They settled down on some rocks inside the cave, Balinor across from Arthur. Merlin was standing off to the side, hovering and looking tense.

Arthur saw Balinor was sizing him up. He let him, straightening his back and lifting his chin. The dragonlord's dark eyes were inscrutable and when he finally fixed them on Arthur's, it was impossible to know which conclusions he might have come to. Until he spoke.

"You look much like her," Balinor said.

Arthur tried not to fidget when he clarified, "My mother, you mean." He hesitated. "You knew her well?"

"She was my queen," Balinor responded. His voice was deep and calm, matter-of-fact. "I wouldn't say that I knew her as much as I admired her. Queen Ygraine was confident, intelligent, compassionate and, most importantly, a calming influence on your father's temper. Well-loved by the people." He paused briefly, maybe to gather his thoughts. "But she was also known to be quite stubborn. This became very clear when, after years of trying, she finally was with child." He gestured at Arthur at the last word. "Ygraine had always been thin. Beautiful, but in a fragile way. She did not take well to pregnancy. I remember seeing her on the throne when she was only a few months along and thinking, She is fading away. Yet, she continued with all her duties to the point where she would frequently collapse from exhaustion."

Arthur swallowed. He had never heard any of this from his father, but Balinor had no reason to make this up.

"Uther saw, of course. And he tried everything. Exotic foods to keep her eating, sacrifices to any gods he could think of in case he needed to appease them. The physician, Gaius, was up all hours of the night, cooking up concoctions meant to lend her strength. But nothing helped, and it soon looked like she would not even make it past the seven-month mark. There were signs the child might come far too early."

Arthur shuddered. He did not like where the tale was heading. Because he had been born a healthy child, this much he knew, not a weak little thing on the brink of death. Something had been done.

"This was when Uther came to me," Balinor continued. "At this point, Gaius had done an extensive amount of research, in all matters of books borrowed from far-away kingdoms, some of them carrying knowledge humans would be better off not having. In one of those books, he found a recipe for a potion. A potion containing dragon's blood."

Next to them, Merlin gasped, a horrified little sound, which immediately set Arthur on edge.

"You must understand how potent a dragon's blood is. It is said that consuming it can provide great powers, but it is not without ill effects. Few survive the attempt, and those that do rarely gain any positive effects, but suffer from bad health for the rest of their lives. There are legends that say that us dragonlords all hail from one man who managed to survive the consumption of a pint of dragon's blood, and that that same blood is still passed on and flowing in our veins, granting us our powers to this day."

"What was the potion?" Arthur asked roughly, willing Balinor to focus on what was important.

"A strength potion," Balinor explained. "From the sounds of it, rather basic in its nature, except for the main ingredient. It is supposed to make the body resistant to wasting and boost its energy, which is what Ygraine needed, undoubtedly. Your father came to me and asked for the blood. I refused him, as did the other dragonlords. I explained why I refused, told him of the dangers, but he would not listen. He tried to order me to do it, but I said I would not obey him in this. He came back to threaten me the next day, but still I remained steadfast. I would not give him the blood."

For the first time during his tale, Balinor looked away. He grimaced. "The day after, he approached me again. This time, he begged. He came to my chambers and begged me to give him just a drop of dragon's blood to save his wife and child." He looked up again and he sounded genuinely regretful when he said, "How could I refuse a king pleading on bended knee?"

Arthur tried to wrap his mind around the idea of his father begging anyone for anything, and couldn't.

But Balinor was still talking, "Kilgharrah was amenable to parting with some of his blood and Gaius made the potion. Ygraine was willing to try anything at this point. Not for herself so much as for her unborn child."

"It worked?" Arthur ventured.

"In a way," Balinor replied cryptically. "She lived, and her belly grew. But she was all but tied to her bed at this point, skinny and…" He stopped. "I don't want to burden you with the details. Suffice to say, the potion worked, but not as intended."

"What do you mean?"

"It worked on you," Balinor said. "It gave you strength. And it kept Ygraine alive along with you, though only barely, right up to your birth. At this point, there was nothing of her left. She was but a husk, and died as soon as you had taken your first breath."

Arthur exhaled as he put the pieces together, "And my father blamed you."

"Yes. I had given him the blood, after all."

"Even though he pressured you. And it worked."

"Not the way he wanted it to," Balinor said. "He wanted you, his heir, but he had never thought it would mean losing Ygraine."

Arthur nodded. Perhaps this tale warranted more of a reaction than that, but after what had happened in the past days, he simply felt a weary sort of acceptance that Balinor was speaking the truth. There was reason for anger here; at his own father, at Gaius perhaps, maybe at Balinor, but all he felt was sorrow and regret. He turned his head to stare out of the cave, thinking over what he had heard. He allowed himself a moment to grieve his mother anew, and to pity his father who had lost her, too.

