A/N: Hey all!
So, I know I missed Sunday's update day, but as I think I mentioned last chapter, I've been working on this drawing project for this contest a YouTuber (Jazza, if you're curious) I follow is doing, and it's taking on all my concentration. I cannot wait for this contest to be over, because otherwise I'm going to burst from nerves. The contest ends next week, so until then, I may only be able to manage one update a week. Sorry!
This chapter is also not proofread, since trying to read through it and edit it is just making my head hurt. I think this chapter is where I talk about Balinor's reasoning for being different than he is in canon. When I wrote it, I remember feeling so clever for coming up with this explanation, but thinking back, and skimming this chapter, I have no idea about it anymore. One day I might go over these chapters and edit them, but I'm too anxious over this contest to look at anything I did/do and not feel like an absolute failure, regardless of if it's good or not.
On a side note, if you wanted to see my entry to the contest, you can find it at this URL, if you remove the spaces: twitter DracotheCupcake /status/ 1284644640512040960 I'm still working on one of my entries, but the other two are on there. If you'd like, I'd appreciate a like on the tweet, but y'all don't have to. ^-^
Enjoy!
"Yet another rebellion. Damn it. Has there been any word about catching their leader?"
Merlin sat in his chair, trapped between wanting to pay attention to the proceedings of the meeting, while also wanting to dissociate and live in his thoughts forever. It was a tough choice.
Besides, he thought as he heard his father's angry words, it wasn't like it was anything new.
Rebellions had been steadily rising in the last year. Actual rebellions, too. Not just ones his father called rebellions that were starving peasants trying to fight back against unfair laws. These protesters had actual weapons, some of them almost managing to topple whatever they were planning on toppling. There had been a case the month before of protesters trying to take over a Mage tower near the southern border. They had almost succeeded, but ultimately failed when their reinforcements came. However, the majority of the rebels had escaped by the time the battle ended. He had gone out there on his father's orders and had found no trace of them. He'd almost think they were using magic, but they all seemed so opposed to magic that he doubted it.
One thing was clear though. These were not the doings of starving peasants. These were organized attacks, trying to weaken their defenses. If the rebels had taken the tower, they'd have taken a major battlement of Camelot's.
If one asked Merlin, he'd say that the attacks likely had never been intended to succeed. Their failures had been too clinical. Too strategic. Merlin had seen enough battles and fights to know that there was something different about the recent attacks. No wonder his father was so concerned.
And he was, too! Honest! It was just… well, in the two weeks since his birthday, he'd been awfully distracted by Arthur...
"Prince Merlin! Are you paying attention?" His father barked, frown on his face. Merlin internally winced but externally smiled. Damn. While his father had grown kinder towards him, he still got upset when Merlin slacked off. Rightfully so, he supposed.
"Yes, my king. You were discussing the recent uprisings and requested that I head out to investigate. I apologize for not replying. I will head out at once."
It was good Merlin had practice doing two things at once and had, in fact, been paying half attention. His father looked satisfied as he sat back, nodding tightly. He seemed upset about something, but Merlin didn't know what. If it was the rebellions or something more. Something greater.
"Alright. Good, my son. We must find a way to end these rebellions. I can only take so many things away from them," the king mused, brow furrowed.
Perhaps, Merlin mused sardonically, if you were a bit kinder and stopped forcing them to starve, they'd stop hating you and rising up. But he didn't dare say it aloud.
Besides. He knew his father's reasoning. There had been talks, long before his father had taken over, of banning magic outright in the kingdom. The prior king hadn't hated magic, but many of his prospective usurpers did. The Great Dragon had even informed his father, several years before he took over, that if he did not become king, magic would all but be eradicated from Albion. His father had even seen it happen while in a trance, mind open to every possible future.
Such trances often showed false prophecies, as most futures were impossible to come to pass based on evidence of real-world workings, but it was assumed that they showed alternate worlds. Worlds and lives that could have been, would have been, if only. If only your parents had never met. If only you had married your childhood sweetheart instead of the match your parents had made for you. If only you were to meet your full potential. A person had no control over the futures they witnessed, nor did they know what circumstances brought about the changes, but it often left the viewer shaking and terrified afterwards.
His father had apparently seen a future in which magic was hunted down by an at-the-time prospective king, a man with the family name Pendragon, everyone forced to keep quiet about their magic or else they would be killed. It had shaken his father and thus he had done everything he could to ensure that it would never happen. Not while he lived. At first, he had just tried to keep the man from becoming king, but it had become apparent that his actions of evasion would not have been enough. So, he had taken over, using the dragons he commanded to do so. And had enforced all non-magical people down to prevent their uprising. To prevent their own eradication.
Merlin understood this, had been told this since before he could talk. He just… didn't know if it was better to then go around and do the exact same thing to non-magical people. Why could they not just allow everyone to be equal? He had asked his father this once, years and years ago, when he was still small enough to sit on his father's lap comfortably. The king had just hummed and hugged him close.
"Sometimes, my son," his father had rumbled, eyes distant, "you must make hard decisions as king. Decisions that, were you a young man again, you'd never have decided to make. I am not young anymore. I am not foolhardy. I have seen the horrors this world can wrought, and I have vowed to eradicate them. To end them before they can even begin. I do not expect you to understand now. But one day you will. You will understand why I have done this. For you. For us all."
