A/N: Oh wow! I am so sorry for the lengthy time it took me to update... Two weeks! That's a big record for me. I won't do it again (hopefully). I just had horrible writers block for writing from... someone's point of view. And then Merlin. I don't know if you guys picked up on it with the subtle way I didn't describe Merlin's torture but, I hate writing torture scenes... I like fight scenes, because they move but torture is so slow and deliberate... bubzchoc, thank you! High Serpent King, not very... lol. Hehehe, everyone's Kay hating... I like dark!Kay. It's leading up to something... :) A maze thing, damn. It was so close and almost the same. Kay is still good. He's just got a lesson to learn first. Maybe some good will come out of this. But then again, you're right. I am evil. BUT in saying that... The Good Guys Always Win in my stories... and I only like happy endings. And lol, yeah there is an ending. During my writers block I properly wrote out the timeline, so definitely an ending. WrittenInStone, Thank you very much! Thank you very much on the name claim. And I know! A lot more of the slash ones - quite a few of them - are better written and have more detailed plot-lines than the non-slash... It's frustrating for non-slashers. Please keep reading! I love return-readers and sorry for the long update. :) jayley, totally get it. It was just something I wanted to do. Not much more in the look of Merlin-whump to come... some Arthur later and then I'll get all my whumpness out. There is a touch of angst in here, but you'll want to read it to get on with the new arc and catch up on details you may have missed... this covers all the big stuff. P.S. Could have been badly written. I describe most of my work as 'badly written'. :) New arc-now! Bundibird, yay! They're safe. :) Sneaking suspicions are awesome... and I can't answer your question about Hunith because, well... Just read! No, I wasn't planning on putting them through more torture after that. I just wanted Arthur to break down nicely. (: I don't if it's possible to nicely break down, but you get me. I'm going to tell you (and whoever else reads this review)... Vivienne was banished for cheating on Goloris. That's what happened in that flashback. But Morgana was already born in the flashback. In fact, the way I worked out the ages, she would have been three... And Goloris never knew Morgana wasn't his daughter... Try understanding why I freaked at you saying 'two other men' now... But, psychic sounds good too. HEALING AHOY! mrlnfan, I'm assuming you typed off your iphone, because of the random question marks in your review where there are no questions. lol. Much appreciated! Oh, I will explain the Nimueh part in Letters. To much to explain here... But there is an explanation. Thank for the review and gladness. :) IndiaMoore, I thought I'd allude to it. :) Thanks for the review! TN Sarah, thank you! Hope you enjoy this chapter then. Distressed Clover, naww, thanks! Definitely not the last. He'll be okay. It won't be completely easy, but he'll get there. Thank you for the well wishes. 333 :)
There are small references in this to stuff that happens in Letters... I planned it ages ago (this story came first!) but if anyone gets confused, it's mostly the first chapter of Letters so go read that. :)
Disclaimer: If I owned Merlin Deagal wouldn't have died... I liked him too much.
Parents
The horses galloped through the gates of Camelot and moved straight from the lower town into the citadel, taking no break to stop. The horse, a borrowed steed, carried two passengers, one determined to get up to the castle as quick as possible and the other determined not to be left behind.
The older passenger dismounted first, her companion getting off from behind a moment later then attaching the horse to the closest stable as the first rushed up to the castle steps, ignoring the guards who tried to stop her.
The second followed soon behind, knowing the steps well enough and finally shooting through the wooden door that led to the physicians chambers. The old physician looked up, a little shocked but not completely surprised and his shoulders deflated when he saw her face.
"Where is my son?" Hunith demanded, Will peering around just behind her.
"Hunith." Gaius looked at his sister-in-laws blood niece and sighed. "Please. Sit down."
It took Arthur a week to recover from the dehydration and gain a descent amount of strength back, as well as his appetite that had been sorely lacking its normal gusto. But once Mary had found out, she laid out a full feast for him and Arthur just couldn't refuse it.
Merlin didn't eat, no matter what he claimed, and it was only Arthur glaring at him until he put some bread in his mouth that worked. He also, much to Gaius's quiet sadness, now slept in Arthur's antechamber, unable to stay in his own chambers from the cold and emptiness. He felt like he was drowning whenever he was there and Arthur couldn't help but be happy that Merlin wasn't too far, the feeling of his chambers at night reminding him a little too much of the ones in Druin.
It quickly became apparent that Gaius's potions worked on Merlin to encourage a dreamless sleep, but only at night and only for a short time. Merlin was immune to the potion and Gaius tried stronger doses, but even then, nothing could keep Merlin from the daydreams and it meant no one was really allowed to touch him freely with the exception of Arthur. He didn't mind so much when it was Gaius, Gwen or Morgana but he had to be willing or know they were coming. Leon and Kay kept their distance but were tolerated as company. Everyone else made Merlin particularly nervous. Arthur had been more closed lipped about his thoughts and feelings than usual and made it apparent to everyone that it hadn't effected it, even though he sniffed his drinks before they were handed to them and couldn't stand anything too sweet as it reminded him of the potions he took to relax him. He forced himself through all that pain and confusion because of his deep ingrained mind set that he had to be strong for his people.
While Arthur had been unable to stay inside for too long and threw himself back into training and anything else that let him be outside but within the citadel, Merlin stayed inside, hiding in the upper, brighter levels of the castle but mainly, in Arthur's chambers with the door locked from the inside and staring out the window. He occasionally chanced himself to get to Gaius's chambers, but he never stayed there too long, the windows providing light but too high for him to look out comfortably. Arthur had the keys to his own chambers and could go in and out freely when Merlin gritted his teeth and locked the doors, but every other guest, Merlin would either timidly allow in or ignore until they went away. Though no one was completely sure if he was ignoring them or couldn't hear them, lost in his own thoughts.