Then he straightened his shoulders and turned back to Balinor, who had waited patiently for his response. "So, my father started a war over nothing," Arthur stated, proud that his voice came out steady. "There was no betrayal, except on his part."

"I regret my part in this," Balinor admitted. "But no, I would not say I betrayed Uther. Only my own principles."

"Thank you for telling me this, Lord Balinor." Arthur stood, throwing a glance at Merlin, only to quickly snatch back his eyes when he saw the pity on his face. That was the last thing he wanted. He looked at Balinor, who had also got up. Arthur continued, "I can't help but feel shame that my own father has caused so much suffering, seeking revenge over something that was his own mistake. I know I can never ask your forgiveness, but I humbly apologise for what my family has done to you and your kind."

He bowed his head low, an inadequate gesture in the face of two decades worth of senseless killings.

"You have no blame in this," said Balinor.

"It is my crime by inheritance," Arthur argued. His still lowered eyes caught on Excalibur. A sword granting him powers grand enough to crush the very people who had already suffered so much by his father's cruel hands. He reached for the sword belt and started taking it off. "I shouldn't have this," he continued. "After what my father has done, I should not be able to command your dragons. I have no right to this kind of power." He finished unbuckling the sword belt, holding out the leather strap to Balinor, knowing he couldn't touch the hilt. "You take it. You'll be safe from me this way."

When nothing happened, Arthur looked up. Balinor's face was stunned, lips slightly parted behind his dark beard. For a moment, he studied the sword, then observed Arthur's features with drawn eyebrows before finally reaching out for the belt.

"Father—" protested Merlin.

But Balinor didn't take the belt. He pushed the sword back towards Arthur instead and said, "It's yours to wield, Great One."

Arthur stiffened on the spot.

"You believe it?" Merlin took a step towards them, his eyes fixed on his father, his voice laced with amazement. "You believe he's the Great Dragon!"

Balinor turned to face his son. There was regret in his face.

"I didn't want to believe it. It made no sense, why a Pendragon could wield Excalibur," Balinor replied, his voice laced with emotion. "But Kilgharrah has made the connection. Such a potent potion, ingested before birth..." He looked back at Arthur. "It must have created a bond with dragons that otherwise was never inherent in the Pendragon family. He is our kind, bound to us by dragon blood."

"And our king," said Merlin, his voice gone soft and emotional. His next words drove heat into Arthur's cheeks, "Father, believe me when I tell you Arthur is different from Uther. He's proven himself worthy, and a true warrior, too, like the prophecy said. I am proud to have been chosen to serve him as Emrys. He will not let us down. He will lead us like I never could have done."

Balinor's face twisted in some intense emotion Arthur could not hope to interpret. "Merlin, you must know I—" he started, but was interrupted by the sound of a voice.

"Lord Balinor!" A man's head was poking over the ledge by the ladder. "Another messenger from Commander Volik! He is waiting in the war tent with Commander Forwin and the others."

"I will be there shortly," said Balinor, then turned towards Arthur. His whole attitude had shifted, now every bit the lord fighting a war. "News from the front, undoubtedly connected to your father. Will you join us in the war tent, Great One?"

Surprised, Arthur nodded. "Of course, Lord Balinor."

Balinor strode to the ladder to make his way down and Arthur went after him at once, quickly buckling his sword belt. He turned when he didn't hear Merlin follow.

"You're not coming?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Merlin gave him a weak smile. "My father doesn't usually invite me to those meetings."

Arthur looked him over. "Well, your liege demands your presence. Come along, Lord Merlin."

Merlin sent him an incredulous look, but dutifully followed him to the ladder and climbed down after Arthur.


The war tent was large, furnished with well-worn carpet and a simple wooden table. Rolled-up maps lay on the side or were propped against the wall, another had been spread across the wooden surface. Eight warriors were waiting as they entered, along with a ninth man who had to be the messenger.

All bowed when Balinor entered the tent, though Arthur could immediately feel hostile eyes on him when he came to stand next to the dragonlord. The looks Merlin received when he entered last weren't any less hateful.

"What is the dragonslayer doing here?" one man spoke up at once. Another of those that had assaulted Arthur in the past, he realised.

Balinor immediately rounded on him. "Commander Forwin," he said dangerously, "you will address the Great Dragon with the respect appropriate to his station."

Nine pair of eyes widened.

"You— you mean him?" Forwin stammered, making a helpless sort of gesture into Arthur's direction. "But my lord, you said it yourself—"

"Be quiet," Balinor said dismissively. "Do you not see Excalibur hanging off his belt? He is the one."

A moment of shocked silence descended, in which everyone digested Balinor's sudden change of heart.

"But my lord," one brave soul ventured, "he is Uther's son—"

"The dragons have accepted his authority and follow his commands. I spoke to Kilgharrah myself. What further proof do you want, Togor? Do you take me for a liar?"

