Arthur tensed and pushed Merlin behind him. He heard the others rushing forward. Kilgharrah watched them with interest, but he didn't look the least bit threatened. Arthur didn't think the dragon had much to worry about, he had taken on Camelot's entire defences and won. The dragon's head rose as the others came forward, hurrying up the track, Percival trailing at the back, staring at the huge beast with awe and starting to wonder what sort of a situation he had stumbled upon.

Merlin was the only one who reacted without any fear. He eased himself past Arthur, taking a few steps towards the dragon. Arthur followed, reaching out to try and grab Merlin to haul him back. The dragon glared at him, which momentarily froze the prince and Merlin finished his walk up to the dragon, who lowered his head to be on Merlin's level. Reaching out Merlin petted the dragon's nose and then leant against him, sending the dragon almost cross-eyed as he tried to keep Merlin in view.

"Hello, big dragon."

The dragon eased his nose out from Merlin's hug, lifting his head again and looking, Arthur thought, mildly embarrassed.

"Hello, Merlin," Kilgharrah said, his head lifting a bit higher as the others came closer. They all had their weapons ready but they all realised it wouldn't make the slightest impression on the huge beast. Merlin shuffled closer, searching out tactile contact with the dragon, clambering onto his huge claw and sitting down, wrapping his arms around the dragon's leg.

"I'm tired," Merlin said.

"We have walked a long way," Gwaine conceded.

"Merlin said there was a cave here," Arthur said. "Can we rest there?"

Kilgharrah glared at Arthur. "It is a sacred place, it would not surprise me that a Pendragon would wish to desecrate it."

Merlin raised his head, sliding off Kilgharrah's paw as he lifted it. Cenred went to help pick him up off the floor.

"I have no wish to desecrate anything," Arthur said. "But Morgana's troops are starting to spread. If we can find a safe place to rest, then may we do so?"

Kilgharrah blinked and the backed up, turning himself and then slowly settling down, blocking the path with his body, hinting that the cave was still out of bounds.

"You may."

Merlin settled against him again, tucking himself against the dragon's side, almost prepared to set up camp against him. Arthur glanced at Lancelot.

"Percival and I will collect firewood," Lancelot said, getting the hint that they were probably staying where they were. With the dragon in close proximity, they could easily assume it was safe.

"I'll help," Percival offered and the pair headed off. Cenred shrugged and went to settle down next to Merlin. Cyan snuffled about close to Merlin, sniffing at the dragon before sitting by Merlin. Gwaine in the end also joined in, none of them seeming to have fear of the huge dragon. Arthur gritted his teeth and went over to them, kneeling down in front of Merlin.

"Are you all right Merlin?"

Merlin nodded. Arthur blinked as he looked at him. Merlin didn't look entirely like himself. He reached up and cupped Merlin's chin, turning his head to make the youth look at him.

"Merlin?"

Merlin gave a little smile, and looked up at the dragon, who had turned his neck to look at the group now clustered by his side. Arthur looked around, standing up as Leon returned with some wood.

"We'll use that coppice there," Arthur instructed Lancelot.

Lancelot gave a nod and went off, issuing some instructions to Percival, who was watched carefully by the dragon. Merlin's eyes followed their progress. Gwaine, after looking around for a moment, reluctantly got up.

"Merlin, I'll go and help them too, okay?"

"Yes," Merlin said.

They all worked, very quietly setting up the camp, so it left Merlin, Arthur and Cenred alone with the dragon. Kilgharrah watched, his eyes drifting to Merlin.

"Can we hunt here?" Arthur asked.

Kilgharrah lifted his head. "Excuse me?"

"Can we hunt on the mountain? We've brought supplies but they are low, if you give us licence to hunt, then it will be better for us."

"You think you might find something living on this mountain, with me?"

Arthur nodded. "I can see the trails, you let them be, but we need to feed ourselves, and we have gone days without food."

Kilgharrah stared at him and then suddenly stood up, sending Cenred and Merlin sprawling onto the ground under the dragon's belly. The others paused from setting up to head over to them, watching as the dragon flexed his huge wings and tensed his back legs to launch himself into the air, he circled and then flew off. Cenred wrapped his arms around Merlin and Merlin snuggled against him.