The answer had stuck with him, for how much of a non-answer it had been. It was the same one his father always gave. You don't understand now, but one day you will. Well, he was older. Wiser. And he still didn't understand. How can a person preach eradicating evil while committing evil in the same breath?
Perhaps he was just being overly harsh, he thought as he watched his father's brow furrow deeper as the Court went over the grain rations they still had and the hunger the people were feeling. Due to the rebellions, there had been less grain collected at harvest, leaving their storage running empty, with a couple months more of winter. They had just entered the new year and things were not starting out well. Magic could not create food, not nutrient rich food, at least. And you could only duplicate food so many times before it lost all sense of nutrition.
Perhaps he was being unfair, he mused again, watching as the court adjourned, his father deflating as everyone but Merlin left, the man looking older and wearier than Merlin thought he'd ever be allowed to see his father. Usually he'd leave, too, let his father gather his thoughts but… something told him to stay. He didn't know what. Why something about this moment felt so, so… important.
Perhaps he would have made the same decisions, he wondered softly, as he stood and approached his father, who had stood and was now looking out the window at the courtyard below. He'd never have considered doing such a thing a year prior, but he had hoped they'd grown close enough that his father would feel at ease enough to unburden his mind. At least a little.
"I'm just trying to keep us all alive," his father whispered, eyes dark and unseeing as he stared into the courtyard below, back tense and taut as his mind barraged him with potential futures that he hoped he had prevented but had no idea if he hadn't created something far worse. In that moment… Merlin did not envy his father. Hand hesitant, Merlin reached out and laid a gentle hand on his father's shoulder, the man tensing more before relaxing somewhat. Merlin could still feel the tension as it radiated outwards, filling the large room, though.
"I know, father. And you have done the best you can to do that. I know this," he whispered, the sound seeming too loud in the quiet of the room. His father tensed again, bowing his head as he rested against the window, breathing deep.
"Do you understand now, my son? Why I've done this? Can you possibly understand?" The king whispered, eyes distant and unseeing. His father wasn't there, he realized with a start, not in this room. He was millions of miles away. In a future that would never come to pass but might have. Possibly. One day.
And he also realized, throat dry, that his father wasn't blaming him for not understanding, like he had always thought the man was when he asked. Not this time, at least. He wasn't trying to insinuate that Merlin was wrong for his lack of comprehension. He was legitimately asking if Merlin could possibly understand. If, had he known what his father knew, would he have done the same thing? He was nearing the age his father had been when he had taken over. Half a decade off. Perhaps his father had doubts.
"I, I don't know. I understand some. But… why? Why must we kill them? They're just trying to live. Like us. Why must we starve them and keep them down? Surely they'd listen more if we just… helped them?"
It sounded so simple, to him. That's why he'd be a bad king, he thought queasily, his father shaking his head slowly, eyes still unseeing. He was too soft. Too caring. Too naive.
"Then you don't understand. They would have us killed. Hunted. Our children, our babies. You would have had to live in isolation, my son. Far from comfort, from me. Serving a man who didn't care for you. You would have had to hide who you were. All your life, or else face death. What kind of life is that? Perhaps I have been too cruel, my fear forcing my hand. But if I hadn't done this, all of this… a far worse fate would have befallen our kind. They would have risen against me and taken everything from us. Non-magical people will always live in fear of what they do not understand. They never would have let me be king if I didn't use force. They'd take over. You see how they rise against me, even now. They'd never give in. Never let us live in peace. That is all I have ever wanted," his father claimed, voice soft and yearning, eyes clouded as he lifted a fisted hand to his chest. "Peace."
Merlin felt a lump enter his throat. His father had never been so soft before. So open. Not with him. This was a side he'd never seen, even in his youth. He had no idea why his father was letting him see this side now, why he was acting like this. If he ever would again. But Merlin would not squander his chance. He stepped closer, hand pressing firmer to his father's back. Trying to comfort the older man.
"Maybe if you showed them mercy, they'd stop rising up. Maybe they could see they have nothing to fear from us. Maybe… maybe we could all live in peace, together?" He whispered. He wanted to believe this could be true. Wanted to believe in a future where he and Arthur and Gwaine and all of their friends could live together on equal footing. A true kingdom.
But his father just turned and stared at him, seeing but not really seeing. Like he saw the future wisp of the boy he could have been. The king had never gone into detail of what he had seen in his vision, but he had alluded that he'd seen Merlin, grown, a servant to an uncaring prince whose face he'd never really seen. Maybe that was why he had always felt such kinship with Arthur. That could have been him, had things been different.
"If I showed them mercy now, they'd just take it and use it to stab me in the back. Their resentment has grown too much. I cannot afford to back down. Not now. Not after all I have done. Or else it all would have been for naught. There are many things I regret, my son. But if I have saved our people, our kin, from being slaughtered? Then it all would have been worth it. Is it wrong to create a little evil to save ourselves from a worse fate? They'd have done the same to us. I know they would have," the king muttered, closing his eyes tightly. Merlin's throat was drier than a desert, and he longed to leave this conversation. To never have to understand the burden his father was under. But that was selfish of him. He was a prince. He had to learn the burden of the crown one day.
"Maybe they wouldn't. Maybe they'd be grateful to you for being merciful. Maybe-"
"You are a kindhearted person, my son, but I have never taken you for a fool. Tell me. If you had been bound and chained for decades, would you ever bow to your conqueror, no matter what kindness he may show? Would you ever even trust it?"
