Box

One definition of "Box" just so this makes sense to everyone: Make a complete change of direction as in "by now the breeze had boxed the compass"

If you're like me and think Balinor's death was the worst (well except for Arthur's) then this is for you. Prequel of sorts to 'Sad' but you don't have to read that one. Some dialogue taken from S2 Ep12

"What if one of them was your son?"

'That would be another story. Unfortunately…' "I don't have a son."

Was it his imagination or was there grave disappointment in the young stranger's eyes when Balinor said that?

The look reoccurred when he turned them away for the last time. The Pendragon prince was outraged of course but Balinor couldn't have cared less about his anger. As far as he was concerned that family was receiving retribution long overdue.

The other boy though...he was a puzzle. It was as if he expected better of the dragonlord. That the suffering of Camelot's people should be enough to overcome Balinor hurt. That he should help them simply because it was the right thing to do. Once upon a time he had believed that as well. And in return for his belief - indeed because of it - he'd lost everything he'd loved. One day that boy - Merlin he'd said his name was - one day Merlin would learn the same. And Balinor did not care to be there to witness the loss.

And yet the way he'd said Gaius name, as if the old man had told him of the dragonlord, had built an expectation in his mind and Balinor was failing miserably to live up to it, it tugged at the fugitive. There had to be something very personal in their relationship, why else would Gaius have risked revealing the truth of how he'd helped Balinor escape. And where he had escaped to. The boy knew the name Ealdor, no one else would have bothered mentioning that detail. Why?

Well whatever reason the words did their job. Balinor was on his visitor's trail less than an hour after they left. They were on horseback and him on foot so it was unsurprising he didn't catch up until they stopped to make camp for the night.

He made sure to make sufficient noise as he approached so as not to take them by surprise. The prince at least had the appearance of a trained warrior and Balinor didn't want to end up at the wrong end of a sword.

"You'll return with us then?" the prince asked once he'd announced himself.

Balinor ignored him, keeping his eyes on the dark haired young man in front of him. "You were right Merlin. There are some in Camelot who risked their life for me. I owe a debt that must be repaid." 'And I want to know why that old goat thinks he can get away with spilling my darkest secrets to little more than a child!'

Pendragon accepted that explanation and headed off to collect them something fresh for dinner, ordering Merlin to go gather firewood.

Merlin obeyed although it was a minute before he took his eyes off the dragonlord. Something about the look of pride in them teased at a memory in the back of Balinor's mind but when nothing more formed he dismissed it to focus on the task at hand.

Agreeing to their request didn't mean he was at peace with it. A battle raged within him over the best way to approach dealing with Kilgharrah. The innocents he was attacking deserved rescue, that much he conceded. But to outright killing the last dragon went against everything he'd ever believed.

Without anything better to do Balinor wandered a short distance away to collect some wood himself. A hot meal at least would be welcome should the prince manage to catch anything after all the commotion they'd been causing. Merlin joined him before long.

There was an excitement to the young man's manner, one he was doing a poor job of playing off. He tried to make small talk for a while, commenting about the dampness of the wood and asking questions about Balinor's healing skills. The dragonlord tried hard not to be short with him, seeing as the boy was rather painfully trying build up his courage for something.

"You mentioned Ealdor." He started off, shuffling a little.

"Yes." 'And I wish I hadn't.' God only knew what lengths Uther would go through to eliminate all traces of Balinor's existence when all this was over with.

"I grew up there." Alright that might explain why he knew of Balinor's presence there. Gaius might have told him thinking it would instill some sort of favorable connection. Or perhaps...

"My mother's name is Hunith."

"I see." It took all his strength to force those words out in anything but a heartbroken tone. 'It wasn't like you would have any chance of going back after all these years', he reminded himself. 'Better for her to have forgotten me and started a family of her own.'

Merlin was bouncing slightly on his feet, as if begging him to say something else - anything else. When he didn't the boy took a deep, shuddering breath and added. "I'm your son."