"What was that about?" Arthur said as he watched the dragon fly off.

"I have no idea," Cenred snapped. "And I don't care. All I care about is ending this and taking Merlin back home with me."

"Why do you think he's going with you?" Arthur asked in outrage.

"Oh, because he is going to want to stay in Camelot, Balinor will not, and Merlin will follow him. They'll be coming back with me."

"You won't use Merlin against me!" Arthur snapped. "Against Camelot."

"Merlin was born in my kingdom, you're not taking him."

Arthur opened his mouth to argue the point of Cenred caring about his citizens when a voice interrupted them.

"Your claims are both equal and precarious," the dragon rumbled as he reappeared. He lowered himself to the ground again, dropping the fresh carcass of a deer onto the ground. Merlin sat up and grimaced as he looked at it.

"You may be best not hunting, but your point is well made young Pendragon."

"Thank you," Arthur said. Lancelot and Percival went to grapple with the deer.

"I'll prepare this, I've found some mushrooms as well," Lancelot said. "I don't suppose you could light the fire?"

Kilgharrah glared at him, obviously offended. It was Merlin that solved the problem holding up his hand and concentrating. A moment later the fire, that Gwaine was trying to ignite by rubbing two sticks together, flared into life. He singed the ends of his hair, falling back and batting at them to put them out.

"Very good, little warlock," the dragon praised, making Merlin smile up at him.

"Don't you normally need to incant for things like that?" Lancelot asked.

"No," said Merlin.

"The little warlock's power is natural, he was born with it, he is not limited like those who had trained in the art. He is a creature of magic, like myself."

Lancelot frowned then seemed to accept that explanation. Instead he rooted out his hunting knife and started to skin the deer. They were going to have to wait for something to eat, but it would at least be worth it. At least they were going to have a chance to eat, and Lancelot decided that smoking some would be a good idea, they could take it back to the other group, who were struggling to survive at the abandoned castle. He hoped Gwen was all right, he hadn't liked leaving her, but he felt he had no choice but to follow Arthur on this quest.

"What would you ask of me, my little warlock?" Kilgharrah asked, settling down close to them.

"A sword forged in your breath, that will kill the bad men, and we can stop them and get father."

Arthur stepped forward, wanting to offer a clearer explanation. "Merlin was told that a sword forged in your breath will kill the living dead. Cenred's army is that, since they put their blood into the cup. If we empty the cup we stop them all. Morgana and Morgause must know that. We have to get in and empty the cup, but that will be guarded, we cannot get in without an advantage. The sword that you could forge would offer us that."

The Dragon's head lifted, staring at Arthur, and then around at the group.

"You, however, cannot compel me to do such a thing."

Arthur blinked, taken by surprise. He hadn't thought about that. Balinor was the Dragonlord. Arthur glanced Merlin, who was staring at the dragon, suddenly realising the same thing, and realising the implications, before he burst into tears.

Again it caused a huge distraction. Cenred pulled Merlin tighter into his arms, letting Merlin sob onto his shoulder. The dragon shuffled backwards, looking surprised at the sudden burst of emotion. Gwaine came dashing over and crouched close to Merlin and Cenred.

"Now look what you've done!" he shouted up at the dragon.

Both of them put their efforts into reassuring Merlin. Arthur looked at them, stepping forward a little, but then he looked up at the dragon. Very slowly the dragon looked from Merlin to him.

"Do you have any comprehension of what that will mean?" the dragon asked.

"It means I get my kingdom back, it means people are not killed when they are innocent."

The dragon tensed, flaring up, wing flexing. "A Pendragon dares to say that! You have killed innocents, children, for years!"

"That was my father!"

"And you would follow in his footsteps. Do you see magic as evil?"

"I do not condone it's use."

"Do you see magic as evil?"

"All I have seen is evil. What can be shown to me to change that?"

"The other side of your soul," Kilgharrah said gently, lowering his head and looking at Merlin. Merlin had reduced himself to sniffling and his eyes rolled up in the direction of the dragon, while keeping the rest of his face tucked down on Cenred's shoulder. The dragon regarded Merlin, his eyes softening slightly.