Sometimes Arthur would walk into his chambers and find Merlin staring out into nothing, his eyes filled with panic. Quite a few times he woke up, either out of his daydream or out of his nightmare with a yelp or shout. Once, he walked into find the room seemingly empty but he could hear sniffles echoing his chambers and found Merlin curled behind his changing screen, silently crying and consoling himself.
Arthur hadn't been able to get him to pull him out. Merlin had flinched every time he tried, though didn't shake him off. So instead he joined Merlin there and waited until Merlin turned his head and asked, "Are you hungry?" Arthur just nodded and Merlin got up and went to call for dinner, unable to go to the kitchens where the windows started becoming sparse and the light dwindled.
Normally he would be fired for such things, unable to perform his duties to full capacity and making a Prince a nursemaid, but Arthur, filled with guilt at being the cause of Merlin's pains, simply let him and ordered the other servants to comply. He couldn't exactly clean out the stables because the workload was too much for him and his recovering hip and leg, but Arthur had already guessed he wouldn't anyway as it meant actually leaving the castle to go outside.
In complete opposite, if Merlin hadn't been in his chambers, Arthur would have spent every second outside in the courtyard, sparring and beating out his aggression while working on getting his shoulder back to full working order. But he braved himself for the feeling of claustrophobia every time he stepped inside, and went and checked in on Merlin.
"You will need to find a new manservant." Uther told him one night, a month after his return at dinner.
Arthur thanked every deity known to him that Morgana hadn't been there. If Merlin had one saving grace, it would be Morgana. Since it was declared Morgana no longer needed a nurse following her around and Helen had been let go, Morgana had been able to decide what to do with her time. All of it consisted of helping Merlin and he didn't mind the company so much, with Gwen and Morgana often tailing him around his duties.
Though whenever it came to changing his bandages and Gaius would be too busy, he would throw Morgana out of the room and only let Gwen assist.
When she asked why once he frowned and just replied, "It's too much."
She hadn't understood and asked Arthur about it and he just grunted, "Just let him go, Morgana." He argued that it was just a new weird Merlin-trait, but secretly he had understood. It was too much for Morgana. Gwen had seen a bit more, living in the lower town amongst the people and could understand a bit better. Morgana was quite sheltered and somewhat naïve about it all.
But still, she helped Merlin a lot though she did often report back to Arthur when Merlin was, in her words, 'empty' and 'not there' and he would trudge along and knock their elbows together until Merlin sat up and paid attention.
"I understand your troubles over the boy and I am more than happy to set him up his own chambers considering what he has been through and your obvious care for him, but this cannot go on. He haunts the castle like a ghost!"
It wasn't a bad description of the situation. The more time went on, the more Merlin had turned into a ghost. His lucid moments were far and few when Arthur wasn't there, but according to Gaius, it was to be expected. It was a miracle he managed to keep on going with menial tasks like polishing armour and tidying Arthur's chambers, but the work distracted him and Merlin liked to think it was his excuse for not going outside, the fact he had so much work inside.
Arthur humoured him, giving him large loads of washing to do, even if the shirts weren't dirty, and tasks that would occupy his time indoors. But soon he realised that what he was doing wasn't helping Merlin but hindering his recovery more.
"And it is completely inappropriate the way you fawn over the boy. Yes he was injured, yes you went through an ordeal, but you are the prince of a kingdom and you cannot hold one child to a higher importance than all your people."
Arthur took slight offends to that. He hadn't been shirking his duties. In fact, he was doing them double-time.
No he hadn't been on any patrols or hunts, but his shoulder was still bound and he didn't know how he felt about that to begin with, the entire ordeal starting with a hunt. Truth be told, while he did leave the castle, he hadn't been outside the citadel and didn't even dare go through the town. He shuddered at the thought, but kept that piece of information to himself.
But he attend all council meetings, insisted on tighter securities and encouraged his father that a peace treaty was a diplomatically better than outright war with Odin, though Arthur would be more than happy to see the old kings blood flow every time he saw Merlin. He, in fact, was more aware of the army's disposition in regards to following on war in Odin's kingdom. Whilst they were more than keen to exact revenge for their Prince, many were still wary about the ongoing attacks with Caerleon and Mercia, some with family in the effected villages.
More to the original point, Arthur didn't think he fawned over Merlin. Yes, he indulged many of his new habits, allowing him to lock the doors, free access to his chambers and even told the servants whatever he asked for he should receive - though they didn't need much convincing and Merlin never actually asked them for anything apart from things he couldn't gather from the kitchen or lower town for Arthur - but he couldn't help it! Merlin suffered for Arthur and nothing he could do would ever make that right.
The other thing was, Merlin was doing all his duties better than he had ever before. Not that Arthur actually thought that was a good thing – though had you asked him two months previous, he would have thought it was a miracle. He sometimes wanted to receive his armour scuffed, though he was pretty sure he was never going to see a rub or scratch on it again.
"I understand your concerns father, but I need to handle this myself." Arthur said to his father, politely putting his napkin on the table. "I don't want another manservant. Quite frankly I don't need one. I want Merlin."
Uther narrowed his eyes. "Then you give me no choice. He will–"
"Please father." Arthur interrupted desperately. He closed his eyes and rubbed them with the heel of his palms tiredly. "Please. I do not ask much of you. I do not ask for anything, really. Just allow me this one thing. Don't hurt him more. I know it's his duty as a citizen of Camelot to defend his prince, but he went above and beyond and… and I heard it all."
He looked up from his position, elbows on the table, and stared at Uther who was staring in shock. Arthur had told Uther about his capture and his escape, but not the journey or the imprisonment, nor the trail home. In fact, he had spoken about very little of it with anyone, just keeping to the minor details that he had been kept well fed and clothed but he'd escaped. "Just... Leave Merlin to me. He's my responsibility. I did this to him." With that, he dismissed himself, leaving his quietly shaken father behind and made it back up to his chambers, which were locked and this meant Morgana and Gwen weren't there either.