'Oh…'

The analytical side of Balinor's mind took over momentarily, trying to quickly calculate how much time had passed since he's left. Adding the age Arthur must be now with the months required for a full term pregnancy...Oh who was he fooling? The child is Hunith's, that much was clear from a thousand little signs. Ones only a man who still loved her as he did could see. And if she told her son Balinor was his father then who was he to doubt her word? Still that didn't mean he had a clue what to do and his son was clearly waiting for him to speak.

"I don't know what it is to have a son," he said, praying his boy would understand the implication. 'Please don't expect too much. Don't expect me to know how to care for you when you've grown up without me.'

Those blue eyes so much like his mother's glistened brightly. "Nor I a father." 'I'm not asking you for anything,' those eyes said. 'I'm just happy I found you.'

A lump half laugh, half sob caught in Balinor's throat and he just managed to nod and smile a little at the young man who's now drinking in the sight of him with an openness lost to the dragonlord long before his son was even born.

Arthur wandered back within earshot minutes later, muttering crossly to himself and Merlin's expression turned panicked. "He can't know. We can't tell him."

It took everything Balinor had not to laugh. As if he'd ever expose his child to that kind of risk. No, if Merlin had a death wish he could tell Arthur himself. His father's lips were sealed.

Late that night, after Arthur had consumed the majority of the simple meal Merlin cooked up - something a critical look over his son's lean frame told Balinor was a common occurrence - and fallen fast asleep, father and son got a chance to speak freely again.

The talk was more subdued and far more meaningful as far as Balinor was concerned. He explained the sacred bonds between dragon and dragonlord and how such connections formed while his son hung on every word.

Again the thought of that Kilgharrah's death would make him the last one to experience such a kinship tore at him. Perhaps he could stomach it more if he'd died alongside the dragon as he had been half convinced would never mind the prince's promise of a reward. Balinor was well acquainted with Uther's idea of rewards.

But fates curse him if he let that happen now. Not when he had a chance at regaining a small part of what had been stolen from him.

It wouldn't be easy, but a deception might be possible. One that left his son safe and the prince ignorant. Balinor's power over the dragon was not something that had faded with time. If he put his mind to it Kilgharrah would bow to his will. Arthur had asked for the dragon to be stopped and stop him Balinor would. What did it matter if dragon and dragonlord were living or dead after that, so long as they disappeared for good?

Now to convince his son to leave with him.

He pondered that problem late into the night as his hands took comfort in the familiarity of carving, shaping a block of wood into something unique and watching the firelight play across his son's features. His boy was almost grown and he seemed attached to Camelot. Would he be willing to put his (up to this point absent) father's wishes above his friends?

Finally with his carving finished - a small dragon, as if that should surprise anyone - and eyelids heavy, the dragonlord laid down to rest. He could get a better idea of where he stood with his son in the morning.

It would figure wouldn't it, he thought as the soldier's sword pierced his gut. Just when he had something to live for something like this had to happen.

That was the last coherent thought he formed for some time. What followed was a blur of pain induced hallucinations. The sound of his son crying out in rage assaulted his ears followed by another voice yelling with almost equal force.

The voices grew closer and hands pressed themselves to his wound. Merlin's face appeared above his and Balinor's lips part. Apology, advice, assurances of affection that should have been given the boy's entire life, he's not sure what words his brain would have tried to force out but nothing escaped but a painful moan. It was doubtful Merlin would have heard him anyway over the sounds of arguing and pleading going on between him and the prince.

The world's gone half dark when at last a sigh and a murmur come from the Arthur's mouth and Merlin's eyes changed. At least he thinks they do, it might just be him slipping. It certainly looked as if those beautiful eyes flash from blue to gold. A brighter gold then even the most brilliant dragon scales.

The air above Balinor vibrated as the healing words he'd muttered over the Pendragon boy's shoulder were repeated over and over again until at last the pain in his stomach is all but gone. Whether that was good or bad he couldn't decide but it mattered not as his eyes drifted shut and there was nothing but darkness.

