A/N: So I've always wondered how Balinor left Hunith since I've believe that Hunith wouldn't just let him walk away without a fight so this is my take on it! Enjoy :)

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When he was a child on dark stormy nights his father would pick him and place him on his knees. The fire would be roaring to combat the chill that was created

by the storm. To ease his fears his father would always say. "Son, some nights are made for torture, or reflection, or the savoring of loneliness. But you are still

too young for these things no? Cheer up lad the storm shall pass." Balinor would nod his head wanting to make his papa proud he would say nothing about his

father's words not easing the fear that would remain in his chest and the doubt that he would ever find a night that would fit any of those. Balinor appreciated

the irony that he was proven wrong now. He had not meant to stay so long in Ealdor only for a week or two and then moving on deeper into the kingdom of

young King Cenred. No laws banning magic had been created yet and Uther had not dared to seek him here after he had fled. Until now he thought darkly. I will

never be free of that accursed king. Though there was a deep distrust of magic in these outer lying villages and so he had planned on moving deeper into the

country. However those one or two weeks had turned into several months bordering on a year when a woman with fire in her eyes had somehow convinced

him to stay. The regret at what he was about to do tore at his soul and made Balinor curse himself for not listening to Gauis and moving on when he should

have. Balinor looked over to Hunith who was curled up underneath the tread bare blankets that she refused to let him mend by magic claiming that if he did

everything with magic then he would grow fat and lazy. He smiled at how he proved to her that he was in fact not fat and lazy. Glancing down at the pack on

the table full to the brim with things he would need on his journey out of the town the smile turned into a frown and a sigh of regret. Once more, and know

that it would not be his last, he cursed Uther. Rage stirred inside his chest like a snake ready to strike at anyone that came to close to it. He felt like he could

march straight to Camelot and that no one could stop him. Then when he reached the king he would drag him to a pyre and burn him. Just like Uther burned all

his kin. Hunith stretching out on the bed with a soft hum distracted him from his dark thoughts, but they still simmered at the base of his mind waiting to be

dwelled upon again. Doing these actions, he knew, would get him killed and fail at what he so wished he could do. So he stared down at his pack trying to find

the energy that would make him move from this spot and leave the woman who was quickly becoming the center of his very world. The thoughts of the soldiers

coming to kill him made him want to stand and fight. He was no coward dammit. Picturing the scene clearly in his head he saw the knights riding into Ealdor

with their stupid billowing capes streaming behind them. Then him standing proud and tall in the middle of their way. The words of the ancient language would

fall from his lips like apples falling from trees and the soldiers would fall not unlike bugs come winter time. There he would stand proud and untouched and the

town's people would gather around him in awe. Hunith would come running towards him grateful that he was unhurt. She would leap into his arms and he

would spin her around with joy and then he would get down on one knee and propose to her right then and there. Propriety be damned. That allusion was

cruelly shattered by a fly that buzzed around his ear and he was painfully reminded that Hunith abhorred the killing of anything. She would not take kindly to

him slaughtering men who were doing as they were told. The town's people also would not stare at him in awe, but in fear and disgust. This was a simple town

whose sole thoughts were centered around food, shelter, and living through the next winter. These people held no care for mad kings in another kingdom over

unless they threatened their lives. Scowling now and furious with himself he yanked the bag shut and swung it aggressively over his shoulder and stalked

towards the door. "Balinor?" The soft voice made him freeze in place with his hand half way to the door. He turned to see Hunith standing there with her

nightgown halfway of her shoulder and her face a mask of puzzlement. Her eyes lit up with a question and a fear that maybe she did not want to know the

answer.

"What are you doing?" The softly spoke question ripped a hole in his heart and his wonders when he let someone affect him so much.

"I'm leaving Hunith." His voice is as soft as hers.

"Why? I did not think you such a cruel man to share many a night with a woman and then leave her in the dead of the night without a word." She asks him

pain now in her voice. The bag tumbles to the ground he quickly strides to her.

"No, no my dear. That is not true. But sadly that is partially why I will admit. For you see Uther sends his troops to Ealdor right now intending to capture me and

bring me to Camelot and burn me at the stake. I wanted to leave now so that you and your people will not be caught also and accused of harboring me. I was

going to leave a note…" He trails off when he sees Hunith's face quickly becoming angrier with every word he speaks.

"A note," she snarls, "that is what you think will be a good way to say good bye? What will it say hmm? Dear Hunith, so sorry for leaving you in the middle of

the night after we both have confessed our love for each other and shared many a night together in bed, but I am being hunted by a deranged king and most

suddenly leave in the night without properly saying good bye. Balinor. Is that what it will say?" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I should slap

you." She breaths out.

"You would have every right." He mummers. Hunith crosses her arms and just nods once her lips pressed into a thin line that reminds him of his stern tutor that

would smack his knuckles with a switch if he forgot one of his letters. They stand there and the only sounds that keep it from being silent are the crickets

outside of the cottage.

"Why do you leave during the night?" Hunith's question startles him out of his thoughts. He wants to spew out some lie that it is easier to travel at night and

that he will get further without having to duck down at every pacing traveler, but the truth is that it will just be easier for him.

"Because I couldn't say good bye."

"Who says that you have to?" Balinor jerks his head up at this statement.

"What?"

"I'm coming with you." Is all she says before she is a whirl wind of motion throwing things across the room and striping down to nothing and then pulling on

traveling clothes. Throughout all of this Balinor stands there with his mouth in the dirt with a gob smacked expression on his face. It only rejoins the rest of his

face when Hunith stands before him, packed and with a determined look upon her beautiful face. They could fight and argue about how she should not come.

That she has a life here and that she could be happy here without him. But he knows that he will not win the fight and that she would just follow after him. He

smiles down at her and she smiles up at him and he knows that he made to the right choice in staying for this long a time. He pulls open the door for and gives

her a mock bow to which she laughs and they step onto the road to begin their journey together and where his father also had his somewhat dark quotes for

dark times his mother had always said, "even if your path is rough it does not seem so if you have the one that will carry your heart for you along the way."

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A/N2: Tadaaa! Let me know what you think and if you might want to see what happens next!