Togor mutely shook his head, while the others whispered in the background. Most still looked sceptical, others angry, but a few were staring intently at Arthur as if trying to reappraise him. Balinor crossed his arms, clearly expecting his men to follow his lead.

"And your boy?" another commander finally dared to ask, eyeing Merlin.

Balinor threw his son a look that clearly showed he hadn't expected Merlin to follow him here. Merlin seemed to shrink a bit on the spot, though he met his father's eyes defiantly.

Arthur decided to speak up for him. "I have asked him to come."

At that, Balinor nodded once in quick acceptance, then turned to the messenger. "Speak, man. What news from the front?"

The messenger bowed once more, then began to talk, "My lord, Commander Volik has just received word from our sources in Camelot." And wasn't that a revelation? Arthur immediately found himself wondering who in Camelot might be secretly spying for Balinor. "Uther is mobilising all of his troops and reportedly moving them to the Red Ravine."

"What?" Balinor exclaimed. "Are you sure?" Behind him, the men around the table were exchanging alarmed looks and quick murmurs.

"Yes, my lord," the messenger continued, clearly uncomfortable about being the barer of bad news. "Apparently Uther is convinced that his son has switched sides, and that you are to blame for this. He is ready to invade with everything he got. There is talk of lads as young as twelve getting conscripted right off the fields and forced through the most rudimentary training with a sword."

"That's insanity!" one of Balinor's men exclaimed, but Balinor immediately held up a hand.

"What else?" he asked.

"Equipment, my lord. It's getting moved as well. At least twenty launchers. A fresh batch of draconite swords from the forges near Andor was just delivered to the citadel and knights from as far as Stonedown and Daobeth are getting pulled from the borders. He's staking everything on this attack, my lord, to the point where he is leaving Camelot vulnerable to other enemies."

Balinor had started pacing, but stopped now to declare, "He's gone well and truly mad, then! This is a suicide mission, and he's going to take us down with him."

"He believes he has nothing left to lose," Arthur spoke up. He had listened surprisingly calmly to the messenger. There had been so many revelations, shifts and changes in the past days, this one didn't even make the top of his list. Of course Uther would throw everything he got at Balinor. He had already revealed how little he cared for Camelot's well-being. With his heir on the dragons' side, what stopped him from risking everything to finally get his revenge, no matter how bloody?

"So you believe it?" Forwin asked suspiciously. "Your father would really do this?"

"At this point, I would put nothing past him," Arthur said, holding the man's gaze. "He believes I have switched sides, and where dragons are concerned, reason seems to escape him. Not even a day ago, he voiced his fears to me that Lord Merlin here might have bewitched me with his dragon magic."

Merlin let out a choked guffaw and threw him a comically disbelieving look that, in other circumstances, would have made Arthur laugh as well.

"He believes you have switched sides?" another asked, immediately picking up on his phrasing. "If you're actually the Great Dragon, surely—"

"He is, Baldor," Balinor interrupted, "and I will have no more arguments about this. Anybody who questions him questions my authority and is free to leave this tent now, never to return." When nobody made a move, he looked at Arthur. "Are you willing to help us, Great One? Your insights regarding Camelot's army and equipment would undoubtedly be helpful while planning our defences."

Arthur's first instinct was to say no. It didn't sit right, making plans to fight against Camelot, against his own men. But his father had just officially announced him a traitor. And while peace had become Arthur's ultimate goal, Balinor would have to start mobilising his own troops immediately to avoid getting crushed. If the reports were true and Uther had decided to throw every last man and boy at Balinor, consequences be damned – well. At the end of this battle, there might simply not be enough people left to make peace with.

Before he was forced to make a decision, another man entered the war tent.

"Lord Balinor," the guard said with a hasty bow, "I apologise for the interruption, but we have just captured a knight of Camelot at the edge of Ealdor, sneaking about the cells."

"Did he give a name?" Arthur asked at once.

The guard threw him a bemused look, but spoke to Balinor when he replied, "It's one of the prisoners Lord Merlin freed, my lord." The next two words were filled with disgust, "The blacksmith."

Balinor checked with Arthur, "Friend or foe?"

"Friend," Arthur replied firmly.

"Bring him here, then," Balinor ordered.

Elyan was hauled into the tent by guards and pushed onto his knees in front of them. His eyes immediately went to Arthur and he could see the relief in Elyan's face at seeing him whole and unharmed.

"Release him and step outside," Balinor told the guards, then motioned at Elyan to get up.

"Sire," he said with a quick bow of the head, then looked Arthur over. He took in his chainmail and Excalibur, connecting the dots. "You are… well?"

Arthur grasped his arm in a firm greeting. "Yes. As you undoubtedly have guessed, I've come here of my own accord. What brings you here?"

