful King Uther.

"We're looking for a man!" Lord Thomas called out. "It was believed he headed in the direction of Ealdor."

Just at that moment, William decided to run out of the Hunith's hut and onto the main path. She caught him just before Lord Thomas's startled horse trampled him.

"Woman!" Lord Thomas bellowed, looking down at her with a sneer. "Control your child."

"Yes, my lord," she said. She hugged William to her, cradling the back of his head as he buried his face into her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Jonas make a move but Orland held him back.

Lord Thomas asked, voice cruel, "Where is your man?"

"In the fields," she said loudly, her head held high. She wanted everyone to hear her; for them to be reminded how Balinor contributed to the village, even if he hadn't been seen since the night before.

Lord Thomas looked bored with her explanation. He urged his horse forward, slowly riding along and looking at each of the villagers, as if trying to find their secrets.

The noble knights did not seem that impressed with Lord Thomas, despite the show he was trying to put on. One of them spoke up before Lord Thomas was able to continue. "We're looking for a man," the knight said loudly. He slowly looked around, his gaze steadily taking in the faces of the villagers. "He is wanted by King Uther. His name is Balinor."

There was a slight murmur amongst the people there and that caught the attention of the knight. Hunith closed her eyes and prayed.

She was shocked when Orland stepped forward. "We knew a Balinor."

The knight questioned, "Knew?"

Orland nodded. "He was a strange fellow that arrived a few months back."

The knight perked up. "Yes? And did he move on?"

Orland said, "He's dead."

There was a pause for a moment and Hunith held her breath as she looked at the other villagers standing around. They all knew that Balinor wasn't actually dead, but would they play along with what Orland said? He pulled a lot of weight in the community, but Lord Thomas was lord and that was to be regarded above all else.

She almost sighed with relief as she saw some of the villagers nod.

Lord Thomas asked, "How'd he die?"

Jonas spoke up this time, "Charged by a wild boar. Got a tusk right into the thigh. Bled everywhere."

All the knights looked at each other, not seeming too happy with that, though they seemed to believe it. The knight nodded, "All right, then. We will report to Uther."

Lord Thomas looked disappointed.

The knights continued to look a bit further, and they asked a few more questions, but by nightfall they had moved on.

Hunith felt as though she could breathe again.

The next morning, Balinor returned to Ealdor. He entered the village carrying a small deer slung over his shoulders, and three rabbits hanging from a rope that was tied to the deer's hoof.

He was greeted by two men who gratefully took the carcasses from him. Orland walked up to him and clapped his hand firmly on his shoulder. Balinor looked a bit bewildered as Orland walked away.

Hunith rushed up to Balinor and threw her arms around his neck. "Is everything okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Yes, it is," Hunith said. She pulled Balinor down for a kiss. When it broke, she smiled and said, "Welcome home, Balinor."

**

Balinor and Hunith learned very early on that there was something special about their son Merlin.

Being his parents, they had an unconditional love for him, of course, and he was a happy baby with a wide smile and big curious blue eyes. As soon as he could make gurgling sounds, he was content to 'talk' all day long.

It also seemed that Merlin had a tendency to make things happen whenever he wanted to. Balinor knew it was magic and it was unlike anything he'd ever encountered before. Merlin was much too young to understand what he was doing -- it was purely instinctual and elemental. For his parents, it was completely worrisome.

It first happened one evening when Balinor and Orland were sitting at the table in Balinor and Hunith's hut. They were discussing an illness that one of the villagers had just recovered from. At the other end, Hunith had Merlin, only seven months old, resting on the table top before her. She was swaddling him, preparing him to go down for the night. It was one of the few times Merlin caused a fuss, as he hated being wrapped up so tightly, but Hunith knew it was for the best so the boy's little body would grow properly.

Merlin was all tucked in and Hunith placed her hand across his belly so she could reach behind and not fear the baby rolling about. Even before she turned back to him, she knew something was different. Her hand was no longer resting on the material of the blanket but was against smooth baby skin. Looking down at Merlin, she saw he was no longer wrapped, the blanket spread out at his sides as it had been when Hunith begun. His arms and legs were flailing about and he squealed in delight at his freedom.

Hunith glanced over at the two men and it seemed the baby had caught their attention. Balinor's stared at his son -- he had noticed the difference.

Orland was looking too. He rubbed absently at the scar on his cheek. "You know what they say about a baby like that, don't you?" he mused.

Balinor gulped. "Like what?"

"Fidgety," Orland supplied. "Difficult to discipline in manners."

"Oh." Balinor sighed in relief. He exchanged a significant look with Hunith. "We're going to do fine."

Hunith hoped that much was true. But it didn't relieve her worry much at the moment.

**

Orland passed on in the second winter after Merlin's birth.

Balinor had done all he could for the old man, and aside from performing a ritual of the old religion (which Balinor would never do), there were no other options. It was a sad time for Balinor as he counted Orland as one of his few true friends.

They never discussed Balinor's past or his magic ability but Balinor suspected that Orland knew. Orland was an old man who remembered the way it used to be, when magic was revered and not something to misuse, abuse or fear. He kept Balinor's secret and, without saying as much, tried to keep Balinor and his family safe.

Balinor felt a strong loss in Orland's death and it weighed down heavily on him -- as did the renewed fear that he hadn't felt in years. It always had a place in the back of his mind, though it had dimmed after becoming so comfortable with his life in Ealdor. But after Orland was gone, and the villagers started looking to Old Man Simmons for advice and as a leader, Balinor began to worry.

Simmons was not on the side of magic, and preferred to follow the laws set out by lord and king. Cendred's kingdom was making headway towards peaceful relations with Camelot and that meant adopting similar ideas when it came to magic. It had started years ago with the battle against the dragons, and now that hatred and fear was beginning to be passed down to anything magical.

In Ealdor, they had heard about the pyre built for the seers Cendred kept. How the black smoke and smell of charred flesh had filled the air of the castle and surrounding town.

That night, Balinor had held Hunith close to him and she shook in his arms as she cried.

Since Orland had died, Simmons had regarded Balinor suspiciously. Though, with no proof of anything, and with Balinor's continuous contributions to the community, nothing had been done or said against Balinor or his family. Yet.

But with Merlin's growing number of displays of unconscious magic, it was increasingly difficult to remain in the villages good graces.

**

Balinor threw his hands up in the air with exasperation. "This is ridiculous!"

Jonas stood calmly beside him, elbows leaned on top of the fence. A shaft of wheat rested between two teeth and stuck out of his mouth. "It's the law," he answered, wheat bouncing in the air with his words.

"Then how come I don't have to go?" Balinor countered.

"You're dead, aren't you?' Jonas asked rhetorically. Glancing over at Balinor, he added, "As far as they're concerned. How're you to go to battle when you don't exist?"

It wasn't ever a subject they broached but they both knew the answer to it.

Balinor looked at the ground, feeling embarrassed. "But … I should have to go, too. It doesn't seem fair. Not to you, not to the other men."

A conscript had been put forth to the able young men in Ealdor to go and fight for Lord Thomas. Cendred and Uther had been in talks to iron out a peace treaty but there was continued dispute over some border territory. There was to be a battle to decide the lines.

"Tell me," Jonas said, breaking the silence. "If we would've turned you over that day, what would've happened to you?"

Balinor answered immediately, and honestly, "I would've been executed."

Jonas' eyebrows rose. "Really?"

Balinor nodded. Jonas probed, "Why?"

"I can't explain the King's reasoning." That was truthful too, even if not the whole explanation.

Jonas hummed while he thought. "You're still young, Balinor. Be thankful you don't have to go and fight. I've been before and it's not pleasant."

"You have?" Balinor asked, surprised.

"Yes," Jonas nodded. "Long before William was born. I was maybe your age and how I survived I'll never know." Jonas snorted, and shook his head. "At least I still have my chain mail from then. I'm pretty sure Lord Thomas won't equip us so generously. I think I'll take my own pitch fork, just in case he doesn't give us weapons."

Balinor said more determinedly, "I'm going."

"No," Jonas said. His gaze levelled with Balinor's, just as determined. "You will stay in Ealdor. You will take care of your wife and your son." Jonas clapped Balinor on the shoulder. "And I would be honoured if you would take care of William for me while I'm gone."

"Of course I will. You needn't even ask."

"I do ask that, if something should happen to me--"

"--Jonas, don't."

Jonas held up his hands. "No, wait, Balinor," he said. "This is something we must discuss. It could happen. And if it does, I would like you and Hunith to take him in, if you felt you could handle another mouth to feed? I know it's a lot to ask but I have no other family he could go to. Who better than my best mate?"

Balinor was quiet for a moment. "I promise you, Jonas. I would take the very best care of him."

Jonas said seriously, "I know you would, Balinor." But then he smiled, past the seriousness of the situation. "But you needn't worry, I'll be back and I'll have grand war stories to fill your innocent ears!"

Balinor laughed along with Jonas but he didn't feel it in his heart.

He couldn't stop thinking about his mate Jonas going to battle; it brought up many memories of his own. When he went to sleep that evening, his dreams were filled with them.

**

Camelot was at war with magic.

In the time after the death of Queen Ygrain, and the birth of Prince Arthur, times had changed drastically within Camelot. Magic was no longer welcome, hated and feared and the use of it cost lives. The war against magic had taken on a name -- Great Purge. King Uther was doing all he could to rid Camelot of magic, to expel it, extinguish it forever.

Balinor hadn't used magic in well over a year; not since two weeks after the death of the Queen. Not since the first wave of the Purge had begun. He had been confused and afraid but Gaius had been a support for him. To run would only show his guilt and Gaius said as long as they followed the new laws and did not perform magic they would be safe.

But then eight moons ago, the campaign against the dragons had begun.

The dangerous beasts posed a great threat to the kingdom and all its subjects -- or so that is what they were told. All the kingdoms in Albion agreed; kings who used to use dragons to attack each other now wanted to eliminate that threat completely, have everyone on equal ground.

Balinor stood in Gaius' chambers, staring out the window, thoughts lost in how his life had changed. He jumped, startled, when the doors to Gaius' chambers opened. He no longer knew how to relax; he was always afraid, always on guard.

But it was only Gaius. Balinor tensed as he saw Gaius' grim expression.

"Balinor," Gaius said, quietly. He sighed and Balinor thought he looked ten years older then he should've. "The king has requested your presence."

Balinor closed his eyes, heart beating rapidly.

At Gaius' announcement, Balinor blanched and his palms became clammy. He rubbed them on his breeches. When he tried to speak, his cracked voice only let out a squeak. He coughed and tried again. "Now?"

Gaius answered solemnly, "Immediately."

Balinor took in a deep breath. "Then let's go."

Gaius shook his head, brow furrowed in concern. "He asked for you only."

Balinor found he had been holding his breath and forced himself to breathe. He suspected his safety, and luck, had lasted as long as it had because he was under Gaius' care. The king still trusted Gaius and Gauis supported him during these trying times. Balinor knew that was what was keeping him safe; as much as he wanted to flee Camelot, he trusted Gaius and took his advice to stay.

However, Balinor was not too sure about the king but Balinor knew he could not disobey Uther.

He took his leave of the court physician's chambers, his mentor giving him a parting supportive smile. Balinor tried to muster up a reassuring one but found it fell flat. He himself did not feel particularly reassured.

Balinor walked down the long corridors by himself. It was a terrifying journey that played with his mind. He swore that maids and servants avoided meeting his eyes and that the guards glared at him suspiciously. He even expected knights to jump out from behind tapestries and arrest him on the spot to drag him off to the executioner's block.

He arrived at the throne room physically safe, if not emotionally wrecked. The two guards outside pushed the doors open. One barked out an announcement, "Balinor of Camelot, Dragonlord."

Balinor cringed.

The king was seated on his throne. Balinor thought the large, elegant room looked empty now, missing the smaller, beautifully carved throne that used to be at that one's side.

The only other people in the room, besides the king, were two knights and Geoffrey, the court record-keeper. The king was briefing a piece of parchment and didn't even look at Balinor as he approached and knelt lowly, hand brushing the ground in front of him.

He remained that way, daring to look up through the fringe of his dark hair. Finally, the king handed the parchment to Geoffrey, who bowed his head and told Uther he would return later with more reports. The king dismissed him and finally looked at Balinor.

"Rise, Dragonlord."

Balinor winced as he rose off his knees.

Uther saw. "Are you shamed to be a Dragonlord?"

Balinor thought carefully before answering. "It is not that, my lord. But I am only an apprentice to the court's physician now."

Uther smiled coolly. "Clever answer, Balinor." He assessed the seventeen year old carefully. "And if your King needs a Dragonlord?"

Balinor's surprised gaze met Uther's stately one. "Sire?"

"You have obeyed my orders exceptionally well," Uther said. "This has not gone unnoticed."

When the attacks against the dragons began, the Dragonlords had not been informed; after, it was believed that the King did not trust them and no longer held them in his favour. It was the knights who were sent out to kill the dragons, brandishing their steel.

Balinor would never forget the day he found out about it. No one knew yet, save for those close to the King who were privileged with such secrets. The knights had returned to the castle, full of malicious cheer for their victory, carrying parts of the Gold Dragon through the lower town and up to the palace.

Her large golden wings were hung from the battlements, spread wide like a victory banner. Her tail hung down between the wings, sun glinting off the golden scales.

It was the first time Balinor wept since the same tail circled him in her protective care.

Afterwards, the decree came down forbidding Dragonlords involvement in the war against the dragons. Any who opposed, or who assisted the dragons -- and there were quite a few, at first -- were sentenced to death. Over the next months, bounty hunters brought their cages into town, dragging in known Dragonlords who fled other kingdoms where similar decrees were passed down from their own rulers. There was always the claim that the rogue Dragonlords were impeding the war and helping the dragons. The hunters got their satchels of gold and the Dragonlords lost their heads.

All the while, Balinor stayed in Camelot, under the protective eye of Gaius. He didn't perform magic and he hadn't seen a dragon since the dead one that hung as a reminder to all. It ate at his insides everyday, slowly sucking the life out of him

Now, Uther sat in front of him, intimidating with the power of life and death over Balinor. But the King had noticed his obedience and that may have paid off.

"I would like this war against the dragons to end," Uther said. "I would like for there to be peace."

Balinor looked at him, a bit of hope blossoming in his chest amongst the despair. "My lord? How -- what --" He had no idea what to say, what to ask for.

Finally, a small smile graced Uther's face. "I need to speak with the Great Dragon. You will bring him to me."

Balinor blinked rapidly, surprised. "M -- me, sire?" Balinor asked, stuttering.

"I have sent three other Dragonlords," Uther answered. "Each in a different direction. You will travel north."

Balinor nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"Bring the dragon back to Camelot and this will be over."

Balinor smiled, through a small one, for the first time in days. "Yes, my lord." He stood in spot, as he had not yet been dismissed.

King Uther sat in his thrown, one elbow on the rest. His chin was perched on his hand, thumb rubbing thoughtfully at his jaw. His eyes bore into Balinor. The boy shifted on his feet under the pin of Uther's stare.

"You have never been dispatched for battle." It was a statement, not a question.

Balinor shook his head. "No." There had only been about a year between when his training as a full-fledged Dragonlord has started and when the laws and changes when the Great Purge begun, when Uther turned his battles within his own kingdom instead of against others.

King Uther nodded. He gestured to the two knights in the room with them. "They will accompany you on this journey." When Balinor looked at Uther again, he saw fire and steel in his eyes. "They will make sure you do not defy your king."

"I will do as you command," Balinor reassured. He would not act against the King if it meant a chance at peace.

"Be sure that you do," Uther said. With a wave of a hand, Balinor was dismissed.

Balinor bowed deeply and took his leave, followed by the two knights. He left with the hope in his heart that he would be able to help change the way things had become.

**

Will stood in the hut, right by the open fire in the middle of it. He stared into the flames, unflinching as they crackled. He was six years old, and despite being in a hut with other people, he was feeling incredibly lonely.

"Will?" Hunith came up to him, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. "I think it's bedtime now."

He looked at her. "Where will I sleep?" he asked, a bit gruffly.

Balinor answered. "I've prepared a sleep roll by Merlin's pen."

Will didn't answer Balinor. It wasn't that he didn't usually like Balinor, because most of the time he did. He might only be young but he understood what friends were and he knew his father was mates with Balinor. He knew his father trusted Balinor with his life and with his son -- Jonas had told William that before he left him there that very day.

Will's father had left him behind so he could go and fight and be noble and brave. Will knew that it was what a good man was supposed to do.

But he didn't like it.

And he didn't like Balinor very much right now either.

William looked up at Hunith, who had always been there for him, who he'd always liked. Who was like a mother to him (even though Balinor was not like a father.)

"Do I have to?"

She nodded gently. "I think it's a good idea. It's been a long day for you."

He was glad she didn't mention the crying. It had embarrassed Will but at least it hadn't happened until his father was gone. His father didn't need to see his son acting like a little girl.

Balinor gave Will space and it was Hunith that helped prepare Will for bed. She took a cloth and dipped it in a bowl of water, gently wiping his face. He scowled at her and squirmed a bit, especially when she moved to his hands and tugged at his fingers. He didn't put up too much of a fuss although he wanted to. Mostly, he just felt very tired.

There was a bedroll on the ground atop a pile of hay. It was right beside Merlin's wooden pen. Merlin was three years old now and too big for a cradle but Hunith told Will it was to help keep Merlin safe while his parents slept for the night

When Hunith and Will approached the little area set aside for the boys, Merlin's eyes popped open as if he'd never been asleep.

Merlin said, smiling, "Will!"

At one time, Will had been right chuffed that Merlin's third word had been 'Will', right after 'Mama' and 'Da.' It had quickly progressed to 'Will-mum' after Will had tried to teach him his full name. Merlin would waddle around after him, yelling, 'Will-mum, Will-mum', much to Will's dismay. After, Will had convinced Merlin just to call him Will.

Hunith tucked Will under a blanket and brushed a quick kiss on his forehead. She reached down and rubbed Merlin's back soothingly, softly telling him to go back to sleep. Merlin automatically closed his eyes and Hunith left the boys.

As soon as they were alone, Merlin's eyes opened again. "Hi, Will."

Will glanced over at him. "Hi."

Merlin was on his stomach, big blue eyes staring at Will. His little wooden dragon toy was lying on its side near him. Merlin reached one arm through the wooden rails. "Will here."

"Yeah, I'm here," he said.

"No, Will. Here." Merlin patted the little patch of dirt that separated Merlin's pen from Will's straw.

Will snorted. "I'm not sleeping right next to you." He rolled over so that he was facing away from the other boy. "Go to sleep, Merlin."

It was quiet for a moment and Will thought that perhaps Merlin had listened to him. But then Will found that he was being dragged backwards across the floor. His body froze, back tense and limbs still. The hay was moving along with him.

Finally he stopped and there was a small hand patting him on the shoulder.

Will turned over and he saw the fleeting flash of gold fading in Merlin's eyes. Not that Will was at all surprised or alarmed with what had just happened. He knew sometimes Merlin did things he shouldn't do but Merlin never meant anything bad by it.

There was that one time when Merlin and Will had been sitting on a stone bench by the village well as Hunith fetched some water. Will and Merlin were swatting at flies -- well, Will was and Merlin was flailing his arms at nothing in particular as he copied Will.

Merlin leaned forward too much and before Will could stop him, Merlin fell from the bench, nose first.

Will leaned over in just enough time to see a translucent pillow of gold light under Merlin's body. It lasted for only a moment, and it disappeared as Merlin sank through it and barely bumped the ground with the tip of his nose.

Merlin had cried his baby head off. He wasn't hurt -- not a bloody nose or even a bruise to his body, like Will would've had if it'd happened to him. But Will supposed it was a scary thing for someone as little as Merlin to fall like that.

More recently, Will and Merlin sat under one of the wild apple trees while their fathers collected wood from the brush nearby. Will was looking up at the apples, wishing that he could reach them. They weren't really supposed to eat those apples but Will knew they were good. And the last time he tried climbing a tree, Father had yelled at him something furious, about broken necks and maybe even bees and being too little. He was told maybe next summer.

Will pointed up at the apples. "See those, Merlin?"

Merlin lifted his chin and looked up. "See 'em."

Will put his elbows on his knees and rested his head on his hands. He said glumly, "I wish I could have them."

Merlin pointed up and his fingers wiggled as if trying to grab the apples.

A few fell to the ground right in front of them. Merlin squealed with delight, laughing at the apples.

Will stared at the green orbs then glanced around. His father was in sight but he and Balinor had their heads together, bent over something and they were laughing. They hadn't noticed anything was wrong and there was no one else around.

Will picked one up and handed it to Merlin, who took it in both small hands and took a juicy bite. He smiled wide at Will as he chewed.

Will shrugged and bit into his own apple. It was the best he'd ever had.

Now, Merlin was laying next to him on the other side of the wooden rails, smiling sleepily but happily, after moving Will closer to him. Will gently removed Merlin's hand from his tunic, where little fingers had been flexing around a bunch of material.

Merlin drew his hand back and tucked it under his chin. "Will here."

"Yeah, Merlin," Will said quietly. "I'm here."

They soon fell asleep, facing each other.

**

"Father, I can do it!"

Balinor's breath caught in his chest as he looked down at his four year old son. Merlin was sitting in a large pail of water, legs drawn up so he could fit right. It had been a couple weeks since a proper bath, and after he and Will had been jumping around in the spring mud, it was desperately needed.

Merlin had pouted at the prospect of a bath and complained the whole time it was being prepared for him but once he was in he had stopped struggling.

"What do you mean?" Balinor asked.

"Don't need your help," Merlin said. He raised an arm in the air, his fingers wiggling as he tried to grab for the cloth. "I'll wash myself."

Balinor sighed a bit of relief and handed it to him. "Sure, Merlin."

Balinor had been so worried because the last time they'd tried to give Merlin a bath he had pouted and complained the same way. And before they could even get him into it, Merlin suddenly appeared clean. He wasn't wet, and he hadn't gotten into the tub, but he was thoroughly clean and had a beaming smile.

Hunith had said weakly, "At least we don't have to struggle?"

Balinor had shook his head. "He can't be doing that."

"I know," Hunith agreed. "But how are we supposed to make him realise that?"

They had explained to him that the proper way to have a bath was in a tub with water or being washed down with a cloth. Merlin had listened to them as he always did when they tried to explain why he couldn't use his magic. He promised, childlike, that he would have a bath the right way forever and ever.

Balinor always worried about anything that Merlin claimed 'I can do myself!' but Hunith tried to reassure him it was because he was a growing boy who was discovering the world and who could do things on his own – they just had to guide him to make sure he did them the proper way.

Merlin dragged the wet cloth over his arms and shoulders and up over his face. He scrubbed his hair with it. He seemed very determined to show Balinor he could do it and he could do it right.

"Father?" Merlin asked as he cleaned behind one of his ears. "Will's very sad today."

Balinor nodded. "Yes. Yes, he's very sad."

"Is his real father ever coming home?"

"No, Merlin," Balinor said, voice choked a bit though he tried to remain strong. "No, Merlin, he's not."

It had been a joyful day in Ealdor, in some ways; in others, it had been an incredibly sad one. A few of the men that had left all those many months ago to fight had finally come home. They looked thin and worn, shells of the men who had left, but they were home.

Except that not all of them had returned.

A man named David handed a bundle to Balinor, eyes sad. "Jonas wanted Will to have this," he said. "You should clean it properly before giving it to him."

Balinor heard the whole story from David but he knew he wouldn't tell William until he was old enough to understand. It had not gone very easily for Jonas and it tore at Balinor; his son didn't need to know the gory details.

But he needed to know. Balinor wasn't sure how to tell a seven year old that his father wouldn't be returning. It had been hard for Balinor to take such news about his own father when he was a young man. He couldn't imagine how it would feel to have lost both parent's by Will's age.

But Balinor had done his best. Will sat on Hunith's lap, eagerly looking at Balinor as he'd heard that there were some men that had returned to the village. He asked when he father was going to be back too.

Balinor explained to him that Jonas wasn't ever coming back. And Will was going to be staying with them, now, and permanently.

Will had yelled at Balinor, called him a liar. He fidgeted out of Hunith's arms and when Balinor tried to stop him from running away, Will's little arms swung wildly. Feeling helpless, Balinor let him go but Hunith caught him up in her arms again. He didn't struggle against her but buried his head in her neck and sobbed.

William was not very happy with Balinor at the given moment and Hunith was having to deal with the mess of a child's broken heart.

So Balinor helped give Merlin a bath and had to explain again to another young boy. Merlin wouldn't take it as badly but he was already full of concern for Will.

Balinor told Merlin, "William will be staying with us now."

"He already stays with us."

"But now he's going to permanently."

"What's that?"

"It means … he'll be staying with us and not going with anyone else."

"Sort of like forever and ever?" Merlin asked, big eyes staring up at his father.

Balinor smiled softly. "Something like that."

Merlin nodded, as if he understood. "Okay," Merlin said. "Are you his father now?" Merlin smiled widely. "Is he my brother? Do I have a brother?"

"Well …" Balinor had no idea how to answer this question. He really didn't want to make presumptions on that -- it was too soon to tell how Will felt about this family now. "When Will is feeling better, maybe we'll see what he says."

Merlin's smile faltered a little but he nodded. "Okay. I hope he feels better soon."

"Me too. But we'll do what we can to take care of him, right?"

Merlin nodded firmly. "Right!"

Balinor smiled. "All right, son. Time to get out of the bath," he said as he grabbed a large cloth to dry Merlin with.

Merlin stood up, dripping wet, and held out his hand. "I can do it!"

Balinor snorted and handed it over.

**

Will was sad. Will was sad, and angry, and he wanted everyone to leave him alone.

Hunith had tried to give him some supper but he wasn't hungry. She wanted him to have a bath but he was very against the idea. For once, she didn't make him. Balinor tried to talk to him again but Will had put his fingers in his ears, shook his head violently, and refused to listen. Balinor looked very sad too but he left William alone after that.

Without being told, William went to lay down in his bedroll atop a pile of hay, which he now shared with Merlin. He was still covered in mud from when he had been playing outside with Merlin; it had dried and was cracking on his skin, starting to peel. He absently picked some off as he stared at the roof.

Merlin came and sat beside him. Will ignored him and turned away.

Merlin said, in an unusually quiet voice, "I'm sorry you're sad."

"Go away, Merlin."

Of course, Merlin didn't listen. He never listened to Will.

Merlin said, "I have something for you."

Will turned over to yell at him, even if it wasn't nice but he didn't care right now, but then he stopped when he saw Merlin's outstretched arm.

In the palm of his hand there was a green apple.

Will frowned. It was spring and the apples weren't ready yet. Merlin shouldn't have a fresh apple for him.

"Merlin," Will said, sitting up. He stared at Merlin's hand. "Where did you get that?"

Merlin bit his lower lip, suddenly looking nervous. He whispered, "I don't know." He shook his head. "You like apples. It just happened. Don't tell Mother or Father."

Will reached out and took the apple from Merlin. Balinor and Hunith didn't like it when Merlin did things like that and he would probably be yelled at if they knew. Will didn't really want Merlin to be yelled at, so he knew he wouldn't say anything.

"You're my brother now," Merlin stated. He stood up and smiled at Will. "If you want."

With that, Merlin darted away, running outside and calling for his mother. Will could hear Hunith yell at him to stay out of mud puddles before bed.

Will bit into his apple. This one was the best one he'd ever had.

**

It was night and both boys were sleeping. Balinor and Hunith were lying in their bed. It was small and narrow and a tight fit, but they'd made it work for years. They were side by side, facing each other and Balinor's arms were around his wife. She had an arm around his waist and her forehead pressed against his broad chest.

Balinor whispered, "Do you think William will be okay?"

Hunith sighed. "I think it'll be hard for him for a while but we'll look after him."

One of Balinor's hands stroked over Hunith's loose hair. He loved her hair though it was usually tied back and under a kerchief during the day. "I don't think he'll like me anymore."

"He might be a bit standoffish," Hunith agreed. He liked that she never kept back what she was really thinking from him, even if it did cause them to butt heads over some subjects. She was strong and had her opinions, especially when it came to the boys, but she always respected Balinor enough to tell him the truth. And he loved her for it. She continued, "But with time, he'll understand better."

"I don't know," Balinor replied. "It's hard for a boy to ever understand why their father died. No matter how much time passes."

Hunith leaned back a little bit so that she could stretch her neck up, lips brushing the stubble on the underside of Balinor's chin. One of her dainty yet calloused hands cupped his cheek.

"What happened?" Hunith asked, a bit hesitantly. "When your father died?"

Balinor paused for a moment, his hand still absently stroking through her hair. "Well," he started. "I met a dragon. And then I had an audience with the King and Queen."

Hunith was quiet for a moment. Then, she asked, "Will you tell me about it?"

Balinor pressed a kiss to her forehead, weighing her question. It was a part of his life that he never felt he could share, given the circumstances. But he trusted Hunith completely, and if there was anyone he could tell his stories to, it was her. Her, and hopefully someday, his son.