Merlin swallowed thickly and said nothing. They both knew his answer. After all, while kind and sometimes naive, he was no fool. His father continued, turning back from the intense stare he'd leveled at Merlin to look at the courtyard. At the servants and Nobles milling around.
"No. I have no room for regret. I cannot afford it. This moment of weakness is bad enough. I do not expect you to understand. You have not seen what I have seen. What I have witnessed. You've not seen the bitter vitriol a man can feel towards those he fears. The absolute sorrow that can make even the kindest man bitter. I envy you, my child. As much as I am grateful that you have been spared such a fate."
The room filled with silence then. Just father and son, existing together. It would have been heartwarming, had Merlin not felt so bitterly cold inside.
"There was a time I thought you would betray me, one day," his father whispered, long moments later, eyes fierce on Merlin once more. Merlin's own eyes just widened, unable to do anything other than shake his head in horror. No, he thought. He could never betray his father. His only living family. The king just smiled, eyes dim and mirthless, sorrow radiating from his every pore. "I can see now that you never would. You are loyal, my son, so fiercely loyal, though I have done nothing to earn such loyalty. I was afraid, allowing my fear to consume me. I can only hope that you can one day forgive me. For all I have done. You will be the greatest king Albion has ever known. I do not doubt that. I pray that you can fix the mistakes I have made. I am forever sorry that you will have to."
Merlin didn't know what he could say. If there was anything he could say. He just watched, dumb, as his father looked down at his chest and smiled mirthlessly, eyes sadder than ever. Merlin was confused for a second before his father reached out and touched something, grasping it a second later. His necklace, he realized with horror, not knowing when the thing had escaped from his robes. He'd been so careful to not allow his father to see.
"This is a beautiful pendent, my son. Whoever gave it to you must care for you a great amount. I am glad. I have hurt you enough that it gladdens me to see you have someone who can possibly fix those hurts."
What… what was his father saying? He'd been careful. So very, very careful, to hide his feelings. Sure, he had grown a touch complacent, now that his father didn't expect his abject hatred of his servant, but he'd never shown anything even close to affection towards the man. So how could he have known? Unless... but no. His father probably thought it a gift from a courtier or mage. Perhaps from Morgana, as he had noted once that the two seemed close, smirking. That was it. It had to be. Still. He had to assuage any fears. Any lingering doubts. He couldn't lose Arthur. Not now.
"I-it was a birthday gift. From- from Lady Freya," Merlins stammered, hoping his father believed the lie. The man just gave him a knowing look, but said nothing, taking a step back.
"Then I am glad you have her. She is a good woman. Kind. I do not regret taking her in all those years ago. I knew she would mean a great deal to you, in time. Though I fear she does not mean to you what I had once assumed she would. It matters not. You have grown into an incredible young man. You will grow into an incredible king, one day. You still have much to learn, I fear, but you are getting closer. I do not doubt that."
With that, the king stepped back some more and let his expressionless mask fall into place, effectively ending the conversation. Merlin could do nothing but watch as his father clasped his shoulder, nodding once in acknowledgement, before striding off. Leaving Merlin behind, so wrong-footed and awkward as he stared out the window into the courtyard below, people milling about like ants.
It wasn't until several minutes later that he heard the courtroom door open again, Merlin turning to see a concerned Arthur hesitantly walk in. Arthur rarely, if ever, joined him during Court. Only when he was ill and needed tending to, but was required at Court, would his father allow it. But Arthur often hovered nearby to wait for him. It seemed he had tarried too long.
"Are you alright, Merlin? The king approached me and told me to go to you. I was terrified he was about to stab me or something, but he just gave me an odd look. Are you alright?"
Was he alright? He had no idea. He sighed as he wandered over to a bench near the wall, back hunched as he sat. He heard Arthur hesitantly follow, before sitting beside him. He felt a warm hand carefully touch his back, like it was uncertain if it was wanted. It was such a parallel to his conversation with his father that he almost smiled.
"Alright. Now you're worrying me. What's wrong? Don't be such a girl, Merlin," Arthur claimed, which was his way of saying he was willing to listen. Such an odd man, Merlin thought with mild humor, looking up at his now dearest friend. His heart. Such intricate rituals he danced through to show any sign of caring. It must be exhausting.
"I just… I don't know. Father told me some things that I never expected him to say. About ruling. That's all."
That's all, he said. Like he hadn't just been told something that shook the foundation of everything he'd ever believed in. That's all.
"Hm. That doesn't seem like 'that's all,'" Arthur pointed out drily. Merlin laughed, a touch mirthless. He knew him too well.
"Yeah, I know. I don't know. My father saw the future once, you know."
Arthur looked shocked at that. Seemed he didn't know. That's alright, Merlin didn't expect him to. Not many did know. His father was a private man, keeping everyone- even his own son, usually- out. Merlin only knew because he'd seen the nightmares that Gaius treated his father for. He wasn't a seer, Gaius had explained kindly, once. Not like Merlin knew Morgana to be. He was just plagued by the futures he had seen. That was why, Gaius had warned him at age eight, that playing with the future was a dangerous game. It could lead to madness if one wasn't careful. To seeing ghosts and enemies where none existed. Merlin had asked, then, naive as only a child could be, if his father was mad. Gaius had just looked at him sadly and changed the subject.