"I've come to tell you something," Elyan replied. He cast a careful look around. "It's about your father." He hesitated again, then said vaguely, "He might no longer be of sound mind!"

"Has Uther ever been?" commented Forwin snidely.

Arthur ignored him. "If this is about the king moving his troops to the Red Ravine, you can speak freely, Elyan. They know all about it and we are already talking strategy."

Elyan stared at him, then let his eyes roam over the room, maps and warriors included. "Strategy? You're not planning a counter-attack, sire, are you?" he said, sounding tense. "Against Camelot?"

"We're talking mobilisation," he replied and Elyan's face fell, undoubtedly coming to the wrong conclusion. Hurriedly, Arthur continued, "But from what I heard, my father isn't planning a battle, but a both-sided slaughter. Believe me, I have no illusions that this battle should ever take place if we want a future for Camelot." He turned towards Balinor. "All of Camelot. Don't you agree, Lord Balinor?"

Balinor returned his gaze evenly. "I must plan a defence," he returned. "I agree another solution would be preferable, Great One."

Elyan's eyes grew round at the strange honorific, but he didn't comment on it when he said, "Another solution?"

"Peace." It was the first time Merlin spoke up. Of course it would be on the topic of reconciliation. "The war must end, and it must end without further bloodshed."

"Uther clearly didn't get the message," Forwin said derisively, just as Togor commented, "Peace? Get your head out of the clouds!"

"What's the alternative?" Merlin retorted, voice heated. "You'd rather have all of our people slaughtered in this senseless battle?"

"There can be no peace if Uther razes every last of our villages and shoots down our dragons," Balinor said, voicing a thought Arthur had already had himself. "Great One, if you have a concrete plan to prevent this battle, I'm willing to listen and work with you towards peace." A new round of murmurs broke out among the commanders, but Balinor spoke right over them, "But I cannot and will not stand by and watch Uther march into our lands to slaughter our people. We must prepare to take a stand."

"I understand," Arthur replied. "And I will aid you with your plan with the best of my knowledge and abilities." He turned back towards Elyan, who looked equal amounts hopeful about peace and alarmed about Arthur working with the other side. "How are you here? You must be expected elsewhere."

Elyan shifted. "I was supposed to rally at the Ravine," he admitted and didn't meet Arthur's eyes.

"You defected?" he translated. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Leon is covering for me," Elyan explained hurriedly, then squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. "Sire, your father's plan is madness. Even if he makes it past Lord Balinor's defences and pushes on to Ealdor, how many men will be left to claim it? And he's leaving the borders wide open, too! It's all but an invitation for the likes of Mercia or Essetir! I don't regret defying my orders over this." His eyes turned pleading. "Sire, please come back with me! Nobody at Camelot actually believes you have abandoned us. Lord Agravaine hinted to Leon that the council might be willing to instate you as Prince Regent if I find you alive and well! You can pull out of this battle as soon as you have taken control!"

"There's no time for a lengthy process like that," Arthur replied. "From what I heard, the attack might be imminent."

"Less than four days," Elyan confirmed.

"You know the council," Arthur told him. "People will be dead by the time they have come to any sort of binding decision. Besides, my father would not give up without a fight. He's still able-bodied, not feeble." He fixed the knight with a firm look. "I can't come with you."

"Sire!" Elyan protested at once. "You can't actually mean to stay here?"

Arthur's heart squeezed at the idea that Elyan might think him a traitor, but he pushed on, "I want you to go to the Ravine as you were ordered to and follow your king's commands."

Elyan stared at him. "But— but what about you?"

Arthur placed both his hands on the knight's shoulders. "Elyan, your first duty is to Camelot, not me. I won't see you jeopardise your good standing and honour in a misguided attempt to prove your loyalty to me. Return. Leave the rest to me. You know as well as I do that I do not have it in me to take up a sword against men of Camelot if worse comes to worse. Never fear that! But if I fail and this battle takes place, it doesn't matter on which side of the Ravine you'll stand. You'll die either way, and I'd rather it be with honour."

Elyan bowed his head in defeat. "Yes, sire."

Arthur looked at Balinor. "Can you grant him safe passage back to the front?"

Balinor nodded. Arthur bid Elyan good-bye, then the knight was escorted from the tent by some guards.

"So, you won't take up that mighty sword against Camelot?" Forwin asked derisively, gesturing at Excalibur.

"No," Arthur confirmed. "You can't ask that of me. But I won't use it against you, either." He shifted his eyes to Balinor. "I have made my decision. I will help you with your defences. We need to show my father that you can hold your own. Perhaps he will back down from this battle then."

Balinor nodded and waved Arthur over to the table. Some of the commanders had already rolled out another map and started to place some pins.

This was it, then. In a bid to save Camelot and broker peace, he would be standing next to Balinor and his dragon warriors and tell them all of Camelot's military secrets.

Gods help him, but what had his life become?