"I will," he answered. His whispered words wound through the night air and he began to tell her his own story.

**

It was the day that Balinor found out his father had died. And he'd fallen asleep on a stream bank. Where there was a dragon.

There was a bright light that woke Balinor up from his fitful sleep. He rolled over and blinked slowly, feeling drowsy. He glanced around and didn't know where he was. When he caught a glimpse of bright gold scales, he remembered.

He looked up and he could see her looking down at him, amused.

"You slept a long time," she said, voice ringing though the air.

Glancing at the sky, he could see that the sun was starting to sink behind the trees. He had been in the forest for much longer then he intended.

"Um. I was tired."

"So it would seem," she said. She stood up onto her legs, her tail snaking back; he could see it wave through the air above her head. She unfurled her wings and they spanned out at great lengths at her sides. She was stretching, and it was accompanied by a yawn; he almost felt as if he was going to be sucked up into her large mouth as she did. His jacket flapped forward around him, his hair ruffling as she took in air, but he didn't move off the ground.

When she was done, he took his cue from her. He stood up and stretched his arms, arching his back to try to get the kinks out after falling asleep on the ground.

She brought her head down to the ground, turned to one side so that he was standing next to her great big eye. He looked directly into it, blinking as he watched her.

"You will have a great legacy."

He gaped for a second and then raised his eyebrows. He said, a bit sarcastically, "That's not the first time I've heard that."

She snorted, the reeds at the bank's edge bending under her breath. "Then be sure you heed it."

She pulled her head back up, though looked down at him. He had to tilt his head far back to look up at her.

"Can you tell the future?" he asked.

"You know the answer to that, young Dragonlord."

"You can't," he answered. She was reading into his soul but not the future as a whole. "Why can't you?"

"The future is not carved in stone. Choices will not be made until they are made but they all lead to one's destiny."

He blinked. "I heard you lot were awfully cryptic."

She chuckled, the sound deep within her chest and made the ground vibrate ever so slightly under Balinor's boots. "We know what we know but no one knows everything."

Balinor sighed. "Is this what I have to look forward to for a lifetime?"

She cocked her head to the side, eyes boring deeply into him. "I do not know."

"Well," he said. "That's unsettling."

"It is what it is." She started to flap her wings, stirring dust with the great beat of them. She rose off the ground a few feet, hovering above him. "Time to return to the castle, young Dragonlord. You are being missed."

She started to rise higher in the air, and Balinor called out to her. "Will I see you again?"

She looked over her shoulder and down at him. Her large, pointed teeth were bared in what Balinor could only interpret as a smile -- though, a rather terrifying looking one. "I shall be around. I'm always around."

He watched her fly away and once she'd disappeared from sight he started his walk back to the castle. His heart was still heavy with the news of his father but it felt elated with the experience he just had. It was what carried his feet home. His emotions were so mixed he wasn't sure how to sort them out.

Entering Gaius' chambers, he felt shamed when he saw the physician looking worriedly at him. He remembered yelling at Gaius and then running away. It was not a proper way for a young man to act.

"Balinor!" Gaius said, coming over to him. He placed his hands on his shoulders, squeezing. "Are you all right? You look a state!"

Balinor glanced down at his clothes, which were caked with the wet dirt he'd fallen asleep in. "I'm fine," Balinor said. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

"Nonsense," Gaius said, waving a hand. "I'm just glad you're back."

Balinor nodded. "Yes. I just needed to -- I don't know." He shrugged helplessly. "Just -- go."

Gaius nodded. "You don't need to explain to me. It's been a difficult day for you. It was terrible to hear the news of Ector."

Balinor gulped, trying to push down the knot that caught in his throat. "Yes," he said. "It was. If it's all right with you, I'll clean up and go to bed now." Even though he'd slept the afternoon away, he was feeling rather tired again.

"Cleaning up would be a good idea," Gaius agreed. "However, you've been called to see Uther."

Balinor looked up, startled. "The King? Why? What's wrong?"

Gaius held up his hands. "Not to worry, not to worry. Uther likes to speak with all new Dragonlords. Or to find out if you are, indeed, a Dragonlord." Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Do you know if--"

Balinor nodded. "Oh, yes. I certainly am. It's been tested."

Gaius made an affirmative noise in the back of his throat. "That is a story that I would like to hear. But, come now. Clean up and we'll take you to the King."

Within a short time, Balinor found himself cleaned, in a fresh set of clothing, and standing before the King and Queen of Camelot.

King Uther was a strong young man. He wore clothes of the finest cloth and material, and his dark leather vest was studded with gold buttons. Gold rings adorned his fingers, some with large jewels, and silver chains with large pendants hung from his neck. Atop his head was a golden crown. Balinor had heard more than one of the maids remark on how handsome the King was, even with the new reddish scar that marked his forehead. Balinor thought the battle wound made him look more fierce.

Sitting in the throne beside him was the young and lovely Queen Ygraine. She was small and delicate, with soft features. Her hair, like spun gold, was swept up to the back of her head, with a couple of curls cascading down her shoulders. She wore a gown of pale yellow, like that of a setting sun. Queen Ygraine was known throughout the kingdom for her sweet smile and her kindness towards all subjects.

All of Camleot was proud to have the young, handsome couple as their sovereigns. It created joy throughout the kingdom and they were much beloved.

Balinor approached the thrones, bowing deeply, hand sweeping the ground in front of him. As he stood up straight, he greeted them, "Your Majesties."

"Balinor, son of Ector," King Uther said. "We have heard reports of your father today."

Queen Ygraine placed a small hand atop of Uther's and he squeezed it in his large one. She addressed Balinor, voice full of sympathy. "We're so sorry to hear of your loss."

"Thank you," Balinor said, bowing his head at her.

The King said, "It is a travesty, to hear of the shameful way his life was taken."

Balinor nodded, "Yes, my lord. It is."

Gaius had told Balinor what had become of his father. Ector was in a battle against another king's Dragonlord. Ector followed the Code of the Dragonlords and obeyed all the rules. He was the victor in the battle between the two dragons; after he was declared so, he released the hold he'd managed over both the dragons. It was the rule of the battle -- once it was over, the dragons were to be released to their natural state in the wild.

The other Dragonlord, shamed that he had lost, took control of one of the dragons at the last moment, ordering it to attack Ector. The power over the dragon was too strong and it could not resist. It had attacked and killed Ector at the other Dragonlord's command. He hadn't the chance to defend himself in the sneak attack.

The other Dragonlord was sentenced to death for his part in Ector's passing. The dragon he forced to commit the act was the one who was allowed to carry out the punishment.

King Uther said to Balinor, "Your father was an honourable man. Even without the use of magic, he was one of the greatest Dragonlords there ever was."

Balinor nodded. "Yes, my lord."

King Uther looked quizzically at Balinor. "And your father's gift? Has it passed down? I do believe that is the way."

"I am here to report that, indeed, my father's gift has passed down to me."

King Uther nodded. "Then you will begin your training on the morrow."

"Yes, my lord," Balinor answered. "I look forward to someday serving your armies as well as my father has in the past."

Queen Ygraine spoke. "We know it is with great sadness that this responsibility is passed to you," she said. Her smile was soft and kind. "You have my deepest sympathy during this time."

"My Queen is right," Uther said. He smiled at her, and looked back at Balinor. "You have both our sympathies, of course. I hope your training will help you through this difficult time. If you are in need of help, make sure you speak with your mentor."

"I will, my lord," Balinor said strongly. He refused to let himself break before the King and Queen. "Thank you for your kind words."

King Uther smiled at him. "We look forward in seeing how you develop. You are our youngest Dragonlord but we will be keeping an eye on your future."

"Thank you, sire," Balinor said. "I hope I do not disappoint."

**

After Jonas' death, Balinor did what he could to be a source of strength for his all of his family. William included, for Balinor thought of him as more than a ward but as a son. He vowed he would do all he could to provide support to his fallen friend's son.

A few days after they found out about Jonas, Balinor went down to the creek. He carried the package that David had brought to him for William.

He placed it on the ground and untied the strip of cloth that held the blanket wrapped around it. Opening it up, he saw the silver of chainmail glinting in the sun.

Picking it up, he saw that it was worse for wear. There was mud and dirt caught between many of the links. Blood was congealed where the mail had been pierced through. Balinor swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked at the damage that had caused Jonas' death.

He cleaned it in the water, making sure to get rid of dirt and mud and blood. He laid it over a fence so that the sun would dry it properly and not rust.

Balinor remembered the day that he received his father's chain mail. He was taught how fix and maintain it and he was expected to wear it when he went to battle too. That day never came, though he had worn it on his journey to find Kilgharrah. Gaius had given it to him when Balinor escaped Camelot and he carried it all the way to Ealdor.

Now it sat in the bottom of a chest in their hut waiting for the day that Balinor would pass it down to Merlin. And, once cleaned and Balinor was able to get the supplies to help mend it, it was joined by Jonas' to one day pass down to Will.

Balinor prayed that neither of the boys would ever have to use it.

**

Merlin and Will sat on the little crooked chairs as they watched Hunith prepare the evening meal. It was late afternoon and Balinor wasn't home from the fields yet so it wasn't quite time to eat but the boys had had a very busy afternoon of helping out with simple chores. They were only five and eight years but old enough to help and they both seemed willing, though now they looked a little tired.

Even Merlin said he was really hungry. Usually, Hunith scolded him about eating like a bird and had to encourage him to eat a bit more, even though they didn't often have a lot.

Will always liked it when Hunith said that. He would laugh and exclaim, a little meanly, "Merlin is a bird and eats wooooorms!"

Merlin would pout. "I do not!" he'd try to argue.

Will would shrug. "It's okay, Merlin. If I was hungry enough I'd eat worms too!" Then they'd run outside and dig in the dirt for some worms.

Once, Will dangled a worm over his mouth and pretended to drop it (but Merlin didn't know!) He made a big show of chewing. Merlin stood with his jaw dropped and then started to bounce up and down and yell, "That's icky!"

Will stuck out his tongue and of course there were no chewed up worms dangling off it. The boys had dissolved into a fit of giggles. Hunith herself couldn't help but laugh.

But this evening there was no joking about worms; both boys were silent as they waited. Merlin was barely big enough to see over the top of the table but his big blue eyes followed Hunith's every move.

Hunith didn't expect Merlin to be quiet for very long. Ever since he'd been able to talk, Merlin had been a very chatty boy. He often had questions galore for his parents and his big brother and they didn't always relate to each other or to what was going on around him. That afternoon was a perfect example.

"Mum?"

"Yes, dear?"

"What's your favourite animal?"

Will rolled his eyes. "How does that matter right now, Merlin? She's busy!"

Merlin scowled at him. "I was just asking!"

"Don't be dumb," Will said, sounding like the superior big brother he thought he was.

"It's okay, Will," Hunith said, placating, before Merlin could start arguing with him. "I don't mind. And I think my favourite animal is ... Hmm …" She tilted her head to the side, thinking. Smiling brightly, she answered, "Butterflies."

"Mother!" Merlin exclaimed. "Those aren't animals!"

Will put in, "Yes they are!"

But Merlin shook his head resolutely. "Nuh uh. They aren't, uh …" Merlin trailed off and rubbed his belly as if petting one of the local dogs. "Fuzzy!"

Will snorted. "Their little bodies are fuzzy, aren't they? They must be an animal."

Merlin's mouth opened and then snapped shut. Then opened again and snapped shut once more. Will looked smug. Finally, Merlin asked in a small voice, "They're really fuzzy?" He turned to Hunith. "Mum, are butterflies really fuzzy?" Without waiting for an answer he asked, "Can Will and I go and find a butterfly and check?"

"After dinner, maybe," Hunith said, throwing the last of the turnip into the cauldron.

"I'd like to get you lots of butterflies," Merlin mused. "'Cause you like them so much."

Hunith had turned around just in time to catch the unmistakable flash of gold in Merlin's eyes.

She knew that Will had seen it too. It would've been impossible to keep a secret like that from him, now that he was adopted into the family. But Will had whispered to her once about some of the terrible stories of the village's older boys liked to tell -- how magic people who got caught were burned up or hanged or sometimes even beheaded. He had told her they couldn't let that happen to Merlin.

Will might like to tease Merlin but he had a fierce protective streak for him. Will knew not to say anything and that they had to keep Merlin's secret. Hunith trusted that he would.

But now he stared at Merlin, mouth gaping. "Merlin?"

"Hm?" Merlin looked up from the table, where he'd been drawing an invisible picture with his fingertip.

Hunith asked gently, "Honey, what did you do?"

"Drew a butterfly!" he said, pointing at the table. He laughed, "But you can't see it."

In that moment, a little purple butterfly flitted in front of his face. Merlin gasped and pointed, "Look, Mother! For you."

Hunith smiled. "It's very pretty, Merlin."

Will let out a long sigh and then he mocked, "Butterflies are so girly."

Merlin scowled, "Well, it's for Mum. She's a girl!"

Will made a face back.

"Enough, boys," Hunith said. She was about to turn back to the cauldron when she spied an unusual sight outside the window. She brought her hand up to her mouth and gasped, eyes going wide.

It alerted the boys and they both scrambled off their chairs and ran to the window. Will was bigger and faster and stood blocking the way.

"By the gods!" William said, eyes as wide as the wooden wheels of a cart.

"William," Hunith scolded his blasphemy.

"Sorry," he said, though he didn't sound sincere at all. "But look at it!"

Merlin whined, "I can't see!" He was jumping up and down, trying to bump Will out of the way. When the other boy wouldn't budge, Merlin ran to the doorway.

Merlin let out a great big laugh. "Look at it!"

There was a multi-coloured cloud outside their hut. Hundreds of butterflies fluttered around. They were all different sizes – some as small as a raindrop spattered on a palm, and some had a wingspan as wide as one of Hunith's biscuits. There were big yellow ones with splattered dark dots, bright orange ones with black lines, delicate white ones that looked like soft clumps of snow falling, green ones that flew like leaves in the wind, and little tiny vibrant blue ones that matched the sky. And, of course, more purple ones like the one that had fluttered about in their hut.

Will gaped. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Merlin said insistently, still looking at the butterflies. "I did wish Mother could have lots of pretty butterflies, though." He glanced at Hunith, a wide smile on his face. "Do you like them?"

Hunith tried to force a smile to her face, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's lovely, dear," she said, not wanting to hurt his little five-year old feelings. "But I don't think all those butterflies belong here."

Merlin's smiled faltered for just a moment -- he was likely getting used to such talks about how sometimes things that happened weren't supposed to happen. She knew he never meant it as anything bad, and most the time he didn't even mean to.

He smiled brightly again. "They're just visiting," he explained. "Let's go say hello!" With that, he dashed out of the house.

Will and Hunith both went to the doorway. Will stood with his arms crossed and a disbelieving look on his face. Hunith was beside him, her hand settled on top of his head, smoothing down his hair. She was biting her lip and trying not to laugh at Merlin because it really wasn't something she should be encouraging.

The small dark-haired boy had his fists tucked into his armpits and his arms were flapping wildly as he jumped up and down. The butterflies around him flapped their own wings as if dancing with the new oversized guest to their party.

Will called out. "Merlin, what are you doing?"

Merlin continued to hop around, carefree and laughing. "Flying with them!"

"You look like a chicken!"

Merlin stopped long enough to stick his tongue out and then resumed his jumping. He yelled, "Let's see you do better, then!"

Will looked torn. Dancing around in a clump of butterflies wasn't exactly the thing he thought he should be doing. Then again, seeing Merlin do it in a way he saw as wrong appeared temping enough to go and make sure he did it right.

Will shrugged off Hunith's hand and ran onto the grass, right into the cloud of little flapping wings. His arms were extended out to the sides and it looked like he was gliding. He ran circles around Merlin. "Like this!"

Merlin shook his head. "Nu-uh. You look like a bird!"

"Do not!"

"Do so!"

It went on like that until they worked out a compromise. Their hands rested on their hips and their elbows pointed out behind them, the bottom of their bare feet turning green as they ran around in the grass. They laughed and pretended they were butterflies as real ones fluttered all around them.

**

It was poor timing that Balinor and Old Man Simmons rounded the corner right then, deep in a conversation about the weather affecting the crops.

Simmons stopped suddenly and did a double take, his jaw dropping as he watched two little boys dancing in a sea of colour.

Balinor's mouth pressed into a thin line and his jaw tensed.

Will noticed them first, stopping mid-step. His arms dropped down to his sides and his stood up straight, his eyes wide as he spotted the two men. Merlin was puzzled as to why his brother stopped and followed his gaze. When he spotted his father, his face lit up.

"Father!" Merlin yelled, giving up his pretence of being a butterfly and pumped his arms as he rushed over to Balinor. Merlin practically threw his body at Balinor and Balinor had no choice but to catch him, hauling him up. Merlin was getting a bit too old for it, his limbs a little too long, but he settled easily on Balinor's hip.

"Look, Father!" Merlin exclaimed, pointing. "They came to visit." He rested the side of his head against Balinor's cheek. "Mother likes them."

Simmons said in a tight voice, "Right, then. I'm off."

Balinor opened his mouth then snapped it shut. Finally he nodded. "Good day."

Simmons turned with a huff and walked away. Merlin glanced over Balinor's shoulder and called out, "Goodbye, Old Man Simmons."

Simmons stopped in his own steps, clenched his fists, and continued walking without so much as a glance back at Merlin.

Balinor pinched the bridge of his nose. "Merlin," he started, voice thin with patience. "What have I told you about treating elders with respect?"

"But, Father," Merlin said, brow furrowed in confusion, "I said goodbye nicely."

"Calling someone an old man isn't very nice."

"But you call him that! So does Will."

"Yes, but not--" Balinor sighed, caught by Merlin's innocence. He relented, "You're right but it isn't very nice of us. We'll be more careful."

Merlin shrugged, "Okay." He squirmed out of his father's arms and he was carefully dropped back to the ground. Merlin took off running to William.

Will laughed and called out, "What did Old Man Simmons want?"

Balinor sighed and looked passed the cloud of butterflies, meeting Hunith's eyes over the boys' heads. There would be much to discuss that night.

**

After the family had dinner, the boys were sent out to play. The days were still long and the weather finally nice and they weren't being told to get ready for bed.

Will knew the reason why Balinor and Hunith sent them outside was because they wanted to talk privately. He knew they liked to do that because they didn't want to upset Merlin even though Merlin sometimes did things he really shouldn't do.

After a few minutes and he knew their parents wouldn't be paying attention to them anymore, William snuck up to the hut, crouching down so he wouldn't be seen and sat underneath one of the open windows.

Of course Merlin followed him, so Will made a stern face and held a finger to his lips. Merlin better not get them caught.

Merlin sat next to him and picked at blades of grass, though he wasn't paying much attention to the conversation drifting out of the window. But Will listened carefully.

Hunith was saying, "But we have a good life here. The boys are happy. We have friends."

"Not everyone is our friend anymore," Balinor said. "You know as well as I people are becoming suspicious. And with Orland gone …"

"He always turned a blind eye."

"He saw me, and Merlin, as more than just--"

"-- I know, Balinor." Hunith sighed. "I understand, I do. It's just going to be hard."

By this time, Will was completely still, his back rigid against the stone wall of the hut. His knees were drawn up in front of him. One of the lingering butterflies that hadn't had the sense to leave yet landed on his knee. The fabric of his breeches was worn thin, so much so the threads were separating; Will absently brushed the bug away when little feelers tickled his skin.

Merlin had leaned up against him, head rested on Will's shoulder. Despite being allowed extra time outside, Merlin was started to get tired.

Balinor continued, "Then it's settled. We'll prepare to leave tomorrow."

That caught Will's full attention. He jumped up with a start, a cry of protest from Merlin as he was jostled about.

Will marched into the house, fists curled into balls. He yelled, "No!" Balinor and Hunith looked at him with surprise. Will continued, "We can't leave!"

Hunith stepped forward. "Oh, Will," she said, a bit sadly. "We would've explained--"

"I don't care," Will said resolutely. "We can't leave Ealdor."

In her soft yet determined voice, Hunith explained, "It's safer for us if we do. Better."

Will scowled. "It's better for him," he said accusingly, pointing at Merlin. "Just because he keeps doing--"

Balinor warned, "William."

"-- Stupid things!" Will knew the rules; they weren't supposed to mention the word 'magic' although it happened all the time.

Merlin's eyes were welled with unshed tears and his bottom lip trembled. "I don't do stupid things!"

Will threw his hands up in the air. "Butterflies!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"You never mean to but it still happens," Will snapped angrily. "And now we have to leave!"

Balinor interjected, "William, that's enough."

It was too late and the tears started to streak down Merlin's cheeks. He went to rush out of the hut but Balinor was quick and scooped up the boy. Merlin's arms hugged Balinor's neck tightly and he buried his face into his father's shoulder, his sobs muffled. Balinor exchanged a glance with Hunith then carried Merlin to the other side of the hut, behind the thin tapestry that separated Balinor and Hunith's cot from the rest of the room.

"Honey," Hunith said, coming up to Will. She was well aware of his temper and didn't try touching him.

"I didn't mean to--" He waved in the general direction where they could hear Balinor trying to comfort Merlin. "But I don't want to go."

Hunith crouched down in front of him, down to Will's level.

"Why not?" she asked gently.

Will bit his lip then spilled his concern. "What if he comes home?"

"Who?"

"My father," Will said. He glanced at Balinor's silhouette. "My other one."

Hunith said sadly, "Oh, Will. Remember when we talked about this? He's not going to be coming home."

Will pouted. "But he told me he might."

Hunith nodded. "Yes, he did. But now we know for sure he won't be anymore."

"I know. But ..." Will trailed off and his anger deflated. Tears welled up in his own eyes but he didn't cry because he wasn't a girl and he wasn't like Merlin.

She wrapped her arms around him."You're a part of this family," she said, rubbing his back comfortingly. "We want everyone to be safe."

He nodded. He knew that. It still made him angry and sad, though, thinking that they'd have to leave Ealdor.

"Are you going to apologise to Merlin?"

William scowled and shook his head. That he would not be doing.

"Perhaps when you're less angry," Hunith said. "And you realise this isn't his fault."

That Will wouldn't believe either.

William kept himself busy with fetching some water and helping tidying up, all the while ignoring Balinor after he had put Merlin to bed. Finally, Hunith kissed the top of Will's head and sent him to bed too.

He and Merlin shared a bedroll, sleeping head-to-toe. Will settled in quietly, not wanting to wake the other boy. But just as Will was about to drift off to sleep, Merlin's whisper crept through the dark.

"I'm sorry, Will."

Will sighed. "Go to sleep, Merlin."

The blankets rustled and Merlin's small body crawled over them. He lay down next to Will. When Will finally turned his head there were big blue eyes staring back at him sadly.

"I didn't mean to be bad."

"I know."

"But it makes you mad."

"Not usually," Will admitted. He even smiled. "That time you made Old Man Simmons' chickens run around like they had their heads chopped off was pretty funny."

Merlin giggled. "But they still had their heads on!"

Will had to stifle his own giggle. "And he looked so funny, trying to round them all up."

Will, and his parents, learned to sometimes watch what they said around Merlin. He had a tendency to 'wish' it true sometimes. Like with butterflies and chickens.

Merlin yawned. He asked tiredly, "Are we really leaving?"

Will was silent for a moment. "Yeah, I think so."

"You're coming too, right?"

"Don't be stupid, Merlin," Will huffed. "Of course I am."

"Okay, good." Will could tell by Merlin's voice that he was just about to fall asleep. He really should tell Merlin to get back to his own side of the bed, but he didn't. Will rolled over onto his side and threw an arm across his brother's chest and went to sleep.

**

"But Mum, it isn't fair!" Merlin whined.

Hunith glanced over at her eleven year old son. They were outside their small hut, and Hunith was kneeling on the ground, bent over bucket of water as she gently washed chicken eggs. Merlin was sitting near her, on a short stool, elbows rested on his knobbly knees. He looked incredibly glum.

She asked, "I thought you were going to help me with these?"

Dutifully, he picked up an egg out of the basket and handed it to her. He didn't smile and his eyes lacked their usual joyful sparkle.

"Merlin," Hunith said, shaking her head. "We talked about this."

Finally, he was a bit more animated. He threw his hands up in the air and scowled. "But I should learn how to hunt too!"

Merlin had been in a right strop since he found out that Balinor and Will were going hunting without him.

"And you will, someday," Hunith said, trying to placate her son. She handed him a clean egg and he put it down carefully in the basket with the other cleaned ones. He handed her a dirty one out of the second basket.

Merlin spat out childishly, "What, when I'm taller?"

Hunith had to hide her grin from Merlin. It was a bit of a touchy subject for him. He and Will had always been fairly close in height when they were children, Merlin being tall and thin for his age. But Will was fourteen now, nearing manhood, and he had started growing already. He was taller than Hunith and Merlin now.

It was something Will never failed to point out to Merlin with a smug grin on his face. It would send Merlin pouting and they often fell into a scuffle, no matter how many times Balinor and Hunith told them to stop.

"No, Merlin," Hunith said. "Perhaps when you're older."

"They're not even allowed to!" Merlin protested. He knew the laws and it had been one of his arguments when he was told he had to stay behind. "Why would you let them do something that could get them into so much trouble? It's a risk!"

"Every day is a risk, Merlin," Hunith said calmly. "Maybe some things are worth it. "

It was Hunith who had suggested that Balinor take Will hunting with him. The two had always had a hard time connecting. Will was a good boy and he listened to Balinor. He even respected him, Hunith knew, and had come to regard him as a father. But he did not have the same connection to Balinor as Merlin had, and it made Will and Balinor's relationship slightly strained.

Hunith thought there needed to be a bond between Balinor and Will, much as Merlin had with his father. She was well aware of the dangers if Balinor and Will were to ever be caught but they were willing to do it for Merlin's well being too.

Hunith tried to reason with Merlin. "You get to spend time with your father doing magic, yes? That's a risk too."

They had learned early on that to try to get Merlin to keep his magic completely under control was near impossible. Merlin always wanted to please his parents, and he tried very hard. (More than once, she'd heard Merlin's hushed nos when Will tried urging him on.) But if his magic was kept pent up for too long, it would often -- release. Largely, sometimes dangerously, and it had caused them to flee more than one town or hamlet.

Merlin always felt so guilty afterwards, felt terrible that he was the reason they had to move so often, usually right when they were settled and accepted in the town. It was hard on the boys, yes, but it was draining for Hunith and Balinor too. Life was difficult and starting from scratch wasn't easy.

They decided that Balinor would teach Merlin to control his magic. On days that would allow, father and son would sneak into the woods, far from people and isolated enough that they hopefully would not be seen. It was dangerous, but they were stuck between a rock and a hard place when it came to Merlin and his natural magic.

On those days, Will would sit around and pout, much like Merlin was now, even if he would try to pretend it didn't bother him. Merlin made no such pretence and more often then not wore his heart on his sleeve. He always made sure everyone knew exactly how he was feeling.

"Besides," Hunith said, drawing Merlin's attention to her, "don't you want to spend time with me?"

Merlin tried to lighten his mood with that. "Of course, Mother," he said. He added, "Father didn't want you left alone."

She could tell he was smiling for her sake only, as it hadn't reached his eyes yet. "Exactly," Hunith said. She reached over and ruffled his hair. "Who would look out for me if someone came by?"

"Well, I will," Merlin said, puffing out his chest a little. It was the one thing that had slightly subdued Merlin when he was arguing about going hunting. Balinor had stressed how important it was that Hunith not be left alone and was trusting Merlin to take good care of her. Merlin took the task seriously, even if he still wasn't happy with being left behind.

"Also," Hunith said coyly, "I do need someone to help me carry all these eggs into the village."

With that, Merlin's eyes lit up and his demeanour drastically changed. There was a wide smile across his face. "Really?" he said. "Into the village? We're going?"

Merlin loved going into the village. The family had chosen a home that was quite a walk from town, on the other side of the fields. It was easier to keep their secrets hidden. But Merlin loved being around people and loved any chance he was allowed to go -- which wasn't often, as his parents kept him rather busy.

Hunith laughed. "Perhaps. If I can get all these eggs washed!"

Merlin dropped off his little stool, bending over the pail next to her. "Well, then!" he exclaimed happily. "We'd better get at it!"

"Right you are," Hunith said, smiling at her son's happiness. "There sure are a lot of them, I don't know what's wrong with the chickens."

She paused for a moment, her head turning slowly to Merlin. He was humming a bit under his breath, hands with long fingers washing two eggs. She could tell he was concentrating and trying hard not to end up breaking them, which he was known to do on occasion.

Under her gaze, he turned to her. "What?"

"Merlin. There are an awful lot of eggs today."

"I didn't do it!" he instantly exclaimed. Hunith gave him a dubious look. Merlin shook his head. "I swear, Mother, these eggs were all the chicken's doing. And we did get two more chickens recently, yeah? That's more eggs!"