"He had been about my age at the time, Gaius said. He'd been told by the Great Dragon, warned of a horrible future for magical beings of all sorts. Father then entered a magical trance in the crystal caves, scrying for the future the Dragon mentioned. And he found it, as well as a number of others, each worse than the last. They had terrified him, I guess. Everything he has done since then has been to prevent the future he saw from coming true. But playing with the future and destiny can do funny things. There's no way of knowing if anything was actually prevented, or just delayed. It can lead to paranoia and fear taking hold. It's why it's not advised to do such a thing."
Merlin said it plainly, like it was everyday material he was talking about, but Arthur looked horrified. Merlin didn't blame him. He'd have been horrified if he'd been old enough to understand, at the time. And now it was just common knowledge to him.
"What… what had he seen?" Arthur asked, shifting closer on the bench, their sides pressed fully together as the huddled close. It was nice, Merlin thought. Intimate. He smiled mirthlessly and looked at Arthur sadly.
"Terrible things. I don't know all of it, Father not even telling Gaius the whole truth, but he saw a world where magic was outlawed. Banned on pain of death. He saw children murdered, drowned, all because the king feared them."
"King Henry?" Arthur interrupted, looking confused. Merlin shook his head. The previous king hadn't hated magic, to Merlin's knowledge. He'd been too old, anyway, to wage such a war.
"No, whoever was planning on taking over instead of my father. He never fully knew who it would have been, the faces blurred as they often are in future prophecies, but the family crest he had briefly seen was reminiscent of the one of the House of Pendragon. He assumed it would either be the old Knight Uther Pendragon or his- at the time- unborn son, perhaps. Uther had been an odds-on favorite to claim the crown anyway. It was a safe bet."
Merlin said the words causally, but he watched in confusion as Arthur blenched horribly, looking back with wide eyes. Merlin just looked at him, puzzled.
"Pendragon?" Arthur repeated, faintly. Huh. Merlin squinted, turning to face Arthur fully.
"Yeah. Why? Do you know that name?"
Arthur licked his lips but shook his head slowly.
"No… no, just an old story my mum told me once. About an old knight. That's all."
Hm. Merlin didn't know if he believed him. His reaction… but, he wouldn't pry. If Arthur wanted to keep it private, who was he to force it out? Besides. He knew that Arthur's family had been Noble, once. The Du Bois family had once been close to the Pendragon's. Perhaps Ygraine had known the man.
"Hm. Anyway, my father had proceeded to do all he could to prevent the futures he had seen. He had tried to just prevent Uther from becoming king, succeeding time and time again. But King Henry just grew older and older. Other knights vied for his heirless throne. Other knights who would have been just as bad, my father feared. And so, with help of the dragons he commanded, he took over Camelot by force, enforcing his rule. When the Great Dragon betrayed him, my father had him locked away. From there, everything he has done has been to keep the various futures he saw at bay. Like I said, you can't know if you've ever really changed the future or if you've just delayed it. He had to be sure."
Silence reigned after that, both men staring into the distance as they thought. It was Arthur who finally broke it.
"And what of the old knight? The Pendragon. And his son. What became of them?"
Merlin shrugged. He had no idea.
"No clue. Father had tried to have them killed, Gaius told me when I had asked, but they had gotten help escaping. Their son had only been an infant at the time, I wasn't even born, still in my mother's womb. Their records were destroyed and their tracks expertly hidden. Father thought the Great Dragon has been the cause of it, of altering people's memories and making it harder to find the man and his family, which had sparked his intense rage at the beast, who somehow had been able to defy a Dragonlord. The Dragon is still locked beneath the castle, you know. Kilgharrah. I met him once. He told me of a prophecy, the Once and Future King. I have no idea what he was talking about, though."
A lie. Merlin had an inkling of an idea, now bolstered by the fact his father had thought he would betray him one day. It was ridiculous, of course. Merlin was nothing if not loyal, almost to a fault. He was half positive he'd walk off a cliff if his father commanded it.
"Are you… are you afraid that they'd come here one day? Exacting revenge?"
Hm. Good question. Merlin shrugged again, ignoring his unease at the question, as well as the wary look on Arthur's face.
"I have no idea. I wouldn't blame them, if they did. I love my father, don't get me wrong. But I know the evil he has done. He asked me, just now, if committing a little evil to save people from a worse fate was wrong. And I... I do not know. Maybe for us. For the magical people. But for the non-magical people, like you, like your friends? Like the Pendragon family, if they still live? … no. I doubt it would be worth it."
More silence followed, the men both lost in thought. After a while, Merlin stood, groaning at the fatigue he felt plague him.
"Well, this has been a long day. I have some paperwork to get done before dinner. Do you think you could summon a bath tonight? I know I had one last night, but I think I may need it today. With the lavender oil. I think it will help. Father expects me to ride out to the villages where the rebellions took place, to figure out what I can. See if there is a pattern. We ride at dawn, so be sure to be well rested, alright? Take a hot bath yourself, take all the scented oils you need. You look like you need it."
Merlin meant the words in a kind way, thinking it would be good to help the man relax since he looked so tense after their talk, but smirked meanly when Arthur glared at him, tentatively sniffing at his shirt and making a face. Merlin honestly didn't mind the other's scent. It was oddly calming. Like polish and dirt and sweat. It should be revolting, but it oddly comforted him. It was just so distinctly... Arthur.
