This is somehow my first Merlin fic...even though the show ended years ago. Please don't kill me! In my defense, I was barely eight when the show ended.

I wouldn't have known this show even existed if the fandom wasn't still alive, so props to you (and random youtube recommendations). So now that I know enough about the show, I decided to contribute a little something.

Read and review!

Summary: An AU to the Last Dragonlord, in which Gaius doesn't tell Merlin who his father is, and Balinor finds out a different way. AKA a fic that includes a long forgotten love story, a magic reveal, an outsmarted king, and Gaius's eyebrow.

Balinor finds her outside, feeding the birds that liked to flock up in the area. He takes the time to admire her natural beauty before she catches him, giving him a knowing smile.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous of them," she teases, gesturing to the birds at her feet.

"And what if I am?" he asks.

"Well," she walks up to him, "turns out I don't know you as well as I thought I did." She looks up at him with a mock pout on her face.

"It is quite reasonable," he muses with an exaggerated nod. "I have barely been here a year."

"And yet, it feels that we have known one another for much longer," she finishes, giving him a short but loving kiss.

When they finish, he wraps her up in his arms, not planning to let go anytime soon. Together, they looks out at the forest surrounding them, reveling in the peace and serenity here. Camelot seemed so far away.

"Hunith," he says softly, the thought seeming to come out of nowhere, "what would have happened if I wasn't a wanted man?"

"What do you mean?" she asks with a frown. But her eyes still shown with the happiness from before.

"Would we have stayed here forever? Had children? Died here in our old age?"

She doesn't show any outward expression of surprise, and he wonders if she had been wondering the same thing.

"Well...we would have certainly started a family. A girl and a boy, hopefully. And I think we would've been happy. So happy."

He smiles, caught up in that dream that would probably never happen. But for now, he could hope.

"And if we did have children, what would you name them?" he asks her.

"I'm not sure about a girl name, but I think I'd name our son Merlin. I have always been fond of those birds."

"A lovely name, indeed."

But then Uther had found out where he resided, and shattered this life full of hope and happiness. The life he never knew he had wanted until Hunith had come into his life. (Or rather, him into hers.) The life he had wished for with all his being.

They had never had a chance, had they?

He finds it quite fitting that the first person he's had an actual conversation with in years is named Merlin. It's almost as if fate is trying to tell him something.

But he buries the memories, shoves them far into the recesses of his mind. He doesn't want to remember.

Both Merlin and 'Lancelot' (ahem, Uther Pendragon's son) attempt to convince him to help Camelot. But why should he, when her king had hunted down his kind and destroyed his life?

And really, he had healed the prince's life when he had had all the reason not to. If anything they should owe him.

Unfortunately, his resolve falters when Merlin mentions Gaius. Gaius. It had been so long ago when he had helped him to escape. Balinor knows that he would always be indebted to the kind and gentle physician.

"A good man," he ends up saying instead. And then they leave, anger evident on both faces.

This is when he really thinks it over. The way the boy had spoken ("The nobility of dragonlords!"), it seemed that Gaius had much confidence in him. Confidence that he didn't deserve.

Not if you help them.

He has a newfound resolve to follow the pair.

Balinor has never been adept at farming. He's quite handy with a blade, even more so when whittling wood. But he's entirely hopeless when it comes to these kinds of things.

He hears Hunith behind him, attempting to muffle her laughter, and stands up, dirt covering his clothes.

"What?" he asks with a sheepish expression and raised eyebrows. (Nothing compared to Gaius's, though.)

"Here, let me help."

Instead of handing her the hoe, he smothers her in his embrace, effectively getting dirt all over her.

"Balinor!" she shrieks, gently pushing him away. "You're such a...dollophead!"

"Dollophead?"

"Yes, dollophead."

"Did you just make that up? Is that even a real word?"

"If I say it, then it must be a real word," she answers him, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

"What does it mean, then?"

"It implies that your head is rather small." She laughs at his fake expression of hurt, grabbing the hoe and proceeding to do proper farming.