He looked so innocent that it was hard not to believe him. "You're telling me the truth, right, Merlin?" Hunith asked, trying not to doubt her son.

"Yes!" he said, pouting a bit again. But then he laughed. "I know Will's not here to blame me, but I swear, if I could do something like that I'd do it every day. More chances to go into the village!"

Hunith couldn't help but chuckle a bit. Will often pointed the 'Merlin did it!' finger, usually just to see Merlin get all flustered when he tried denying it. "Okay, Merlin," she said softly, bumping his shoulder with hers. "I believe you. And no trying to do it everyday."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Mum, I think it's beyond what I could do."

Hunith smiled at him, but honestly, she figured he probably could.

**

Will's arms flailed about as he told his story, though his hand still tightly gripped the bow that Balinor had made especially for him. It wasn't anything elaborate or special at all and Balinor mentioned he was surprised it even lasted one day. But it was Will's bow and Merlin had been told repeatedly to never touch it.

"So we had to sneak up really quietly on it, because deer are flighty and by gods, could you even imagine Merlin trying to sneak up on anything? He'd scare it away in a second --"

"Oi!" Merlin protested from his seat on the floor. "I would not!"

Will ignored him and kept up his thrilling tale. "--So we snuck up on it and Father gestured to me. I raised my bow and took careful aim. And then I let the arrow just fly." Will's arm zoomed through the air, fingers pressed together and pointed like an arrow head. He jabbed his fingertips into his own thigh, depicting the path of the arrow. "I hit it in the flank and it went down." Will crumpled to the ground, careful not to land on his bow, as if his family needed the demonstration of how a deer would fall to the ground after being hit by an arrow.

Merlin looked at him, eyes wide. Merlin wasn't angry anymore about not getting to go hunting. He'd had a pleasant enough time with his mother and they had gone to the village. He might be a bit envious of his father and brother's hunt but mostly he was in awe that Will was able to shoot a deer. By himself!

"Did it die right away?" he asked.

Will sat up. He shook his head. "Not right away. We went up to it and it was still twitching. Father withdrew his knife," Will made the motion as though Balinor had unsheathed a mighty sword from his belt, "and handed it to me. I had to slit its throat."

Merlin made a face. That was definitely his least favourite part of the story.

"Don't be such a girl, Merlin," Will teased.

Merlin brightened at that comment. "Speaking of girls!"

Hunith muttered under her breath, "Oh, here we go."

Merlin glanced over. His mother and father were sitting next to each other at the table. They had a hand clasped on top of the table, and each had a cup of tea, and had been watching William tell them his thrilling tale.

Hunith was shaking her head. Merlin recognized the look on her face -- it was when she was trying not to laugh at him or Will. Balinor was looking at her, quizzically.

Father asked, "Do I even want to know?"

Will huffed. "I know I don't."

"Fine, then," Merlin said. "I won't tell you about how me and Mum went into the village."

"You did?" Will asked, curiously.

"Yep," Merlin nodded. "And guess who we saw!"

Will got up off the floor. He put on an air of indifference. "I really wouldn't care, Merlin."

"Are you sure?" Merlin asked playfully.

"Absolutely."

"All right," Merlin said, shrugging. He added coyly, "Then I won't tell you what Rose said."

Balinor murmured, "Ahhh." Merlin looked at him and grinned.

Will was struggling, obviously trying not to care. "I don't care that you saw Rose."

Merlin shrugged again. "Okay, Will."

"I don't care what she said."

"I heard you. I won't tell you what she said." Merlin paused dramatically. "About you."

At this point, Will's cheeks were tinged pink. His boot scuffed at the floor. "I don't care what she said about me."

"Fine."

Will paused for a moment. Then he pointed the tip of his bow at Merlin. "I swear, Merlin, if you don't tell me--"

Everybody burst into laughter, even Balinor. William looked around, daggers in his eyes. "This isn't funny!"

Hunith and Balinor stopped laughing, though, in Merlin's opinion, it looked like they were struggling with that.

Will turned back to Merlin. "Merlin," he said, his voice sounding extremely strained. "Tell me what she said."

"Say please."

Will looked at him incredulously. "I will not!"

Merlin leaned back, resting on his elbows, his legs stretched out in front of him. "Fine, then. I won't tell."

"Merlin," Hunith interjected. He looked at her and she gave a stern look. "Be nice to your brother. Tell him or perhaps I should."

Merlin sat up straight again. "No, no, I will," Merlin said. Looking back at Will, Will looked smug at Merlin for being told off by their mother.

Merlin raised his hand to his cheek, and wiggled his two smallest fingers. "She said," Merlin said, and his voice went up in pitch, poorly imitating a girl's, "Hiiii, Will. I like you, Will. I loooooooove you, Will." Will's face turned a bright red. Merlin continued, "Won't you marry me, Will. I want to have your ba--"

Will's war cry cut him off and Merlin burst out into laughter. William dropped his precious bow and pounced on Merlin. Merlin yelped but quickly started struggling back and the boys rolled across the floor. They yelled at each other -- Will's yells sounded angry and Merlin's were laced with laughter.

"Oi!" their father yelled, trying to get their attention. "Knock it off!"

The boys only stopped once they rolled into the leg of the table, knocking over their parents' cups.

"Boys!" Balinor bellowed.

There was stillness in the hut. At the same time, two pairs of eyes, topped with dishevelled hair, popped over the edge of the table. They stared at Balinor.

Balinor was standing now, and glaring down at them. "Why do you insist on acting as if you were raised in a sty with the pigs!"

There was silence from both of them. And then, under his breath, Will oinked like a pig. Merlin burst into laughter. Hunith had to bit her lip to keep hers in. Balinor threw up his hands in the air with exasperation and stalked out of the hut.

Merlin swore he could hear laughing from outside.

**

"I think you've done it this time, little brother."

William and Merlin were standing next to each other outside their hut, backs up against the stone wall, near one of the windows. They could hear their father inside, deep in conversation -- or, rather, an argument -- with Rose's father.

Merlin muttered under his breath, "You're smaller than me now."

Merlin was fourteen and had hit his growth spurt. He was now a head taller than his seventeen year old brother, a fact that he never let William forget, after years of teasing when it was the other way around. It was easy enough to fall into such familiar jabs, even faced with the seriousness of that day.

William didn't make a snide remark back this time, he only sighed. "I think they were going to let me marry that girl." There was an emphasis on the past tense.

Merlin swallowed the lump in his throat. They both figured it wouldn't be happening any more. "I'm so sorry, Will."

Merlin could feel William shrug as his arm bumped against Merlin's. "No matter. You saved her life, right? That's important."

"Yeah," Merlin said. He gulped again. "Hopefully they don't take mine."

"They don't know who it was, though," William insisted. His voice turned hard of steel. "And if they pick you -- well, we're not going to let that happen. I will cut down anyone who tries."

"Don't be stupid," Merlin said. For his young age, he suddenly felt very tired. "They'd just kill you too."

Will's voice caught in his throat. "Maybe they're going to try to take us all."

Merlin shook his head. "Father will never let that happen. He'll make sure we're all safe."

"Even if he does something stupid and noble as giving himself over," Will said, a bit angrily. Merlin understood -- if Father gave up himself to save their heads, he would be angry too.

"Boys," Hunith hissed at them. They glanced over to the garden and saw her waving at them. "Get away from there."

They weren't supposed to be listening in on the conversation and their mother wasn't allowed to be a part of it either. Still, they'd try to get whatever bits they could that floated out of the house. But their mother kept waving, and calling them over, so reluctantly they pushed off the wall and came over to her.

Immediately, her hands went to straighten up Merlin's neckerchief. "It's going to be fine," Hunith said, but the worried look on her face betrayed her words. "Only Rose and her father saw, yes?"

Merlin shrugged. "I think so."

"Then perhaps they won't turn you in."

None of them felt particularly calmed by that statement. Balinor used to tell them stories about the old days, how magic was accepted by all. And even in the days of the Great Purge, magic was only feared because of the laws that kings had put in place regarding it. Now, so many years later, it was magic that people feared, not the laws.

Will stood beside them, gnawing at his worn down thumbnail. "This is so stupid!" he hissed. "Merlin saved her life!"

"This is my fault," Hunith put in. "You overheard me last night, didn't you?"

Merlin and William remained silent but they glanced at each other. Hunith nodded, her assumption confirmed. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"To be fair, mother," Merlin said. "It's not like you knew we heard."

Both boys had been startled awake the night before by a cry from their mother. But they heard their father comforting her, and her confessing that it was another 'dream.'

The boys had known about her dreams for a long time -- it wasn't something she'd been able to keep from them. When they were old enough, and they hounded her with enough questions, she had explained them to Merlin and William. They knew they were imprecise, that she didn't know exactly what they meant or when they would happen. And, she said, they were usually only related to a member of their family, or on a very rare occasion, someone in their community they were close to.

The night before, Merlin and William had overheard their mother sobbing, telling Balinor that Rose was to be trampled by a horse.

In the morning, Merlin and William had snuck out of the hut, determined to make sure that didn't happen. After all, it was the woman that William was almost betrothed to, they were convinced. The families were still working out the details, and her family needed her help for just another year or two until the two younger children in the family were old enough to help work the fields and around the home too. But, well, everyone had known for years that William and Rose would be together, it was just a matter of when. It would not be good for her to be trampled by a horse.

Merlin and Will walked along the fields, coming closer to Rose's family hut. She had been out back, milking a cow. Her family was one of the very few peasant families in the village that owned a horse, and he was carrying a bucket as she walked by where it was tethered. She was a sturdy girl, the same height as William, but pretty with long brown hair and bright green eyes. Seeing Will, a wide smile crossed her face and pushed up her chubby cheeks as she waved a greeting to him.

It was in that moment that the horse had broken loose. Ever though it was old, it didn't make him any less dangerous when spooked, and it had startled Rose so much she trip backwards and fell to the ground.

Merlin and William ran as fast as they could, but it didn't look as if they could reach Rose in time. The horse's hooves were just about to come down at her. In that moment, two things happened: Rose's father ran out of their hut at his daughter's startled scream, and Merlin used his magic to pull her out of the way.

When Will reached her, he helped her up, hands cupping her face as her frightened tears flowed. Her father, Peter, had got the horse and tied it up again, but he approached them angrily. He ripped Rose out of William's embrace.

Peter thundered, "Who did it?" He grabbed Will's shoulder's, shaking him. "Was it you?" He whirled around, glaring at Merlin. "Or you?"

The boys tried to feign ignorance, pretending to not know what he was talking about. Rose kept yelling hysterically. But the older man grabbed William and Merlin each by an ear, pulling them along. He ordered Rose to stay where she was, and she collapsed to her knees, sobbing as Merlin and Will were dragged away.

Merlin was going to make a break for it, but Will had caught his eye and shook his head. When it appeared they were being taken home, rather than into the village, Merlin relaxed but only a very little bit.

Now, they found themselves waiting to hear their fate.

A short while later, Rose's father left the hut. He didn't look over at William or Merlin, instead stalking away from the family. Balinor came out of the hut, his shoulders sagged.

The other members of his family stood in the middle of the garden, all frozen in place like statues as they stared at Balinor.

Approaching them, Merlin thought that his father looked a lot older than he should. He was starting to fill out a little bit, though still strong from his work in the fields. His hair had grown longer, past his shoulders, and he had grown a full beard. For the first time, Merlin realised that Balinor's hair was spotted with some grey. He wasn't the young man Merlin remembered from his childhood.

"Well," Balinor said grimly. "Peter thinks that maybe, in the scuffle, William might have been there in time to pull Rose out of the way."

All three of them let out a collective sigh of relief.

Balinor did not look very reassuring, though. "He wants our family to stay away from his," he said. He sighed deeply, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "In fact, he wants our family to stay away from everybody."

Merlin glanced at William but William's face looked like a slate of stone, unyielding and blank.

"Well," William said, surprisingly calm. "It was a good run of it, here. Where to next?"

Merlin looked at him, mouth gaped. "Wait. We can't leave, can we?"

"You forget, Merlin," William said. "It's what we do."

Hunith said sadly, "Will--"

"No, Mother," William said. "You know it's true." William looked at Balinor. "Right? That's what we're doing?"

Balinor nodded. "We can prepare today and leave in the morning."

"What? No!" Merlin did not agree with the plan. His arms gestured, sweeping around as his fingers pointed. "This is our home! That's our hut! And our garden. And look!" His finger jabbed through the air. "Those are our chickens."

William pulled out the small knife he always kept sheathed to his belt. "That's supper."

Merlin yelled, "No!"

Balinor placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Son," he said softly. "It's time to move on."

They'd lasted at this town the longest. Merlin had been extra good with his magic, and they'd been able to make it. He didn't want them to leave. He didn't want it to be because of him.

All the gusto deflated out of him, his shoulders sagging. Quietly, he said, "It's all my fault."

Hunith said, "Oh, honey. It's not your fault." She reached for him but he sidestepped out of her way, and shook his father's hand off his shoulder.

Merlin spat, "It is!"

William was there, though, and threw his arm around Merlin's neck, pulling him down a bit. "Don't be daft, Merlin," he said. "This is something much bigger than you." He pushed Merlin away and ruffled his hair. "Now, come on. We have a lot to do."

Merlin looked at William and it crushed his heart. He'd just thrown away William's future; his chance at a wife and a normal life as a farmer in the fields. Now they were on the run again and it could be years before any of them got that back.

But he also saw William's determination and support. It filled Merlin with a bit of hope. He nodded. "All right," he said. He took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's get ready."

As the boys walked to the hut, Merlin glanced over his shoulder. In the middle of the garden patch stood his mother and father. Mother's arms were around Father's waist, and his were around her shoulders, holding her close. One of his hands tugged lightly at a stray strand of her hair. Merlin couldn't hear it but he knew they were murmuring reassurances to each other.

Merlin loved his family and found it quite hard to erase the guilt that settled in his heart over what he made them go through.

**

There was a fire in the pit that Balinor had made. The flames crackled, flicking up towards the sky. Given the one piece of wood in the centre of the pit, the flames were much larger then they had any right to be.

Then again, there was a young warlock, only sixteen years of age, sitting on a log not too far from the fire, whispering words to urge the flame on.

Merlin let his magic flow through him, golden and light, simmering just under his skin. He funnelled it, soft whispered words breathed out of his mouth, floating through the air and controlling the flames in front of him.

Across the way, he could see his father. He was also sitting on a log, elbows rested on his knees with his clasped hands hanging between his legs. He was watching his son intently, a proud look on his face.

Merlin's concentration broke as he smiled widely at his father, and the flames swooped down, barely more then embers covering the charred wood.

Balinor smiled. "Well done, Merlin."

"Thanks, Father," Merlin said, feeling right pleased with himself.

It was nearly two years after the incident with Rose, and the family had taken to being on the run again. They had settled near a town though their home was even more isolated than before. Their hut was set deep in the woods that lined the fields that Balinor, William, and Merlin tended to.

"Oh, yeah," Will muttered sarcastically. Merlin looked over at him; Will was seated on the ground, leaned up against a log. One knee was pulled up but the other leg stretched out before him, and his arms were sprawled over the wood. His tunic was dangling in one hand, his chest bare. His face and the lower parts of his arms were a bright red.

Will continued, "Fantastic job. We're in the middle of a heat wave and he's giving us more fire." Will rolled his eyes. "Thanks for that one, Merlin."

"Shut up," Merlin spat at him. "I'm just practicing."

"Can't you practice something like, oh I don't know, a torrential downpour?"

Balinor warned, "Merlin, no."

Merlin held up his hands defensively. "I wasn't going to! It was Will's idea, not mine."

When Merlin glanced over at the other young man, he saw Will smirking at him. Merlin just scowled back.

Will complained more, "It's too hot to do anything. Can't we just go and sit in the creek tomorrow?"

"William," Balinor said, voice stern. "There is work to be done. We shouldn't have left as early as we did today."

It was the middle of the summer and the days were long. It meant longer hours for those who worked the fields, getting up with the sun and usually not returning until it started to set. But it had been so warm that day, making everyone lethargic and ill, that Balinor suggested they return to their hut a bit earlier than usual. Luckily, the lord of those lands lived a fair bit away and there wouldn't be too much trouble.

While they had some contact and fragile connections with the town's folk, Balinor usually made sure that his family went unnoticed, that nothing drew any attention to them. Shirking the duties of the field was one way to fall into the wrong, but all of them were starting to feel dizzy under the sun's hot rays that he permitted it this once.

Instead of cooking in the hut, they had started a fire outside in the pit to warm up a bit of soup that Hunith had made, munching down on bread and carrots. Now, the three men sat around lazily, none of them wanting to move very much.

Merlin said, "Tell us a story, Father." He smirked. "That way we don't have to listen to Will's whining."

"Shut up, Merlin," Will said, though there was no heat behind his words. He lazily threw a twig Merlin, missing by an arm's length. "I am not complaining."

Merlin snorted. "Yes, you are!" His voice went up an octave, "Oh, it's so hot. Don't do magic, Merlin, because it's too hot and I look like a ripened strawberry."

"Oi!" Will said, his leg kicking in Merlin's general direction. It still wasn't enough to get Will to actually stand up and come over to do it. "You're a disrespectful little git, you know it? Respect your elders!"

Merlin snorted. "You? My elder? You're not even twenty yet."

Balinor put in, "I will have you know, young man, when I was William's age --"

William and Merlin both finished his sentence off for him, "I was married and had a baby."

Merlin added, "Don't forget, he worked the fields."

Will put in, "And hunted!"

Merlin exclaimed, "And oh! He provided medicinal treatment to a whole village!"

Merlin and William laughed at Balinor's put out expression. Their father said, "Well, that is true. It's time for you to be thinking about such things again, William."

"Nah," William said. His head leaned back and he closed his eyes up to the sky. "I'm good with how things are."

Merlin worried his bottom lip. He knew that since Rose, Will had decided not to get attached to the idea of marriage again. It wasn't something that he specifically voiced aloud to Merlin, or even their mother or father, but they all knew it. Merlin tried asking him about it before but Will flat out refused to talk about it. It caused an argument any time it came up.

Instead of pushing it right now, Merlin said again, "Right then, Father. A story?"

Will added, "Not about how you and mother met."

Balinor said, teasingly, "What's wrong with that?"

Merlin snorted. "Because it's so …"

Balinor suggested, "Romantic?"

"Boring," Will said. "Plus, it's always better when Mother tells it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Balinor asked. "I tell fine stories."

"You do," Merlin agreed. "But Mom calls you a daft git when she tells it. You always seem to leave that part out."

Both boys laughed and their father shook his head. "Well, fine," he said gruffly, but Merlin could see the amusement in his eyes. "We'll leave that story to your mother."

Merlin said excitedly, "Tell us about Camelot."

William groaned. "Again?"

"Well," Merlin pointed out defensively, "that's where Father lived before he went to Ealdor! Those are his stories!"

William just rolled his eyes. Merlin knew he couldn't pull the wool over his eyes; they all knew how Merlin loved the stories about Camelot. He wasn't even sure what it was about it -- it was hard for him to imagine a big castle and the surrounding city, with all those people and the life of the court. But Merlin had always been fascinated with hearing about it.

When he was younger, he'd listen attentively as Balinor talked about his time as the court physician's apprentice. When he was older, and Balinor started to tell him about magic and being a Dragonlord, Merlin would have an ache in his heart that he didn't understand. He wanted more than anything to see the great Camelot castle, to perform magic, and to meet a dragon.

But Merlin knew none of that would ever happen. His father had told him repeatedly that there was no way he could go into Camelot now. It was much too dangerous; they'd all heard the stories that floated around the villages about what happened there when people were caught with magic. Magic wasn't allowed. And there were no more dragons.

When Merlin heard these stories, it felt like there was a piece of him missing. And, so, he tried to live vicariously through his father's stories and encouraged them being told whenever he could. It was the closest thing he could have.

Balinor was sitting there, stroking his beard as he pondered. "Have I ever told you about my first test as a Dragonlord?"

"Test?" Merlin asked, excitedly. "What test? What did you have to do?"

"Merlin, would you shut it, already?," Will muttered. "Let the man speak." But when Merlin looked over, he saw that Will was sitting up at attention, interested in what their father had to say.

"Yes, a test," Balinor said. The look in his eyes made him seem like he was years away, in a time long ago.

Merlin whispered loudly, trying not to break the mood but really wanting his father to go on, "Well, then. What'd you have to do?"

Balinor turned to him, a soft smile playing on his face. "It started with a knight."

**

It was a hot day and Balinor looked up at the sun, hand over his eyes to shield from it. He sighed and dragged his eyes down to gaze out at the field where he was about to have a sword fight against another Dragonlord.

It was his least favourite part about training as a Dragonlord. It was mandatory they learn some combat; nothing near as complex or intense as the knights and other soldiers. But, if a Dragonlord was to go into battle, he would need to know how to defend himself.

It had only been six full moons since his father had died, since Balinor had become a Dragonlord. Balinor was serious about his studies and wanted to do well so he put a lot of focus and attention into his sword fighting training too. But it didn't come very naturally to him and it was a bit of a struggle.

Still, he was required to fight.

"I don't see why I have to fight you," Balinor said, looking at the man beside him. "You've been a Dragonlord forever. And you're an actual Knight! You know what you're doing!"

A tall, thin man stood next to him. His name was Eric and he had dark hair and dark eyes. He was about fifteen years older than Balinor and had been a Dragonlord for many years. He was Balinor's instructor, and was a fine man, though rather strict and pushed Balinor hard.

He was also the only Dragonlord that had come from a line of nobility; before he'd become a Dragonlord, he had been a squire and then a Knight. Sir Eric led all the training for the Dragonlords, often forgetting he was working with common men.

Sir Eric clapped his hand on Balinor's shoulder and laughed. "We all went through this," he said. "It's a right of passage."

Balinor glanced over to where the stands had been erected, and he saw the throne their sovereign would be seated on. "Yes, but does King Uther really have to watch?"

"He watches them all," Sir Eric answered. "He takes a strong interest in all his Dragonlords." There were only about a dozen under his command, and more than any other king had, and he always took an active interest in how they were doing. Balinor had blushed more than once when Sir Eric informed him the King had been asking after his progress.

Balinor nodded, feeling a bit nervous, tugging at his collar. He wore a dark blue quilted arming coat and it already stuck to his skin with sweat. But at least it kept his skin from chafing under the weight of his father's chain mail. He only wore the hauberk -- the long sleeved chainmail shirt -- but no other armour. He was glad for that, as he still didn't have very good movement when the metal weighed down his arm.

King Uther arrived to the field, flanked by his closest advisors, including Gaius. Gaius gave Balinor a small wave and an encouraging smile. After the King sat in his throne, the others took their seats behind him.

"Is the Queen not coming?" Balinor asked. He liked Queen Ygraine quite a bit; she was always supportive of Balinor and often asked after him if they happened to see each other.

Sir Eric shook his head. "I hear she is not feeling well; though, she must be recovering for the King wouldn't leave her side if she wasn't."

"I'm glad to hear that," Balinor said sincerely.

The King gestured to Sir Eric and the knight bowed in return. Turning to Balinor, Sir Eric said with a smile, "Come now. It's time."

The fight did not last very long; it never did, with Balinor. But he gave it all his effort and he did well, blocking some of Sir Eric's attempted blows. Balinor was even able to take the offensive for some time, his controlled movements bearing down on Sir Eric.

But in the end Balinor ended up on his back in the dirt, Sir Eric's sword pointed threatening at his throat.

"Do you surrender?" Sir Eric demanded. He was always like that when they practiced; noble and commanding.

Balinor glanced over to where his sword was laying feet away from him. Looking up at Sir Eric, Balinor he rolled his eyes. "Yes," he said flatly.

A smile sprung across the knight's face and he raised his sword up in the air, declaring victory. The handful of other Dragonlords that watched clapped and cheered, as did the King and his men.

Sir Eric lowered a hand to help Balinor up. "You did well today!" he said enthusiastically.

"Thanks," Balinor said, rising to his feet, still slightly embarrassed at his loss.

They bowed before the King. Uther said, "You've improved, Balinor."

Balinor blushed and nodded. Improved, yes, but he couldn't be called good, let alone great. He still took it as a compliment. "Thank you, my lord."

Uther addressed Sir Eric, "Will there be a second demonstration today?"

"Yes. Yes, I believe there will be."

Balinor's looked askance at Sir Eric. Under his breath he muttered, "What?" He hadn't been informed of anything; he didn't feel prepared.

"I didn't want to make you nervous," Sir Eric said, chuckling. "But I think we'll have a duel for a dragon today. What do you say?"

Balinor's jaw dropped. "A … duel?" A giddy grin crossed his face. "Really?"

Balinor hadn't been engaged in a dragon duel yet; it was when two Dragonlord fought each other for control over one dragon. Balinor had practiced his control, yes, but he'd never had to use it to fight against another.

He was certain he'd make a fool of himself but he didn't even care. It was an opportunity he didn't want to give up.

"Over to the other side," Sir Eric gestured across the field. Balinor quickly hurried, taking up his position there.

Sir Eric's threw his head back and he yelled out to the sky, "Drago!

There was a pause and it was if the day had gone silent; no one said anything, waiting to see if the dragon appeared.

Sir Eric yelled again, "Drago!"

Balinor envied Sir Eric's long range power; his hadn't developed like that yet and he knew he wouldn't be able to call out and expect a dragon to come to him. He was working on it but he didn't often get the chance.

However, short range, he was much better at.

Sir Eric looked as though he was going to call again but there was a gasp from the small crowd. Looking up, it was as if she was a beam shining down from the sun itself. The sunlight bounced off her golden scales, reflecting little dancing patterns to the green grass below.

She landed in the middle of the field, her weight vibrating the ground enough that Balinor could feet it underfoot.

Sir Eric's Dragonlord power had dropped as he put in a request to the Gold Dragon. "Will you allow us to perform an exercise with you today?"

Her large head swung around and she looked at Balinor, smiling. "Is it time, young Dragonlord, to prove your power?"

Balinor smiled and nodded eagerly. "It seems so!" he called out. He mock glared at Sir Eric. "Not that I knew!"

Sir Eric chuckled along with the Gold Dragon. "Prepare!" he called back to Balinor.

They stood at opposite sides of the field, the dragon in the middle. She also prepared, lying down on the ground, tail wrapped around her.

"On the count of three!" Sir Eric yelled. "One … two … three!"

At the same time, Sir Eric and Balinor pulled on their power, calling out in unison, "Drago!" The Gold Dragon's head stayed facing forward and when they both called again, she looked at Sir Eric.

He had the upper hand. Sir Eric told her to rise up of the ground; dragons preferred to be airborne and it would be easier to control her. She stood up, wings unfurling, and she started to flap them. She got at least three men's height off the ground before Balinor was able to get her attention; when he called for her, she paused and looked at him.

He tried to command her back down to the ground, to overpower Sir Eric's control. But Sir Eric, though he didn't get her to fly up anymore, told her to look up to the sky, and she did. Then Sir Eric told her to shoot out fire. A great stream blasted from her mouth, arching up into the air.

Balinor closed his eyes and fastened on his strength. He focused on the dragon, reaching out to her.

When the stream of fire ceased, Sir Eric told her to roar. And she did, long and loud. The crowed around collectively gasped and then they all broke into cheers.

Balinor opened his eyes. He saw Sir Eric turn to the crowd and wave. Balinor took advantage.

"Down!" he said, loudly. The Gold Dragon suddenly dropped to the ground with a loud thud. The crowd gasped in shock but Balinor didn't pay them any attention. He just focused on her and tried to nudge his way into her mind and rid her of Sir Eric's control.

Sir Eric turned back, surprised, and he yelled out a command, for her to get back into the air. But she only looked at Balinor.

"Come," Balinor beckoned, and she took steps towards him. Balinor couldn't feel Sir Eric's presence at all; however, he could feel one that dominated over her permanently, and always would. She had an Etch.

He had learned about Etches; they were permanent commands imprinted on dragons. They were done by the strongest of Dragonlords and nothing could overthrow them; not even other Dragonlords. Balinor couldn't tell just what her Etch was but he had full confidence that he now had temporary control over her. It was stronger than even the first day he'd met her and asked her to perform tricks for him.

"Come to me," he reiterated, and she did. "Rest." She laid down on the ground right before him, her head resting just meters away from him. She was focussed on him and only him. He smiled. "Stay."

And, despite Sir Eric's yells and commands, she complied with Balinor.

Balinor sighed, tired, but held on to his control over her. He sat down on the ground in front of her, cross legged. He smiled. "Hullo," he said simply, just as himself.

She chuckled. Tilting her head, still submissive, she said, "It's over."

He looked over at the others, surprised. Sir Eric was hanging his head, somewhat glumly. King Uther was standing, clapping loudly. Behind him, Gaius too was clapping and looking at Balinor proudly.

"Oh," he said, and he let go of his power.