He withdrew the key and let himself in, slowly as to not scare his roommate of sorts. He found out, one afternoon, if he slammed the door open Merlin would shout and his breath would catch. Another time, he'd entered too quickly and Merlin had jumped so high, Arthur had almost laughed, until the absent look reappeared.
Candles and the fireplace washed the room in gold and Merlin held his feet and stared into the flames, watching them dance. He was too close for Arthur's liking, little angry sparks from the crackles flying loose and landing on the ground around Merlin.
There had been many times Arthur had come back into his room only to find Merlin with small burns on his clothes from sitting to close to the fire and not noticing, seeking out its light and warmth.
Slowly, Arthur closed the door behind him and went to his closet to get a shirt to change, still keeping an eye on him. It did him no good to barge over and drag him away. He'd most likely have a fit.
On his behalf, Merlin ignored him like he didn't know Arthur was there. Maybe he truly didn't. He obviously wasn't himself, his mind somewhere else. Arthur had those moments too. Where he would wake up and wonder where he was.
But Arthur attacked things. Arthur trained. Arthur fought.
Merlin had no fight in him, it appeared, or he just dealt in a manner Arthur couldn't understand.
"Merlin?" he called out, his nightshirt on. "Move back from the fire." Merlin looked up and sighed, shuffling back obediently then staring back at the flames. Arthur caught sight of a plate of food on the table and raised his eyebrow. "Did you eat?"
Merlin looked up and raised his eyebrow back at him, mirroring his actions a little mockingly. "No. Did you?"
Arthur picked up the full tray and walked over and sat next to Merlin beside the fire. Merlin sighed and stared back at the flames. He picked up one of the rolls and held it out. "Here." he said quietly. "Eat it."
Merlin reluctantly took the piece of bread and snapped it in half, shoving it into his mouth then giving a look to Arthur that asked if he was happy. Arthur just smiled back smugly.
It was a ghost of their usual banter but it was better than nothing. It wasn't like they could pretend they hadn't changed, but it was a relief to know some of them were still there, at least when they were around each other.
When another flicker of a flame got to close to Merlin for Arthur's liking, the Prince dragged him back by the shoulders and Merlin simply let him, sort of used to Arthur manhandling him and not minding it so much when it came from the Prince. "Eat." Arthur instructed again in regards to the rest of the bread.
The younger boy said nothing at Arthur moving him or ordering him but did bite off another chunk. They sat that way quietly and Merlin finished the bread and had some of the meat. He swallowed the last piece of it, then said, "I know I'm different. I know I'm scared of going anywhere below the front entrance level of the castle. I know your father really hates me right now–"
"He doesn't hate you." Arthur defended his father.
Merlin snorted. "Cedric came to talk to me about how the way I was acting was completely inappropriate to my station. That's the only part of the lecture I heard because I… blanked out." Arthur clenched his fists and wondered if his father had ordered Cedric to do such a thing before or after he decided to confront Arthur at dinner.
Merlin had stopped speaking and stared into the fire. Arthur waved his hand in front of Merlin's face, but instead of pulling him out of the confusion, it made his face crumple up and look at Arthur as though he was crazy. "I'm here, I've just got nothing more to say."
Arthur couldn't help but snort at the indignant tone then sobered his expression. He took the bread and broken more off, forcing it into Merlin's hand to eat again. "Can't tell the difference, honestly." He couldn't help but smile at the offended expression that now lit Merlin's face. It was so normal it pained him that it rarely appeared anymore.
Merlin smiled back then his lips faltered. "Arthur, I... I don't remember anything after you left the tavern. I was awake but I... I wasn't. I wasn't in the room, but I never left and then Kay and Leon was there and then you were waking me up in Camelot." His face crumpled. "You said don't leave so I didn't but... I think I did. I think I always leave. Since we escaped, I've been in two places at once. Two realities. Sometimes I think I'm not here." he whispered, fear evident on his face.
Arthur held his hand out palm facing up and Merlin reluctantly put his hand over it. "You're here, Merlin. Really." He gave a small squeeze to prove it but Merlin scoffed.
He swallowed thickly and shook his head. "That's what they say too. And what they do feels just as real."
Arthur frowned. "Who?"
He shook his head and looked back at the fire. "I don't know if I'm here and everything's fine or if I'm in the dungeons and I'm dying and the guards are... It all feels real. Both worlds." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Which one is real?"
"It's this one." Arthur said sincerely. "You've got to believe me it's this one."
"But what if it's not?" Merlin questioned, distrust flashing in his eyes. "What if you're telling me this because it's what I want to hear and then I fall asleep or drift off and I'm there again? Every time I think I'm safe something happens and I'm back there and…" he sighed and looked back to the fire. "I hate this." he muttered, gritting his teeth together. "I know what's real, I know what's not but I don't…" he glared at his hands and then lost all his anger and heat and became limp. "I don't know how to keep going and it's just an endless circle."
There was a moment where Arthur was about to agree, but he stopped himself. He bit his lip then said, "Maybe… maybe you should come outside."
Merlin's head snapped up at the suggestion and his eyes grew wild. "Outside?"
"Yes. Not for long. Just go for a walk. Your leg is getting stiff against. It needs to be moved, doesn't it?"
"I walk around the castle." Merlin pointed out.
"You walk around the corridors."
"I watch you train sometimes." he confessed. "From the window on the west side."
Arthur's brow furrowed. "I know. I've seen you, but… you won't be going out of the citadel. Ask Morgana to take you for a walk around the royal gardens. I'm pretty sure you've never been there before." Merlin shook his head. "Well, go. Maybe seeing something new will remind you, you're here and not in there." He rapped Merlin's head with fist lightly but the boy was just staring at him in shock.
