A big thanks to all those who reviewed and for your kind words :) I'm really starting to get into this story and I hope to be able to publish a new chapter every day or so.
When they finally got Merlin changed and settled into bed, aided by a sobbing Hunith, Balinor turned to Arthur and demanded an explanation.
"We were just sparring." The golden-haired boy stated simply with a shrug, regaining his normal sense of composure.
The room fell silent and Arthur began to squirm under the skeptical eye of his father.
"Well…" He finally admitted, shame crossing his face, "I might have… goaded him on a little."
Balinor sighed heavily. "What do you mean?" Arthur looked uncomfortable, unable to meet his father's grey-blue eyes with his own.
"I… might have… calledhimhurlgurl…" The last few words came out so close together that Balinor was unable to understand them.
"What? Arthur…" His voice turned suddenly stern. "Tell the truth… now."
"Fine… I said that I might have… told him that he fights like a girl and pushed him." Guilt built up behind the boy's fierce blue eyes. "But I didn't mean for him to fall or anything! I mean he always falls, but he always gets back up!"
Balinor studied his son's face for a long time after his outburst. It was clear that the boy regretted his actions but it did not change the fact that he had, unintentionally, put his brother's life in danger.
"I've told you to be careful Arthur… You know that Merlin is not nearly as strong as you are." Balinor stated plainly, though not unsympathetically.
Arthur sucked in an annoyed breath. "You always take his side! It's not fair!" The boy stood up from the foot of Merlin's bed where he had been sitting. "It's not my fault that he's weak and I'm not!"
"Arthur I never said that it was your fault, all that I said was that you need to be more careful in the future!" Balinor stood up too. He was still a good deal taller than Arthur, though the boy had been growing like a weed lately.
"No! You don't even know what happened! He pushed me down first!" Arthur spat the next two words out like poison. "With magic!"
It was obvious that the boy was upset, Balinor had just mistaken it for concern earlier but now it seemed that it was deeper than that. Eyes brimming with tears, Arthur ducked past his father and ran out of their small house, slamming the wooden door behind him.
Balinor sighed and looked to Hunith, who had been watching the fight silently from the head of Merlin's bed. She shook her head sadly over what had just happened.
"Dear… you better go talk to him. I'll stay here with Merlin." Her voice was soft and full of understanding and helped to calm the rage building inside Balinor, it always did. The man instantly lost any anger he had felt towards his wayward son and replaced it instead with concern. She was right. It was time for a talk, whether Balinor liked it or not.
"Arthur." The boy jumped at the sound of his name, despite the understanding and calm tone that it was said in. He had hoped that his father wouldn't come after him when he retreated to his "secret" hiding place, the hay loft of their old barn. It was a sacred place for Arthur. The sweet smell of hay and straw and musty one of saddle leather always managed to calm the blond down.
There was a strained silence in which Arthur thought that his father would look for him elsewhere but the sudden creaking of the wooden ladder that led up to the loft soon told him differently. A moment later Balinor emerged into the small space and joined his son among the piles of straw.
"What's bothering you son?" Arthur hesitated. He loved his father, and Merlin, so there was really no forgiving his actions earlier.
"I'm sorry." Arthur breathed meekly, unable to think of a better thing to say.
A firm, yet gentle hand clasped his shoulder and Arthur looked up into the concerned eyes of his father. "For what? Pushing Merlin? I know Arthur, it was an accident. I'm sorry that I yelled at you earlier."
The blond looked down at his fingers which were meticulously tearing apart strands of straw.
"But… I can tell that's not all that's on your mind. So come on then, out with it." Arthur looked up sheepishly at Balinor, but was unable to meet his gaze.
"Why… why am I so… different?" He hesitated for a moment. "From you and… Merlin?"
Balinor's grip on his shoulder strengthened. "You're not, Arthur. Not different at all. Just because you have blond hair doesn't make you different."
"No that's not what I mean." Arthur continued unsteadily, "I mean why do you and Merlin have… magic and I don't?"
The comforting hand on his shoulder disappeared and Arthur looked up to see it running through his father's graying, long hair. The man sighed heavily and looked around the loft with sad eyes.
"You know I always loved the stables when I was growing up." Arthur was momentarily taken aback by his father's response. He had never heard him talk of his past before; it was always just one of those things that they never pressed for.
"The castle stables, specifically." Balinor took a deep breath before continuing. "Did you know that I grew up in Camelot?" The man looked up and chuckled softly at Arthur's shocked expression.
"No, I suppose that you didn't. I always thought that your mother would have let it slip one of these days but I guess I give her less credit than she deserves." His words suddenly grew sad. "I grew up with man, or I should say, a prince named Uther. Uther Pendragon, to be specific."