The Gold Dragon didn't leave; instead, she inched closer, her head lying on the ground next to him. He leaned his cheek against one of the scales of her face, right below the line of her mouth.

Balinor stood up as King Uther and Sir Eric approached him and the dragon. They stopped several feet back and Balinor walked to them. He glanced over his shoulder and found that she had lifted her head and was watching them, but she did not leave.

"Most impressive!" King Uther exclaimed. "Winning your first duel. Wouldn't you agree, Sir Eric?" He glanced at the knight Dragonlord, amused.

Sir Eric was shaking his head. "Astounding," he agreed. Balinor thought he sounded upset, or possibly jealous. But Sir Eric added, "You have the strongest power I've ever seen."

"Does he now?" King Uther asked, looking at Balinor winningly, though there was a predatory gleam in his eye. He nodded his head. "I knew you wouldn't disappoint. I look forward to your future services."

Balinor cheeks turned warm under the praise but he bowed. "Thank you, my lord."

They both took their leave, Sir Eric telling Balinor he was dismissed for the rest of the day. Turning to the Gold Dragon, she had her teeth bared in a smile.

"Feel free to tell me how great I am," Balinor jested.

She threw her head back and laughed as she pushed herself off the ground, taking flight.

Balinor yelled out, "Can I come see you soon?"

"Yes, young Dragonlord," she said down to him. "Your presence is always welcome."

Flying away, it seemed as though she disappeared into the sun. Balinor could not stop smiling the rest of the day and long past that.

**

At the end of his story, Balinor sat in silence, thinking about his past. He thought about his mentor, Sir Eric – the first of the Dragonlords to have been executed. (King Uther didn't trust one of his knights as one and it was soon after that he made the Codes, and only nobility were allowed to train to serve him.) And he thought of his friend, the Gold Dragon. She was also the first of her kind to be killed; the thought of it always brought such sorrow to Balinor's heart.

Balinor's sons were oblivious to his thoughts.

When he finished his tale, Will and Merlin had jumped to their feet. The story had lightened their moods and they seemed to have forgotten the oppressive heat. They waved wooden sticks, in place of swords, at each other.

"Can you even imagine?" Will said, striking a blow at Merlin. "Fighting a knight!"

"Controlling a dragon!" Merlin said back. "That's the best part."

"You're -- William, you can't strike a blow like that," Balinor called out.

William turned to Balinor, arm dropping. "Teach me."

Merlin took advantage of William's distraction and hit him smartly across the lower back.

"Oi!" William said. He dropped his stick and lunged at Merlin. Merlin squawked as the two of them tumbled over.

"Boys!" Balinor called out to his sons. "Settle down."

William shoved Merlin's head into the dirt once more and then stood. He ignored Merlin's scowl but offered a hand to help him up.

"I'm serious, Father," William said. "You should teach us how to handle swords properly."

Balinor remained silent, stroking over his beard. The last thing he wanted was for Merlin or William to ever have to fight. "I don't see the point," he said.

"What if we get called off to war?" William protested.

Balinor said, firmly, "Not going to happen."

"It might! Eventually! If we ever get a normal life," William added, somewhat spitefully.

"And what if I have to fight a dragon someday?" Merlin put in.

William laughed at him. "Merlin, you dolt, that's not going to happen."

Merlin shrugged and added hopefully, "It might."

Balinor said, "It won't." He knew his son wanted nothing more than to receive the Dragonlord's powers someday -- far, far in the future, Merlin would insist -- and that he wanted to meet a real dragon. Balinor knew that was impossible and he wanted Merlin to accept that.

And, after what happened to Jonas, the last thing Balinor wanted was for William to go to war.

William was stubborn and would not give up. "There could be bandits!"

Merlin nodded, agreeing. "Exactly!"

"Or magical creatures!"

"You tell us those stories all the time," Merlin put in sensibly.

"We need to be able to protect ourselves," William said. "This should've been done a long time ago--"

"William," Merlin hissed. "Less criticising and more convincing."

William said, seriously, "We both really want this."

Merlin agreed, "Absolutely."

"There's two sets of chain mail; we'll be protected."

"Yes!"

They both looked hopefully at Balinor. Balinor remained quiet, continuing to stroke his beard, and he weighed the options.

Finally, he said gruffly, "I'll think about it."

Both young men whooped with joy. They knew that was a yes.

**

It was the following spring that Merlin and William woke up with the sun and found their father was already gone for the day.

"Where is he, Mum?" Merlin asked, shovelling a spoonful of porridge into his mouth. "He didn't go to the fields without us, did he?"

Hunith shook her head. "No, he didn't."

William and Merlin looked at each other quizzically. Merlin turned back to her and really looked. She was getting older, yes, but usually had a youthful glow about her. She joked it was because she was so in love with their father, which usually sent Will and Merlin into making retching sounds. She worked long and hard too and it was starting to show with the years, but something seemed off this day.

She looked more tired than usual and her gentleness didn't seem to reach her eyes. Her lips were pursed into a thin line and her hands shook a little as she poured a cup of water. It nearly dropped out of her hands as she handed it to Will.

William frowned. "Mother? Are you all right?"

"Yes, dear," she said, lightly patting his hair. He usually ducked out of the way, claiming he was much too old be have his hair ruffled like some child. Today, he let her as he continued to watch her.

Merlin asked, "And Father? Is he all right?"

"Oh, yes dear," Hunith assured, turning away from the table. She kept herself busy at the counter. "Your father is fine."

William grunted as he lifted his cup to his lips. His eyes never left their mother's back. "Where is he?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "Oh. He had to go into the village."

Both Merlin and William made protests at that, mixed voices asking the same thing: why didn't they get to go too? They didn't often get to go into town anymore though they usually accompanied their father when they did.

Hunith held up her hands, trying to block the waves of protests from her grown sons. "He had things to do and left early."

Merlin exclaimed, "He could've woken us!"

"We would've liked to go too," Will said.

"Boys," Hunith said, voice more stern then usual. It immediately shut them both up. "He had to go and that is that. Now, eat up so you can get to work."

Merlin sighed but dutifully shoved another spoonful of porridge into his mouth. Will, however, kept looking at her.

"Mother," he started slowly, "did you have a dream?"

Merlin's head snapped up at that, surprised. "Did you?"

"That is none of your concern right now," Hunith said, one hand waving through the air. "Don't worry and eat up."

"You did," Will accused, though not meanly, but knew it was true. "To send Father out early in the morn? It must have been serious."

"You know how these things are," Hunith said, placating. "We really have no idea what it is."

Merlin added, "And he's checking it out?"

Hunith nodded. "Yes. He's gone to speak with some people."

"About what?"

"Merlin, enough with your questions." Before the other could start she added, "You too, William." She looked at them both firmly. "When your father returns, and I have a chance to speak with him, then perhaps we'll tell you."

"That's stupid," William said. He looked angry, and perhaps a little disappointed. "We're not children. And we're a part of this family too. We can take it!"

Merlin nodded emphatically to show support. "Yes, it's okay!"

Hunith shook her head, unyielding. "You're still our children and I'm your mother. We are done discussing this until your father returns."

"Mum --"

"No, William," Hunith said, cutting him off. She wiped her hands on her apron and left, simply stating, "I'll go see to the animals."

Merlin looked after her, worried. Will was scowling, obviously put out that he couldn't get the information from her that he had wanted.

"Well," Merlin said, tapping his spoon against the side of his bowl. "I think something is wrong."

William stared at him for a second and then rolled his eyes. "Brilliant, Merlin," he said sarcastically. "Way to figure that one out."

"Oi!" Merlin said, frowning. "I was just saying. And I'm sure they'll tell us when Father is home."

William scowl deepened. "This is bad."

"You think so?"

Will nodded. "Can't remember Mother ever being that secretive, can you?"

Merlin thought on it. "No," he said slowly. "No, I don't think so. It is a bit odd. But everything will be fine."

William snorted under his breath. "Right," he said. "Everything's always perfectly fine." He downed the rest of his water and stood up. "Come on," he said. "We've work to do."

**

Their father wasn't back home by the time William and Merlin returned from the field. He didn't come back that night at all and he wasn't there in the morning.

Hunith looked even more tired. But she was just as resolved in not disclosing any information to the boys as they were in trying to get answers out of her again at breakfast time.

Finally, the second evening after he'd been gone and the boys returned it , their father was also back.

"Oh, this doesn't look good," William muttered under his breath as they walked up to the hut.

"What?" Merlin asked. Looking around, he said with surprise, "Oh! New horses!" There were two new horses tethered up outside the house, ones that had not previously been theirs.

William frowned. "But how did he get them? They would've cost too much."

"He must've really needed them ..." Merlin trailed off. "Oh. This doesn't look good."

William rolled his eyes. "Yes, thank you for noticing, Merlin."

Merlin shoved William's shoulder and quickly entered the hut., head ducking down as he went through the doorway. William was right behind him. Merlin saw their parents sitting at the table. His father's and mother's chairs were close and their heads bent towards each other, and their hands were clasped together on the tabletop.

"Hullo, boys," Balinor said. He gestured at the other chairs. "Take a seat."

Merlin took the chair across from his parents. William stood by the door, arms crossed. Guardedly, he said, "I'll stand."

Balinor pursed his lips but he did not push it.

"Mother? Father?" Merlin questioned. "What's wrong? Why are there horses? Are we leaving again?"

Balinor and Hunith glanced at each other, looking troubled. Finally, Balinor said, "Some of us are."

Merlin was confused. "Some of us? I don't understand."

"Honey," Hunith said. She reached one of her hands to cover Merlin's. "William and I will be going back to Ealdor."

A rise of loud protest filled the hut, coming from both Merlin and Will.

"You can't leave!"

"We can't go there!"

"What about me and Father?"

"What about Merlin and Father?"

"Boys, boys!" Balinor said loudly, trying to drown them out. Finally, Merlin and William fell silent, though the confusion and anger rolled off them in waves.

Will demanded, "What is this? Why would you even say that?"

"For now, it'll be safer," Balinor tried to explain. "There's possibly some trouble coming this way."

"Trouble? What sort of trouble," Merlin asked, desperately. He was shocked to hear of his parents' plans and he did not want them to be followed through on. "Whatever it is, we'll face it. Together."

"Merlin," Hunith said. She looked between the two boys. "There's danger for all of us if we stay here. I've seen it."

"Great!" Will said with a huff. He threw his hands up in the air. "You've seen it! In a dream you probably can't explain--"

Hunith tried to put in, "William--"

He wouldn't let her. "No, Mother, this is madness. After all this time, we can't separate like this!"

Hunith said, "We have no choice."

"Rubbish!" he yelled.

Balinor bellowed, "Enough, William."

Merlin's eyes went wide; he'd never heard his father like that before. Angry, yes, and sometimes stern, but never so demanding.

Balinor continued, "You will not speak to your mother like that."

Will threw in an unapologetic, "Sorry, sir."

"Sit down," he said, pointing to last remaining stool.

Will stood completely still, arms hanging at his sides with his hands balled into fists.

"I said sit," Balinor said firmly. "We will discuss this together."

Merlin was afraid that William would defy their father, that he would make it even more stressful. But William finally complied. He sat in the chair, leaned back, arms crossed and thoroughly defensive.

Balinor sighed, and Merlin thought he looked very tired and very concerned. Balinor started explaining, "There are confirmed reports that there is a witchfinder travelling to this area."

Merlin asked, "Witchfinder?" just as Will said, "What's that?"

"A man named Aredian is hired by lords and kings to come to their villages and track down witches and sorcerers."

Merlin gaped at his father, astounded. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him and he wasn't even sure he understood completely yet.

Will jumped right on it. "How do you know? Why is he here? Is it because of Merlin?"

Merlin turned to him. "Do you think --"

"You've been good!" Will exclaimed.

"I know!" Merlin agreed. He turned back to his parents. "I swear, no one knows."

Balinor held up a hand. "We know, Merlin. We know." He glanced at Hunith, who nodded at him to continue. "We don't think it's specifically for us, but he's coming from towns we've already lived in."

Merlin said glumly, "So he might have heard of us."

"We don't know that for certain, Merlin," Hunith said. "But I had a dream the other night. I knew he was coming here and I was afraid."

Balinor added, "I went into town to see if I could get information about him. It's true, he's coming here from the west."

Merlin said flatly, "And so you're sending Mother and Will back that way? Where's he's already been?"

"Why do we have to go at all?" William put in angrily, slamming his fist down onto the table. "We should stay here, with you!"

Balinor shook his head. "We won't be staying here."

Merlin said, "We're not?"

"We will go to the next village over. There are caves just outside of it. We will hide there until this passes."

William put in, "Mother and I can go with you! It's stupid, sending us away."

"That is no way to have your mother live," Balinor said sharply. "And I need someone to accompany her to make sure she's safe."

"No," William said firmly. "It makes no sense. We don't have to leave!"

"William," Hunith finally put in. She was trying to remain strong, Merlin could tell, but it was obviously hard on her too. "I've seen it. We're to go to Ealdor. It is where you and I belong."

"You dreamt it," William spat. "We don't know that it's for sure!"

"Three nights, William," Hunith said. Her eyes look haunted. "That's never happened before. I just know we're to go there. We're going home."

"And once it's safe, Merlin and I will come to you," Balinor said.

"Was that in the dream?" Merlin asked, hopefully. "We all get to go home to Ealdor?"

Hunith glanced at Balinor but shook her head. "I only know you and your father hide. But I'm sure you will," she said encouragingly. "You'll be able to find us."

William pushed back, his chair knocking over behind him. He didn't say anything but stormed out of the hut in a huff.

"William!" Merlin called out to him. He was about to stand but he paused when his mother and father both put a hand on his arm.

"Let him go," Hunith said. "He's angry and needs to cool off."

Balinor said, "He'll be fine, with a bit of time."

Merlin settled back down in his chair and looked sadly at his parents. "Does this really have to happen?"

"We've decided it does," Balinor said.

"It'll be fine, Merlin," Hunith said. "Everything will work out how it's supposed it."

**

It was two days later that the family stood outside their hut. All the important items that they could manage to carry in packs had been divided between the two parties, and some were in packs to be strapped to Will and Hunith's horses.

Merlin had a heavy heart when he watched Will pack up his few belongings. Will had been extra careful to make sure his real father's chain mail had been packed safely. Balinor had told him about it a long time ago, and while it usually was stored away, he'd used it recently when he and Merlin would practice with swords. Merlin would wear Balinor's old chain mail but he did not have the natural grace of a fighter.

Will had become closed off when he realised that his parents would not change their minds. Silent anger rolled off him with obvious hostility towards Balinor. Even the way he moved was displeased, with short jerky movements and very tense. The scowl hadn't left his face since their initial conversation with their parents. Merlin was convinced that even Will's sleep was incensed.

Merlin was upset too, but he was torn between acting put out like Will or being completely accepting and supporting of their parent's decision.

He ended up falling between but acting completely opposite of his brother.

Merlin had barraged his parents with questions. He asked his mother to explain her dream thoroughly -- though she couldn't give him exact details because, as she had told him for years, "It doesn't work like that." The most she could explain was that there had been flashes of her and Will in Ealdor and ones of him and Father outside a cave. And they would be in danger if they stayed.

This was apparently enough for their parents to decide to split their family apart.

When Merlin tried questioning his father, Balinor would grimly say, "Your mother has not led us wrong before." And that was that, and any complaining would be met with a highly disapproving look. Merlin hated when his father looked like that so he stopped with his questions.

Now, Merlin stood beside Will as he tightened the strap on his saddle.

"Almost time to go," Merlin said anxiously.

Will answered flatly, "Yeah." He moved to get on his horse.

"Oi!" Merlin said, grabbing Will's shoulders. He pulled him into a hug.

"Merlin, you're such a girl sometimes," Will huffed into his neck. But he hugged back with three strong pounds to Merlin's slim back.

Pulling away, Merlin asked, "Aren't you going to say goodbye to Father?"

Will glanced over to where Balinor was double checking the items secured to Hunith's mare. Will shrugged. "Don't know."

"Don't be a prat. He's your father."

Will stiffened a bit at that and he didn't respond. Merlin rolled his eyes and shoved Will. "Go, you idiot."

When Will approached Balinor, Hunith came to Merlin.

"Mum," Merlin said, almost pleading.

"Don't start, Merlin," she said, but it was kind and a little sad. Merlin knew this wasn't easy for her either. "Come here, my boy," she said, her arms reaching out to him. Merlin pulled her into a big bear hug, lifting her right off the ground.

When setting her back down, she cupped his cheek. "Now, you be good and listen to your father," she instructed. "He's going to keep you safe from the Witchfinder."

"You think so?"

"I know so," she said firmly. "And when he says you're ready to leave, you can leave."

"Mother?" Merlin frowned. "When's that?"

"When he says," she repeated. "Make sure you listen to him carefully, all right?"

Merlin sighed. Sometimes his mother's cryptic dreams were difficult to deal with but he knew without a doubt he'd listen to both his parents. They hadn't pointed them wrong before.

***

Balinor stood in front of William, the young man that was the child of his best friend. And who had been a son to Balinor all these years. Even if William didn't feel the same way, he was still one of Balinor's kin.

"You can travel the main roads," Balinor instructed gruffly. "It'll be safe, for you two. Easier."

"Yes, I know," William said, guarded. "You already told me that. Three times."

Balinor sighed, hunching his shoulders. Things had been tense with William and this wasn't how he wanted to part. Balinor took a bold step and pulled his son into a rough hug. It was awkward because William remained stiff but Balinor didn't let go.

"I'm proud of you, son," he said. He needed William to know that. He would not let William go without him knowing that.

Will whispered in his ear, "I'm so angry at you right now."

"I know."

Balinor pulled away. He tugged lightly at William's hair. William scowled and tried to bat his hand away. Balinor's hand came to rest on Will's shoulder and he squeezed encouragingly. "I trust your mother's dreams. If she says you and her belong in Ealdor then so be it."

"We belong with you!" William said in an outburst. "Our family. Together!"

While William had remained in his steely silence for days, this had been the same argument Merlin had tried to use as well. It tore at Balinor's heart and he'd almost given in a dozen times. But he would not be deterred. He was doing what was best for the family.

He told William, "There is no other man in the world I would trust Hunith's care to. I know you'll keep her safe."

"Of course I will," his son said immediately. "I won't let anything happen to her."

"You're a good man, William," Balinor said, squeezing his shoulder once more before letting his hand drop. "And I love you."

"Father," William said gruffly. Unexpectedly, he threw his arms around Balinor's neck in a strong hug, much the same he had shared with Merlin. "Me too."

Balinor swelled with pride at hearing that.

William let go just as quickly as he'd latched on, shuffling away. "You take care of Merlin," he said. He tried to give a brave smile. "Lord knows the boy needs it."

"Oi!" Merlin said, walking up to them, his arm slung around his mother's shoulders. "I will have you know I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

William snorted. "Doubtful," Will said, shoving playfully at his shoulder. Merlin stepped away from their mother, and shoved back. It soon became a full out shoving match, Merlin chasing William in a circle around one of the horses, with William easily ducking out of his reach each time.

Balinor took his wife into his arms one last time. She buried her face into his chest.

"We're doing the right thing, aren't we?" she said quietly, so that the boys didn't overhear.

Balinor tugged lightly at the strand of hair that stuck out of her kerchief. "We're protecting our family," he said. "It's the right thing."

"It's a wonder we stayed as safe as we have, all these years." There was no malice in her words, only truth.

"It is," he agreed. His fingers lightly tilted her chin up a bit and he kissed her soundly on the lips. "Everyone will be fine."

She remained quiet at that and it was enough for him to question, "Hunith?"

She tried to smile but there were tears welling in her eyes. "Yes," she said.

"Did you see something else?"

"I don't know how it goes," she started, her usual warning. "It's all confusing, so many dreams coming at once. But, Balinor, when he comes, you need to go with him. Don't leave till then."

"Who, Hunith?" Balinor asked, cupping her cheek. He looked intensely into her eyes. "Who?"

"He's a young man. And wears a ring." She touched Balinor's forefinger. "Here. But I don't know anything else."

Balinor nodded. "I'll remember."

"It's destiny," Hunith said. "When that time comes. I just know."

"All right, my love," Balinor said. "I believe you." Their whole family held on to their belief in destiny; Balinor had learned it from the dragons and Hunith knew there had to be some reason for her dreams. They put much trust into it, as mysterious as it seemed sometimes.

William called out, "Mother!" They looked over at their sons, who were standing together by William's horse. William was fidgeting, likely uncomfortable with goodbyes. "We should leave before it's too late in the day."

She nodded. "Yes, son." Turning to Balinor, a single tear escaped each of her eyes.

Balinor told her, devotedly, "You have my heart forever."

She smiled at him, sadly but lovingly. "And you mine. Always."

With final parting words, Hunith and William mounted their horses and headed to the west. Balinor and Merlin stood by their little hut, Balinor's hand rested on his son's shoulder, as they watched their two loved ones until they couldn't see them any longer.

**

Merlin had waited for a long time for something exciting to happen. He and his father had been hiding, tucked away in a cave deep in the forest, cut off from those that they loved. Cut of from the world.

Not once in the near two years did Merlin expect that excitement would present itself to him the way it did.

"Lower your weapon!"

Merlin's jaw dropped at the gall of the young man he was facing. The man was blond, quite fit, and likely only a couple years older than Merlin's own eighteen. And it was obvious by his clothing and the airs in which he carried himself that he was nobility.

And he had a sword pointed directly at Merlin.

Merlin was holding a tree branch. A thick one, yes, and held high over his head so that it could come down in a deadly blow -- he was quite certain of this -- but it really didn't have the same effect as a sword.

Merlin chided back, "Lower your weapon!"

It wasn't exactly a position Merlin wished to find himself that day. His father had sent him out into the forest to gather some plants to order to continue his studies in herbalism -- though, any potions they made usually went to waste, for there was no one to use them on. And his father had been very clear when he told Merlin to stay out of sight and to keep out of trouble.

After all that time living in a cave, with minimal interaction with anyone who wasn't his father, it really shouldn't be Merlin's fault that he was like a beacon beckoning to it.

But he hadn't expected such a dilemma to come in the form of a noble brandishing a sword.

His father would not be pleased.

The other man glared, sword pointed directly at Merlin. Though he seemed composed and made no move -- not towards Merlin nor to put the sword down.

Merlin's eyebrows rose. "Why are you in my forest?"

The man snorted. "These are not your forests," he replied pompously. "You're not nobility."

"Are you saying they're yours?" Merlin countered. Because, if they were, Merlin's father was going to be really upset with him for being caught unawares by the ruling nobility, even if he was quite pleased with himself for acting quickly enough to pick up a tree branch for defence.

The man's jaw twitched. He repeated, though calmer this time once he'd had the chance to assess the situation fully, "Lower your weapon."

Merlin couldn't stop the cheeky grin from crossing his face. "They're not yours, are they? Then I really don't see why I have to listen to the likes of you."

"Hold your tongue," the man said sharply. "You cannot address me that way."

Merlin realised that was probably true. Balinor had tried teaching him the etiquette of the court, mostly at Merlin's insistence, but it never really made much sense to him. It had been some abstract idea, nothing tangible for it to sink in.

"How about this? I'll put my very scary," Merlin said sarcastically, "weapon down as soon as you put down your sword."

"You should be thanking me for holding back as long as I have," the man countered, sneering at him. "Your insolence should not be tolerated."

"It's only because you're being such a prat about all this, really."

The stone look of the man morphed into shock, though it did not cause him to lower his weapon slightly. "You canno talk to me like that."

"It seems that we are at an impasse then, aren't we?" Merlin mused, not letting the arrogance of the other man get to him. He rather found this whole encounter amusing -- though he'd likely have to find a way out of it soon.

"As you so brilliantly pointed out," the man said with a smirk, stepping forward, causing Merlin to step back and nearly trip over a mound in the ground, "you're not all that scary, now are you?"

Merlin snapped, "What do you want?"

The man stopped his advancement. "I'm looking for a man," he said. "I was told he lived in these woods."

Merlin's entire body tensed. He scowled. "I live here," he offered. "Are you looking for me?"

The man laughed, sounding amused. Merlin noticed that his face now had a sheen of sweat covering his pale skin; his shoulder twitched a little under the strain of holding his sword.

Merlin didn't even wait for a pompous remark. Merlin asked, surprised by his own concern, "Are you all right?"

The man frowned for just an instant but a blank look took over his face again. "I'm not looking for you," he answered instead. "You're not old enough to be who I'm looking for."

"Then I can't help you," Merlin said, with a shrug.

"Do you know of a man named Balinor?"

Merlin didn't have enough experience to cover up his shock of the question and he certainly must have looked surprised. He glared and lied, "No, I don't."

"You do! Tell me," the man demanded.

"I don't have to tell you anything," Merlin retorted.

Merlin twitched as he watched the man let go of the sword with one hand, the point trembling as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin purse. "I'll make it worth your while."

Merlin shook his head. "Not to me."

His opponent was not happy with that. "I need to find him!" His sword wavered slightly as his arm shook. "Tell me!"

Merlin gripped his branch tighter and waved it in the air. "Not a chance."

"I command it."

"I don't care, I'm not telling you, you pompous--"

From the left, a voice travelled through the air -- his father's. "Merlin."

Merlin looked over, distracted. It had given the man the perfect chance to make a move. Suddenly, the branch was knocked out of Merlin's hands and flew through the air. In a second, the man was upon him, gripping the front of Merlin's tunic. The blade of his sword came to rest on Merlin's shoulder, just inches from his neck.

Balinor said, "Your quarrel is not with him." The man did not let go of Merlin but looked over at Merlin's father. Balinor continued, "I believe you're looking for me."

"Balinor?" the man said.

Merlin complained, "Father! What'd you do that for?"

Merlin was instantly let go as the man exclaimed, "Father? Balinor is your father?"

Merlin backed away from him. "Obviously."

"Merlin," Balinor scolded. He came up beside Merlin, putting a protective hand on Merlin's shoulder. Balinor's head bowed ever so slightly. "You shouldn't speak to a prince that way."

Merlin's outcry, "Prince?" was matched with man's question, "You know who I am?"

Balinor nodded, his wary eyes the prince. "Yes. You're Prince Arthur, of Camelot, aren't you?"

Merlin couldn't contain himself and it was he who answered, awestruck. "Prince. Of Camelot!"

Arthur nodded his head, though he looked suspiciously at Balinor. "It's true. How did you know that?"

"You have your mother's looks about you," Balinor said quietly.

Arthur looked a bit shocked at that, but he quickly covered it up. Ignoring that comment, he said, "I've come here seeking your assistance."

"Camelot has no reason to need me any longer."

"The Great Dragon has escaped," Arthur said urgently. "I have it on good authority that you're a Dragonlord."

That perked Merlin's interests. A dragon! Since he was a child, he had longed to see a dragon. He revelled in the stories his father would tell, often asking for them. Balinor had long run out of new stories but Merlin could listen to the same ones over and over. They were committed to his memories and he could recite them just as well, given the chance.

Balinor shook his head. "It doesn't matter what I am. I no longer have loyalty or love for Camelot."

"My people are being harmed, killed. The castle and town are being ravaged!" Arthur said passionately. Merlin noticed the beads of sweat gathering on his brow. "We need your help."

Balinor shook his head. "I cannot help the kingdom that ran me out. You don't understand, sire. Your father killed all my kind and he hunted me down. I will not help you."

Merlin glanced at his father. He was surprised with how cold he sounded, how unaffected by the plight of Camelot. "But, Father--"

Balinor cut him off. "No, Merlin."

Merlin's jaw snapped shut; he knew better than to argue with his father when he was like this. And it was certainly not an argument his father would allow him to have in front of a prince.

Merlin glanced at Arthur, almost apologetically. Arthur looked disheartened, as if the last piece of hope he held onto had washed away in a storm.

Arthur said angrily, "Then you doom us all."

"That happened a long time ago," Balinor said. "And it wasn't my doing."

"Please, I implore you. Reconsider this. Think of the consequences." Arthur ran his hand through his blond hair, the sun glinting off the ring on his finger.

Beside Merlin, his father made a surprised noise. Merlin looked at him, confused but Balinor was staring at the prince now.

"Father?"

Balinor frowned at Arthur. "Sire, are you all right? Do you not have anyone travelling with you?"

Arthur, his face now turned ashen, waved a hand dismissively. "Morris," he said. "Hurt his ankle, the idiot boy. I had to leave him to recover in a town on the edges of Camelot."

"Dangerous for you to travel, especially by yourself."

"I had to press on, there was no time to waste."

Merlin was impressed with Arthur's determination to find Balinor, to find a way to help his people. He mentioned, "And through Cendred's kingdom? I didn't think they liked you much here."

Arthur snorted. "They don't." He glanced at them suspiciously. "But if you think of turning me in, my father knows exactly where I've gone."

Balinor waved his hand. "My issues are with your father, not you, sire. We won't harm you, you have our word. Right, Merlin?"