There was a knock on the door and both boys looked up, a little stunned. Merlin stood and approached a wall to stand beside and Arthur sighed, watching him fall into his normal servant role. It was something he was insisting on, though Arthur couldn't care less, roles oddly reversed.
"Come in." he called out.
It was all for naught as Leon stuck his head in the door and glanced around. "Sire, Merlin." He greeted both of them.
Arthur nodded once, "What is it? If it's my father the tell I'll see him in the morning."
"Actually, it's not your father." Leon turned to Merlin. "It's your mother, Merlin."
It had been exactly a month since the famed Balinor, ex-Lord of Ambrosius, had met his son.
His son. He had a son.
At least he thought he had a son.
Hood over his head, Balinor got through the streets of Camelot relatively easy. After the Prince of Camelot and his friend – his son – left his company, Balinor set about for the rest of the day blindly removing the bodies of Odin's men from his sight, burning them in a pyre to dispose of the bodies.
Then he tracked the Prince of Camelot and the boy named Merlin – the name that the Prince had murmured to the young man when he was convinced Balinor wasn't listening, only Balinor had grown up in a castle and was quite versed in the art of paying attention to hushed conversation so he could have gossip to exchange for food with the kitchen staff – to Engerd, the town he often sifted through for supplies.
He had arrived in time to see the Prince leaving, alone. There had been parts of the conversation he had heard from the previous night about leaving Merlin alone for a night. Balinor had considered going up there and talking to him, but the thought of the small neck gripped beneath his hand stopped him in his tracks and he stayed at the tavern, drinking and waiting and watching because he had seen how the Prince had acted around his serving boy and he knew there was no conceivable way he would leave Merlin behind forever.
It was only the next night when Balinor found what he was waiting for in the form of two knights, both of whom were painstakingly familiar.
His eyes looked up and down his nephew first, who was talking to the barkeep. Balinor hadn't seen Kay since he was five years old, but he looked so much like Ector, his eyes and the way his hair curled in the same manner, that it made his heartache.
He saw his nephew's eyes dart to the stairs and he ran up, followed a moment later by yet another knight, a curly haired one who Balinor knew was Lewis' son. They still have each other, he thought nostalgically and then watched as they went upstairs to find Merlin.
Balinor waited for a long while then watched as Lewis' son came back down and requested food. He waited for it to be prepared and scanned the tavern in the meantime. Over the distance, their eyes met and the young man stared at Balinor with a small frown. Balinor matched his stare but a second later, the food was handed over to the young knight and he went off with it.
Not too long after, Kay came back down and stormed out of the tavern. Balinor considered going after him, talking to him, asking him about Merlin, but then he stopped himself. Kay hadn't seen him for so many years and, looking down on himself, he wasn't in the best shape, his clothes shabby and not having bathed properly in a few months. Suddenly, Balinor felt himself wrapped up in shame.
He was an ex-Lord, the last Dragonlord and living in a cave, nothing more than an angry shadow of the man he used to be. He had no pride, no self-respect and he definitely could not be a father to a young boy.
Hunith… What if the boy wasn't even his son? What if she had moved on and he was just guessing? What if she'd given the boy the dagger just as a measure, unable to keep it from the horrible memories it brought, or just not caring and handing off his totem of becoming a Dragonlord frivolously?
No, she wouldn't… But if she was taken unwillingly… The thought pained him that maybe Hunith would give his heirloom because she wanted him to be the father.
It wasn't like he'd given her anyway of contacting him or even any indication of his return. He'd heard the knights of Camelot were coming and bolted. Yes, he was friends with a vast majority of them but he already knew Arnold had been in the party of men coming for him. Lewis, his good friend had warned him as much.
With a sigh, he sat back on his chair and stared glumly at the door, waiting for Kay to return, fingering the lip of his mug shamefully at the fact he couldn't go up and comfort his own nephew, who was no doubt still aching from the loss of his father. He couldn't even go be a damn father to the boy who was possibly his son and horrifyingly injured, the last time he saw him.
When the boys departed in the morning, Balinor had intended to follow but then realised they were going to Camelot and, while he had risked going to Ector's funeral, to find Merlin he would most likely have to get inside the castle, especially if he worked for the Prince.
My son, a mere servant. He blinked and then looked down at himself and his ragged tatters and snarled.
He stayed a few nights at the tavern, waiting and watching for Odin's men or anyone who would come looking for the boy and the prince. He wanted to head them off and snap the rest of their necks in revenge and, by the sixth night was praying they did come. After a week, there was no one and he heard word through the villagers that Prince Arthur was once again at his fathers side and took it to mean that Merlin was there too.
He had meant to go back to his cave. To think and to ponder over what the Prince-boy had suggested. That he was a father. That his Dragonlord dagger had been passed on willingly from his love as an heirloom. But unconsciously, he started walking in the direction Ealdor, and when the night fell he simply set up camp even though he had nothing more than a sword and a small bag of coins.
That night, Balinor didn't sleep, simply staring at the flames all night and unconsciously fiddling with a large branch he'd found and carving into it until dawn when he found a small wooden totem of a falcon. After inspecting it, it wasn't just any falcon, but an image of the old merlin falcon he owned. Hermes, the name he had given the winged creature, had long ago passed but it had been the only way he could talk to Hunith for many years when she lived in Ealdor and he in Camelot.
"Merlin." he murmured, twisting the bird around in his fingers.
He pocketed the carving and kept walking, arriving in Ealdor just after lunch. He walked around the edges of the village and sat there, watching the village from a safe distance. He kept his hood over his head as he sat and watched, eyes firmly planted on a hut he had long ago tried to forget, to no avail.
For a few days he sat there and watched and, intrigued, he saw a young boy with Hunith on most days. He couldn't have been much older than fourteen and he frowned, trying to figure out the relation between the two.