"Alright, fine, your majesty," Arthur teased, rolling his eyes before crossing them while sticking out his tongue, making Merlin laugh. The man did that more often lately, he noticed fondly as the man laughed in return. Did foolish things that once would have mortified him, all to make Merlin laugh. It seemed his tendency to play the fool had rubbed off on Arthur. Good. The man could do with a touch more humility. The way he acted sometimes, one would think him the prince and Merlin the servant.
The servant he could have been, had the world been different.
Hm. He didn't want to think about that.
Instead, he wandered out to the main castle, readjusting the uncomfortable crown on his head, hiding his pendant under his robes as he did so. It didn't matter as much now, keeping the pendant hidden, since his father knew. But he still felt a desire to keep it unseen. Safe. He thought of the necklace he'd given Arthur, which he had since upgraded the magic spell he had once placed on it, making it protect against stronger, more powerful attacks. He liked the thought of them having secret necklaces they had gifted one another. It felt… sweet. Intimate. There was no magic on the pendant Arthur gave him, but it felt like it kept him safe regardless.
Or maybe it did have magic, after all, he thought later as he lazed in his bath, lavender scent relaxing his very bones, Arthur puttering around as he tried (and failed) to not make his glances obvious. He held the pendent between lazy fingers, staring at the dragon's fierce golden eyes, his bright red, bleeding heart.
Maybe it just wasn't the kind of magic one could see.
After all.
Wasn't love, in and of itself, a form of magic?
~XoxoxoxoxoxoXoxoxoxoxoxoX~
Arthur was panicking. Definitely panicking. Oh, dear god.
"Would you stop pacing? You're disrupting my work," Gaius called, annoyance clear in his voice. Arthur just glared at the man who had become a father to him.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I just learned that the king apparently wanted my father- and me! - dead! Probably still does! Sorry that that bothers you!"
Gaius rolled his eyes, like the rude, cruel old man he was, Arthur thought meanly.
"I did warn you to never tell anyone your last name, didn't I? And you've not, have you?" Gaius questioned lightly, raising The Dreaded Eyebrow of Doom (he'd upgraded its moniker over the past year. He felt it warranted it.).
"No! And yes, you did warn me! Because the king had thought my father would challenge him as king! Not because my father had apparently actually been king in an alternate life!"
Arthur remembered something, something very old that he'd almost forgotten. On his first visit to the Great Dragon, the beast had mentioned that his father could have become a terrible man, had life followed a different path. That he'd have caused death and destruction. Arthur had pushed the thought aside, having immediately afterwards learned about his shared destiny with Merlin, which had taken precedence in his mind, but he remembered it painfully now. Would his father truly have been so horrible? Would he truly have been as bad, if not worse, than Balinor? He shuddered to think it. Couldn't, actually, think it. He'd idolized the idea of his father for so long...
"I hadn't known that part. Not fully. King Balinor is a private man, Arthur. He keeps his thoughts similarly private. I had just known that he'd seen the Pendragon crest and feared your father. But the future is not something to be taken lightly, and there is no way of knowing anything for sure. If your father was actually the dreaded king or not. I had assumed that might be the assumption King Balinor would make, especially after he ordered your family to be killed, myself risking life and limb to help you three escape, but I had never known for sure if he was right or not."
Oh, right. Arthur rolled his eyes, anger and resentment simmering in him like a slow-moving storm. Like hell Gaius didn't know. He was a smart man. And even still, he should have told him. He shouldn't have had to find out from Merlin, of all people.
"You're a liar, Gaius. You kept this from me. For over a year and a half! I should have known! I thought you lo- cared about me. Why didn't you tell me?"
Arthur tried. He really, really did try to keep the pain and betrayal from his voice. But it leaked through anyway, causing him to turn his face down in shame as Gaius looked at him with sorrow in his old eyes. Oh, God. He hadn't meant to do that. He didn't want pity.
As Gaius approached, he wanted to back away, but his pride didn't let him. He just looked up at the approaching man, venom in his gaze as Gaius looked at him with damned pity. It didn't deter the older man, Gaius instead resting his arms gently on Arthur's shoulders, looking him in the eye. Arthur set his jaw, own eyes blazing with raw emotion, but he didn't turn away.
"Oh, my dear boy. You know that I adore you. You are the son I never had. I never expected to have such a gift, so late in life. You know I love you like my own. And that is why, my boy, I never told you. Couldn't tell you. The future is not something to be trifled with. I watched, helpless, as its knowledge burdened my friend, turning a once great and kind man into a fearful tyrant. I couldn't bear to think of the same thing happening to you. The future, or any possible future, is best left alone. No good comes from knowing where your future lies. Destiny is one thing. It is a possible path, a guiding path. But you have the choice to not follow it, if you so choose. The future, while not set in stone, will always happen, one way or another. Trade one tyrant king for another. One life for a different life. No matter what, you can't stop the future from happening. Kilgharrah learned that the hard way."
Arthur felt sick. He gasped at the words, closing his eyes tight. No. No, Gaius was wrong. His father wouldn't have been a tyrant. Not in any timeline. No.
"Oh, my boy. See, this is exactly what I had wanted to prevent. It will do you no good, Arthur, to dwell too long on what might have been. What your father might or might not have done matters little now. It is what you decide to do, my boy, that matters most. What you and Merlin can achieve. That's all that matters. Not what may, possibly have been, in a future already deterred."