"Sure thing," Merlin quipped. "I promise I won't even pick up a tree branch again."

For the first time, a small smile graced Arthur's face, though it did not seem to reach his eyes. He finally sheathed his sword. "Good to know."

Balinor said, "I think it's best if you rest, Prince Arthur, before you carry on your way. We don't have much but would you care to sup with us?"

"I would appreciate that," Arthur said with a small glint in his eye. Merlin internally rolled his eyes: if Arthur thought he could talk his father into joining him over a meagre meal, he thought wrong. Arthur continued, "My horse is tethered not far from here, however."

"Merlin, go retrieve the prince's horse."

"What!" Merlin cried out, miffed. "It's not like I'm his servant! He should get it himself."

"Merlin," Balinor warned.

Merlin grumbled, "Fine, fine."

Glancing up at Arthur, Merlin saw a smirk on his face. Arthur pointed, "That way."

Merlin narrowed his eyes but stomped off in the direction. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Arthur following Balinor, heading towards the cave where Merlin and his father lived.

**

When he returned to the cave, Merlin tethered Arthur's magnificent horse to a tree. Merlin found his father inside with an unconscious prince laying out on Merlin's bedroll. There were bloody bandages next to him on the rock floor.

"Father!" Merlin admonished. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, Merlin," Balinor said, shaking his head. "Prince Arthur collapsed before we made it back here. Look."

Merlin came in closer and saw Arthur's tunic was pushed back at the neck. There was a deep scratch from the top of his shoulder and down his collarbone, disappearing under his tunic as it travelled down his chest.

Balinor added, "From a dragon's claw."

"Really?" Merlin asked, fascinated, leaning down closer to get a better look.

Arthur stirred a bit, his eyes opening as he looked around, dazed. "Where …?"

"You're in my home," Balinor said, drawing Arthur's gaze to him. (Merlin had to keep in a retort about how a cave isn't actually a home and it was Arthur's father's fault for that but for once he was able to bite his tongue. It probably wouldn't be the best time.) Balinor asked, "Will you let me treat your wounds?"

Really, it was nice of his father to ask, but only an idiot would say no. Arthur nodded his consent and Balinor helped Arthur remove his tunic. Merlin gasped as he saw the ugly red mark ran down to the prince's abdomen, nearly down to his bellybutton.

"Right through my chain mail. Clawed from my stomach and up," Arthur murmured, falling back down to the bedroll, moaning in pain. "Dragons are dangerous."

"Only when provoked," Balinor said, examining the wound.

"Something about being chained up for twenty odd years, then?" Merlin suggested cheekily.

Arthur snorted. "And I didn't even know," he said. He looked at Balinor. "Didn't even know about your lot …" But his words trailed off as his eyes closed.

"What does he mean, didn't know?" Merlin questioned. "I mean, everyone knows about Dragonlords, don't they?"

"Merlin, I need you to collect some plants," Balinor answered, evading Merlin's comments. He rattled off a few and Merlin nodded, not even needing to be told to hurry.

When Merlin returned his father had a small fire started. He showed Merlin how to prepare a thick, yellowish paste. He applied it generously over Arthur's wound.

"This would be enough to help it heal," Balinor instructed. "It would take quite some time, of course, but it'll help it start to mend and remove some of the pain."

Merlin knew there was more to it then that, he could tell by Balinor's voice. "But?"

Balinor smiled at Merlin's enthusiasm. "But, as dragons are magical beasts, and this is a magical wound …"

"Magic would help it heal better," Merlin supplied. He glanced down at Arthur -- King Uther's son. Merlin had heard a lot about Uther, from his father and over the years from the stories that came out of Camelot. It was because of Uther that the use of magic was forbidden.

Merlin was torn -- as much as he loved magic, and absorbed every little bit his father would teach him, this was the prince of Camelot. Merlin frowned, "Are we going to do that?"

Balinor was thoughtful for a moment. "It would certainly help him, wouldn't it? But the downside to it would be--"

"It's illegal and he'd probably kill us for it," Merlin said dryly. "Which is so ridiculous! I mean, it's just magic--"

"Not here, son." Balinor stopped his rant before Merlin got out of control; Merlin often ranted on about the laws against magic and how it was a powerful and peaceful force, if people would just use it for good. It should not be outlawed, in Merlin's opinion, and it was his passion to talk about it.

Though, usually, that was just with his father. To do so in anyone else's presence, especially Arthur's, was not the best idea. It would be a deadly one, even.

"My guess, from what he's said, is that Arthur doesn't actually know that much about magic," Balinor mused. He frowned as he looked at the hand that rested on Arthur's stomach. "Just what his father has taught him, which is to fear and hate it."

Merlin sighed. "That's so sad."

"It is," Balinor agreed. "I think we should do it, though. We know it's to help, and if he's worried about his people, it would due for him to get back sooner, wouldn't it?"

Merlin nodded frantically. "Yes, yes, I agree." And, all right, Merlin had a slightly selfish reason too -- he wanted to see how the magic worked. But healing someone in the process was the ultimate goal, of course.

"Alright, then," Balinor said. He hand hovered over the Arthur's chest. He whispered an incantation -- words of the old religion, and Merlin committed them to memory. The paste that covered Arthur's wound glowed a faint gold before fading.

Balinor said, "It's done."

Merlin blinked. "That's it?"

"That's it."

"And people fear that."

Balinor looked sad. "No. They fear a lot more than that."

Merlin sighed again. "I know."

"Come now," Balinor said, standing from his crouched position. "We'll let him rest."

Merlin nodded, glancing at Arthur once more, and followed his father outside.

**

The following morning, Merlin was sitting on one of the large boulders outside the cave. At the creek not far away, Balinor was absently throwing pebbles into the water, obviously deep in thought.

Arthur exited the mouth of the cave. "I feel great," he said. He came over to stand next to Merlin's boulder. "What did your father do?"

"Medicinal paste," Merlin supplied. Merlin had watched that morning as Balinor had cleaned it off the prince. Arthur had stirred just enough to give consent but had fallen asleep again. Merlin had been amazed with the overnight healing that had happened; the wound was closed and was now just one long red scar over Arthur's body, the infection starved off and no longer open.

Merlin had been amazed, yes, but not surprised. He knew the positive power of magic.

"Well, whatever it was, it was brilliant," Arthur said.

"He used to apprentice with a court's physician," Merlin said, eyes still on his father. "When he lived in Camelot."

"Did he?" Arthur asked, surprised.

"Yes. A man named Gaius."

"I know Gaius."

"Do you?" Merlin said, interested. He glanced at Arthur and said sincerely, "I'd like to meet him someday."

"Perhaps you could," Arthur said.

Merlin narrowed his eyes with suspicion; Arthur was acting surprisingly pleasant to him, a contrast to his pompous behaviour the day before.

Arthur added, "If you and your father were to come to Camelot, you could meet Gaius."

"Ah ha!" Merlin said, shaking his head. "I knew your being nice was for ulterior motives."

"I will have you know I am the prince and of course I'm nice -- and charming, might I add."

Merlin snorted. "You're a bit of a prat, really."

"Merlin," Arthur said, sounding a bit exasperated. "You can't address me like that. You should call me sire, or my lord."

"Oh, right," Merlin said, shrugging.

"I suppose I shouldn't expect anything better from someone who was raised in a cave."

"Oi!" Merlin said, offended. "I was not raised in a cave. We've only been here for--" Merlin paused, frowning. "A while, but not always."

Arthur looked back at the cave and then tilted his head as he assessed Merlin. Finally, he asked, "Why are you here?"

"Running for our lives," Merlin said, unapologetically. "Apparently we didn't run far enough."

Arthur was quiet for a few moments. Finally, he said, "Your father won't be harmed if he came to Camelot."

Merlin snorted. "He's heard false promises before."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur looked put out with that accusation.

"How do we know it doesn't run in the family?"

Anger flashed in Arthur's eyes. "Are you daring to call my father -- the King -- a liar."

"A deceiver, maybe."

"You step out of line," Arthur said harshly. "And if we were in Camelot, this would be treason. Being thrown in the stocks would be the best punishment you could hope to receive."

"We're not in Camelot, are we?" Merlin snapped back. He threw his arms up in the air. "If you don't want to hear truths then don't bloody ask."

"You're not speaking truths."

"Do you even know what happened?" Merlin asked. "Why my father is on the run?" When Arthur didn't immediately answer, Merlin exclaimed, "You don't! How can you accuse me of lying when you don't even know what I'm talking about!"

Arthur jaw was set in a tense line and he breathed deeply, as if trying to calm himself. "Fine," he said tightly. "Tell me."

Merlin crossed his arms and scowled. "No."

"No?"

"No. You'll just throw me in the stocks."

"We're not in Camelot, Merlin," Arthur said, exasperated. "I'm not going to throw you in the stocks."

"If I ever get to Camelot to met Gaius, you will!"

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a terrible headache. And he had been feeling so well, too. "Merlin," he said, "I will not throw you in the stocks. At least, not for this. You seem a bit of an idiot and you'd likely do something stupid to get yourself thrown in the stocks on a regular basis. But, for this, I promise I will not throw you in the stocks."

"Oh, so you insult me and I'm supposed to just fall over my feet to tell you the truth?"

Arthur threw his hands up in the air with exasperation. "Fine! I'll go ask your father!"

"Okay, okay," Merlin said, placating. He could barely suppress his grin -- he had no idea it would be this easy to under the skin of a prince. But, mostly, he didn't want to stop talking to Arthur -- it'd been a terribly long time since Merlin went into the village and had the chance to talk to anyone who wasn't his father. This was kind of … nice. If not a bit frustrating.

Arthur crossed his arms, annoyed with Merlin. "Well, then. Out with it."

Merlin would not make this a soft story and he would spare Arthur none of the details. If Arthur really wanted to know then Merlin would tell him all of it.

"The reason my father escaped from Camelot was because he was to be executed."

"For being a Dragonlord," Arthur said. "I did know that part."

Merlin nodded. "Not all Dragonlords are -- were -- magic, you know. Some were, some weren't." Merlin shrugged. "But with the King's war against the dragons the Dragonlords were also victims of it. But King Uther wanted to end the war, to make peace. Or so he told my father," Merlin said. "My father brought the Great Dragon back to Camelot for peace talks. But the king went back on his word. He captured the dragon and ordered my father's death."

He looked at Arthur, who was watching him with a blank face. Merlin continued, "And my father escaped, with help."

"Gaius' help," Arthur said.

Merlin was a bit surprised that Arthur knew that. "Is that how you knew to look for him?"

Arthur nodded, and Merlin appreciated that he was honest with that. "That explains that," Merlin said, looking at his father. He was still standing by the creek. "My father was betrayed by yours, Arthur. If he chooses not to go to Camelot, I hope you understand why."

Arthur looked like he was struggling with Merlin's story; as if he didn't want to believe it but knew that there was truth for it. "I can't deny, I hope for Camelot's sake that he chooses to."

"For what it's worth, I hope he does too," Merlin offered.

Arthur looked at him, surprised. "Really?"

Merlin nodded. "My father is a good man; I hope he does what's right."

"And even with -- that story," Arthur said, struggling to find the words, "you still think it's right?"

"If it helps save people, of course," Merlin said honestly.

"I'm glad of you think so," Arthur said. He looked over to Balinor, who had started walking over towards the two young men. "Perhaps you can help me try to convince him into agreeing to come to Camelot."

Merlin laughed at that. "My father's mind is his own, and if he's made a decision, I won't be able to change it. But I will support him in his choice, Arthur." He looked at Arthur firmly. "Don't underestimate that."

Arthur looked at Merlin oddly but then he nodded slowly. "I understand."

Their conversation stopped as Balinor approached them. "Good morning, sire," Balinor greeted. "How are you feeling today?"

"Brilliant," Arthur answered. "Thank you for all your help." Balinor gave a small bow of his head but didn't say anything further. After a moment of awkward silence, Arthur went forward, "Forgive me for getting right to the point, but I have limited time here and must return to Camelot. Have you made a final decision?"

"I have," Balinor said. He looked steadily at Merlin and then glanced at Arthur. "I will go."

"Really?" Arthur asked, unrestrained relief crossing his features. "Great! That's -- great!"

A wide smile crossed Merlin's face. "It is great. But -- why?"

Arthur shot him a look, as if trying to tell him not to upset this decision. But Merlin needed to know.

"There are things I must atone for," Balinor answered. "And I destiny I'm to fulfil."

**

Arthur looked at Merlin, confused. "You know, for someone who wants to see Camelot, you don't look very excited about going. I mean, it's not the best circumstances to see the castle -- it's in a dreadful state right now -- but you look damn near depressed about it."

They'd been travelling for the day, on foot as Balinor and Merlin did not have horses. Arthur was slightly impatient and had urged them on quickly, but as it had been getting late in the day, they stopped in a clearing for a night. Balinor and Merlin had been gathering firewood, and Merlin had come back to their camp first. Arthur had started a small fire and Merlin threw some wood onto it.

Merlin sank to the ground beside it. "I'm not going," he said glumly.

"What do you mean, you're not going?"

While they were gathering the few things from the cave to take on their journey, Balinor had had a very serious conversation with Merlin -- one that had nearly thrown Merlin into fits. He had been told he wasn't allowed to go to Camelot.

"I'm travelling with you part of the day tomorrow, but then I will take my leave."

"Why?" Arthur asked, frowning.

Merlin sighed. "My father doesn't think it's safe for me."

"I promised you would be safe," Arthur said, annoyed. "Doesn't he believe me?"

"Oh, he believes you," Merlin reassured. "He just has -- apprehensions."

Arthur said flatly, "About my father."

Merlin shrugged. "I can't blame him, really." He sighed pitifully. "And I so want to see Camelot."

"Where will you go?"

"To the rest of my family," Merlin said, vaguely. He was under strict orders not to reveal where that was. But he smiled, honest and true. "It'll be good to see them again. It's been too long."

Arthur poked at the fire with a long branch. "Why were you apart from them?"

"Again, it was safer," Merlin answered. He asked, "Why are you so interested?"

"It's not like I find you fascinating or anything," Arthur said, arrogantly. "You're a bit common and you grew up in a cave."

"I did not!"

"You act like it," Arthur said. Looking at him, Merlin could see the prince was teasing.

"You're not particularly funny, you know that?" Merlin said, a mock scowl on his face.

"I'm quite witty, thank you very much."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Are all princes as arrogant as you?"

"Are all cave-dwellers as insolent as you?"

"Oi!" Merlin exclaimed. "Enough with the cave bit."

"I think not," Arthur said, laughing. "That is never going to get old."

"Well, I'll only have to endure you until tomorrow then, won't I?"

Arthur nodded. "Seems so. I'll have to do what I can to get my jabs in before then."

"Oh, brilliant," Merlin said sarcastically. "I can't wait."

Arthur chuckled a bit but he didn't say anything more. They fell into a comfortable silence, the fire crackling and the noises of the woods keeping them company while they waited for Balinor to return to the camp.

**

The attack from Cendred's men had been unexpected. The trio had been up at dawn and packing their camp, hoping to beginning travelling early. They'd be very near Camelot if they travelled hard all day; Arthur had decided to push on to Camelot and would send someone back to collect his servant.

Arthur was the only one to sense the ambush before it began, hearing the snap of twigs as someone approached their little camp. "Quiet," Arthur had hissed. He unsheathed his sword, creeping towards the sound.

Merlin picked up his own sword -- much less impressive then Arthur's and one that he hadn't had much chance to use. But he had at times sparred with Will, and then his father, and he knew what he was doing a bit. But he knew with the prince there, he couldn't use his magic to defend himself; his father had been very adamant that their magic be kept concealed.

Five men attacked them, jumping out of the bushes. Arthur easily covered two of them, moving with practiced ease. Balinor was more than able to hold his own even though he hadn't trained in years.

Merlin was doing fairly well, deflecting blows and delivering one himself that had one of Cendred's soldiers down to the ground. Yet another guard had jumped out at him, catching him by surprise, and Merlin's sword was knocked from his hand. Merlin's eyes went wide with fear as he backed up, and was just about to mutter an incantation to defend himself (prince be damned!) when the blade came at him -- and his father unexpectedly jumped in front of it.

"No!" Merlin yelled. He was at Balinor's back and could see his body twitch as the sword was driven through.

Merlin's magic had been simmering underneath his skin, ready to be used, and it released from him with a terrible yell. The attacker flew back through the air, hitting a thick tree truck with a deafening crack; he fell to the ground, unconscious if not dead.

Balinor tumbled backwards and fell into Merlin's arms. The weight of him was too much to hold up and Merlin brought them down to the ground, cradling his father's body as best he could. Merlin knelt beside him, his hands grabbing the lapels of Balinor's hide coat.

"Father. Father, no," Merlin said. "You're fine. You're fine."

"It's your turn now," Balinor said, his voice gasping. "You must go with Arthur."

Merlin pressed one of his hands to the wound of his father's stomach, trying to stop the flow of blood. It oozed between his fingers and soaked Balinor's tunic. "Father, you're fine," Merlin said, denying what he was being told, what he could see. "You're going to go and face Kilgharrah."

"Kilgharrah," Balinor said, voice becoming wispy and weak. "You must tell him I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Father--"

"Tell him that," Balinor insisted. "I'm proud of you, son, so proud. You'll be a fine Dragonlord. You know all you need to."

"You can't leave me," Merlin said. "I can't be anything without you."

"You'll be everything, Merlin," Balinor said. His body began to go slack in Merlin's arms. "I love you."

By this time, the tears were streaking Merlin's face. "I love you too." A sob was ripped from his throat. "I can't. Don't. You can't die."

But his words fell unheard. His father's eyes were closed and the life from him was gone.

Somewhere behind him, Merlin could hear Arthur cry out, "No!" It sounded positively anguished and he heard as Arthur ran over to them. Merlin tried wiping the tears from his face but he didn't think it helped.

Arthur dropped to the ground on the other side of Balinor. "Balinor!" he exclaimed, hand going to cover the wound.

Merlin choked out, "He's gone."

"Oh, Merlin," Arthur said. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The prince looked stricken as he added, "Camelot's doomed."

"No," Merlin said, and was surprised at the strength he had as looked at Arthur. "Camelot has hope."

Arthur shook his head. "It doesn't, anymore. Not without --"

"I'm going," Merlin said. Arthur looked at him, somewhat disbelieving, as if it didn't matter what Merlin said now.

"I'm going to Camelot," Merlin repeated. "I'll fight the dragon."

**

In Ealdor, Hunith woke up, her eyes flashing like the morning sun and tears were streaking down her face.

She swung her legs over the side of the little cot, hands wiping at her cheeks. When the sleep cleared her mind and she could focus on the images she saw, trying to understand them, she let out a heart wrenching sob.

"Mother?" Will asked. He'd already woken up and was preparing to go into the fields. He approached her bedside, a frown on his face. "Did you dream? What's wrong?"

She reached out, clasping his hands in hers and kept sobbing, unable to form the right words. William looked at her, worriedly, his large rough hands holding hers as lightly as he could. Finally, he pulled her into a hug. "Mother, please," he said into her ear. "Tell me, what's wrong?"

"It's your father," she said. "Balinor. He's -- he's dead."

William stiffened around her but he didn't say anything else, remaining completely silent. After a few moments, she noticed his tears drip onto her neck. They stayed that way, lost in their sorrow, long into the morning.

**

"Are you sure about this?" Arthur asked.

Merlin shook his head. "No, I'm not sure. I told you that. But do we have any other options?"

Arthur didn't look pleased with that answer but said, "No. No, I suppose we don't."

It had been a terribly long day. Merlin had sat by his father's dead body for what felt like an eternity, though he knew it couldn't have been very long. Arthur had finally prodded him with a gentle, "Come on, Merlin," and had helped Merlin dig a shallow grave for them to properly place Balinor in the ground. Merlin refused to do anything or go anywhere until he knew his father's body was cared for.

They found a couple horses tethered to a tree not far from their camp, likely from the fallen guards that had attacked. Merlin took one for his own so that they could travel even faster. They'd ridden all day, mostly in silence, pressing on hard. Arthur had finally stopped them for the night and they set up camp.

Now, they sat around the fire, dark settling around them. Merlin's body physically ached; he was not used to riding, especially not at such a pace. But mostly he was feeling emotionally drained; he'd travelled most of the day in a numb state, tears leaking down his face, though he had barely registered them.

Merlin stared into the fire. Neither he nor Arthur seemed to make any moves towards sleep; though he was tired, Merlin didn't think he'd be able to anyway.

They were discussing the plans for the next day and Merlin was trying to explain to Arthur what being a Dragonlord meant and how it worked. Arthur didn't seem to know any of it.

"So, it's passed down from father to son upon ... well ... " Arthur looked down, unable to say the words.

Merlin supplied blankly, "Death. Upon death."

"Yeah," Arthur said softly. "So you're the Dragonlord now?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"A Dragonlord doesn't know if he has the power until he faces his first dragon," Merlin answered. He added, a bit bitterly, "Since I can't wonder off into the woods and find one to test it out, I can't be sure until we get to Camelot."

"And you're really willing to do that? Face a dragon even though you might be useless?"

"That's not a very nice way of putting it."

"But it's true," Arthur said, frowning. "You might not actually be able to help."

"But I want to," Merlin said. "I want that chance."

"Why?" Arthur asked. "Why would you help us out? Why would you face a dragon when you know it might cost you your life? You have no ties to Camelot; if anyone should hate it, it's probably you."

Merlin sighed. He tried not to let the tears fall from his eyes but he wasn't sure he had any left anyway. "It's my responsibility."

"No," Arthur said firmly. "Camelot is my responsibility."

"No, I mean--" Merlin frowned, trying to find the right words to explain. "My father's responsibility, his commitments -- he was going to go to Camelot to help. And now that he's -- he's gone," Merlin said, fumbling only a little bit. He took in a deep breath to steady himself. "It's passed to me now. His son. The responsibility of being a Dragonlord belongs to me now. I'll follow in his footsteps. I'll help you. If I can."

Arthur remained silent for a moment, absorbing Merlin's claims. "You won't be alone," he said. "I'll be at your side to face it too."

Merlin offered a small smile that he genuinely felt. "Well, even though you're a bit of an arse, I'm glad for that."

Arthur snorted. "I hope you're a quick study."

"To fight a dragon? I imagine I'll have to be, won't I?"

"That too," Arthur said. "But I meant your manners. You won't last long enough to face a dragon if you keep acting that way. Believe it or not, you actually have to show me respect within Camelot."

Merlin nodded. "Yes, sire."

Arthur grinned. "See? You're learning already."

"Yeah," Merlin said, "I suppose I am."

Merlin fell into a melancholy silence, staring at the fire as he thought about what lay before him. He tried not to think of his father much but it was difficult. It was too fresh in his mind. All he wanted to do was curl up on the forest floor for days and days until the pain went away but he knew that wasn't an option. Not yet, anyway.

Arthur broke the silence again, not comfortable with it. "How come you don't know?"

Merlin glanced up at him. "Don't know what?"

"Whether or not you're actually a Dragonlord?" Arthur frowned. "Even if you haven't faced a dragon, it should be you now, right?"

"It depends on the balance."

"Balance?"

Merlin tilted his head as he remembered his father's stories. "For as long as anyone can remember, since the tales of the first dragon and Dragonlord, there has been a balance; for every dragon there was a lord. If there were more Dragonlords than dragons, the gift would not pass down to the next son. But if it was the other way, then it would reawaken when needed."

Arthur didn't look like he believed this explanation. "Well, how did the, uh, balance know?"

Merlin shrugged. "It is not governed by man or beast."

"What does that mean?"

"That nature takes care of itself. It knows what it needs." Merlin was careful not to bring up the old religion or to mention magic. The topic was dangerously close as it was and upsetting Arthur would not help at all.

Thankfully, Arthur didn't catch on to that; or if he didn't, he didn't say anything. He proposed, "So what you're saying is that it won't pass down to you if there's another Dragonlord?"

Merlin nodded. "Precisely. There's one dragon left; the balance will only need one Dragonlord." He shrugged. "What if there's another one out there? That escaped your father's notice or that no one knows about? Then I won't be able to help you."

"But you're willing to try?"

"Yes. Yes, I am. I -- I need to know."

"I understand," Arthur said. He seemed willing to let the subject drop for the moment, satisfied with Merlin's explanations. He threw another piece of wood onto the fire, and then he said, "I'm really sorry about your father."

"It wasn't your fault, Arthur," Merlin said dully. He wasn't interested in bringing it up anymore.

"It is," Arthur said. "I should've kept him safe."

"Because you needed his help."

"Because he was a good man," Arthur countered. "I didn't know him long, but I knew that about him."

The wind was suddenly knocked out of his chest and it felt like Merlin couldn't breath. The weight of the day's events felt as though it was starting to crush him. "He was," Merlin said. He winced at the sound of his own voice. "He was a good father."

"Yeah." Arthur dropped this two, as if realizing that it wasn't the best topic either. Arthur said, shortly, "You should sleep."

Merlin nodded, grateful for the idea, if it meant he didn't have to speak about it anymore. He settled onto his bedroll, drawing the travel blanket over him. The second he closed his eyes, though, he unwillingly pictured his father, lying on the ground and blood oozing from his side.

Merlin rolled away from Arthur, facing away from the fire. He pulled his blanket up around his shoulders. Merlin couldn't help it -- tears came to his eyes. He tried desperately to keep his sobs in; he thought he remained quiet but he couldn't stop his shoulders from shaking.

Eventually, he fell into a fitful sleep, full of his father and dragons.

**

When he woke, Merlin's head pounded with a tense ache; he felt as though he'd had too much ale and was now suffering the after effects of it. His eyes felt puffy and dry and he didn't doubt he looked a terrible state. When he swallowed it was as if his throat was lined with sand and he felt quite horrible.

If Arthur had heard his sobbing the night before, he didn't say anything to Merlin about it as they packed up their camp. Merlin was grateful for it.

"I just -- I'll be right back," Merlin mumbled to him.

Arthur looked as if he wanted to protest but said, "Don't be long, we have to get to Camelot."

Merlin nodded, keeping his eyes on the ground. He walked a bit to the creek that they'd set up their camp by and it was likely that Arthur could still see him as Merlin crouched down next to it.

Merlin cried. He still tried to keep it quiet, embarrassed that Arthur might overhear. But his shoulders shook and his lungs ached from not being able to breathe right.

After a while, he heard Arthur call out, "Merlin?"

Merlin coughed and called over his shoulder. "Be right there!" He winced at how horrible he sounded.

Merlin splashed water on his face, hoping to wash away the salty tears. He stood up and closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply, trying to even out his erratic breathing. He wanted to appear as if he hadn't been crying; as if it didn't feel like the whole world had crashed down on him in one day.

He decided the best thing he could do was just lock it all away. He remembered that Balinor had told him, once, when his own father -- Merlin's grandfather -- had died, Balinor had to face his new responsibility as best he could. He told Merlin that he held on to the memory of his father, but it was like he put it in a tiny box and locked it away in his heart, and only brought it out when the time was right, when it was appropriate, and Balinor could grieve little by little, on his own. But, at all other times, when he was at court or in lessons or with dragons, Balinor focussed on those things and not his own heartache, even though it was always there.

Because, as Balinor had said, he knew how important it was to face his destiny and not got lost in his own sorrow.

At his father's example, that was what Merlin was determined to do. He locked up Balinor in a chamber of his heart, to be saved for another time when it would be right to mourn, when there wasn't such a responsibility to face. His father would be with him always, and would not be forgotten and just like his father, Merlin refused to carry his sorrow like a burden.

Instead, he felt a bit numb, really, as if he couldn't feel anything at all. But he supposed that was just something he would have to deal with because it was better than the overwhelming pain that had coursed through his entire body the night before.

Merlin turned back towards Arthur, eyes dry, and faced his destiny.

**

The following morning was stilted and awkward. Merlin didn't particularly feel his like his normal chatty self and Arthur seemed to respect the emotional wall that Merlin had put up. They remained quiet as they rode along quickly, each lost in their own thoughts.

When they made it over a final hill, Merlin took in a deep breath. Before them was the city of Camelot. There were strong walls surrounding it and Merlin could see the castle rising high into the sky, overlooking the thatched-roof huts below.

Arthur brought his horse to a halt and Merlin rode up beside him. Arthur said, unnecessarily, but with a touch of relief, "Camelot."

"It's gorgeous," Merlin said, unable to contain his awe as he looked at the castle.

"It was in better shape before I met you," Arthur said.

Merlin could see that was true. Looking past the instant magnificence, he could see the damage it had suffered. Parts of the walls that fortified the large town were knocked down with huge gaps in them. There were black scorch marks that covered some of the buildings and many of them no longer had the thatched roofs.

"Come," Arthur said. "It doesn't look like they're under attack right now, we should be safe to get beyond the walls."

Merlin frowned. "How do you know?"

Arthur snorted and rolled his eyes. "Do you see a winged beast in the skies?"