Hunith treated the boy like a son and he treated her like a mother in return. But at night he would go into the hut next door where he seemingly lived alone. If he remembered correctly from his time in Ealdor, a retired knight by the name of William had lived there with his wife – a woman he couldn't quite recall. He remembered Sir William to be a kind man but he had no children.
It all confused him.
Another week of camping around the village, led him inside.
He couldn't understand why, but he pushed forward and found himself with his hood deep over his head, at the door of Hunith's hut. He hesitated, unwilling to knock and make his presence known once more. Unwilling to bring danger and confusion to his childhood love once again. He gritted his teeth though, and raised his fist to the wood and lightly rapped it twice, needing to know the answers to his question.
"And you are?" he spun his head around and saw the young boy who often rushed off on errands for Hunith standing behind him.
His brow furrowed and he stared at the boy. "Me, boy. Who are you?"
"I asked you first."
"And I am your elder. You should show me some respect by answering my question." Balinor said sternly.
"And you should show me some respect by not thinking me a mere farmers son." The boy drew his shoulders back and grinned. "Trust me mate, you ain't going to win with me. Now tell me what's your name and your business at that door there or I can show you to Emun. I hate the git, but he does seem to have a way with strangers."
Balinor remembered Emun with a distinct dislike and growled. He turned to the door then back at the young boy. "Where is Hunith?"
"Your chances are up, my friend. Emun it is." Before Balinor could argue, the boy was bolting off in the other direction to one of the larger houses in the small village.
Balinor swore under his breath and disappeared from Ealdor without another word.
He had gone back all the way to the lip of his cave, muttering about how much he hated everything and everyone underneath his breath, until he kicked his foot against and rock and turned back towards Ealdor. Then he turned back to his cave, remembering something, and headed inside.
Carefully, he emptied all his treasured possessions. A gold fibulae that was his mothers in the shape of a rose, his fathers sword, a ring from his brother and the complete collection of letters he had from Hunith. They were all he could afford to carry with him and these items were precious to him and now he added the carved merlin bird to his collection that he could not seem to lose. Every time he considered discarding it, it reappeared in his hand and he simply stared at it with affection.
At first, his intentions were to go back to Ealdor, confront Hunith and demand to know why she hadn't tried to find him to tell him of his son. But then, unwillingly like before, his feet found themselves moving quietly towards Camelot.
A few days later, he found himself stalking the streets, quietly avoiding anyone who may have recognised him, and taking up residence at a dingy tavern near the very edges of the citadel, The Horse's Mouth. He knew that, back in days gone by, Ector and Lewis had secured vast range of alcohol from the place and now, he was going to use the comforts of such fancies from Market City – a trading city on the borders of the east of Albion that mostly dealt in Persian, Ottoman and Italian trades – to Ierne – the land beside Albion.
During the day he snuck around with his hood drawn over his face and used the old battlement secret stairs that, clearly, the guards knew nothing of, to get up to the top of the wall to spy on the courtyard. There he watched the training and watched the young Prince recover his shoulder slowly but surely. He remembered spotting the way Merlin had been limping around and wondered what they were doing for his injuries, if anything at all.
He had been in Camelot for four days and he had yet to spot Merlin at all and this made him nervous. What if he didn't survive his wounds? What if something I did turned him feral? He was already so close… Balinor found himself worrying about being a good father, being a good influence and mostly, what had happened to the boy who he still couldn't confirm was his son with anymore than a hunch and the word of his distant nephew.
It was the late afternoon and Balinor was beginning to lose track of the days and watched as Arthur sparred with Leon and another knight in the evening light. He was sweating and panting but wore a grin on his face as the physical exertion spent him and possibly made him feel. Balinor had understood that at one point in his life. When he was young and arrogant.
He is a child, he thought to himself and, upon looking down at the Prince he knew it was true.
Despite his broad shoulders and strong looking jaw, the prince did look his age of seventeen and, in some lights, younger, especially when he winced in pain from being hit or when his shoulder jarred up. Balinor found himself comparing Arthur to his parents and it was strange the mix he saw.
He was stubborn and forceful like Uther, the way he fought reflecting the way his father had once done. When he and an opponent were locked in swords, Arthur would always force his opponents hand upwards and Balinor couldn't help but smirk. It was something Uther had down in the past and was often scolded for by Sayard, Balinor's father. Out of curiosity, whenever Arthur forced the swords up, he glanced to Kay who rolled his eyes. "Bat the sword to the side, boy." Balinor found himself murmuring after two weeks, unable to stop himself as he watched Arthur train. If he swung the sword out, rather than up or down, it would swing the arm away with enough force to make a killing strike, whereas the other two ways gave his opponent momentum to swing back.
The rest, Balinor noted, was all Ygraine. When he knocked one of his men down, he smiled widely the way she used to and helped lift them up from the ground. His eyes were the same blue, the same cerulean that melted hearts and mended them. A few of the servants and children from the lower town came up to watch the fights and Arthur greeted them all and chuckled as a small girl slammed into his legs and gave him yellow daisies. He ruffled her hair and smiled. Looking at Arthur, he couldn't help but be reminded of the young girl who had defended him from the more rougher games his older brother and their friends played and who tutted her tongue and scolded him for not eating his greens and with that last memory, he was smiling.
Balinor couldn't remember the last time he had truly smiled and wiped it off his face and turned it into a scowl when he realised Uther's son had made him smile. Uther, who would see him dead rather than own up to his wrongdoings and the man who broke his strange menagerie family of knights, Dragonlords, ex-slaves and peasants, a druid and a court physician, apart. He spun on his heel and stormed back to The Horses Mouth, not noticing the galloping horses that made their way up to Gaius's chambers carrying his one true love.