Arthur's mouth literally fell open at the mention of the current king of Camelot.
"I was nothing more than… well a servant really. Uther and I were around the same age and we spent most of our childhood together. We must have broken every rule in that castle when we were boys. That Uther loved to cause trouble!" The memory elicited a dry laugh from the man. "But then… then the king died and Uther was forced to take over. He didn't have a clue what he was doing when the wars came."
Balinor's face grew dark as he spoke. "So many died… It broke Uther apart. You see, he believed that the cause of all the death was magic. His knights and soldiers could do little against the sorcerers that they faced. After the war, Uther went on a rampage, killing those with magic before they had a chance to use it against his kingdom. Of course he never hurt me. I already swore my allegiance to his precious Camelot, already fought his wars for him."
"Uther's madness consumed him. He killed hundreds before he was satisfied. It seemed that he'd never stop his needless slaughter – that is until the sorceress Nimueh came forth and offered him an ultimatum. She was willing to give him the one thing that he wanted most yet could not have."
Arthur leaned forward, eyes wide. "What was that?"
"A son." Balinor stated simply. "Ygraine, his wife was barren. No matter much they hoped she could not give Uther the heir he wanted. So in order to stop the slaughter of her people, Nimueh told him that it was within her power to grant him a son."
"But how is that possible? Can someone really hold that much power?" Arthur asked in disbelief.
"She was a priestess of the old religion and had a true understanding of the old ways."
"You speak of her in the past tense… is she dead?" Arthur asked tentatively. His father spoke of the sorceress as though she was an old friend.
Balinor scratched his chin, feeling the stubble that had formed since the last time he shaved. "That's hard to say. I personally would like to believe yes, but my heart tells me otherwise. Anyway, Uther desperately wanted a son, more than you could imagine. So he took the deal and stopped his prosecution of magic. Nine months later, he had his son."
Something was bothering Arthur about his father's story but at first he couldn't put his finger on it. Then it finally came to mind why it sounded so wrong.
"But if he took the deal, why is there no prince of Camelot?"
"Uther was a fool!" Balinor spat the words out with such anger that Arthur was suddenly frightened of his father. "He knew nothing of the old religion and didn't realize the full extent of the bargain that he had agreed to."
"To give life, a life must be taken." The man rambled off almost subconsciously. "It's one of the first rules of magic. But Uther was blinded by his desire for an heir and when his son was born, Nimueh came to collect the life that Uther had unknowingly traded."
"She sought to take Ygraine's life in exchange for her child's on the night of his birth but Uther refused to let her take it. But it is not that simple, you cannot just deny the old religion what it is owed. So instead, Nimueh decided that she would take the life of the child. This enraged Uther and he vowed that she would never touch the queen or the prince so to protect his son's life, Uther sent him far away, somewhere that the sorceress would never find him."
Arthur couldn't believe his ears. It all sounded so foreign - Kings, queens, evil sorceresses. Then a strange thought crept into the boy's head.
"Father… why are you telling me all of this?" He asked apprehensively.
Balinor smiled sadly and continued on, ignoring the previous question. "Uther gave the child to the only man he could trust to get him far away. In turn, that man ran, he ran far from Camelot and the sorceress."
The gears in Arthur's head began to turn. But it was impossible. It couldn't be.
"He ran," Tears had started to form in the man's eyes as he spoke, "To a little village, where he met a woman."
No.
"And he raised the child, the prince of Camelot as his own. And he loved the boy just as much as his own son, maybe even more."
Stop. Stop talking.
"But the boy deserved to know." Balinor pressed on despite Arthur's look of horror. "Who he was, where he came from."
I don't want to hear this. Just stop.
"So I'm telling you now. It's you, Arthur. It was I who Uther entrusted to keep you safe, and I brought you here to Ealdor seeking shelter when I met Hunith."
"Stop." Arthur's voice was barely a whisper. "I don't want to hear this."
"You're the Prince of Camelot, son of Uther Pendragon." A single tear rolled down Balinor's weathered cheek.
There was a long silence between the two. Arthur felt angry tears start to sting his eyes but refused to let them fall, choosing instead to blink them back furiously.
After some time Balinor just quietly stood up and looked down longingly at his son.
"You may not be my child in blood, but remember this Arthur; you always have and always will be my son. Never forget that." With that his father disappeared down the rickety ladder. The golden-haired boy listened to his father's footsteps fade away below him before letting the tears begin to fall.
Seeing a little bit of background now. It's still a bit slow but things must be explained, tears must be shed.