"Oh. Right," Merlin said, a bit sheepishly. The sky was clear and they could see for miles around and there wasn't a dragon anywhere in sight.

"Let's go," Arthur said, kicking his heels and urging his horse forward. Merlin followed suit, staying close behind Arthur.

They were allowed inside as soon as it was realised that it was the Prince arriving. Inside the walls, Arthur dismounted his horse when he saw someone he knew.

"Sir Leon," Arthur called out to the man that approached them.

"Your highness," Sir Leon said, bowing his head. "We're happy to see you return."

"How fares the city against the dragon? Is it dead?" Arthur asked immediately.

Wouldn't that just be brilliant? Merlin thought. It's possible all this happened for nothing.

Sir Leon shook his head. "If only it were. The dragon attacked the city just once after you departed but it seems to have disappeared since then."

"Is that so?" Arthur asked, surprised. He glanced over at Merlin. "Well, then. Perhaps your services aren't required."

For the first time, Sir Leon took notice that Arthur was with someone. He looked at Merlin and frowned in confusion. "My lord, is this -- who you were looking for?"

"Not exactly," Arthur answered. "But he'll do."

"Gee, thanks," Merlin said, unable to mask the sarcasm.

Arthur's eyes bugged for a small moment and the arrogant airs he first had when Merlin met him in the forest returned. "Merlin," he said, voice grating on Merlin's nerves. "Do you realise where we are?"

"Uh, yes, Arth -- sire," he added when Arthur's eyebrows rose. He tried to keep the sarcastic bite out of his words but he wasn't sure he was very effective. "We're in Camelot."

"Very good, Merlin," Arthur said. "And do you know what they have in Camelot?"

"Well, not dragons."

"No, apparently not," Arthur said. "But they do have stocks. Mind yourself."

Merlin tried very hard to keep the scowl from his face. He didn't like the way that Arthur was treating him now. Not after what'd they'd been through. Even though they'd only known each other for a couple of days, Merlin thought they had got on quite well, before things had gone so badly the day before, and even with their silent morning.

Balinor's words and stories of Camelot and the way the courts were echoed through Merlin's memory. Merlin may not have first hand experience with it but he knew things were different in Camelot. It wasn't as though he and Arthur were, or even could be, friends.

"Of course, sire," Merlin said, a slight bow to his head.

"Don't mind him," Arthur said to Leon, clapping him momentarily on the arm. "He was raised in a cave."

"I was not!" Merlin protested, forgetting himself again.

"Right, right, you were only there for a while," Arthur said, waving his hand while giving Leon a significant look. Leon looked as though he was trying not to laugh.

Arthur's demeanour changed yet again, back to seriousness when he said, "I must speak to my father."

Sir Leon nodded. "He'll be happy to know you're back." The two of them turned towards the castle, walking side by side.

Merlin had no idea what to do with himself and stood awkwardly for a moment. Arthur glanced over his shoulder. "Merlin. Come on."

That was cue enough and Merlin hurried, falling in step behind Prince Arthur and Sir Leon.

Merlin had followed quietly, taking in as many of the sights around him as he could while keeping up with Arthur's brisk pace. He only paused once they were through the courtyard, up the stone steps, and had entered the castle.

There were banners of deep red with a golden dragon stitched magnificently in the centre of them and they were hung everywhere. The meaning hit Merlin like a punch to the gut, and he found it hard to breathe. He tried to keep up with Arthur but, too distracted, he paused.

He stopped in front of one of the banners, his fingers reaching out and tracing the Gold Dragon.

Arthur had noticed he wasn't being followed. "Merlin!" he hissed. He waved at Leon to go on and let his father know he would be there momentarily. Arthur walked over to Merlin. "You're not supposed to just grab any shiny thing you see, Merlin. I know it must all be a novelty, being in an actual building, never mind a castle," Arthur said sarcastically at him. "But get a hold of yourself. Now is not the time."

Merlin said distractedly, eyes still on the Gold Dragon. "But look at her."

"I've seen it -- her?" Arthur asked, frowning.

"The Gold Dragon, Arthur," Merlin said, finally looking at him sincerely.

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur said, trying not to roll his eyes, "it's my family's crest--"

"It's more than that," Merlin interrupted. "She's more than that. This is Pendra. Pendra the dragon." Merlin looked at Arthur significantly. "The Pendragon. It's where your family name comes from."

A look of surprise briefly flickered over Arthur's face but it disappeared quickly, almost as if it wasn't there at all. He scowled at Merlin. "Stop making things up."

"I'm not!" Merlin protested. He looked back at the banner, his fingertips running carefully over the embroidery. "It was said that she was connected to your family; protected and guided them, and all those linked to them. She seemed to be especially kind to Dragonlords as well, by my father's stories."

Arthur's jaw twitched. "What happened to her, then?" he asked reluctantly, not wanting to encourage Merlin's ramblings but likely curious to know where the story was going.

Merlin looked at Arthur, sadly. "What happened to all the dragons, Arthur?"

Arthur crossed his arms and looked at the banner. "Oh."

"Yeah," Merlin said, morose. "She had been the first one to go." Merlin knew, from what his father told him, that King Uther had been trying to make a point by it and he certainly succeeded. But Merlin was sure that, within these walls and with the King's son, that wasn't something he should bring up.

"The dragons got what they deserved," Arthur said, committed. Merlin looked at him, hurt, but didn't say anything else. Arthur added shortly, "Come on."

He turned on his heel and walked determinedly down the hallway. Merlin sighed and looked at the banner one last time but hurried to catch up.

**

Merlin was not used to the etiquettes of the courts, or being around so many people for that matter, but he quickly realised that being in the great hall of a king -- and one who would have him killed, were he to discover all of Merlin's secrets -- was quite possibly one of the most intimidating things he'd ever faced.

No, he was certain it was the most intimidating moment of his life.

The guards opened the grand doors and Merlin followed Arthur through, stopping a few feet behind Arthur when he paused in front of the king. "Sire," Arthur said, bowing. Merlin followed his cue and also bowed his head.

King Uther was sitting on his throne. To his left sat a young woman with raven hair and pale skin. She looked past Arthur and looked at Merlin; he thought she looked surprised to see him, although he had no clue why. There were others in the room as well, some obviously servants and others nobles but Merlin didn't know who any of them were or why they were all there. He felt uncomfortable as they all trained their eyes on him.

"Arthur," Uther said, sounding relieved, "you've made it back safely."

"Yes, Father," Arthur said. "With help along the way."

Uther looked past Arthur, his eyes fixed on Merlin, and frowned. "This isn't the Dragonlord Balinor."

"No, Father. Balinor died on the way back to Camelot. We were attacked by Cendred's men."

"It's a fine thing you weren't killed yourself," Uther said sternly. "I told you this would be dangerous, Arthur. And to what avail? We don't have a Dragonlord now. Not that we're in need of one anymore."

"Yes, Sir Leon told me," Arthur said. "What happened to the dragon?"

Uther shook his head. "No one knows," he said. "He left. For good, hopefully."

"Then we may be attacked again."

Uther nodded. "It's a serious possibility. But we'll be better prepared for it next time. We know how to strengthen our defences."

"And I can help with that," Arthur said. He looked back at Merlin. "Sire, this is Merlin, son of Balinor."

Merlin heard some small gasps throughout the hall, but he tried to keep his gaze fixed on Arthur. When Arthur turned back to his father, Merlin too looked at the king.

Merlin had no way of knowing how to read King Uther. He sat on his throne, hand up to his face and had one finger pressed against his lips in what could have been thoughtfulness. "Balinor's son?" Uther asked.

"Yes," Arthur answered. "Merlin was telling me how a Dragonlord's power passed from father to son upon death--"

Uther interrupted, "Has he now?" His eyes narrowed as he assessed Merlin. Merlin shifted under his harsh look. For the first time that day, tears pricked at Merlin's eyes; he had tried to hold them off since they left camp and his cheeks blushed with embarrassment to find it was happening at this very inconvenient time.

Uther continued, sounding unimpressed, "I wonder, what else has he been telling you?"

"Nothing, Father. Only about the ways of the Dragonlords."

"Yes, the Dragonlords. Which I'm sure he learned from his father, who was a fugitive running from the laws of Camelot."

Arthur sounded convicted as he countered his father. "Merlin chose to come here. He only wanted to help."

"He may have ulterior motives."

"I don't believe so," Arthur said strongly.

A sense of gratefulness washed over Merlin at Arthur's words, giving him more reassurance that he hadn't done the wrong thing in coming to Camelot.

Uther stated, "The power of the Dragonlords is dangerously close to that of magic."

And Merlin was deflated once again, cold worry icing his insides. He felt helpless as he stood there, unsure if he should cut in and defend himself or remain completely silent. Either could end up with him losing his head.

"But it may be needed," Arthur countered. "Our own defences, as strong as they may become, are no match for that beast. We need a Dragonlord if it is to return. To protect our people!"

Uther turned his cold stare to Merlin. "If my memory recalls, you don't know actually know if you have the powers yet, do you?"

Merlin shook his head, speaking in front of all these people for the first time. "No, your highness," Merlin said, remembering to address the king with the proper respect. "I will not know until I face my first dragon."

"That's what I thought," Uther said. "And were you expecting some sort of generosity from this court for services you may not be able to render?"

"I ... no. No, no of course not," Merlin stammered. He could see Arthur's shoulders tense and Merlin knew he wasn't making the best impression on the king. Merlin offered, rather helplessly, "I only wanted to help."

"As your help is not needed at this time, what am I to do with you until then?" Uther said. "Keep you in our dungeons until you're needed, perhaps."

It didn't sound very much like a question, rather more an idea that Uther could get behind, as thought it was an entirely acceptable solution to Merlin's presence in his kingdom.

Arthur had interjected immediately, "Sire, there must be something else for him to do."

Merlin was surprised that the young woman -- obviously a lady of the court -- sitting next to Uther also spoke up on Merlin's behalf. Her eyes flashed as she said, "Surely we can't treat him such a way! He lost his father and still came to help us. We should show him more respect than that."

"Morgana, it is not your place to decide," Uther said to her, words punctuated briskly.

"Obviously the poor boy has been through enough," she shot back. "I can't see how throwing him in the dungeons will make him all that willing to help."

"He will help if I command it," Uther boomed. "And there are consequences if he does not. Under the old laws of the Dragonlords, Balinor was my property, therefore his son is now. If I command his help, he will give it!"

"But the dungeons, Father--" Arthur said, just as the Lady Morgana protested, "--How can those laws even exist now!"

Uther cut them both off with a loud, "Enough!" The hall fell silent, save for Uther's demand echoing off the walls.

Merlin cleared his throat and said, loud and clear, "My lord."

Everyone in the room turned to look at him; it was as if they'd forgotten his very existence, even though they had been arguing over it quite vehemently. Merlin sensed that he'd become a pawn in some power struggle between the three but he'd also been taught enough by his father to know who, ultimately, made the final decisions.

The thought of being locked up in a cell terrified Merlin. Over the last couple years he'd grown so accustomed to the wide open spaces of the forest, wandering at his own leisure and not having to answer to anyone. But he knew times had changed.

With his father's death, there was a destiny set upon him and he would do what he could to fulfil it. He wanted nothing more than to fulfil his father's wishes, and he would sacrifice as his father had sacrificed for him.

"My lord," Merlin repeated. His entire body shook from nervousness, but he bowed deeply. He bowed as his father taught him was the way of the Dragonlords; on one knee, one hand brushing the ground before him. He stood up and looked at the King unflinchingly. "My father taught me the ways of the Dragonlords and the laws. My power, if I indeed carry it, is for your use. I will wait until you send me into battle. If it eases your mind to have me in a cell until such a time it's needed, I understand. But please know my loyalty to you and the court of Camelot. If I am allowed to remain free, I will not flee."

Merlin glanced at Arthur and saw the prince looked a bit awestruck at Merlin's sweeping statement. But his jaw clicked as he snapped it closed and he turned back to his father. Arthur said, "I've only known him a short time, but I will vouch for his sincerity. I believe what he says is true. He will stay until he is called upon."

Uther still looked unconvinced and Merlin braced himself for the order to have him dragged down to the dungeons. But, finally, Uther said, "What are we to do with you until you're able to help?"

"I've worked the fields," Merlin offered. He gulped, and then added, "And my father taught me the things he learned while an apprentice to a physician."

An older man with straight silver hair that brushed against his shoulders stepped forward. "My lord, may I put forth a suggestion."

Uther glanced over at him. "Gaius, I would expect nothing less coming from you. Though, where Dragonlords are concerned, I'm not entirely sure I trust your judgment anymore."

Merlin could hear a murmur throughout the crowd again, but Gaius only addressed the king with the utmost respect. "I was going to suggest that perhaps Merlin work with me. I could use the help and if he already has a basic knowledge then he can be made useful."

Uther was quite for a moment, weighing the options. Finally, he said, "So be it."

Merlin let go of a breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding and he let a smile tug at his lips. Beside the king, Morgana was smiling knowingly, and it even seemed as if Arthur relaxed.

Merlin bowed his head, "Thank you, my lord."

"There will be a guard posted outside Gaius' chambers," Uther said. Merlin blinked at him and his smile faded slightly. Morgana glared at Uther but made no other comments. "Any time you leave, you will be accompanied. I will not have you running around Camelot on your own. You will be under watch constantly. Is that understood?"

"Yes, your highness."

"Do not forget my clemency," King Uther said, unrelenting as he looked at Merlin.

"I won't. Thank you, sire."

King Uther waved his hand to dismiss Merlin and Gaius stepped forward. "Come, Merlin," Gaius said. "I will show you to my chambers."

As they walked away, Merlin said, "I'm glad to finally meet you."

"I'm glad to meet you too," Gaius said, with a smile, lightly grabbing Merlin's elbow. "There is much for us to discuss."

Merlin nodded. Right before they exited the hall, Merlin glanced over his shoulder, eyes seeking out Arthur. He was sitting in a throne beside the king, head bent over in discussion. But he glanced at Merlin and their eyes met for a brief moment. Merlin offered a little wave of his hand. He swore Arthur's lip curled up but it was gone in an instant as he looked back at his father.

**

"I've been expecting you," Gaius said to Merlin.

"Pardon?" Merlin glanced up in surprise from the bowl of porridge he'd been leaned over. He had been unexpectedly starving and appreciated the food Gaius had prepared for him as soon as they arrived to his chambers.

"I received a letter from your mother some months ago," Gaius said. "From Ealdor. She told me that someday you would be coming here and that I should keep an eye out for you."

"Did she?" Merlin asked. It didn't exactly surprise him that his mother knew but he wondered how much she knew. "Had she -- did she mention anything about my father?"

"Just that you two had been living together and would be setting out for Camelot some day."

Tears stung Merlin's eyes. He said sadly, "So she might not know."

Gaius said softly, "We both know that she likely does, by now."

Merlin nodded his head. "Yeah." He tried to take another spoonful of his food but it seemed as though he'd lost his appetite. It clattered back into his bowl.

Gaius made an effort to continue the conversation. "She also mentioned that you have some of your father's … talents."

Merlin froze. He dragged his eyes up to Gaius slowly, meeting a questioning gaze. Tentatively Merlin said, "We don't know that yet, do we?"

"Not only Dragonlord powers," Gaius clarified unnecessarily.

"Well," Merlin said slowly, "if I were to have those -- talents, as you put it -- it's not really something I should discuss, should it?"

"Very good," Gaius said. "That's exactly the attitude you must take here in Camelot." Gaius looked at him sternly. "If you were to have them it is imperative they not be revealed."

Merlin sighed. "Then what's the point, then?"

"All in good time," Gaius said. "We must be patient."

"For what?" Merlin retorted. "Uther to realise that magic isn't evil?"

"Shush," Gaius said harshly. His chin bobbed towards the door, where Merlin presumed a guard was posted. The thought of it flushed Merlin with anger; sure, he'd got out of being thrown in a dungeon but not to be trusted because of a power he may or may not have was frustrating. The humiliation of the situation was starting to soak into his tired bones.

"Right," Merlin said dully. "Mustn't do or say anything wrong."

"Not if you want to keep your head, you don't," Gaius intoned.

Merlin sighed and nodded. He wondered how much his mother had told Gaius. That he had magic like his father but that Merlin's was so much -- more. Different. But Merlin was beginning to become tired, and as Gaius pointed out, it was not the right time to discuss it. It seemed as though there may never be one and it was beginning to depress Merlin.

"Do you mind if I rest?" Merlin said. The events of the previous days, plus the situation he now found himself in, suddenly felt rather overwhelming. "It's been a long couple days."

"Of course," Gaius said. "Of course, I'm sorry. I should've thought of that."

Merlin shook his head. "It's fine. I'm just tired." He tried to add on encouragingly, though it sounded awfully strained, "We'll talk later."

"Yes, we will," Gaius said. "Let me show you to where you can stay."

Gaius took him up a short set of steps that led to a room. It was larger than most of the huts Merlin had ever lived in and definitely bigger than his and his father's cave. And there, magnificently, was a real bed. He'd never had one of those before, either.

He sank down into it and stared up at the ceiling. He sighed heavily, reaching into himself and thinking about his father. It didn't hit him with a gale force like before but a couple of tears did streak down his face.

He brushed them away and turned over to his side. It took little time for sleep to lull over him, coaxing him into a darkness where he didn't have to think or feel anything at all.

**

William made his way from Ealdor as quickly as he could. His pack was filled with a spare change of clothing and some food, and his father's old map tucked away carefully. He had an old sword but it was sharpened and would be quite useful if needed.

He hadn't travelled by himself before. He'd always been with his father, mother, and Merlin; or, more recently, with his mother as they made their way back to Ealdor. But that had been quite some time ago, and the two of them had been accepted back into the village without much suspicion.

Never before had William thought he'd be travelling to Camelot. And he really had no idea why Merlin would be there, but according to his mother, he would be soon if not already.

William was determined to find Merlin. Camelot, and a man named Gaius, was where he was to start. He didn't like leaving his mother by herself and Balinor probably would've boxed William's ears for it, but. Well. William was the man of the family now. It was his decision, and Hunith was so worried for her other son, she hadn't stopped him.

William pressed on through the forests and over the roads as quickly as he could, rarely stopping for rest or sleep.

He only made one detour, early on in his journey, at the Ridge of Asceteir.

William wasn't a Dragonlord and he had no real connection to the Ridge, none other than Balinor and Merlin. But out of respect for his fallen father he wanted to go there. William didn't even know what to do or what to say, but he wanted to whisper a final goodbye to Balinor. It was the best he could do without actually being there when Balinor died.

Of course, William never once suspected that he'd be sharing a perch on the Ridge with an actual dragon.

William had climbed up the ridge, which hadn't taken him too long, as there was a small stone path carved out. It was uneven and slick in some places so that one wrong step would cause anyone to slip back down to the bottom. But he'd navigated his way up and sat for a few moments. He was just about to make his way back down when the sun disappeared and shade fell over him.

William's first thought was that a rain cloud had moved in, which would dampen his journey, but as he looked up he saw a great yellowish-green winged beast gliding down to the ridge.

Will scrambled out of the way because if he hadn't he would've been crushed under one of the dragon's great big claws. William pushed himself up against the natural stone wall, coughing on the dust that flew up under the dragon's weight.

It looked at him immediately, large yellow eyes staring down into his soul. William's heart was pounding so rapidly that he thought it would leap out of his chest.

He thought that he was doomed. He might be Balinor's son but he was no Dragonlord. Merlin was the one who would get that privilege and it should've been Merlin standing there, ready to take the beast on.

But the dragon made no move towards William, no great snap of powerful jaws to swallow him up. He just looked at William, and a grumbling voice said, "This place is not for you."

William blinked. He couldn't even muster up the courage to make a peep.

"You can be forgiven because we're here for the same reason."

William stumbled over his words, "Yes. All right, then. Thanks."

"But you must leave now. You're a son but not the son." The dragon's head tilted to the side. "Hurry to him and tell him I'm coming."

"I -- all right, then. Yes." William had trouble forming any other words or thoughts.

The dragon chuckled and it looked as though he was grinning -- William had no idea that dragons could even do that. It said, humorously, "I will race you. I will even give you a head start."

In Williams's opinion, that was an entirely terrifying thought. And a completely useless contest because there was no way he could ever beat a dragon at anything.

He inched along the rock wall towards the path and hurried down it as quickly as he could, slipping and tumbling down near the bottom. But he jumped to his feet, ignoring the bleeding scrapes on his hands, and rushed away quickly.

Not to far from the Ridge, William couldn't help but look over his shoulder. He could see the dragon still on the ledge near the top. Its tail hung over the edge, curling a bit and moving lazily through the air. The dragon's head was rested on the ground and its eyes were closed.

One opened for a moment, looking directly at Will.

Will turned on his heels and hurriedly made his way towards Camelot and Merlin.

**

The light filtering in the window streaked across Merlin's face, drawing him from sleep. Merlin tried to avoid it, rolling over -- and found himself falling face first to the floor with a thud.

"What?" Merlin asked himself as he rolled over, feet getting caught in the blanket that had followed him to the floor. Lying on his back, he looked up at the ceiling.

Ah, right. He was in Gaius' chambers. And he'd gotten to sleep in a real bed -- though his body hadn't realised it couldn't roll right over without some consequences such as him falling right out of it. He'd never had that problem before in caves and the dirt floors of huts.

He looked around the room and wondered if this was the very same place that Balinor stayed so frequently when he was younger. But the thought only gave him a little bit of sadness; mostly, it sort of comforted Merlin, knowing it could be true.

Merlin hauled himself up off the floor and shuffled down the steps, finding Gaius sitting at a table in the main room.

"Hullo," Merlin said.

Gaius glanced at him. "You look better."

"I feel better," Merlin said, stretching his arms over his head. "That was a good nap."

"Nap?" Gaius asked, amused. "You've been asleep since yesterday."

"What?" Merlin asked, shocked. His arms dropped to his side and he looked out the window. "Have I really?"

Giaus nodded. "But I think you needed it."

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Those were delivered for you," Gaius said, pointing to a couple packs on the floor.

"Oh, brilliant, my things," Merlin said, going to the packs. He rummaged around in them; it didn't take long as he didn't have much. He added, surprised, "It's all here."

"They were with the prince's belongings. No one would dare take any."

"Good point," Merlin said.

"He stopped by here last night," Gaius said.

Merlin looked over at him. "Who? Arthur?"

Gaius nodded. "Yes. He asked after you."

"Really?" That surprised Merlin.

"Just to make sure you were settled and your belongings were delivered."

"Ah," Merlin said, nodding.

"He said he worried you wouldn't be accustomed to anything that wasn't a cave and wanted to make sure you weren't going a bit crazy within actual walls."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Of course he did, the prat."

"Merlin!" Gaius scolded. "You can't talk about the prince like that."

"Oh, believe me, I know," Merlin assured. "He's told me."

Gaius blinked. "You've said that to his face?"

"Several times, in fact," Merlin said. "Just because I'm not supposed to say it doesn't mean it isn't true."

"Merlin, you really must watch yourself here in Camelot. Such insolence will not go unnoticed. Being a Dragonlord does not give you a special privilege; in fact, it already makes Uther suspicious."

Merlin sighed. "I know, Gaius. I'll try to be better."

"Don't try, Merlin. Do be better. We don't want anything to befall you."

"Yes, Gaius," Merlin said, starting to feel a bit annoyed with being scolded.

Gaius sighed softly. "Merlin, I'm not your father." Merlin's body went stiff at that, uncomfortable. Gaius continued, "But both your parents are very special and dear to me. For their sakes', I pledge to look after you. Do you understand?"

Merlin glanced down, cheeks flushing. "Yes."

"Good," Gaius said. More lightly, he added, "So no more insulting Arthur! You'll end up in the stocks, at the very least."

Merlin couldn't help but smile when he thought of Arthur's frustration with him and the constant threat of the stocks. "Okay, Gaius," Merlin said, gentler. "I'll be good."

"Good," Gauis said. "Arthur also asked to have his wound examined."

"My father and I took good care of it," Merlin said, a bit defensively.

"Extremely good," Gaius said. "Please tell me Arthur was unaware of how good?"

"Oh, that," Merlin said. Carefully, he said, "The depth of the wound did cause him to fall unconscious more than once."

Gaius nodded. "I was hoping that was your answer."

Merlin grinned and shrugged. "At least he's better now."

"Very true," Gaius said.

"I liked learning," Merlin offered. "Whatever my father had to teach me. About medicine," he said, glancing at the door where undoubtedly there was still a guard posted. "I'm eager to learn whatever I can from you."

"I'm glad to hear that. Your father was a good student," Gaius said. "In medicin as well other … talents."

Merlin smiled, a bit sadly. "He was a good man."

Gaius clapped Merlin on the shoulder. "He was," he said softly. "And I see a lot of him in you."

Merlin smiled. "I -- thank you."

"You're welcome." That was the end of the sentiments as Gaius said, more briskly, "Your lay-in has put us a bit behind schedule today. Come now, eat quickly," he said, pushing a bowl towards Merlin. "We've much to do today."

**

Over the next few days, Merlin shadowed Gaius, joining him on his daily errands all over Camelot. Merlin liked seeing the different places they visited; up in the castle or down in the lower town. He asked Gaius an endless string of questions regarding daily life and all the activities that occurred around the city.

Gaius patiently, or sometimes not quite as patiently, explained all he could for Merlin's attentive ears. He even went above and beyond, explaining things that Merlin hadn't even thought to ask.

Camelot was not as it usually was, Gaius had said. There was a lot of reconstruction going on after the dragon attacks. The city bustled with activity as people tried to refortify the castle's defences. However, Gaius and Merlin had other responsibilities to attend.

All the while, they were followed around by a guard who didn't let Merlin out of his sight. At times, Merlin found it rather annoying, but for the most part, he would include the guard in his conversations. The response back really depended on who the guard of the day was; sometimes he was ignored but at others his questions were answered. Mostly, Merlin hoped he would prove his loyalty, and display his sincere wish to stay in Camelot and one day he would be allowed to live without someone's constant watchful eye.

The death of his father still weighed heavily on him, though it was usually at night before bed, or any time his mind was idle, that it hurt him the most. During his busy days, it was just a dull ache in the back of his mind, but Merlin found he was feeling more and more like himself; a little bit happier, and he found reasons to smile again.

He still missed his mother and William terribly. "Perhaps you can write them a letter," Gaius said. "I can make sure it is delivered to them."

"Oh, I don't know," Merlin said uncomfortably, shifting on the bench at Gaius' work table.

Gaius looked over at him with an eyebrow raised. "Merlin. You do know how to read and write?"

"Yes!" Merlin proclaimed immediately. "Mother and Father made sure we could read. We learned at a young age, Will and I." Merlin had told Gaius all about Will and how he was in their family too and Gaius didn't seem it unusual that Merlin referred to William as an older brother. He explained it was somewhat similar to a situation within the royal household and how the Lady Morgana was the King's ward. Sometimes, people found themselves in a family not by blood but it didn't mean they weren't family.

Merlin continued, embarrassed, "I'm just not -- you see, there wasn't a reason to write, really. So I'm not good at it. My mother probably won't be able to understand what I'm saying. But I read good!"

"Well," Gaius said. "You read well."

"Yes, right."

Gaius looked at him and then nodded as if he made a decision. "I'll help you practice in the evenings. There is plenty of material I could have written up and you can help. And when you're ready, you can send a letter to your mother."

"Okay," Merlin said, enthusiastically. "That would be great!"

"In the meantime, I could write her a letter? It's been much too long," Gaius said. "And you can add a smaller note at the bottom, if you'd like. I'll help you."

Merlin smiled gratefully. "That would be really nice, Gaius. Thank you."

Gaius beamed. "Anything for family."

**

Merlin found that he was rather bothered by Arthur's attitude towards him.

Certainly, it wasn't as though they were friends. Merlin had learned enough about the court to know that the Prince didn't spend much time with anyone but his knights or perhaps other lords. But Merlin had wanted to at least thank Arthur for defending him the way he had that first day Merlin was in Camelot.

But Merlin found out quickly that Arthur really didn't want to have anything to do with him at all.

Merlin was running an errand for Gaius and having to go into the lower town, his guard close on his heels. On the way, he'd spied Arthur with two other young men, who Merlin could only assume were nobles. He went to approach them, and he knew, just knew that Arthur saw him.

And Arthur suddenly turned around, casually as if it hadn't been on purpose, and laughed with his friends as he led them down the opposite side of the street.

Merlin fumed and vowed that he would, in fact, never talk to Arthur again, let alone thank him for anything.

But, of course, Arthur seemed to have other ideas in mind.

The following day, Merlin was standing by the well, speaking with Gwen. Gwen was Lady Morgana's handmaid and Gaius had introduced the two when they ran into her in the castle the first day Merlin had worked with Gaius.