When Merlin had first heard of his mother in the castle, he blacked out of Camelot and found himself sitting in an unlit dungeon and in so much pain that his insides were aching. He curled over himself and looked around but, as usual, saw nothing. He felt around and the stone was damp, gritty and rubbed dirt in between the ridges of his skin.
He blinked when he heard a snap to his left and turned his head to look at Arthur, clicking his fingers. "I'm fine." Merlin assured him, shaking his head. "I… I haven't written in more than two months now. She must have worried."
Arthur nodded but didn't look like he was worried much about Hunith's arrival but more about Merlin's reaction. "Should we go see her now?" Arthur asked.
Merlin noticed the slight possessive tone in his voice and heard the distinct 'we' and the younger didn't know if Arthur was coming for him or for himself, but either way he appreciated it. "I… I don't know." And truly, he didn't. He didn't know what to do. What his mother would ask him. What to tell her if she did.
Alarming, the world started becoming to large around him and he felt he should curl up and let it become smaller. Which is strange, he thought. Merlin would have thought that he would want to be in wide-open spaces after what he went through. He'd spent an afternoon polishing Arthur's armour and thinking about it in great detail but he finally came to the conclusion that he was afraid of the openness. Afraid of what could come and get him.
It annoyed him greatly that when Arthur offered for him to walk around the royal gardens, a privileged opportunity, but he couldn't even bring himself to do that. It frustrated him and made him angrier than he already was but now… What if she wants to take me back to Ealdor? His heart thudded, seeing nothing but darkness and feeling the sharp strike across his cheek that Emun had left him with and Roland repeated.
At the thought of Roland, his hand went to his lower stomach where the name had faded from a thick scar into small brownish ridges. He hadn't even noticed when it happened, or at least hadn't noticed what was being written on him. He had definitely noticed the knife carving into his flesh. His hand moved to his dagger and he remembered, sickly, that Roland had bragged it was carved with his own blade.
"Merlin?" he looked up and saw Leon and Arthur staring at him with probing, nervous stares, like he was going to bolt. He huffed. He wished they would stop that.
"Um, yes. I should go see her. I'm sure she's worried." he frowned and started walking forward but didn't pay attention and stubbed his toe on the chair. He hissed and jumped up and started falling back when Arthur caught him by the scruff of his neckerchief and yanked him back up. For a moment, the briefest of seconds, he choked.
And then he wasn't there anymore.
Rather, two thick hands were wrapped around his neck, squeezing the air out of him whilst another roughly tugged at his already aching leg by the cuff of his ankle. Merlin wheezed, his lungs on fire and he tried to escape, kicking out his feet. He couldn't tell if his vision was darkening or not, but for the life of him he could feel unconsciousness seeping inside his skull in a dull ache. "Such a youngin' too. Shame we ain't gonna keep ya for much–"
"Merlin." he snapped his head up and saw Arthur leaning in front of him, one hand on his neck the other on his shoulder. "Are you with me?"
Merlin nodded stiffly then rubbed his throat, taking a deep breath. "Yes. Let's go."
Leon escorted them through out the castle, which made Merlin even more nervous. It was already nighttime and some halls were unlit with torches, or had them too far and in between. He had no desire to go down those halls. Even though he could see the sky, the darkness still intimidated him and he hated being out in it and with Leon around, on guard, it made it feel as though Danger was going to grab them up in her claws and tear them apart.
He didn't realise his hand had slipped around Arthur's wrist as they walked until they'd reached the front door of Gaius's chambers and Arthur slid his hand into his and squeezed it lightly before letting go completely. His hand felt cold and nerves crept up inside of him and he wanted to turn back and hide in his small antechamber, barely twice the side of the width of his bed and only a little bit longer. In all honesty, he didn't mind the cramped feeling, if only because the window took up the entire width of the wall.
The only thing that stopped him going back was the fact it was dark and he had a feeling, if he ran, Arthur probably wouldn't let him hold onto his wrist while he bolted.
The Prince knocked the door and then headed inside when they heard Gaius. Arthur went in first and Merlin then obliged Leon to go in ahead of him, both their build and bulk hiding Merlin's slender frame from sight for a moment as he stood in the hall.
There was a sound to the right of him and he turned his head, looking down the hall until he saw a door opening, brushing against the floor as it did so. The sound of the wood grazing against the tile wasn't the same as the iron grating against the stone but he still trembled and his breath hitched for a moment as an image of light breaking through darkness slid into his memories and the shadows of faces he could barely make out stepping through before the door closed once more.
The ghost of a finger trailed down the side of his face, going to his neck to caress it as one of the men – the one who couldn't say his t's whose name he never learnt - hissed into his ear exactly what would be happening to him. "Just remember, little manservant. It's all for your master." Some mornings that had been enough for Merlin to take the beatings and the tortures and the men. Some days all he needed to know was he was doing it in place of Arthur. That Arthur wouldn't feel the pain.
Other mornings, it wasn't enough and a tiny horrible part of him that he wanted to destroy and burn just wished – only a little – that Arthur was in his place. He couldn't decide what actually felt worse, but by far it was the torture.
Especially when it came to Roland.
"Merlin?" he looked up and saw his mother, her eyes watering as she stared at him. His gaze flickered to Gaius then back to his mother and then to the cups of tea. He saw Will, sitting with his face filled with shock, anger and loathing towards Arthur and then back to the tea and his mentor.
"He told you then." he said simply. Before he could gasp, Hunith had her arms around him, engulfing her in a hug and squeezing him.
It was the first time he'd seen his mother, held his mother, since that fateful day in Ealdor two years ago and before Odin, it was the thing he craved for more than anything. They wrote to each other weekly, but it wasn't the same. But now the arms felt cold and empty. He clung onto his mother, knowing it was something he should be doing but he was trying to search for the comfort she would normally give him, but couldn't find it.
