"One Last Try" (Rose)
I cannot let go so easily, for Merlin's sake. I decide to give talking sense into his father one last try. I release his hand as he quickly joins with Arthur, giving me the chance to address Balinor alone. "Merlin believes the best in people," a lump forms in my throat, "I don't want him to lose that. You shouldn't either, because you know what that does to a person, especially one as caring as he is." I begin to walk away, but stop after a few steps, "Should we meet again, I hope he is gladdened to see you, and not hardened like you have allowed yourself to become. I do not disrespect you, Balinor; it only saddens me to see you ignoring the goodness inside you." I face him with tears in my eyes, "You can only do so for so long, until you have quenched it completely. Do not lose that battle, I beg of you." He merely nods in thought. I do not pause another moment as Arthur calls for me.
As we ride on and find a spot to make camp I wonder to myself if anything we said got through to the man. Merlin is quiet as he pulls out some supplies from one of the saddlebags. Arthur observes this and remarks, "I always thought that silence would be a blessing with you, but I find it just as irritating ... You're a riddle, Merlin."
"A riddle?" Merlin humors him.
"Yes," the Prince confirms. "But I've got to quite like you."
"Yeah?"
"Now I realize you're not as big a fool as you look," he pokes him in the back with the branch in his hand, causing him to lean forwards in his crouched position.
"Yeah," Merlin smiles, "I feel the same ... Now that I realize you're not as arrogant as you sound."
Arthur's smiling face turns into a sarcastic look of question. "You still think I'm arrogant?"
"No," Merlin denies, "More ... supercilious."
His Majesty glares at him with surprise, "That's a big word, Merlin. You sure you know what it means?"
"Condescending."
Arthur nods, "Very good."
"Patronizing," he continues.
"Doesn't quite mean that," corrects Arthur.
"No. These are other things you are," Merlin says with honesty.
"Hang on," Arthur protests, and a twig snaps somewhere near us. He and I freeze as Merlin prattles on.
"Overbearing," he shakes his head as Arthur shushes him, "Very overbearing."
"Merlin!" Arthur scolds in a whisper as the two of us move towards the sound.
"But you wanted me to talk," he responds quieter.
Arthur with his sword drawn comes up behind me as the same noise recurs, catching the attention of Merlin at last. He picks up the other weapon and traces our steps. I twirl around, sensing someone to the back of us, "Behind you!" I alert, but not in horror, in happiness, yet still shock. The twigs snap under the feet of Balinor as Merlin and Arthur spin to behold the Dragonlord come to aid the kingdom in its time of need. Relief swells my heart.
"Careful, boy," he says softly with a smile as Merlin's sword is now pointing at him. "I thought you might need some help." I laugh with joy. "This is dangerous country," he adds. That doesn't even worry me right now.
"And will you return to Camelot with us?" Arthur inquires.
"You were right, Merlin," he nods at his son. "There are some in Camelot who risked their lives for me. I owe a debt that must be repaid," he switches his gaze to me. I give a smile of understanding.
"If you succeed in killing the dragon, you will not go unrewarded," Arthur states.
He chuckles gently, "I seek no reward."
"Great," Arthur plunges his sword into the forest floor. "Let's eat."
Merlin smiles and nods at his father, and then hops off to tend to the meal. Balinor stays behind and speaks to me in a low voice, "I do this for his sake, and for yours- in honor of your father. He was a great man. I am sorry I didn't get to see him again and congratulate him on having a bold and wonderful daughter. You conduct yourself as he did- with love and nobility."
"Thank you," I nearly whisper with a wide smile. Before the feeling passes, I embrace the Dragonlord, not exactly caring if he is taken aback or not, since he already thinks me bold.
"You're welcome," he hugs me back, and I think I am more surprised than he is.
I step back with a smaller smile, "I think I'll go provide Merlin with some assistance."
"I'll join you," he offers.
I nod, "Alright. I'm sure you would be handy in collecting some decent firewood."
"Who I Am" (Merlin)
I am grateful for the time to spend with my father, even if he doesn't know who I am ... I plan on telling him. I just have to wait for the opportune moment. When Rose suggests that we gather wood for the fire and she will attend to the food, I know she has hidden intentions for sending us off on a chore together. I thank her with my eyes and take advantage of the space for conversation without Arthur in earshot.
We find a spot with various branches big enough for burning, but when I bend over to pick it up, I find them all to be quite damp. "This wood's too wet," I inform him.
"Don't worry," he counters, "I'm sure we'll find a way to make it light."
We share a glance, and I know exactly what he means. It's funny how we possess a unique connection with those we share things with. I straighten, standing, and use this suggestion to ask him some questions. "When you healed Arthur," I squat to the ground, grabbing a branch, "I heard you mumble some words."
"An ancient prayer," he tells me, without me having to ask.
"I thought it might have been more than that," I comment.
"The Old Religion can teach us many things," he says.
"The Old Religion?" I jump at the topic, "Is that something you were taught?"
"It's not something you can learn," he testifies. "Either it's a part of you or it isn't." He sighs abruptly, "My father knew that, and his father before him."
"Were they also Dragonlords?" I have so much to ask. I almost feel guilty for springing all this on him.
He chooses another large stick from the ground, "We'll need some kindling."
I leave that subject alone for now. "You mentioned ..." I falter momentarily, starting to shake from nerves. "You spoke of Ealdor." He looks at me to continue. "You took refuge with a woman," I state.
"That was a long time ago."
"I grew up there," I seize this chance. I cannot pass this opportunity up. He has to know, and I have to say.
He stops what he's doing, "Ealdor?"
"Yes," I confirm, "I know the woman."
"Hunith?" he queries with growing interest, "She's still alive?"
"Yes," I pause, "She's my mother."
"Then she married," he nods with a sad smile. "That's good." He turns around to go back to collecting.
"She never married," I blurt softly, and he faces me once more. I take a few quavering breaths, "I'm your son." I can hardly believe the words came off my tongue.
I smile a little, tears accumulating along the lower rim of my eyes, clouding my vision. He stares at me with an expression of something like wonder. "I don't know what it is to have a son," he says mutedly.
I shake my head and shrug, "Or I a father," I finish with a smile.
Arthur makes a brief appearance with Rose trailing him in the forest near us. They both survey us- Arthur with cluelessness, but a smile of knowing is adorned on the girl's face. "You must not tell Arthur." He approaches me with a new light in his face and passes me the wood. We share a smile and he nods repeatedly, as do I, neither one of us really having words at this moment.
When we come back and begin to cook, Rose steals a minute with me. "You did it, Merlin," she smiles proudly.
I grin in return, "How did you know?"
"He's seeing you now," she observes.
"What do you mean?" my eyebrows knit together.
"Before, he used to look at you like he was trying to place you, unsure what to think," she perceives, "But now, he really sees you. He looks at you and knows who you are, and it all makes sense now. And he's happy."
I smile like a fool, still not believing the complexity of this whole ordeal, and yet, it all worked out.