Merlin found Gwen to be very kind and he liked her quite a lot. She seemed a bit shy at first, and stammered over her words when she thought she offended Merlin with her questions, but Merlin just laughed and shook it off, happy to talk with her. He suspected some of the things he said threw her off, or surprised her, but she didn't seemed too bothered by what Gaius was now constantly referring to as his 'horrible social manners.'

Arthur approached them, with a pompous smirk, and interrupted Merlin mid-sentence. "Hello, Guinevere. Merlin."

"Oh," Merlin said flatly. "It's you." He turned back to Gwen to finish what he was saying.

Gwen's eyes were huge with shock and it was her odd look that cut Merlin off. She said to Arthur, "Hullo, sire."

"Oh, look," Arthur said, clasping Merlin tightly by the neck as he gestured at Gwen. "Someone who actually knows her manners."

"Yes, it certainly isn't you, the way you interrupted."

Gwen hissed, "Merlin."

"Yes, he is a bit rude, isn't he," Arthur said, almost conversationally. "Did you know he grew up in a cave?"

"Not always," Gwen defended Merlin. Arthur scowled when Merlin laughed. Gwen blushed and quickly added, "Sire."

"See, someone who listens to me!" Merlin put in. "And who isn't a pr--"

"Merlin," Arthur cut him off, voice remarkably restrained, as he seemed to know where Merlin was going with his insult. "Remember that thing I told you about the stocks?"

"I remember you promising not to put me in them," Merlin said hopefully.

Gwen looked at Merlin, then back to Arthur, and then to Merlin. She said, "I'll see you later, Merlin." She bowed her head to Arthur. "Sire."

"Goodbye, Guinevere," Arthur said.

Merlin could tell she was trying not to smile as she walked away. "See you later!" Merlin said cheerfully.

He cast a scowl at Arthur. "If you would excuse me, I have things to do for Gaius." He tried to walk away but Arthur's hand was still firm on his neck.

"You still don't seem to understand how this works," Arthur said. "I -- the prince -- decide when and where we talk. You -- not the prince -- do not. Understood?"

Merlin huffed and tried not to roll his eyes. "Fine," he said. Adding dryly, "What can I do for you, my lord?"

Arthur's hand dropped. "I saw you yesterday."

Merlin gaped. "You saw me and walked away."

"Yes, well, I was busy," Arthur said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You can't just try to approach me like that."

Merlin said dryly, "I gathered."

Arthur asked, arrogantly, "Well, on with it then."

"On with what?" Merlin was confused.

"With whatever it is you wanted to say yesterday that has put you in a right strop."

"I am not in a strop!"

"There's no need to hide it, Merlin," Arthur said, smirking. "There was something direly important you wished to tell me, obviously. Out with it."

"It was nothing," Merlin said, fake nicety dripping off his words. "Everything is great, my lord. Now, if you would please excuse me, I really must go." He turned on his heel and walked away.

Tried to walk away, as the case was. Merlin only walked about five strides before Arthur called after him. "Merlin! Stop."

Merlin was tempted to keep on walking but he also didn't want to test Arthur's threats of being thrown in the stocks right at the moment. Gaius would be none to pleased, with his constant insistence that Merlin continue to stay relatively unnoticed.

Merlin turned back to Arthur. "Sire?"

Arthur frowned as he approached him, the mocking demeanour he previously had slipped from his features. His mouth open for a second before he snapped it shut again. Finally, he asked, "How are you doing, here in Camelot?"

Merlin blinked at him, surprised. "Doing?"

"Yes, you know," Arthur said, waving a hand through the air. "Settling. Working with Gaius. After everything that happened." He sounded a little hesitant with saying the last bit, which surprised Merlin.

Merlin supplied, "With my father?"

"Yes," Arthur said, awkwardly.

Merlin was very tempted to make some smart remark but was quite thrown off by the effort Arthur was putting into it. "I'm fine," he said, honestly. "I mean, there's a lot of people to get used to and things here are so -- different." Merlin did what he could to avoid any remarks about his previous living conditions so that Arthur didn't fall into his habit of mocking him. "I don't particularly enjoy being watched every second of the day," he added, nodding his head to the guard that was situated a few feet from them.

"Ah, yes," Arthur said, glancing over. "I hope you understand about that."

"Not really," Merlin said. "I'm not going to go anyway. By the Codes of the Dragonlords, I'm bound to Camelot now. I'm not going to break that."

Arthur looked at him, oddly, as if he couldn't quite understand Merlin. "I know," Arthur said. "I believe that."

"I -- I know," Merlin said, unsure how to say it. "That's what I wanted to say yesterday."

Arthur's raised one eyebrow. "I'm not following."

"Thank you," Merlin offered. "For believing that. And for saying so to the king."

"Right, that." Arthur shrugged. "It was the least I could do, after what had happened to your father."

"Arthur," Merlin said, finally catching on to what Arthur could possibly be thinking. "You know that wasn't your fault, don't you? You're not responsible for my father's death."

Arthur shifted, uncomfortable, twirling the ring on his forefinger. He frowned. "It wouldn't have happened, if I hadn't have come."

"He saved my life," Merlin said, "by jumping in front of that sword. Whether or not it was in that moment -- it very well could have been his destiny."

Arthur shook his head. "Your family keeps bringing that up."

"What?" Merlin asked. "Destiny?"

"Yes," he said. "It's as if you live by it."

"We do," Merlin said honestly. "Always have. Don't you?"

"No," Arthur answered. "A man makes his own choices."

"He does," Merlin agreed. "And all choices in life lead to one place."

Arthur asked doubtfully, "Destiny?"

"Yes."

"So, Merlin," Arthur asked, and his mocking tone had returned. "What's your destiny?"

"I don't know yet," Merlin said honestly. He grinned. "I just try to get by day by day."

"Don't we all?" Arthur asked rhetorically. "Well, Merlin, I'll leave you to your day and destiny."

"Thank you, sire," Merlin said, a small smile on his face. "I have very important things to do, don't you know. I am a Dragonlord, in case you haven't heard."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "A frightfully useless one right now, at that. I'm sure to be seeing you later. Stay out of trouble, will you?"

"Keep me out of the stocks and I will!" Merlin jested with a grin.

Arthur turned and walked away, throwing over his shoulder, "Keep yourself out of the stocks."

Merlin chuckled and then hurried to find Gaius.

**

Camelot was definitely the biggest place that William had ever been. His family hadn't gone to the castle in Cendred's kingdom, nor visited any of the larger towns, for they always wished to stay unnoticed. It was easier to do that if keeping away from the lords of the land.

Despite the sights around him, Will was very focussed. He worked his way through the streets, keeping his eye on the castle that raised up high above all the other buildings. His mother had said that was where Gaius would be.

He approached the castle and walked through the court yard, looking around and trying to find out where he should try going.

Will bumped right into someone, not seeing them when he was looking at the gargoyles high on the castle walls.

"Sorry," he said, looking to the person in front of him.

It was a very pretty girl with curly hair and dark skin. She was carrying a heavy bucket. "It's all right," she said with a small smile as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Do you know where I can find Gaius?" he asked.

She looked him up and down, taking in his travelled state; his dusty clothes and smudged face. "There's a physician in the lower town," she said, politely.

"I, no." He frowned. Why wouldn't he be able to see Gaius? He continued. "I don't need to see a physician, I need to see Gaius."

"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry," she stuttered shyly. "It's just, unless you -- but, of course. Is he a friend?"

"Of the family," he said. He may not know Gaius personally but he hoped that was enough to get him close to him.

"All right," the woman said trustingly. "I'll show you, follow me. I'm Gwen, by the way," she added as she started to walk up to the stone steps.

"Will," he said shortly.

"You're not from around here," she said, trying to create conversation.

He wasn't all that interested, right then. Answering briefly, he said, "No, I'm not."

Gwen frowned at his shortness but she didn't push it any further. Pointing down a corridor, telling him to turn right and then left and then right again, Gwen left him to find his way. He remembered to shout out a parting thank you and Gwen gave him a small wave over her shoulder in return.

He followed her directions and made his way up a short set of stone steps. He came to the door he thought was where Gwen told him to go but found a guard posted outside of it.

The guard barked, "What's your business?"

Will retorted, "What is it of yours?"

The guard scowled back. "You are not allowed here. Leave."

"I'm here to see Gaius."

"He's not expecting you."

Will rolled his eyes. "He's a physician, does he expect everyone?"

The guard looked him up and down, much the way Gwen had. "There's a physician--"

"--in the town, yes," Will finished. "I've heard. I need to see Gaius."

"Move along," the guard said. "Now."

From behind him, Will heard a voice, "What is this?"

Turning around, he saw a blond man wearing fine clothing coming up the stairs.

"I'm here to see--"

The guard cut him off, "Nothing, sire. He was just moving along." The guard looked at him pointedly. "Move along."

Will said stubbornly, "I'm here to see Gaius."

The man asked, "Is he expecting you?"

The guard promptly answered, "No."

The man waved his hand dismissively. "Move along."

"I will not," William said stubbornly. "I don't care if you're the bloody king, I am not leaving until I speak with Gaius!"

The man's eyes narrowed. "I'm not the king," he said arrogantly, "but I'm close enough." He gestured to the guard. "Seize him."

The guard grabbed his arms and Will did the only thing he could -- he started struggling and yell loudly. "GAIUS!"

**

Merlin and Gaius were in Gauis' chambers, grabbing a quick bite to eat before running afternoon errands when they heard a commotion outside the door.

"Gaius!"

Merlin's head snapped up. "That sounded like Will."

"Sit," Gaius said sternly as Merlin moved to stand up. "I'll handle this."

Gaius opened the door and stuck his head out, asking what was going on. Merlin knew he heard Will's voice trying to explain.

Merlin immediately stood up, rushing to the door. He yelled out, "William!"

"Merlin!"

Merlin could hear a scuffle and a yelp. Gaius' door slammed all the way open as Will rushed into the room, looking worse for wear and with a limping guard following close behind.

"Merlin!" William said.

With unexpected joy at seeing his brother, Merlin threw his arms around Will's shoulders. "What are you doing here?"

Merlin heard Arthur say, "Wait." Glancing over Will's shoulder, Merlin saw Arthur grab the guard's arm, stopping the angry man from rushing at the hugging brothers.

"Merlin," Arthur said, exasperated as he glared at William's back. "There had better be a good explanation for this. Do you know this man?" Not waiting for an answer he turned to Gaius and asked, "Do you know this man?"

"Not personally," Gaius said calmly, "but I surmise this is Merlin's brother, William."

Arthur was surprised, "You have a brother?"

It was Will who answered as he pulled away from his hug with Merlin. "Of course he does," he snapped.

"Will," Merlin warned lowly, "this is Prince Arthur."

"I don't care who--"

"Will! You must show respect."

"Oh, yes," Arthur said, rolling his eyes. "You warn him but have no idea how to do it yourself."

Merlin and Will grinned cheekily at each other. Arthur's finger pointed between the two of them and he added, "I see the family resemblance." To the guard Arthur told, "You can go back to your post."

The guard cast William a murderous glance and hobbled out of the room.

Merlin whispered to Will, "What did you do?"

Will grinned mischievously. "Kicked him in the shin."

Merlin tried not to laugh but couldn't help it. Looking at Will he said, "It's good to see you."

Arthur put in, "Just what are you doing here?" Looking over at the prince, Merlin could see his eyes were narrowed suspiciously. "How'd you know Merlin was even in Camelot?"

Merlin gulped; he hadn't thought about that. Merlin had a very good idea how and he wasn't at all surprised. But he didn't know how to explain his mother's dreams without the prince ordering all of them to be executed.

It was Gaius who spoke up. "I'm assuming it was I."

Arthur looked at him surprised. "You?"

"When you left to find Balinor I sent a messenger to rush a letter to the rest of his family," Gaius explained. It came out so smoothly that Merlin wasn't sure if it was the truth or a lie. "I knew they were separated. I hadn't even realised Merlin was with his father. But if Balinor had returned unknown to his family, I wanted to ask him to come to Camelot in case your search was unfruitful."

"I see," Arthur said, apparently accepting the explanation. "That was good thinking, Gaius."

"I didn't think of it until after you'd already left for your journey," Gaius said, bowing his head slightly. "I'm sorry you didn't know. Your father is aware--"

"I believe you, Gaius," Arthur said, putting up his hands. "Thank you for verifying William's story."

"Yeah," Will put in, sneering. "I came here to look for my family." He looked at Merlin. "Where's Father?"

Merlin knew by the look in Will's eyes and the slight muscle tremor in his cheek that William knew what happened to their father.

"Oh, dear," Gaius said softly. "Sire, perhaps we should give the brothers some privacy?"

"Of course," Arthur said immediately. His suspicious glances had turned into something more sympathetic. "We'll -- Gaius, I did come here to talk with you," Arthur said. "Will you walk with me?"

"Yes, of course."

They made for the door and at the last moment, Arthur glanced over at Merlin and gave him a supportive smile. The door closed with a click behind him.

"Will," Merlin rushed out. "Father--"

"I know, Merlin," William said sadly. "I know."

"Mother?"

William nodded his head. "Yes. She knows. She saw."

Merlin had tried to hold it back, to keep it locked away in his chest, but couldn't any longer. Not with William. Choked, he said, "I so sorry. I didn't mean--"

William shook his head, "It isn't your fault, Merlin."

Merlin took in a deep breath and tried to steady himself. He wondered, "Did a letter ever show up?"

Will nodded. "The very day that Father died. Or the day Mother saw it, anyway. I wanted to come find you."

"Good," Merlin said. "I'm -- I'm really glad you're here."

"Well, I'm taking you home."

Merlin said sadly, "I can't go."

"Why not?"

"By the Code of the Dragonlords, I'm bound to Camelot now," Merlin said, sighing. He threw up his hands, frustrated. "There's not even a dragon here!"

Will's eyes went wide and he swallowed. "Merlin. It's coming."

"What's coming?" Merlin asked, confused.

"The dragon," Will said, voice dropped to an intense whisper. "I saw it on the way here. It was at the Ridge of Asceteir."

"Are you certain?" Merlin asked, dumbstruck at the thought of his brother seeing a dragon before him.

Will nodded. "It told me -- Merlin, I think it'll be coming for you."

"I have to tell Arthur," Merlin said, rushing to the door.

Will tried to grab at his arm, "Merlin, wait--"

"No," Merlin said, pulling his arm away. "Arthur needs to know."

Will nodded. "Go."

Merlin bolted out the door, past the guard. "Hey, you!" the guard called out.

Merlin didn't stop and called over his shoulder, "Come on!" If the guard didn't follow him, kicked shin or not, it wasn't Merlin's fault. He wasn't trying to run away, he was trying to run to Arthur.

Merlin caught up to Arthur and Gaius walking down one of the corridors, heads bent together in discussion.

"Arthur!" Merlin called out, running up to him. The two men looked back at him.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked, frowning. "What's wrong?"

Merlin gasped as he stopped in front of them, doubling over from being out of wind.

Gaius put a hand on his back. "Merlin, are you quite all right?"

"Dragon," Merlin gasped. He looked up at Arthur from under the fringe of his hair. "William. On his way here, he said he saw a dragon. It's coming for me."

Arthur's face turned extremely serious. "Merlin," he said, grabbing the back of his tunic and helping him stand straight. "Are you sure about this?"

Merlin nodded. "He said. I trust him completely."

"I'll tell the king," Arthur said. "We must be ready--"

Arthur was cut off by a terrible roar from outside the castle. They could hear screaming from the court yard below. Suddenly, two windows at the end of the corridor blew in, glass shattering. A servant walking near the end shrieked as flame shot in through the windows, engulfing part of the hall in fire for a brief moment until it disappeared.

"Down!" Arthur yelled. His arm went around to shield Gaius's head and he helped to pull the older man to the ground.

Merlin saw a servant frozen in spot as he gaped out the window. "Get down!" Merlin yelled, rushing towards him.

Arthur yelled, "Merlin!"

Merlin reached the man in time, pushing him down to the floor. But before he could duck himself, more glass shattered and Merlin was thrown back against the stone wall. He could feel his magic reacting, covering his front in a protective shield and the fire didn't hit his skin; however, his head hit the wall hard and he slid to the ground underneath the flame. It was gone within moments.

When the attack on the castle appeared over, Merlin could hear Arthur's voice calling his name and suddenly large hands were grabbing the front of his tunic. "Merlin, up," Arthur was saying. "The dragon."

"Sire, I think he's hurt," Gaius said.

"'M'fine," Merlin slurred. He struggled to get up, with Arthur's help. Arthur got him to the window and their eyes search the sky for the dragon.

"There!" Arthur pointed. The dragon looked to be retreating and wasn't flying over the town anymore but over the forests beyond. Arthur said, "Well. Do whatever it is you need to do!"

Merlin shook his head. "Can't," he said. "Too far away."

"What? What good are you if--Merlin!"

Merlin began to slide to the ground, unable to hold himself up any more. He felt Arthur's arms catch him from behind and lower him carefully. Arthur's intense blue eyes were the last thing Merlin saw before everything turned black.

**

Merlin's eyes opened slowly and he blinked against the light, trying to see through the blurriness. At first he wasn't sure where he was but looking around he recognised the shelves full of books and vials. He was in Gaius' chambers, not in his own bed but on the cot in the main chambers.

"There he is," Will said. He was standing next to Merlin's cot with a concerned look.

"Hi," Merlin said, struggling to sit up. Will's hand grabbed his shoulder gently and pushed him back.

"Careful there," Will said, frowning. "Don't push it."

Merlin slumped back against the pillow and sighed. His head was pounding. "What happened?"

"Dragon attacked."

"Dragon!" Merlin struggled to sit up again though Will did his best to stop him.

"Easy!" Will exclaimed. "They'll need you. Don't do anything stupid."

"Where's Arthur?" Merlin asked.

Gaius answered, approaching Merlin's bedside with a vial in his hand. "I suspect he's preparing his knights for battle. Here, drink this."

"I have to go," Merlin said urgently.

"Yes, you do," Gaius agreed. He held out the vial more insistently. "After you drink this."

Merlin grumbled but took it and downed the potion in one quick shot. Merlin shuddered as the bitter liquid slid down his throat. "God, that's awful," he spat, nearly gagging.

"So is that bump on your head," Gaius said. "I'm sure you have quite the headache."

"I suppose," Merlin agreed reluctantly. He didn't want to be delayed by something as unimportant as a headache.

"Then that will help so don't complain," Gaius said briskly.

"How long have I been out?" Merlin asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, placing them on the cold stone floor.

"A while," Will said. "Arthur brought you back here and then hurried away."

Merlin nodded and looked at Gaius. "Are you alright?"

Gaius waved him off. "I wasn't injured, I'm fine. You shouldn't have run off the way you did."

"Is the servant all right?"

Gaius nodded. "Yes, you knocked him over and he missed most of the blast. Can't say the same for you, though. It's a wonder you weren't hurt more severely."

Merlin looked at his brother and he could tell by Will's face he suspected what had helped Merlin with that. Will sighed and asked, "Please tell me no one saw."

Merlin shrugged. "Don't think so. It all happened so fast."

Gaius looked between the two of them and then nodded. "Right. Well, Merlin, I daresay people are awaiting your presence."

Merlin stood up, finding his legs shaky but only slightly. He quickly found sure footing. His headache had already dulled and he was glad to know such a fine physician. "Where do I need to go?"

Will asked, more to Gaius, "Are they going to go out and fight that thing? Tonight?"

Gaius nodded and looked at Merlin. "I've just returned from a council. Arthur is going to face the beast tonight, on his own terms. After a very rousing speech, he has the support of his knights. I'm certain they could use a Dragonlord."

"Hopefully they have one," Merlin said. "I didn't feel anything when I saw it."

"You didn't exactly face it, did you?" Gaius countered. "It was flying away."

"I know. I want to join Arthur," he added.

"Good, because the king has commands it. I was sent here to fetch you."

"Take me to them," Merlin said, confidently.

"Merlin," Will said dubiously. "You can't go like that." He gestured to Merlin's clothing; his simple trousers, tunic, and ever-present neckerchief. "Don't you have Father's chain mail?"

"Oh. Right!" Merlin said, rushing up into his room. Over his shoulder, he called out, "Of course I do."
He returned a moment later, his father's hauberk in hand. Balinor had kept it all these years, tucked away as best he could, as if it were a piece of his old life he couldn't quite let go off. Naturally, he'd brought it along when he told Arthur he'd come to Camelot to fight.

Balinor had intended to wear it when he faced the dragon and Merlin felt it only right that he did in his father's stead.

Merlin slipped on the arming coat, the padded material to keep the chain mail from chafing his skin. Putting on the mail, the heavy metal weighed down against Merlin's body. It seemed to hang a little bit loosely around his waist but all in all it fit well enough. The coif settled around his neck in a way that reminded him of his neckerchief and Merlin found it comforting.

"Is that it?" Gaius asked, looking at him. "Just the mail?"

Merlin shrugged. "It was all my father had. It's all I have."

Gaius held up a finger. "One moment." Gaius went to dig around in a wooden chest. He took out a short sleeved but thick leather vest to go over the hauberk as well as two vambraces, one for each wrist, also made from the same.

"You can have these," Gaius said, handing them to Merlin.

"Oh, Gaius," Merlin said, taking one of the vambraces. He ran his fingers over the leather and looked at Gaius questioningly. "Are you sure? They seem so valuable."

Gaius waved his hand dismissively. "It's time for them to be used again. It's been much too long."

"Thank you. I -- thank you," Merlin said. Will helped him put them on. Lastly, his belt went around his waist and his sword was sheathed.

When he was all dressed, Merlin stood before them, hands fidgeting unsurely. "How do I look?"

"With a bit of confidence, you'd look like a Dragonlord," Gaius said. "Don't be nervous, Merlin."

Will stepped forward, pulling Merlin into a manly hug with three claps to the back. Into Merlin's ear, Will whispered, "He'd be really proud right now."

Merlin blinked back the threatening tears, and said, "Thanks."

Pulling away, Will playfully tugged on Merlin's hair. "Well, I'd go with you if I could," Will said. "But this is your destiny, Merlin. It's what you're meant to do."

"Yes," Merlin said, nodding. He took in a deep breath and with it he could feel confidence fill him. More firmly, he repeated, "Yes. I can do this."

"That you can," Will said, a big smile on his face. "You will do this."

Gaius gave an encouraging smile. "Time to go, Merlin."

**

When Merlin entered the small chamber, he saw it was already crowded with knights, the prince, and the king and his advisors. They were all hunched over a large map that was sprawled across a table top; there were little figurines dotting it, ones in red. There was a large model of a dragon as well.

"Sire," Gaius announced. Merlin was standing behind him.

The king looked up. Arthur did too, and he nearly did a double take as he looked past Gaius and saw Merlin.

"Well, what have we here?" Arthur drawled. "Someone looks ready for battle."

Uther looked at Merlin, less impressed than his son. But he nodded. "It looks like we have a Dragonlord in our midst."

"Let's hope so," Arthur said. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Merlin answered, confidently. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "Never better."

"Good," Arthur said shortly. "We will be leaving soon."

Merlin nodded in response. Uther and Arthur fell back into their discussion, the knights listening attentively. Merlin stood off to the side and felt a little out of place but he listened to Arthur's plans, his eyes travelling over the map as Arthur explained his planned strategy.

After the meeting, all were dismissed to prepare to ride out to meet the dragon. Merlin wasn't exactly sure what to do with himself but Arthur gestured to him. "Come on, Merlin." Merlin followed him.

They were alone, save for Arthur's servant, the young boy named Morris. Morris must've been fetched from the town he'd been left in when Arthur was on his journey to find Balinor. The boy hobbled a bit, but seemed mended, and he was efficient as he helped put on Arthur's armour.

Merlin's hip leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, as he watched the process before him.

Arthur was looking at him, head to toe. "Is that all you have for armour?"

One of Merlin's hands rested on the leather, protectively. "Yes," he said, defensively. He was proud of what he had.

Arthur didn't seem to notice. "Have you ever trained before? In fighting?"

Merlin shook his head. "Not really. Just sparring with my father and Will."

"And never in full armour?"

"No."

Arthur nodded. "Then that's a good choice. You'll be able to move better."

"Oh." Merlin hadn't thought of it that way.

Finished, Morris handed Arthur a magnificent sword. Arthur took it and swiped it through the air a couple times. He sheathed it and dismissed Morris with a quick word.

To Merlin, Arthur said, "Let's see your sword." He nodded at the sword hanging from Merlin's waist. Merlin unsheathed it and handed it carefully to Arthur.

"It's old," Arthur said, holding the blade up in front of him as he examined.

"But well cared for," Merlin said.

"That's true," Arthur said. He dropped it to his side and looked at Merlin. "But you'll need something better for today." Arthur went to the rack that held a number of swords. He picked up a couple but ended up replacing them. Finally, he handed Merlin a brilliant sword, the silver shining in the light.

"I can't take that," Merlin said, looking at it in awe as Arthur held it out to him. "It's too much."

"You will take it because I'm giving it to you," Arthur said. "You'll need all the help you can get."

Merlin blinked at the sword and took it from Arthur hesitantly. "Thank you," Merlin said sincerely. "It's wonderful."

"It's only for tonight," Arthur added.

"That's more than I ever expected." Merlin looked at him. "I suppose it's time to go, is it?"

"Yes," Arthur said. But he didn't move as he looked at Merlin.

Merlin couldn't read his expression. "What?"

"Merlin, I -- on behalf of Camelot," Arthur said, becoming formal. "I should thank you."

Merlin tilted his head, wondering. "For what? I haven't done anything yet."

"You're joining a fight that isn't yours."

"Yes, it is," Merlin said. "It's my responsibility."

"Camelot isn't your home."

"But it is now," Merlin explained. "I was to defend it. I'm happy to." He added, "If I even can."

"That's the thing, isn't it?" Arthur said. "You're willing to ride to a possible death against a powerful beast not even knowing if you can fight it."

Merlin held up his borrowed sword. "I'll fight, either way."

Arthur shook his head. "You're a mystery, Merlin."

Merlin grinned. "How so?"

"You're rude, insolent, have no manners whatsoever," Arthur rattled off.

"Oi!"

"And yet you act most honourably," Arthur added, almost looking confused.

"I do?" Merlin asked, unable to contain his surprise.

"You're following up on your father's responsibilities and you don't have to. You'd defend Camelot when you don't have to."

"But I do, Arthur. I've explained before," Merlin said. "And if you find me honourable, it's because you lead by example." Merlin bowed his head. "I'm proud to fight for you, my lord."

Arthur clapped his shoulder. "Good," he said. "Now, let us go face our--"

"--Destiny?" Merlin put in.

Arthur smiled. "Well, our day, as it is."

Merlin smiled back, trying to cover up the nervousness that was beginning to settle in his stomach. "Fair enough, my lord."

**

Arthur and Merlin led the knights out to a clearing in the forest beyond the castle. Their strategy was based on previous attacks from the dragon, who seemed to like to tease during the day with a stealthy swoop on the city but would aggressively attack under the cover of night. They were expecting him to keep to his ways.

In the clearing, Merlin stood at Arthur side, his sword drawn. The knights were behind them, positioned in an outfacing circling to watch for the beast in all directions.

Merlin marvelled at how calm Prince Arthur and his knights seemed. They were tense and on guard, yes, but focused and determined. Lacking their training, Merlin felt restless and was constantly fidgeting.

"There!" Arthur finally hissed, pointing up to the knight sky. The dragon was moving quickly, large wings beating through the air. "Steady!" Arthur commanded, even as the dragon dove down directly for them.

The attack came quickly and the dragon had broken the knights ranks. Swooping down on them, a stream of hot flame from its mouth, it had sent the knights scattering. The dragon bore down, roaring loudly, sharp claws swiping through the air and tail whipping to and fro.

Merlin tried to find his Dragonlord's voice, tried to reach out to stop the dragon. But in the heat of the fight he couldn't focus, instead ducking down and rolling across the ground as the dragon made another pass at them. He was too focused on trying to survive rather than being able to fight the dragon with powers he couldn't even touch.

He felt entirely useless.

Quickly getting to his feet, he regrouped with Arthur. The other knights were sprawled across the ground, some thrown into the surrounding bushes. Merlin could smell blood and burnt skin on the air and it nauseated him.

Merlin and Arthur were left standing, backs to each other as they waited for the dragon to make another pass. It came at Arthur's side, diving down at an alarming rate, roar filling the night air.

Merlin turned to face it, standing a few feet behind Arthur. Arthur was crouched, tense, and waited for the dragon to come closer. Merlin stood firm in his spot, refusing to leave Arthur. At the last second, when the dragon was almost upon them, Arthur let out a cry and his sliced his sword through the air.

The dragon roared as the blade cut through some scales on its underside. But its front claws swiped out in attack.

One of them caught Merlin's chain mail, right at the abdomen, and its nail dragged up over Merlin's body as the dragon kept flying. Merlin cried out in pain as it broke into his skin. Merlin was lifted up off the ground with the force of it and he flew backwards a few feet before falling hard to the ground.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried, coming to his side.