'If this is the afterlife I could do without it.' They say first impressions are everything. Well Balinor's first impressions were his stomach hurt, his throat was parched, the ground he was lying on was damp, and the view above him looked entirely too much like the place he'd been killed.

After some minutes of lying still gathering his strength he pushed himself up to a sitting position. The pain in his midsection flared fiercely with the movement before settling down to a dull ache. It then growled, reminding him of the paltry meal he'd consumed the night before and his lack of breakfast. Being dead was going to be mighty inconvenient.

"Father!"

Or, maybe he wasn't dead. The armful of trembling young man he now had seemed to be dispelling that notion. Merlin pulled back and gripped Balinor's head between his hands, studying him earnestly.

"Do...can you... are you alright?"

Balinor shifted slowly, considering. "Given what happened, I suppose I can't complain. Although I'm rather curious to find out exactly how I'm alive."

"Um..well.." Merlin rubbed at the back of his neck. "You know how you said you can't be taught a certain something, you either have it or you don't..?"

Half formed impressions started clicking in Balinor's mind and he didn't like the picture. "Tell me," he said slowly, "you didn't openly use magic in front of a Pendragon." The look on his son's face was all the answer he needed. "Are you insane child?!"

"No more insane than you with what you did!" Merlin protested.

Balinor shook his head. "I am your father. Pretty sure it's written somewhere that it is my job to do insane things for you."

"Once," Merlin's voice choked a little. "It's your job to do insane things for me once."

A chuckle escaped the dragonlord as he wiped a tear off his son's cheek. "So it's true. Gods boy, what are we going to do?"

"Maybe say thank you?"

Balinor blinked, "What?"

"Arthur, he didn't stop me, well he tried and then I said who you were to me and...I don't know but I think...I think he'll be ok with it."

'That's going to take a minute or two.' Balinor rubbed a hand across his beard, unsure whether he should be questioning his son's sanity or his own. He was saved from having to decide by Arthur's reappearance.

The prince watched the two of them in silence for some minutes, holding up a hand to forestall Merlin speaking. His expression didn't appear angry, just anxious and sad. Looking Balinor in the eye he asked, "Are you recovered enough to kill the dragon?"

Seemed now was as good a time as any to state where he truly stood on that subject. "I won't be killing him."

"You said you'd help-"

"And I will." Using his son's shoulders as leverage, the dragonlord pulled himself to his feet. "Camelot will be spared. Is there still a circular clearing about mile east of the citadel?"

"Yes. We used to use it for training."

"So did we. Kilgharrah knows its significance. He will come if a call him there. My son and I will take him away. You won't be bothered by him or us again."

He felt Merlin tense under his arm. "I'm not leaving," the protest was sharp in his ear.

"Son do you have any idea the risks you'd be taking if you stayed?"

"I always have been. They're my risks."

"Not anymore they're not. The prince knows who you are."

"He'd never turn me in!" Merlin sounded so certain Balinor found it difficult not to believe him. That wasn't the only problem though.

"But he'd be powerless to help you if you're caught. He'd never convince Uther to spare your life. And even if...even if he happened to be looking the other way and you managed to escape," Balinor let out a bitter laugh. "Let's just say being hunted the rest of your life is not the part of me I wish for you to take after. And think of the friends you'd leave behind. Are you so selfish as to let them be executed for associating with you? Ignorant or not?"

Merlin's wince had turned into a bristle by the time his father stopped talking. "For your information if I was as selfish as you say I never would have stayed this long. I have a duty to Albion and to Arthur. You expect me to believe he'll be safe if I leave?

It was clear the princely side of Arthur wanted to scoff at the idea of Merlin being the one keeping him safe, but something stopped him. Maybe it was concern for the dragonlord's reaction, or maybe he had inherited some brains from his mother and was now putting pieces together from things that had happened previously. The latter seemed to be the case as he eventually sighed and gave Merlin a look of almost gratitude.