It wasn't that he didn't love her. No, far from it. He loved her so much that it was paining him to burden her with such a thing and he didn't want her to feel so horrible. "My son." she gasped, stroking his hair and pulling back slightly. "Merlin, I am so sorry. If I had known I'd never have sent you here. Oh Merlin, forgive me please?" she started to cry and held onto him again and his arms warmed slightly, only because he realised he was comforting her.
"Mother, there is nothing to forgive." he reassured her and held her back, just as tight. "Really." He looked over her shoulder and his eyes met Will and, for a moment, he took him in.
Will had grown, but not by much. Instead of them matching each other in height, Will was a head shorter than him at the least. His hair had grown out a little, becoming scruffy and tied just to the nape of his neck and the shadow of light hairs coloured his upper lip. "How you going clack-dish?"
"I thought that was one of mine." Merlin chuckled.
"I can't call you a piss-pot in front of your mother. She'll get the wrong idea."
Hunith turned over her shoulder and glared at Will who instantly backed off. "William, I will not hear such language from you."
"Sorry Hunith." he said lightly, tipping his head in shame and Merlin noted, with a bit of jealousy, how easily his mother scolded Will like a son yet he felt cold in his own mothers arms.
He turned to look for Arthur, suddenly needing him to reassure him with a smile or a nod that he was doing the right thing when he couldn't see the Prince. He turned his head again and Arthur had walked around the room unnoticed and stood against the wall in the corner with Leon beside him. "What happened?" Hunith demanded. "Tell me. Oh my boy." she cupped his cheeks in her hand and squeezed before leading him to sit on one of the benches. "What happened? Gaius merely said you were kidnapped but…" she trailed off and traced over his forehead where a faint scar would probably stay forever.
Merlin looked to the bench and stared at the wood. He opened his mouth to speak when, for the second time in one night his confession was cut off by an alarmed knock at the door. It flung open before anyone could call for them to enter and a guard stumbled in, panting. "Sire, you're here." he gasped, turning to Arthur, and Merlin exhaled at the same time.
For the first time, Hunith noticed the Prince's presence properly, turning her eyes up to him and a slight frown gracing her features of confusion. "What is it, Errol?" Arthur asked, recognising the guard from one of his father's personal contingent.
"Sire, there's been an attack… a patrol. Your father wishes to see you this instant. Sir Leon too."
Arthur stood and looked to Leon who nodded and went to follow. Just as they reached the door, Merlin stood too. He didn't even look back as he started to follow Arthur out but his mother called out. "Merlin. Where are you going?"
He stopped and turned to stare at her, a little confused as what was happening with his mind. "I… Arthur might need me."
"For an attack on a patrol?" she said seriously.
He turned his head over his shoulder to see that Arthur and Leon had already left then back at his mother. "It's complicated." he sighed. "I will return. Just… I need to go." The thought of how far ahead Arthur might be from him and how many dark halls he'd have to cross by himself and before anyone could stop him, he bolted.
He got three steps down the hall however when he found Arthur, Leon and even the guard Errol had already turned the corner and were out of his sights. For a moment, Merlin froze. He knew where to go, but to go alone and in the dark. The thought flittered around his head, taunting him and making him seize up.
"Can I tag along?" He turned to see Will standing behind him, hands shoved in his pockets. "I'll wait outside the hall and everything, but… just for the walk. I never really got to see much of the palace last time." He shrugged but Merlin knew that Will just didn't want to leave him.
Once again, he found his body doing things without his own knowledge, and his hand wrapped around Will's like they had when they were children, searching through the forest for wild berries and other edibles. Will was momentarily surprised but then squeezed Merlin's hand back and tugged him forward until the two boys were hugging. Merlin gripped Will firmly with one arm around his waist and the other around his shoulder, and Will held him back in an opposite fashion. "Lords I've missed you." Will laughed.
Merlin did too but couldn't voice it. He held Will tighter in return and rested his forehead on his shoulder like he would when they were kids. "Are you still going to go after the Prince of Prats?"
Merlin chuckled. "He's not that bad." he defended, tugging back just enough to see Will. "And we better move."
Like Arthur, Will let Merlin hold his wrist as he quickly navigated the route Arthur would have taken to the main chambers and caught up to him. Arthur shot him a look of confusion s he approached and added a glare to Will for good measure. "What are you two doing?" he demanded.
"I'm coming with you. Will's here for the journey."
"I'll stay outside." Will added. "No doubt the King would be thrilled to see the great duo of Merlin and Will again, but let's leave that for a bigger audience shall we?"
"You're not going to get me thrown into the stocks again. It's been three months since my last visit and I want to hold that streak." Merlin grinned and Arthur was taken aback. It felt like lifetimes since he'd seen Merlin beam like that and when Merlin caught Arthur's stunned face, he turned bright pink. Arthur was quite certain he'd never throw Merlin in the stocks again if it meant he'd keep smiling like that, relief sweeping over him at the sight.
They continued on their way through the dark halls, Merlin's hand around Will's arm and tightening whenever a shadow danced too high or far. The satisfaction of smiling had set something off inside of him and, as well as breaking a new record for the stocks, Merlin was breaking new grounds of how long he'd gone without a single hallucination.
Although, upon reaching the Great Hall, Merlin started to question his judgement in coming at all. Will waited outside and Merlin went inside with Arthur, as he usually did in such situations. Though it had been such a long time, he wasn't certain of what to do anymore and the glare Uther offered him upon his entrance was enough to send Merlin reeling to a standstill. Arthur shot him a look to wait by the door and Merlin had never been more thankful, concentrating on a flickering candle and the voices to get him by.
"Sire." Arthur said curtly, nodding his head to the king. Beside Uther stood Sir Arnold, dressed as though he had not yet even been to his chambers. "There was an attack?"
"A raid." Uther asserted. "On the ruins of the village of Darreth."
