Disclaimer: I do not own "Sorcerer's Apprentice" or any of its incredible characters. I really wish I owned Balthazar, but unfortunately Veronica beat me to him. A pity.

Forever Changing

"We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person."
-William Somerset Maugham

Veronica

She watched him sleep, marveling at how little he'd changed in over a thousand years. His face was the same as the one that had been etched into her memory. Merlin's spell had given them that much at least. She gently traced her fingers over the new, faint lines in his face. Lines made from such repeated expressions that even magic couldn't stop them in its halt of time's touch. Worry and stress lines gracing his face and making him appear just a touch older than she remembered, though more beautiful in her eyes as well. They spoke of the care and passion that he had never lost in all that time. All those years that she hadn't realized had passed until he'd gently broken it to her last night, and she'd realized that those faint, unexpected lines had come from centuries of lonely pain. It saddened her to notice that his face bore no lines from laughter. Even in sleep, she could see how he had suffered all these years. It didn't really matter to her how young or old he was. He could look as old as Merlin for all she cared as long as he was with her. Still, with all other changes around her, it was nice looking into his eyes as she had last night, or watching his peaceful sleep and seeing the same man she'd fallen in love with so long ago.

She knew he would be different now. She would need to prepare herself for that. Physical stasis or not, all men were affected by time and life circumstance. Her Balthazar had always reacted strongly to the world around him. And, though he of course had said nothing of it during their first night alone together in so long, she knew that his life had been a personal hell for him. A terribly lonely one.

One change already. He'd told her bits of his solitary search. And she'd noticed that as the stories progressed, the number of friends he'd had diminished. For as long as five hundred years, Balthazar had had no friends. No one to care about him. No one whom he'd have to watch age and die as he lived unaging. He'd learned to avoid people. Such a change. Her Balthazar had always loved people. Loved being around them. Talking. Joking. Laughing. He'd made friends easily, cared about them deeply. Certainly, he had been different in battle. As one of Merlin's best, he was a truly fearsome sorcerer. Deadly. Another man entirely. But he more than made up for it during their rare moments of freedom. He'd always had such a warm passion for life. And he'd always believed deeply that love would save the world. There had been an unquenchable light in his eyes that she had marveled at, even in the worst of times. It had been one of his greatest strengths.

It was hard for her to see how much that light had dimmed. Not died. Balthazar was far too resilient, and his kindness and passion were too much the core of his being. But there was a touch of bitterness about him now. A dark cynicism that had occasionally brushed the surface while they'd talked. Those changes were hard for her to watch, because she couldn't imagine what sort of pain could do that to him. It would take a long time to draw that light out of him again, and she knew that he'd never be perfectly healed, even by her. Some wounds left scars. They could fade over time, but they never quite went away.

And then there were other parts of him had died a long time ago.

His unwavering trust, for instance. He would never get that back. He'd been betrayed too deeply. It would be a miracle if he ever truly trusted anyone again other than herself.

And that apprentice of his, she amended, smiling faintly. She would be eternally grateful to that boy. For more things than he could ever know. For saving Balthazar's life, apparently more than just this once. For refusing to lock him in the Grimhold. For defending them both, even though he didn't know her, not only because it was the right thing to do, but because Balthazar's well-being depended on it. And there were other smaller, though just as significant things.

She had noted the subtle changes in Balthazar's voice and expression when he spoke of his apprentice. The light glowed intensely in his eyes in those moments. He spoke with a fierce pride, as though the boy were his own son, which in retrospect, wasn't surprising. From the youth's actions the night before, she could tell that David saw Balthazar as more than just a mentor. She had only once before seen a bond like theirs between master and apprentice. And that had been between Balthazar and his own master, Merlin. It warmed her to see his own apprentice return that same unspoken respect—even love—for him. He made Balthazar smile. Brought him back to his old self as much as was humanly possible at this point without even realizing what kind of miracle he was achieving. For that she was deeply grateful.

She ran her fingers lightly over his face, relaxed in sleep. Not relishing the pain he'd try to mask from her again when his eyes opened. He'd taken a vicious beating the night before. Burns, wounds, broken bones. And an overall weakness from his attacks and defenses. From pulling Morgana into himself and holding her there as she fought to kill him from the inside.

For those long moments of death when she was certain she'd lost him.

The only energy he'd had left in his body when it was all over was what David had given him to restart his heart. He had not told his apprentice how weak he was when the boy had left them to celebrate with his own love. Balthazar had just left his apprentice to his naive belief that his master was now fine. And, as Balthazar had said, the boy had earned a night of freedom. He would come back soon enough. From his voice, she could tell he had faith in David. Their bond was close enough that he could miraculously trust in that. And, she knew that when the boy returned, Balthazar would never let David know how badly injured and close to death he still had been when his apprentice had left them. He would never let the boy feel any guilt over this rash decision to leave. He was young. They both clearly remembered how it had been to be young and in love. And from his smile and gentle touch of her face. The way he'd almost reverently put the necklace around her throat that he'd carried with him for so long. The way he'd watched her every movement... she realized that he was still as in love with her as ever. Another reason she had been so shocked at how much time had passed. How could any man love one person so passionately for so long? She wouldn't have expected that from anybody. Even from him. It was impossible. Though one of Balthazar's most impressive skills had been achieving the impossible.

After that gentle moment-the almost reverent kiss he'd stolen-they'd attempted to move, and the full extent of Balthazar's injuries began rear its ugly head. Even he hadn't known that he was in such bad shape. She had healed what wounds she could before her own strength began to falter, then carefully supported him as they made their way back to his apprentice's training room to rest. The temporary cot he'd set up in the corner had been too small for both of them, so she'd thrown together a bed of blankets on the floor, ignoring Balthazar's weak protests that she could use the cot. He was ridiculous to think she'd allow even that small amount of space to come between them. Not now. Not ever again. Anyway, she was used to the old straw pallets from so long ago. His time in the ever changing world had made some Old World details, still so fresh in her mind, slip his. He would be teaching her about his modern world. She would be reminding him of their past. She liked that thought.

But first thing when he awoke, she would need to heal the those few injuries remaining that she was skilled enough to manage, hoping that the rest would mend more quickly as a result. Trying as best she could not to react to the scars that had torn up his body during a millennium of war in which he had been the only remaining line of defense. Balthazar against Morgana's scattered army. One man against the world. Alone.

She closed her eyes a moment, clearing those images from her mind. Just feeling the familiar face beneath her fingers. Knowing that the same heart beat within his battered chest. Comforted by how she had seen last night that through all of the inevitable changes time had dealt, that he hadn't changed at his core. For better or for worse, it was still her Balthazar. They could deal with the rest later.

Together.

For now she would just enjoy the warmth of being near him, nestled in beside him, her head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

Comforted by its steady rhythm, she fell back to sleep.

Author's Note: This is how lame I truly am. After watching the movie just over a week ago, I went and paid to see it again. I also found the Junior Novelization and bought that (Surprisingly good. I don't know if the guy had access to deleted scenes or if he just REALLY knew the characters well enough to manage this, but there are lines that were not in the movie but are completely IC. Made me quite happy.)

Anyway, getting past the random note there, I couldn't help but wonder how Veronica would view Balthazar after all of that time for him to change. Think about how much a person you haven't seen in years changes. Imagine what 1,300 years would do. So, this is what came of it. I hope you enjoy.

As always, thanks so much for reading. Reviews would be appreciated.

Dewa mata.

Sirius