And despite all the dirt smudged on her face, he doesn't think she's ever looked more beautiful.

Balinor manages to catch up to them with little difficulty, mostly because of their excessively loud bantering. He thinks Merlin to be either the bravest or the stupidest manservant ever in order to continually insult the crown prince. (On second thought, they seem more like friends, which gives him a newfound respect for Arthur. However, as time goes on, he ends up labeling both as stupid, and wonders what Uther must think of the pair.)

When they finally catch him following them, he mentions people helping him to escape and a debt that must be payed. Arthur's brow furrows while Merlin nods with understanding. It makes Balinor wonder how much the boy knows.

Not enough, apparently. For Balinor soon deduces that he is more than he seems.

"You dollophead!" Merlin exclaims.

Balinor promptly chokes on his water, but none of them notice in their bickering over...something. He honestly doesn't know, at this point.

"Now, what say, is a dollophead, Merlin?"

"In two words?"

"Yes."

"Prince Arthur."

If Balinor hadn't been so distracted with the past, he probably would've snorted at the exchange. As it was, he hadn't, so the only one suffering under the prince's glare was Merlin.

Dollophead? he thinks, repeating the word again and again in his head. He doesn't quite know what to think of it. He's fairly certain Hunith was the only one who used the word since she was the one who invented it...but then, how was this possible?

Perhaps she didn't invent it? Balinor highly doubts that. Then Merlin must know Hunith in some way, right?

The boy intrigues Balinor. He has the name, 'Merlin', of all things! He insists on calling his master a 'dollophead'!

And though Balinor tries to chalk it up to mere coincidence, there is a small part of him that still manages to hope. (Because, if anything, life has taught him not to hope.) It hopes that...maybe, this is Hunith's child. Not just Hunith's child, his child. He and Hunith had had that one night, after all. That night before he left had been filled with sadness, but also love. Maybe this was the result of that one night.

Hunith probably remarried, he thinks, trying to drown out his hope. It has been a while, and he wouldn't put it past her. He would want her to move on.

But now that the thought that THIS MAY BE HIS CHILD is in his head, he can't help but notice so much more. How Merlin's eyes seem to have the same blue color as Hunith's. How his unruly black hair and ears that stick out seem to match his own features. How he seems to have Hunith's kindness, and Balinor's lack of respect for authority.

He can't unsee it now.

So when Arthur orders Merlin to gather firewood, he begins a light interrogation of the prince.

"The two of you seem to be more than servant and master. One could even say you were friends, if they did not know your status."

"Well...yes. Merlin, he is very loyal, for a reason I can not fathom. He is an idiot, but there are times when he has great wisdom." He meets Balinor's eyes. "But my father would not approve of this closeness between us. You, of all people, should know how...controlling he is."

Balinor simply nods, for what more could be said of the Great Purge?

"Don't tell Merlin I said that. He'll never let me hear the end of it," Arthur finishes in that tone only a royal could perfect.

He chuckles. "Tell me, is he from Camelot? He doesn't seem like it."

"No. He hails from a small village in Lot's Kingdom. Ealdor, it is called. Perhaps you've heard of it." Arthur seems to wince at a memory that captures his attention.

He tries not to let his surprise show. "I don't believe I have. How did he come to be in Camelot?"

"His mother sent him to apprentice with Gaius, the court physician whom you apparently know. I believe Gaius is his uncle."

He attempts to keep up the conversation in a nonchalant way. "Do you know if he has any brothers or sisters?"

Arthur narrows his eyes. "Why so many questions about Merlin?" There is a protective air around the prince that Balinor does not want to breach.

Apparently, he hadn't been as subtle as he had thought. "Just...curiosity. He seems well-versed in insults."

"Ah, that's just Merlin for you. Never knows when to keep his mouth shut. As far as I know, he has no siblings. However, he does have a very sweet mother, Hunith, whom I have had the pleasure of meeting."

"And his father?" Balinor waits with bated breath.

Arthur shrugs. "Merlin's never known him. Bastard left before he was born."