"It's a chance we'll have to take," he said. Merlin turned the mutinous look on him but Arthur didn't back down. He gestured to edge of the clearing opposite to the dragonlord's bedroll. "Come here a minute. Please?"

Every inch of him screaming unwillingness Merlin followed. They stopped too far for Balinor to catch more than a few scattered sentences of the conversation, usually when one raised their voice to cut the other off. What he could hear gave him a surprisingly positive impression. Things like:

"No you're not banished! It's only temporary…" "Write, visit, whatever you want…" ...If I could promise you'd be safe sooner than that I would but you know…."

"But that could take years!" Merlin finally snapped.

"Merlin you have a chance to be with your family, your whole family!" Arthur replied, apparently having given up on hiding their words. "Are you really going to throw that away? Do you have any idea what I'd-"

"Arthur-"

"You know I could just knock you out right? It wouldn't take much. I've said so from the day we met."

Merlin snorted. "I'll have you know it's actually very difficult to render someone unconscious with a single blow."

"I assure you I'm quite capable of it."

"Are you? Because in two years I've never even seen you come close."

"You really want to take the chance?"

"Do you?" Merlin asked gesturing with his eyes to where Balinor was standing. Half of the dragonlord was tempted to intervene like a protective parent should, the other wanted to laugh in bewilderment at the free, almost casual way his son was arguing with Uther's.

Albion Merlin had said. Seemed Kilgharrah hadn't given up on that despite decades of it not happening. If this semblance of a bond between these two young men was real then maybe there was a chance.

"Shall we see to first things first?" He finally asked interrupting the stare off. Arthur nodded in agreement and moved to collect the horses.

"We're not done talking about this," Merlin insisted to no one in particular. He didn't acknowledge the other two's sighs of exasperation.

A rustling in the bushes sent Balinor's sense of self preservation sky high. It had been two days since his near fatal encounter with a sword. Noise - any noise - now immediately put him on guard.

After a moment's tense study of his surroundings he realized the disturbance was only Merlin fighting his way through the undergrowth, one hand holding tight to the reins of a jumpy horse.

When they finally reached him Balinor was torn between chiding his son for being late - it was long past sundown, the hour at which he'd said he would meet up if he decided to come - and wrapping him in a relieved hug.

"Sorry I could only bring one," Merlin preempted the decision, gesturing to the animal. "People would wonder otherwise."

"The prince gave you a horse?"

Merlin shrugged off his surprise. "I'm the only one he doesn't bite. Besides that he's a good horse, mother will appreciate having him. For the time we're borrowing him at least." He stressed the fifth word ever so slightly.

Balinor shifted his feet. "I feel I should apologize. I know how upset leaving is making you."

"You think it shouldn't. Don't think I've haven't always dreamt of having you with me I just..."

"You had a life here. I understand." Fine words but practically meaningless now. He really should have thought this whole thing through better. 'Some fatherly wisdom would be good right about now. Come on think!'

"I know you'll find-"

"I've sent a letter on ahead. Mother will be expecting us."

'Alright, scrap the wisdom.' He'd have to let Merlin lead the conversation for awhile, until they got their feet under them so to speak. Right now the boy clearly didn't want to talk about this.

"We're not putting her in danger going back there?"

"No. Nearly all the people who'd remember you are gone now. And as far as anyone knows I'm taking a leave of absence to help her through a rough patch. So there's nothing odd about my being home. Arthur wouldn't let anything happen to her in any case. He's almost as protective as I am."

"Arthur Pendragon is protective your mother?"

"Oh yes. So much that he once defied Uther's ruling and came to help Ealdor fight off raiders. Snuck out and everything."

"When was this?"

"About a year ago."

Taking the horse's lead, Balinor raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like an interesting story?" he prompted.

Merlin smiled a little hesitantly and fell into step next to him. "Well it all started when…"