Arthur didn't know what to think. He wanted to trust Gaius's words. He really, really did. But he couldn't get the words of the Dragon out of his head, now that he had remembered them. Now that they had been pulled from the depth of his memory, laid bare for him to see.
Gaius was wrong. Arthur did know for certain what his father would have done. Had fate followed a different path. Kilgharrah had practically told him. He'd just been too blind to see.
The question was, did it still matter? Did it matter what the man could have done? Or was Gaius right? Did it only matter, now, what he and Merlin did in this future? This timeline that Balinor had created through his intense fear? Or was there some merit in Balinor's fear? Had he only, ever, delayed the inevitable? What if… if instead of his father… what if he…
"I don't know, Gaius. I really don't. I just..." Arthur paused, trying to get his words out properly. "I have just spent all my life looking up to my father. To his memory, his legacy. I strove to become the kind of man my father would be proud of, so that if I ever- if I ever met him, one day. If he still is alive. That maybe… maybe he'd be proud of me."
To his endless mortification, tears formed in his eyes, making him gasp as he looked up to keep them in. Gaius made a sympathetic noise, but Arthur wasn't done. He shook his head violently.
"But to hear, that he could have been a tyrant… and I'm sure he would have been. The Dragon told me as such when we first met. Said he had hoped Balinor would be a better man, but he'd been wrong. I hadn't realized what he had meant, at the time, but now… It's just… it's so opposite from the man I think of when I picture my father. A man, bright and noble, and true and just. A man who could do no wrong, who vanquished evil. I spent so long wanting to be a man he'd be proud of, but what if I wouldn't have been proud of the man he was? Is? What if I have been lying to myself, Gaius? What if-"
"Arthur, no. I knew your father. Uther was a great man-"
"So was Balinor, once! You said it yourself! But it doesn't matter how great a man is in youth, not if he becomes a monster as an adult! And… and what about me, Gaius?" And that was the crux of the whole thing, he felt, as a tear rolled down his face. He wiped at it angrily, furious at his stupid emotions. "If my father had been king, then I would have been prince. Right? Like Merlin. What if I had just stood by as my father did terrible things? I've often wondered how Merlin could do it, could watch Balinor do such horrible things with nary a complaint. But what if I was just like that? Or worse? What if I, I was… was complacent, was a willing... w-what if I-"
God. He was pathetic, he thought, as a sob rose in his chest. He tried to beat it down, but he couldn't.
He wanted to believe he was a good man. A righteous man. Kind and loyal and just. But didn't every man want to believe that? He was sure Valiant, the bastard, had thought himself a good man. Even as he killed a young sorcerer in his prime, all for a shot at glory. Had almost killed a prince, the best man Arthur had ever known, for the same vain reason. Balinor probably thought himself a good man, too. Once. A great man, probably, for deterring such a horrible future.
He didn't want to think he could ever have been cruel. Or horrible. Or unkind. But what if, in that possible future… what if he had been? What if Merlin had been his servant, forced to suffer from his cruelty? Arthur knew himself enough to know he'd have not been as incredible to Merlin as Merlin was to him. Arthur had too much deadly pride. If he were prince, he'd likely not even allow himself to befriend his servant. It would have been improper; he'd learned that much through talking to the other servants. Merlin had never cared about that sort of thing, just proving how amazing of a man he truly was. Arthur wasn't like that. Not in this life, certainly not in the other.
Before he could let his thoughts circle any further, he felt a warm hand on his cheek, forcing his eyes, which had glazed over while staring at the wall, back to Gaius's concerned blue ones.
"Oh, Arthur. My dear, dear boy. No. I do not know what the future may have brought. Once upon a time. But I have no doubts that you would have been as kind and just as you always have been. All that has changed has been certain aspects of the future. Not what makes up you, at your core. You are a good man, Arthur Pendragon. You are not your father, not here, not in any universe. You are, always, only, yourself. And who you make yourself out to be. No more, no less."
"But-"
"No. No buts. Dwelling on possibilities leads to madness, Arthur. Perhaps, out there, there is a universe in which I became king and eradicated all life on earth in a bitter crusade. Or, perhaps, a universe in which I was the daring hero, destined to rid the land of evil. Or perhaps a world in which I'd been born a girl. Or never born at all. The possibilities are endless, my boy. If you dwell on it for too long, you'll just drive yourself mad. Half of what makes up a man is how he is raised. Who cared for him; who nurtured him. But half, Arthur. Half of it is who you, inherently, at your core, are. And you? You are an incredible young man. Inside and out. I am eager to see the things you will do. I would give my life if I had to, to have you succeed. I believe in you that much."
He couldn't help the sob that released at that, the tears finally spilling. Before he could wipe them away in shame, Gaius wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tight to the deceptively strong chest. The first real hug he had had since his last trip to Fayford, a few months prior. God, he missed it. Being close to someone. He wanted to be distant, since a man relied on no one, save maybe his wife, but he didn't like being so solitary. So alone. He was a social creature, surrounding himself in friends and followers, people who would follow his lead, even to their deaths. Ewan had proved that. But he wasn't built for a solitary life. For being so closed off
What if-
But no, he forced himself to think, squeezing Gaius tighter. The older man was right. It didn't matter. Maybe he was a horrible person in that other future. Maybe he was as big a prat as he'd once thought Merlin to be. Bigger, maybe.