"I never said I would not," he told Merlin, moving his head closer.

"As if Merlin would get that distinction," Gwaine muttered, loudly. The dragon glared at him and then proceeded to ignore him, turning his attention back to Merlin.

"You are his teacher, you should have been."

The dragon paused and his gaze lifted to Arthur before looking back to Merlin. "Merlin would have taught you the ways of humility and compassion, and with that the way to magic would have been shown. Because he was not there another showed you the way, his grace and honour beyond compare."

"Sire?" Lancelot interrupted; just, it appeared, at the right moment. Arthur turned and looked at him.

"Yes?"

"We've set the camp, and everything is cooking, maybe we should rest before we eat. We won't be moving out until dawn. We're all tired, perhaps we should deal with this later."

"We need your help," Arthur said, calmly and succinctly to the dragon, while looking, very intently at Lancelot. "Will you forge the sword?"

Kilgharrah closed his eyes, looking for a moment like he was in pain, before he opened them again.

"I will young prince, give me the weapon you wish me to endow."

Arthur paused and looked around at the others. Lancelot was drawing his but then Merlin lifted his head again, to say in a strong, confident voice.

"Use Arthur's."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Balinor felt tired, and it was cold. Uther was using his coat without a second thought. The Dragonlord was not even given the blessing of unconsciousness. Pain kept him awake, increased by the cold. No one had yielded, the knights had stood strong as they had watched his torture. Balinor had to respect them for it. All of them knew, to kill him would give Merlin the power that he carried. Morgause knew the same, so she didn't dare kill him. But she could do so many things that brought him to the brink.

The two women still made the effort to care for them, or at least Uther. He was brought food, which the man had no appetite for. It was left to Balinor to encourage him to eat, and he gave the man his coat, while he himself suffered.

His own actions baffled him. He hated this man. Uther had driven his kind to extinction. Only he and Merlin remained as Dragonlords. But then again, there was only one dragon, it was a sickening balance, and one that could be greater settled. One dragon only needed one Dragonlord. That was why he had been destined to die, the moment Merlin would take his power, because he should have been at Arthur's side. Long before now, that was Merlin's place. Balinor had no part in the scheme of things. Merlin was destined as the last Dragonlord, no one else.

He didn't even know why he was still alive. Fate was playing cruel tricks. None crueller than this enforced separation from his son. That word, son, conjured up so much for him, an image of Merlin and a rush of so many emotions that Balinor could hardly begin to comprehend them. He had thought that he would die alone. The only one who might have mourned him would be Kilgharrah, possibly feeling his death, as he passed away, but feeling nothing for him. Balinor was, essentially, the man who had left him trapped in the bowels of Camelot.

Now things were so decidedly changed from those dark days of the great purge. Gaius had saved him, compassionate, but also perhaps practical. Uther meant to keep a dragon, to destroy all of the Dragonlords was perhaps a folly born of obsession. That had been proven, Nimueh had released it, to serve her own purpose. And poor Merlin was trapped in the middle.

Balinor clenched his fists as he thought of his son. The poor child had been brought to him, having lost his mother in the most despicable of ways. Balinor had almost given up, wondering if running away from Uther had been the best thing. He remembered his arrival in Ealdor, a starving, ragged man, demanding to see Hunith. At the time he had been feverish, and exhausted, hardly having stopped as he fled to her.

Two days later he had woken, to find himself tucked up in a bed, in Hunith's cottage, while she gazed at him, a little baffled but sympathetic, as he recounted his words a little more coherently. He had stuck a bargain with the village elders, that if someone came looking for him, Balinor was to leave, without hesitation, and they would deny his existence.

But still, he had received a respite, even for a short while, and had come to love someone deeply. Balinor wondered if she had known that Merlin was growing in her belly when he had fled, on hearing that Uther's soldiers had penetrated the boarders. The villagers had done as they planned. They had removed all evidence of him. The carvings he had created for them had probably been burnt, and Hunith would have removed everything from the house.

What he would never know, was that nothing had been destroyed, just carefully hidden and what remained attributed to someone who had died a year before. They had not forgotten him, nor ever lost sight of the fact that Merlin was his son, and would become a Dragonlord. Despite their nerves over Merlin's talents, they never told any outsiders, they kept Merlin to themselves. Until the day the slavers had come and Ealdor had become no more.