Arthur frowned. "A ruined village?"
"It was destroyed by dragons years ago. The fire made the land fertile. It is simply farmland now, containing crops that feed the neighbouring village and good part of Camelot. It's under guard from the locals, however knights don't go there often."
"Why not?" Arthur asked. "If it contains most of the crops…"
"It's on the lands of Ambrosius." Uther said stiffly. "The patrols coming from the other Lords are organised on their own lands. Camelot shares its own guards with that part of the land."
Arthur understood. There were four Lords of Camelot, divinding the land into five parts including the citadel. Lord Gerome Cadeyrn had inherited the title in a War Game, Lord Hagen and owned most of the north-east, residing in a small manor and running a village beside the Vale of Denaria. He was a cruel lord, but even Arthur had to admit his tactics in holding off all the trouble from Mercia and parts of Essetir worked well.
Lord Adelias de Barbes was a pure blood, descending from the original Lord de Barbes that had founded Camelot along with Ambrosius, Hagen, Ashdown and Pendragon and had the south-east, guarding the valley between Odin's land and Essetir that eventually led out to Alined and Olaf's territories. Arthur didn't mind him so much, the man a decade older than him and often quite kind but ruthless in politics.
The third Lord was Lord Ashdown, an older gentlemen whose name was Harold No Name, before he married the previous Lord Ashdown's daughter and took over the lands of the North-West. He kept Caerleon's men busy enough and had actually increased Camelot's borders and coffers as the villages in the area enjoyed knowing their Lord had once been apart of the people. Since the loss of Lord Ambroisus, he had taken over the duties of a lot of the Western Isle too, though usually stood away from them because of the curse.
The curse was the reason why the title Lord Ambrosius belonged to no one. During the time when Camelot was first taken over, so the King would never grow too greedy and forget that he is indebted to those who made him who he was, he signed a magical contract to ensure that only his chosen Lords could choose who inherited their lands and titles. As the last Lord Ambrosius was banished before he had a chance to pass on his title, the lands of Ambrosius that lied to the south-west curse those who try and tame it with bad luck.
As far as Arthur knew, he was the only one who knew Balinor was alive. His eyes gazed over Arnold who was eying Merlin suspiciously.
He didn't glance at Merlin, instead keeping his eyes firmly on his father, refusing to acknowledge the young boy who should have been Lord Ambrosius if his father hadn't also been a Dragonlord. "So this farm in Darreth has been attacked." Arthur supplied. "And you wish me to go investigate?"
"The patrol we sent were attacked, all dead. If you are up to it, I want your men to go and come back with" Uther warned him. "I know this last month you have still been recovering. Gaius has told me your shoulder is progressing, but if you cannot…"
"No." Arthur didn't want to shun his duties. He didn't want the nerves that were already building in his stomach at the nightmarish thought of leaving the citadel. "I'm fine, father. I've already started restoring the muscles and, at the best, it is not my sword arm."
"If you are sure." Uther said steadily. "I want you and your men to leave at dawn. Find what happened."
"Who sent word of the patrol's demise?" Arthur asked quickly.
Uther frowned a little then nodded to the shadows. Arthur and Merlin both turned, surprised when a boy, a little older than Merlin, but younger than Arthur stepped forward from the shadows. Arthur hadn't noticed him and Merlin definitely hadn't as he spent most of his time looking away from the shadows. The boy's hair was long and made from unruly locks of brunette, tied with a string to the nape of his neck. His eyes, large and brown were slightly fearful as he stared at the prince and king, but not out of worry but awe of the power they held between them. "This young man. He has also offered to be a guide as he lived in the village next to Darreth."
Arthur frowned and stared at the boy. "Which village is that?"
"Gormon, sire." he replied, bowing as he spoke, a little unsure of himself. "I know most of the surrounding areas and… and I was apart of the patrol to guard the fields. I only just managed to escape with one of your guards."
"He saved Sir Wallace's life." Arnold spoke up, a touch of admiration in his eyes. Arthur thought that was curious as, usually, Arnold showed respect to no one. "And mine." There it is, the prince thought.
"We will leave at first light." Arthur said. "Merlin…" he started but then immediately regretted it. He looked up to see his father glaring at him and wisps of their earlier conversation came back to him. I cannot show favour to him right now, he growled under his breath then kept on going with his normal orders. "Have my horse prepared and ready to leave." Merlin looked frazzled, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself. "After you prepare me for bed, of course." he added and Merlin got the message. We'll talk first.
They were dismissed from the King's presence and the boy from the village followed them out under orders to tell Arthur all he knew. Will was just outside and shot quizzical looks but Merlin simply gripped onto his wrist and sagged into him a little. Leon and Arthur, the only other two with them, looked mildly concerned but Arthur had to turn his attentions to the new man with them. "I apologise. I don't think my father told me your name."
"He didn't." the boy replied. "I'm Lancelot." He looked to Merlin, Will and Leon too as he spoke. "It's a pleasure."
A/N: In other news! My first story was published 14/02/2004 so today (Australian time) is my 9th anniversary. I have written 97 complete stories in that time, (one-shots, series, multi-chap, drabbles, iPod shuffles) over a whole lot of genres... I have over 1000 reviews (That's on one account - obviously not this one) and I'm celebrating my twentieth birthday on Monday too! (I don't want to stop being a teenager! *tears*)
I always upload a birthday chapter... Because the reviews are like presents from the internet... that don't ask for your credit card details... :)
P.S. If anyone wants to give me an awesome present, I'm trying find this Merlin story that I *cannot* for the life of me remember... It's one where Balinor is Cenred's brother and Cenred hate's Balinor so tries to kill Merlin. Anyone...? Anyone...? Bueller...? :) If you just want to send me to an equally as angsty and painful fiction, go ahead but I'm trying with all my might to find this story!