But it didn't matter. Not to him. He, at this moment, was the same person he'd been the day before, and the day before that. He was evolving, growing, searching for his true self. Or maybe just expanding, no true self ever available but the true self he currently was. Maybe he had no end goal, no perfect destination. Maybe he'd never fully be 'done' being the person he so badly wanted to be.
It would take work. Hard work, and discipline. Struggle and strife. He'd do wrong things, make wrong moves. He'd likely hurt people, be hurt in return. But that was life. No one can know what the future holds. It would just lead to madness, as Gaius said. To know the future… to taste it… to see its horror and its glory… and yet know, no matter what you did, the future would come true. One way or another.
He wondered, then. What kind of man Balinor would have been? Would Merlin have been? Would they have been good? Would Balinor have loved his son as fiercely as he should have, no prophecy lying over them, souring their love? Would Balinor have died? Left?
Who knew? As Gaius said. The possibilities were endless. Why dwell on what could have been, but never was? The fact remained that, in this time, this day and age? Balinor was not a good man. He'd done too much, hurt too many to be considered that.
But maybe… maybe, Arthur realized as he pulled back and frowned at the fire in the warm hearth. Maybe Balinor wasn't a bad man, either. It was strange to think. He'd always known that Merlin loved the man, but he'd never understood why. He'd figured it was just blind loyalty. But Merlin was a brilliant man. Loving and caring. And oh so good. In the traditional sense. He wouldn't have given his loyalty away to just anyone. Not even his father. Not like Arthur would, giving blind loyalty to a man he'd never even met, had only heard a few tales about. Merlin wouldn't have loved his father so deeply if there wasn't something there for him to love. He was suddenly certain of it.
All Arthur's life he'd hated the king. The cruel tyrant who had stolen his land, had ruined his family. Had driven his father away, possibly even killed him. He'd thought him evil and wrong and unjust.
But maybe… maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was just a man. A man who'd been so afraid he'd been willing to ruin himself for the supposed 'greater good'.
What would Arthur do? If he had learned of everything that occurred through Balinor's reign, before it had happened. If he had witnessed the countless crimes and monstrosities that Balinor would commit. If he had been gifted with foresight and the ability to do something about it.
What would he have done?
He'd have tried to stop it, he realized, eyes wide. Consequences be damned. Gaius was staring at him, wary, like he was afraid Arthur was about to jump into the flame. But no. Arthur saw clearly, now. For once.
If you had the chance to do a little evil now, to prevent far greater evil later… wouldn't you try and do it? Even if your action were evil, would it matter, if they prevented something worse?
...Hm. It was a lot to think about. Morality and destiny and fate. Was any man truly evil, or just a product of their situation? After all, the road to Hell was paved with good intentions. And the path to heaven marred with the folly of the damned.
God. It was hard to wrap his mind around. If it was so easy to do evil, to harm others, what prevented him from doing the same thing, should he ever become king? He'd always trusted in his inherent goodness, inherited from his father, he'd assumed. And mother. But what if no such thing existed? What if…
What if he was only, ever, who he made himself into?
It was terrifying. To think. He could be evil, like he'd always assumed Balinor was. Like his father might have been. It would have been easy to go down that path. To follow false prophets. To march, so willingly, into Hell.
But… no. No, he realized, smiling softly at the warm fire glow. Gaius was still looking at him, so concerned, so Arthur turned and smiled brightly at him.
No.
He wouldn't become like Balinor. Or like the man his father could have been. Maybe. In another life. And you know why?
Because he had Gaius. He had his mother. He had his friends; Gwaine, Percival, Leon. Even Lancelot. He had Gwen; sweet, righteous Gwen.
And, most of all, he had Merlin.
These people, the ones he cared for like no one else. The ones he loved with all his heart. The ones who, time and time again, gave him strength and courage and love, love, love. Even when he'd done nothing to earn it. What had he done, after all, to earn the favor of a prince? Nothing, he felt. But Merlin had seen something in him. Maybe it was their shared destiny, preying on Merlin in his unaware state. Maybe it was just their bond muddling things.
Or maybe Merlin had seen the man he could become, if given support, and had chosen, actively, to give said support. Maybe Merlin believed in him just as much as he believed in Merlin. He may never truly know.
The prophecy claimed that Arthur, the Once and Future King, would defeat the tyrant sorcerer king with Merlin, the world's most powerful sorcerer, by his side. The prophecy never, at all, said how that would happen. How they would go about defeating the evil.
Never said the king had to die, or even be overthrown. Never said the king, himself, was the evil they would vanquish. It was only the vast retellings that said that.
The future was in their hands. Maybe it had been written, eons ago. Maybe everything was predetermined, their future more like a rat maze than an open field.
Maybe. Maybe, maybe, maybe. So many maybes, the word didn't even sound real anymore. Like a fake word. Nonsense.
Regardless, the future was unknown to him. He had the power to craft it to his will, then. If one didn't know the future the universe had planned, didn't one, technically, have all possible futures open to them? If they didn't know which script they were following?
Balinor's mistake was assuming that the future he could bring would be greater than the future he has deterred. He'd assumed that his goodness, his righteousness, would be enough to counter the future he had seen. He'd been wrong. That had been his biggest downfall. Arthur wondered if the man saw that. If the righteous, good man Gaius and Merlin saw Balinor to be was whimpering, beaten back by the cruel monster that was fear.
That was a thought. Would he be able to save Balinor, too? Merlin's own father? Would he, could he, possibly be Good enough for that?