Merlin was breathing hard, grinding his teeth as he fought against the pain. "Just a scratch," he gritted out. Which was true, he knew; he didn't think it was deep enough to be fatal but it hurt more than anything he'd ever felt before.

Looking down at his body, he saw there was a huge gash in his chain mail and underneath the arming coat and his tunic had been ripped. There was an ugly red wound that ran up from his bellybutton over his chest and finished off at his shoulder. It looked vaguely familiar. He gasped out, "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Arthur said, trying to help him up. "We've got to retreat. Quick, to the woods."

"That he can set on fire," Merlin muttered, struggling to stand. "Brilliant idea."

Arthur snapped, "Do you have a better one?" He pulled Merlin to his feet.

"Move! Now!"

"Yes, that's the idea--"

"Dragon!" Merlin yelled, pointing. He hissed at the pain and cradled his arm over his wound, but the dragon was making another swoop for them.

It dove quickly and they tried to run towards the forest that edged the clearing, but at the last moment Arthur pulled them down to avoid being injured by claws again. The dragon's tail hit Arthur in the back, sending him flying. He spun through the air, hitting a tree trunk hard and he slid to the ground.

Merlin looked up from where he was sprawled on the grass. "Arthur!" he yelled. But Arthur's eyes were closed and he didn't move.

Merlin rolled onto his back and looked up to the night sky. He saw the dragon gliding down, no longer aggressive. Merlin watched as it landed neatly in the clearing, a slightly grumble of the earth under its heavy feet.

The dragon didn't make any other moves, only watched as Merlin struggled to stand. Merlin's mail and clothes hung over his front in ruins and blood seeped from his scratch. But he faced the dragon head on and walked towards it with laboured steps.

The Great Dragon watched him approach.

Inside his mind, Merlin could hear his father's voice. Reach inside yourself. Reach for your true voice.

The dragon was the first to speak. "I have been waiting for you, young Dragonlord."

"You knew I was coming, Kilgarrah?"

"I have been waiting for your father," the Dragon corrected, "but reading into your soul, I know now it was you. It is you, it has always been you. You are Emrys."

Merlin tried to keep a straight face and not to show how the dragon's words affected him but Merlin frowned. "You're mistaken; I'm not Emrys."

"You are Merlin, but you are Emrys. It is your true name."

Merlin. You can do this. You have the voice. You have the power.

Kilgharrah continued, "It will be you."

"It'll be me who what? Takes your life?" Merlin said. "Because it's what I must do."

The Great Dragon chuckled -- it chuckled at Merlin. "My death will not be by your hand, Dragonlord."

"Arthur's, then," Merlin retorted. "Brilliant."

Kilgharrah shook his head. "Not by Arthur either. But you and Arthur -- you and Arthur are two sides of the same coin. Your destiny is connected. Together, you will unite the land of Albion. There will be peace."

"I -- stop trying to distract me!" Merlin said, annoyed. "I don't know what you speak of. My only destiny is to fight you!"

"If you believe that then Camelot will surely fall." The dragon's wings unfurled and they started to flap, wind beating down into the ground. "My task is complete. You are in Camelot but only you can accept your destiny."

The dragon started to lift off the ground but Merlin knew that he couldn't let it get away.

You can do this, son. My power is now yours.

Merlin felt it rise through him, the gift of his father. It reverberated out of him, thrumming through his entire body.

Throwing his head back, he yelled out, "Drago!"

The dragon looked at him, his head bowed submissively under Merlin's power. Merlin commanded, "Stay."

The dragon immediately landed on the ground again, eyeing Merlin. Despite the power of the Dragonlord that filled him, the physical pain that Merlin was under was starting to take over. He tried to raise his sword but he gasped and it fell from his hand.

"Dragonlord," Kigharrah said, his voice deep and rumbling. "Show me mercy. Follow in your father's footsteps."

Merlin's head snapped up. "What do you know of my father?"

"I read into his soul, the day Uther's men chained me in the courtyard. The day they hauled him away to the dungeons, screaming and pleading for peace." The dragon's voice was subdued and he didn't sound like he was pleading; he sounded honest. "He wanted me free. Will you kill me now?"

Merlin swallowed the lump in his throat. He passed on his father's words. "He was sorry for what happened to you."

Kilgharrah bowed his head but it was a gesture of free will that Merlin had no control over. "I have always known that."

"But my orders are different," Merlin said. "I will do what I must for Camelot."

"I am the last of my kind, young Dragonlord. Much like yourself." The dragon's head tilted to the side. "Will you show me no mercy?"

Merlin's heart tore between his responsibilities; those of being a Dragonlord and protecting the dragons, and those for his new king and prince, both who expected retribution for the damaged caused to Camelot and its subjects. He didn't know what to do anymore and his father's voice was no longer speaking to him. It would have to be his own decision.

Merlin fell to his knees, emotional and physical pain weakening him. He was having difficulty breathing and he tried to gasp in air. From his left, he heard his name being called, "Merlin!"

Looking over, he saw Arthur scrambling to his feet. Arthur picked up a fallen sword, his eyes trained on the Dragon as he rushed to Merlin.

"Merlin!" Arthur said, rushing to his side. "Are you -- what this -- why isn't it dead!"

"I'm hurt, Arthur," Merlin said. A bead of sweat from his forehead slid down and dripped off the end of his nose. "I can't--"

"Your powers?"

Merlin grunted. "Is it attacking? I have them. But I can't--" He gasped as pain thrilled through him and the dragon twitched, rearing back slightly as Merlin's hold became weaker. "I can't hold on much longer."

Arthur looked up at the dragon, face resolved. "Then I'll kill it."

Arthur hefted his sword over his shoulder, changing his grip as if he were about to throw a spear. He rushed forward with big strides, his arms pulling back and then with a loud yell he pitched the sword forward, throwing it up in the air. The dragon was still under Merlin's command and it did not move; though it reared back as the sword hit it. Miraculously, the sword penetrated between scales and embedded in the dragon's shoulder.

Merlin saw it was barely enough to harm the beast, though it did seem rather annoyed. Kilgharrah roared loudly, claw swiping at the sword, knocking it to the ground. In the same swipe, the large claw with sharp nails swung down towards Arthur. Arthur ducked out of the way but it was close, too close.

"Drago!" Merlin yelled, voice lined thick with the Dragonlord power. "Stop!"

Arthur had been scrambling to his feet and the dragon's claw had been coming back down; Arthur glanced over his shoulder in time to see sharp nails stop inches away from clawing into his back.

"You will not hurt Arthur," the young Dragonlord commanded. "You will never hurt Arthur. You will never hurt anyone in anyone in Camelot again!"

Merlin could feel the power flowing out of him, travelling through the air toward the dragon. He couldn't see it, but it was like the magic in him – he could feel it. Like a spider's web, cocooning its prey caught in its trap, Merlin's command wrapped around the dragon. Merlin could feel it sink in, take hold and anchor down, and cement itself forever.

Kilgharrah's front legs dropped down to the ground to each side of Arthur, carefully not to touch the prince, though its neck and head still towered over him. The dragon took a couple steps back until he was able to bow his head respectfully.

Behind Arthur, Merlin had a cry of pain escape him before he could hold it back. Arthur turned his head back a fraction to look at Merlin though he still kept the dragon in his sights. When he saw the dragon wasn't moving, he stepped back until he was at Merlin's side, both of them still facing the dragon.

"Merlin, get up," Arthur said, couching down next to Merlin. He kept the docile dragon in view.

Merlin tried to struggle to his feet but he ended up falling forward onto his hands and knees. Little splatters of blood dripped from his wound, where it was especially deep at his shoulder.

"He won't hurt you," Merlin said up to Arthur. "He'll never hurt you. Even if I --"

"Oh, shut up, Merlin," Arthur cut him off. "Nothing's going to happen to you, you girl, you've just got a damn scratch. Now get up."

Merlin tried to chuckle under his breath but it came out in laboured wheezes. "If this is your attempt at a rousing spiel--"

Arthur insisted, hissing, "We have to kill it."

Merlin looked at the dragon. "I don't kill things, Arthur."

"That's what I'm here for," Arthur said. "Heart's on its right?"

"Yes."

Arthur muttered, "That's a pretty big right."

Merlin sat on his haunches, the pain that suddenly seared through him obliterated any other thoughts or feelings that he had.

The dragon's wings rustled, unfurled to the side. They started to beat slowly.

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed. "The dragon!"

Merlin couldn't pay attention to Arthur or the dragon. His hands gripped his torn tunic together, chain mail still hanging open. He pressed the material into his wound, as if that would somehow stop the pain.

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed again. The dragon had lifted up off the ground. It didn't make a move towards them, not at all, but was raising straight up into the air. "Get that thing down here!"

"Can't," Merlin said. He felt like he couldn't breathe, his lungs hurt so much. He tried to reach out with his Dragonlord power, but it was weak now, like him. He could feel his command that made the dragon stay starting to slip away, and with each bit that it did, the dragon rose higher into the air.

It was like an invisible leash that hung between them, growing and growing, getting longer and thinner.

The dragon spoke, oddly calm, "Today will not be forgotten, young Dragonlord."

Kilgharrah let out one final roar. It was as if Merlin's wound was linked to it and with the roar, it felt as if fire was travelling the length of the scratch over his body. Merlin sobbed as intense pain spread through him.

The leash broke.

Kilgharrah rose up above them, his beating wings stirring up the loose dirt of the ground, clouds of it swirling around Merlin and Arthur. "No!" Arthur yelled out, watching helplessly as the dragon flew north, away from Camelot.

Arthur yelled more at the empty sky though it died out when he saw it was to no avail.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said, his breath short. "I tried -- I couldn't hang on." He coughed, body curling in as he tried to take in air. "It was too much."

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur said, pulling him up. He brought one of Merlin's arms around his shoulders and one of his arms supported Merlin around the waist. "We have to get you to Gaius."

"The others …"

"Quicker we get to Camelot, the quicker we can send someone back," Arthur said gruffly. "I can't take you all."

"I'm sorry," Merlin said again, leaning heavily on Arthur. "I didn't help."

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur answered, practically dragging him along. "You saved my life. All the people of Camelot's lives. I'd say that's helpful."

"Do you really believe that?" Merlin asked, slurring.

He didn't hear the answer as he slumped against Arthur's shoulder.

**

When Merlin woke, he couldn't remember how he'd gotten to Gaius' chambers. But as his eyes opened and he looked around, feeling a bit groggy at first, he could see that was where he was. It was becoming too familiar, Merlin thought foggily, ending up as a patient in the chambers rather than being the one who helping others. He much preferred it as the latter.

Merlin croaked, "Will?"

"Right here, Merlin," Will said, immediately standing up from the bench where he'd been sitting, watching with a careful eye.

The more awake that Merlin became, the better he felt. He was able to sit up and he swung his legs over the side of the cot. "What happened?" he asked.

"You had us worried," Will answered.

Merlin immediately asked, "How's Arthur?"

Will scoffed, "Bit of a prat, isn't he? In here, waving his arms about and demanding things. Forgot about throwing me in the stocks, though." Merlin looked at him questioningly. Will amended, "For kicking the guard, earlier?"

"Right," Merlin said. "He likes to threaten that." It seemed like a lifetime in the past, before the dragon came. "But Arthur's alright?"

"Yeah, he's fine," said Will, grudgingly. "Most of the knights, too. Only lost three."

Merlin frowned. "Only?"

Will shrugged. "Well, against a dragon, I'd say that's good odds, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't know," Merlin said. He stood up and stretched, rotating his shoulders. Rolling his neck side to side, he couldn't help but beam, "I feel great."

"Well, you're a sight better then you were yesterday," Will mentioned. "I can't believe how fast you healed."

Merlin looked down at his chest. "What's this?" he asked, surprised.

The wound he received from the dragon, the one that had caused him such intense pain, looked knit together, not open and bleeding any more. There was a long thin shining scar down his body, starting at his shoulder and running over his chest, ending right above his bellybutton.

Merlin frowned. "It looks like his."

"What looks like who's what?"

"My scar," Merlin said quietly, fingers lightly rubbing over his abdomen. He closed his eyes and pictured Arthur, lying shirtless in the cave while Merlin's father dressed his wound. "It's almost exactly like the one Arthur has. Just on the other side."

"Huh," Will said, unimpressed. "That's … kind of odd."

"It's all kind of odd," Merlin agreed. As far as he was concerned, everything in his life since arriving in Camelot -- no, since meeting Arthur -- had been so unusual to all that he knew, throwing his life right upside down.

Merlin asked, "Who healed me?" He knew the quick work of the healing would have had to be done by magic; Arthur's wound remained open for days before Balinor had treated him. Merlin knew he hadn't been out for days; at least, he didn't think he had been.

"Well. You did."

Merlin's eyes flew open. Astonished, he said, "What?" That didn't make much sense, and he certainly didn't remember.

Will's voice dropped as he nodded his head towards the door. "They have two guards posted out there now," he warned. Quietly, he told the story. "You told Gaius how to prepare some thick past? And then you performed, well. You know," Will stressed. "It was -- it was pretty impressive, actually."

"I did? It was?" Merlin frowned, trying to recall. The last memory he had was the dragon flying away. "I don't remember any of that."

Will nodded. "You were all sweaty and dirty and I think a bit delusional, actually," Will mused. Will grinned slightly but it quickly dropped from his face. "You probably could've done it earlier but Arthur wouldn't leave until he knew you'd be okay."

"Really?' Merlin asked, surprised.

Will nodded. "I suppose he's all right, really," he added, though he didn't sound that happy with it. Continuing, he said, "But once he was gone Gaius woke you up and you did your--" Will's voice dropped even more, "--spell. Your hand was over the wound and you made the paste glow."

Merlin nodded. He remembered Balinor doing that for Arthur; he just didn't remember doing it for himself.

Will shrugged. "And then you fell asleep. You've been out since yesterday."

That was something Merlin believed; it sounded so similar to when he and his father had helped heal the prince.

Merlin asked, "Where's Gaius?"

"I think he's with the king," Will said. He scowled. "Deciding your fate. I think your injury prevented you from ending up in the dungeons, to be honest."

"What?" Merlin frowned. "Arthur wouldn't--"

"No, not your beloved prince," Will said, with a roll of his eyes. "But the king might. I don't think he's very happy that there's an escaped dragon still on the loose."

Merlin grimaced. "Right. That."

Will's voice dropped again. "I've our things packed," Will said. "If you're healed proper, I think we'll be able to get by the guards. We should go now."

"Will," Merlin said, seriously. "I can't go."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because ..." Merlin paused, thinking, while Will looked at him expectantly. "It's my des--"

"Oh, don't say it," Will snapped.

"Right, Will," Merlin said dryly. "You were all for supporting my destiny yesterday."

"Well, it's over now," Will insisted. "You can make your own choices too, you know."

"Even if that's true, I still choose to stay in Camelot," Merlin said.

"Why?" Will asked, throwing his hand up in the air. "So you can be thrown in a dungeon? Executed, even?"

"We don't know that," Merlin pointed out.

"Seems bloody likely."

"Well, I'll just have to see." Merlin tried to put on a brave face. He knew what Will was saying was true, that staying in Camelot may be his end. But he also had faith in Arthur; if Arthur relayed their story to the king truthfully, perhaps he presented Merlin's side fairly. Yes, Merlin was responsible for the dragon getting away but he had good reason for it; he really didn't know what he was doing with his Dragonlord powers. And he had tried to do what he could to protect Camelot, he really had.

Or perhaps Arthur didn't think Merlin did all he could've. It was a chance Merlin was willing to take.

He added, resolutely. "I will not flee my responsibility."

Will sighed. "I know," he admitted. "Mother said you'd say that."

"She did?" Merlin asked, surprised.

"She didn't say anything else, though," Will mentioned. "She doesn't know. She just -- tried to warn me you wouldn't be coming home to Ealdor."

Merlin added gently, "I may someday."

"Maybe. Maybe not." Will said, resigned. But he clapped a hand on Merlin's good shoulder, strong, and squeezed. He said, softly, "It bears repeating, Merlin: he'd be proud of you, you know."

"Will … "

"I'm proud of you, brother," Will grinned, cheeky. "Or should I say, Dragonlord."

Merlin didn't even feel like falling apart at the mention of their father, and he beamed at Will. "Brother will do."

**

It wasn't much later that Gaius had come back. All he would say was that Uther wished to see Merlin when he was ready, but Gaius stressed that would be better sooner than later. It was best not to keep him waiting too long. However, Gaius didn't know what Uther was thinking in regards to Merlin.

"If he's made his decision, it isn't something he's confided in me," Gaius said dryly. But Gaius wasn't trying to help Merlin escape, as he once had for Balinor, and it gave Merlin a little confidence. A very little, but it was some nonetheless.

Merlin ate and washed up from the basin, water fetched by Will as Merlin wasn't permitted to go anywhere but the hall to audience with King Uther. Merlin did not have many clothes, one of his two tunics had been shredded by a dragon's claw but at least his other one was clean. He situated his neckerchief to cover up his scar, even though Will said a battle wound made him look fiercer.

"Presentable?" Merlin asked.

"You'll do," Will said, giving him a shove. Merlin shoved him back.

Gaius and Will joined him on the walk to the king (no amount of convincing would make Will stay behind.) They were followed closely by the two guards and although Will looked like he wanted to kick them right in the shins, thankfully he didn't.

Upon entering the hall, Merlin approached the throne alone, Gaius pulling Will off to the side with him.

Uther sat in his throne, Prince Arthur to his right and the Lady Morgana to the left.

Merlin paused in front of the king's throne, bowing deep and sweeping the ground. When he rose, he bowed his head to King Uther. "Your highness." A bow to Arthur, "Sire." And finally, "Lady Morgana."

"Dragonlord," Uther said. Merlin's breath caught in his throat; the king did not appear very happy. "There are some in this room who are under the impression that you have saved Camelot."

Lady Morgana said, "He has--"

"I, however," Uther said smoothly, cutting her off with a glare. "Do not share that opinion."

Merlin said, "I'm sorry if I have disappointed you, Your Highness."

"You have," Uther said. "The dragon is not dead."

"No," Merlin agreed. "He got away."

"By no fault of Merlin's," Arthur put in. "I take equal responsibility for that."

King Uther glanced at him, "Arthur."

"And he saved my life," Arthur put in.

There were murmurs that spread rustled through the attendants in the room and Uther did not look impressed with Arthur's public input. He put up a hand, meant to stop Arthur's interruption but also to silence the quiet chatter. He said, to Merlin, "My son has explained and defended your actions. You are not to be held fully accountable for the dragon's escape."

Relief rushed through Merlin and he spared a quick glance at Arthur. He wished he could express more gratitude but he knew it was not the time. Arthur did have a smile tug at the corner of one lip but it was gone within an instant.

"From what Arthur has said, and in discussion with Gaius, it seems as though you have fixed an Etch on the dragon. Is that true?"

"I -- I think so."

The King said dryly, "That does not inspire much confidence."

Arthur looked like he was going to roll his eyes. Merlin thought about what his father had taught him; it made Merlin stand up straighter. "Yes," he said assuredly. "Yes, I fixed an Etch."

"That the dragon is to never hurt my son."

Merlin added, "Or harm any person in Camelot."

"That leaves us a dilemma, now doesn't it?" Uther said dryly.

"Sire?" Merlin blinked, confused. He didn't understand how that could be something bad.

"When the word of this gets out -- and it will -- and the dragon attacks other kingdoms -- which it also will -- they are going to flee to Camelot. We will not be supporting refugees on masse like that," Uther explained. "The dragon will have to be dealt with, as it should have in the first place."

Merlin bowed his head. "Yes, my lord."

Arthur put in, "Finding the beast will be impossible. You cannot track what flies through the air."

"It will not be able to hide forever," Uther countered. "When we start to hear reports of it, the Dragonlord will be sent to finish his task." To Merlin he said, harshly, "Is that understood?"

"Absolutely, my lord." Merlin went to ask a question but then quickly shut his mouth, thinking it might be better not to provoke Uther's anger.

Uther noticed. "Did you have something to say?"

Not being able to hide his curiosity at the questioning of a king, Merlin asked, "What's to become of me until then?"

"Yes, I'm faced with this decision again." Uther's elbows were on each arm rest of the throne; he steepled his fingers together as he assessed Merlin. "It has been decided that we might not be in this situation if you had been more educated and better trained."

Merlin's face blushed, right up to the tip of his ears, under that declaration made before the court.

"You will remain under Gaius' tutelage. You will be an apprentice to him and he will also assist you with further required education."

Merlin bowed his head and couldn't help but smile; he was happy to stay with Gaius. "Thank you, my lord."

"Prince Arthur will be in charge of your physical training," King Uther added. Merlin looked up, shocked, and glanced atArthur. Arthur didn't seem at all surprised by this announcement. Uther continued, "Of course, Arthur is very busy with training his knights and other princely duties but he will be making time for you. This was a tradition in the past, to train Dragonlord's for battle. We will continue to do that with you. You and Gaius are to adhere to Arthur's schedule."

Merlin nodded confirmation, "Yes, my lord."

"For the time being, Prince Arthur will be overseeing you and you will follow his dictation for your training. He will be reporting to me and changes will be made as necessary."

Arthur muttered under his breath, "Father."

"Oh, yes," Uther said dryly. "You will not be required to have guards with you; however, you are forbidden to leave the city walls. You will remain here and you will be watched."

Merlin nodded his head. It wasn't perfect but he was glad that he would be able to be free of a constant watchful eye.

Uther glared down at Merlin, suspicious. "For your contributions in protecting Camelot, your life will be spared. But do not forget my clemency, Dragonlord."

"Thank you, my lord, for sparing me."

"I don't have any other choice right now," Uther said. It struck a chord of fear into Merlin; he couldn't help but wonder what Uther's plans for him were once the dragon was killed. But he tried not to focus on that part too much. Uther said, "It is settled. You may go."

Merlin bowed deeply in parting. But when he rose, he saw Lady Morgana was on her feet. She was beaming down at him. "Cheers to Merlin, the Dragonlord," she said, loud and clear. Merlin's face turned bright red and there was actual terror in his heart when he saw the thunderous look on King Uther's face. Lady Morgana continued, "Cheers to the saviour of Camelot."

The crowd broke out into a smattering of applause and mild cheers; no one was sure if it was the right thing to do or if it would further anger the king. Lady Morgana herself clapped loudly; behind her, Gwen beamed as she clapped the loudest. Arthur looked a bit put out but he clapped twice.

Over all of them, Merlin yelled out, "To Prince Arthur, the real saviour."

The cheers and claps grew in level tenfold. Arthur's face broke into a grateful smile as Merlin bowed to him and only him.

**

Merlin and William sat on the floor of the armoury, facing each other. Between them was Balinor's chain mail. Merlin had taken the time to clean it properly, make sure any bits of blood and dirt were removed.

It was still damaged from the fight against the dragon and Merlin wanted to have it repaired. The chain mail had served him well -- without it he'd probably be dead -- and it was a little piece of Balinor left behind.

William seemed to know and understand, encouraging Merlin to have it fixed.

The trouble was neither of them knew how to do it.

William sighed as he looked down at the glinting silver before them. "You'll have to ask Arthur." He seemed pained to suggest it. "He'll know what to do."

Merlin snorted. "He seems to have forgotten I exist."

"He's busy, is all."

They hadn't seen much of the prince in the past few days; he'd been very busy overseeing the restoration of Camelot under the dragon's attacks, still dealing with the first wave of it let alone the second one.

"William," Merlin asked, grinning cheekily. "Are you actually defending him?"

"Shut up, Merlin," Will said, rolling his eyes. "I've already said once that he's not a terribly bad sort but please don't make me repeat it. It hurts to do so."

Merlin laughed. "Fine, fine, we'll leave it at that."

"Although I do plan on having words with him," William said, smugly.

"Oh, don't you go getting yourself into trouble."

"I won't," Will reassured. "But I'm going to insist he look out for you."

"Oi! I know how to look out for myself, thank you very much!"

"That's always up for debate," William said, but there was a teasing sparkle in his eye. He shrugged and said a little more seriously, "You're going to be on your own, Merlin. I just want to make sure you'll be all right."

Will planned to go home to Ealdor the following morning, as neither of them wanted their mother left alone. Though, Will was still reluctant to leave Merlin behind.

"I'll be fine," Merlin reassured for at least the tenth time. "And you'll know where I'll be if you need me."

"I know," William said. He pushed himself up off the ground. "Come on, then. We'll tuck that away until you get the chance to fix it."

Merlin stood, picking up his father's chain mail carefully, and hoped he'd be able to get it fixed before he was called to use it again.

**

A few evenings later, there was a feast and celebration in regards to the dragon's banishment from Camelot. It was for Arthur and the brave knights who fought the dragon.

Merlin had been invited but Uther would not give him a place of honour. He praised his son and he praised the knights; if it hadn't been Arthur's afterthought to mention the Dragonlord, Merlin probably would've been forgotten altogether. In a room full of lords and nobles, no one really gave a care for a lowly peasant boy who had lived in a cave with powers that shouldn't even exist anymore.

Merlin had never felt more out of place in his entire life.

He was a Dragonlord and the only one.

And so, in the stifling loneliness of a room full of people, Merlin escaped outside. He stood on the balcony of the castle that overlooked the courtyard. He looked up at the stars and felt comforted; they, at least, had been a constant in his life.

"Merlin," he was greeted. Turning around, Merlin saw Arthur approaching him. He had removed his red cape with the Gold Dragon crest but he was still in a fine studded leather jacket and his crown rested upon his head.

"Hullo, Arthur," Merlin returned, smiling. "Don't you have a celebration to attend?"

"I could say the same to you."

Merlin shrugged. He turned to look back at the courtyard. "It's for you. You deserve it," he added on, honestly.

Arthur didn't say anything but came to stand beside Merlin, hands placed on the top of the stone wall. He said, "Your training starts tomorrow."

"I look forward to it," Merlin said.

He found that was quite true; it wasn't that he was all that thrilled to be training how to fight. Will had always exceeded him in that and he didn't doubt Arthur was going to exasperated with Merlin's clumsiness, just as Will had been. But it would give him something to do, feel more like he was honouring his responsibilities of a Dragonlord.

"Good," Arthur said. "Because you certainly need it."

Merlin gave him a wry look. "I know how to hold my own."

"Hardly," Arthur said. He looked at him steadily. "But you will."

Merlin shrugged. "Maybe."

They fell into silence and there was something Merlin wanted to say but he wasn't sure how approach it -- especially since it was likely to go to Arthur's already inflated ego. Finally, he blurted out, "I find I need to thank you again. I hope that doesn't become a reoccurring thing."

Arthur looked at him, eyebrows raised. "It does seem to be becoming a common occurrence, doesn't it?"

Merlin huffed. "It is a mutual thing, you prat," Merlin said. Before he could be scolded, he continued, "But if not for you I'd probably be without a head right now."

Arthur paused. "It seemed only right."

"I know," Merlin said. "The dragon's still out there. I'm needed, for a while."

"That's not what I meant," Arthur said.

Merlin looked at Arthur, surprised. It had sounded a bit like a compliment and that was never anything he expected from Arthur.

A part of Merlin felt terribly guilty; that he had to hide who he really was from Arthur, keep his magic secret. He knew he couldn't tell the truth, not right now, but maybe someday. Merlin had no strong attachment to Uther, a king who ordered the death of Merlin's father and all the other Dragonlords. But Merlin saw something different in Arthur. And, if the dragon was right, Arthur would unite Albion. And Merlin would help him.

In Arthur, Merlin saw his true destiny.

Naturally, Arthur had no idea and it wasn't as though he believed in destiny. But, Merlin could believe enough for both of them.

Arthur carried on, becoming arrogant again. "Of course, you still have to prove yourself to not be completely useless."

"Gee, thanks, sire," Merlin said sarcastically.

"Are you ever going to learn?"

Merlin quipped, "Apparently I have no choice but to."

Arthur grinned at him and Merlin took it to be quite evil, actually. He might have to think again about where his loyalties lay. Arthur said, "Tomorrow is going to be fun. For me, anyway."

Merlin blinked and then rolled his eyes. "Oh, fabulous, sire. Can't wait."

Arthur chuckled and clapped Merlin on the shoulder, a bit roughly. "Come now," Arthur said, "there's a tankard of mead waiting inside for you."

"If you're trying to have me ill for tomorrow, I don't think that's very fair," Merlin said dryly, falling into step beside Arthur as they headed inside.

"But it will be so amusing, wouldn't it?"

Merlin sighed, acting quite put upon. But when Arthur flashed him a quick smile, Merlin couldn't help but return it.

**

In Ealdor, Hunith woke from her sleep, eyes flashing gold. There was no one there to see it, though; Balinor was gone now, Will travelling down a well-beaten road home, and Merlin was in Camelot celebrating with a prince.

But Hunith smiled, feeling at peace for the first time in a fortnight.

She took comfort in knowing that her sons were on the right paths to their destinies.

~end