Many might have blamed him. The village had been destroyed and the youngsters taken. Balinor could see it every time he looked at Merlin. He could see Hunith, and himself. Balinor blinked sadly, trying not to be sick as he considered the fact that he might never see his son again.

But his son would live. He would give his life for that, and there was one who would help, who could, if he was careful, do nothing but. Balinor put his head down and started to mumble, his voice rolling out of him. He could keep it low and if either Morgause or Morgana heard it, they couldn't stop him until it was too late.

Kilgharrah would care for and protect Merlin and keep him safe. Balinor would make sure of that.

The Great Dragon would have no choice, he would without fail protect the last of the Dragonlords.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"Wow," Arthur said, hefting his sword, tipping it to assess the balance. "I mean, wow."

The sword glittered in the growing light, shining with a brightness that could almost overwhelm.

"My sword was made for me, weighted for my arm but now it's perfect, it's brilliant."

"Be careful, my young prince," Kilgharrah said. He lowered his head and exhaled heavily onto Arthur, who jumped, finally breaking eye contact with the sword to look at the dragon.

"What you have been given is a weapon of immense power. It is not something that should be taken lightly, be careful as you wield it, for not only is it capable of what you ask, but it's power goes beyond that. Use it carefully, in the wrong hands, it can be a weapon of great evil."

"But my hands are fine," Arthur said, almost asking.

"It was forged for you, yes, and no other; but only you and the little warlock should ever use it. Once the sword has served it's purpose, then cast it aside, and use it no longer."

"Should I destroy it? I can melt it down."

"The sword will not allow that, it can never be destroyed, only contained. Keep it safe, and never use it except in the darkest of times. For then it will shine like a beacon, bringing honour in it's wake."

"How do I know when those times are?"

"You will have your guidance. When you have won your kingdom, entrust the weapon to the little warlock. You, Merlin, should place it somewhere so even Arthur may not take it, unless he truly needs it."

"Yes, I will," Merlin said. "Father will tell me. We can help father now, can't we?"

"Of course you can, but all balances will be restored, all debts paid. Fate and destiny have played this game too far. Once all is decided here, then the balance will be restored."

"What is that meant to mean?" Gwaine asked.

"Merlin is the only constant, he cannot be changed, others can. Balances have altered drastically, even those with destinies now do not always hold them. And two live beyond their fates, one is payment for a life taken, the other is forfeit. One or the other may take their place, but it may come to one of them to choose, so all of you need be wise. The path is not clear enough, but you may see it before you walk it."

Kilgharrah ducked his head down.

"I will see you again, little warlock."

With that the dragon took to the air, launching up and flying away. They watched him go, never faltering in his flight as he sped away from them.

"Why do I get the feeling he was glad to leave?" Gwaine asked.

"What did he mean by all that?" Percival asked.

"Nimueh said I would have father as long as I need him. I need father," Merlin said.

"He may not mean your father Merlin, many of us have been close to death before," Arthur said.

That made them look around. Cenred had almost died at Morgause's hand, Lancelot at the dragon's and Gwaine had been found by Merlin almost close to bleeding to death. Cyan trotted around, wagging his tail as he panted, eyes bright, looking at them all in turn. It did nothing to ease anyone's mind, least of all Merlin's.

"Will father be all right?" he asked in a worried tone. Arthur smiled, reaching up to put a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"Your father will grow old and die, as he should, and you'll become a Dragonlord, and I'll become king."

"You'll be a good king," Merlin said.

"You'll be a good Dragonlord."

"Good is… good."

"Yes it is Merlin. It's getting it right that's the problem."

"Is right not good?" Merlin asked. Arthur reached up again to ruffle Merlin's hair before clamping his hand on the back of Merlin's neck.

"People can think they are right, and be wrong; people can think they are good and be bad. I think the whole thing is such a muddle that it's hard to work out what to do sometimes."

"It's confusing," Merlin agreed with him.

"We'll think about it on the way. Let's get back and find the others. If we're lucky tomorrow we'll reclaim Camelot."