God. This was too much. He felt like he'd just drunk a barrel full of whiskey and had the secrets of the universe implanted into his head. Like he'd just glimpsed at the veil between worlds and had gained eternal knowledge. Like he'd eaten the forbidden fruit.
It was probably nonsense. He was likely wrong. Maybe some men were just inherently evil. Maybe Balinor was an evil, cruel man, and the love Merlin and Gaius felt for him was unfounded.
He doubted it, though. Now that he thought of it.
"You look exhausted, Arthur. I do not know what is running through your mind right now, but I can tell it is profound. Listen to it, my boy. Whatever you are thinking just very well might be right. But you should get some rest. Merlin had a bath sent to your room earlier, enchanting it himself to keep it perfect temperature. Enjoy yourself, Arthur. Relax and let your mind wander as you bathe. A good bath can be very healing for the soul, you know."
Gaius said it so matter of fact that Arthur couldn't help but laugh. He gave Gaius a teasing grin, grateful to be able to think of something else. His head was aching too much from his thinking. It was exhausting. Was this what philosophers did all day? Ew. Gross. Disgusting. When he was king, he'd outlaw thinking. That wasn't the ruling of a soon-to-be mad tyrant. Just of a sensible man.
"Is that an official treatment from the famed court physician, then?" He teased, even as he wandered up to his room. Gaius chuckled, calling after him.
"Yes! Never forget the healing properties a nice, warm bath can provide. And then some rest. You're going to have a busy time, I'm afraid. The next several years will not be kind. Take any moment you can to rest and relax. You will need it."
Arthur smiled at the words, ignoring how his stomach churned at the thought. He wanted to bathe, in scented oil no less, and forget the troubles of the day. Not gain new ones, thanks.
Before he could finish heading upstairs, though, Gaius called out once again, voice warm.
"Oh, and Arthur," he called, causing Arthur to turn back curiously. Gaius was smiling, eyes bright and happy. "I know, while I consider you my son, you are not so. Still, I hope that it means something when I say that I am proud, so very, very proud of the man you have become. I know I have no right to claim any of your progress for my own, but I can only hope that I have helped you as much as you have helped me. Now, rest, my boy. You've earned it."
Doing his best to keep from bawling like a child again, he nodded tightly and fled into his room, throat so tight it hurt to breathe. He wanted to say something back, to express how much Gaius had done for him over the past year and a half. How he loved him as fiercely as he would love his father, he was sure. But he couldn't. He'd try, later. But for now, he was too tired and wanted to just not think for a while.
And as he bathed, the luxurious scent of lavender and lilac filling the air, soothing his body and mind (making him finally understand how sleepy Merlin always got while bathing, by the by), he let his worries drift away. Oh, he knew himself. He'd be thinking about all this again someday. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the next day. But god, was he tired of maybes.
The future was fluid. Only a foolish man would try and change that which was not yet set in stone. Would try and learn of fates better left alone. Arthur liked to think he wasn't a particularly foolish man. But who knew? Who, honestly, knew?
Finally, once he'd reluctantly left the tub and gotten dressed, lying in his slightly-too-hard bed, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
And dreamed of bright blue eyes, twinkling in the light, looking at him with the same abject adoration he looked at them with. A warm hand pressed against his and a comfortable weight in his chest. Love.
And it was good.
A/N: Did this chapter make sense? I don't remember much from it, other than my explanation for why Balinor is different is that he saw the canon future in a trance in the crystal cave, was like "dude, WTF?" And did everything he could to, ya know... prevent that future. I expand on this in later chapters, I think, but he hadn't initially wanted to become king, just meant to prevent the future from happening by preventing Uther (but he didn't know it was Uther, not for sure, as the face was blurred, for plot reasons... but we all know it was Uther) from being king and doing his ban on magic.
But, over time, he realized that it wasn't enough, and that he'd have to make a big wave to erase that future, and voila, he slowly but surely became the morally dubious king he is today. As they always say, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Good men get led astray sometimes, doing what they hope is right. And Balinor has to pretend that what he's doing is the right thing, or else he will crumble, and everything he has done, good and bad, will be worthless. To put it this way, he's done so much bad, that the only way he can justify it to himself is to do more bad, hoping that eventually it will turn out for the better. Yes, this logic is very, very flawed, and Balinor does know this, to some extent. But when you're careening down a downward path, it can be very hard to convince yourself to stop and turn around.
I hope this makes sense... if you can't tell, I spend a lot of time ruminating on why people sometimes go down bad paths, know they're going down bad paths, and yet still go down these paths. The way I see it, it's easier to pretend that it's all for the greater good, that it will work out for the better eventually, than to concede to yourself that maybe, just maybe... everything you are doing is wrong and that, in fact, you are the bad guy. I don't view Balinor as evil, like I never viewed Uther as evil. Just as a man who had to believe that he was doing the right thing, regardless of the evidence to the contrary.
So, yeah. This chapter is the foundation for a lot of my future plot, so pay attention to the details.
Also, I made Arthur cry again. While writing this note, I read part of this chapter and just... Ugh. I'm sorry, y'all. I tend to write emotional characters, but I don't think Arthur would cry as much as I make him in this story. I think I might go through this story at some point and fix that, make Arthur cry less often. Merlin was a more emotional person in canon, but Arthur rarely cried, which I just... threw to the wayside, apparently. -.-