A/N: This chapter was so horribly hard to write. I knew what I wanted to write in it, but it was just so hard because I'm trying to make sure everyone knows how much every action invests into the future of either Merlin Series 1 or Other Version of Events, depending on which you're reading this as a prequel as. I've worked it out... apart from a few minor details, it works as a prequel it either or... P.S. I know Uther, Hunith and Balinor seem a little OOC, but they're progressing into what they are in the show/OVoE... :) Happy reading. mrlnfan, thanks for reading it still! I'm sorry it took so long!
Love, Hatred, Loyalty & Betrayal
A Letter to myself,
One day, in the near or distant future, I am going to look back on my actions today and weep. I am going to know that all my pain and all my miseries began on this day and I am going regret all my actions.
All I can say if that if I read this again and I realise, this was the day it all broke, that I have no one but myself to blame. I broke and allowed Uther to control me, just this once. I allowed him to use and scorn my magic. I allowed him to use me to manipulate my best friend.
Goloris, Ygraine, I am sorry. Balinor and your son, I cannot explain how deeply I already regret my actions and how they will harm you.
My justification is that I have my reasons, and they seem more insufficient with each passing hour.
Dear Gods. What have I done?
Nimueh.
Sayard was walking through Camelot Gardens with Balinor, the two striding together and chatting idly. Sayard knew these moments with his son were becoming numbered. Ector was already too old for such things as walks with his father. He would roll his eyes at the mention of it. But Ector had thought himself to be too old for such things since he was seventeen, and very rarely indulged Sayard's whims. He was much too proud of himself to be caught strolling through the gardens with his father.
Balinor was different.
Balinor was softer than Ector and somewhat more attached. As he was the youngest, the other children had spoilt him and often treated him younger than he was. He had often fought and begged them to treat him as an equal. It failed, most of the time. But his bond with Sayard was strong and still very childlike.
While Ector and Sayard could disagree until they were blue in the face, Balinor rarely argued against him. The only time he truly did was when it came to Sayard's safety and protection. Balinor thought his Dragonlord father left himself defenceless far too much but Sayard insisted Balinor would not be happy until Sayard was locked up in a tower. His son had worried about Sayard's mortality since he was eight and realised what becoming a Dragonlord meant for Sayard. He still remembered waking in the middle of the night as Balinor howled and how he had to clutch him to his chest as the little boy begged his father never to leave him.
The thought of the pain on small Balinor's face made Sayard reached his arm over and patted the fully grown Balinor on the shoulder, earning a smile from his youngest. "Have you seen Ector this morning?" he asked.
Balinor nodded. "I saw him on his way out to see Nuriel." Sayard narrowed his eyes. Balinor laughed. "It's fine. He wouldn't hurt him. He treats him like he treats me."
"I know that," Sayard sighed. "It's not his safety that I worry me. Nuriel is just as bad as Ector, and I recently heard him discussing how Market City is a day's flight away. Your brother likes ale just a little too much."
Stiffening slightly, Balinor said, "He doesn't like Market City ale. Not anymore."
The old Dragonlord squeezed his son's shoulder. "It's alright, Bal. He's dead now."
"And you are going to kill more," he said, his voice tightening in disapproval.
Sighing, Sayard knew the argument that was about to erupt. Despite having no intact memory of her, Balinor was far too much like his mother and could not let things go. "We're having a peaceful walk now."
"Father I–"
"No," Sayard said sternly. "There is no discussion. I am going, Balinor. I am not leaving my people to fight for themselves."
"And what about leaving your sons?" Balinor countered. The old man groaned and rubbed his eyes feeling so much older than his fifty-two years. He must have looked it too because Balinor went on. "Knights of your age have retired! Why can't you?"
"You cannot retire from being a Dragonlord."
"Or being a father, or being a Lord. But you can be killed and get torn away from your other duties. Or do you not care about us?" Balinor snapped furiously.
Sayard growled and had to hold himself back from slapping his son. Never in his life had he raised so much as a hand to them but at Balinor's accusations, it was very tempting. "How dare you accuse me of such things," he hissed. He must have looked livid because Balinor sunk back. "I am doing this for you. So you and Ector are safe. So your children don't have to worry about being hunted, and no child of a Dragonlord does. You are the one who told me that no one should have to die like that. What would you do if I didn't go and it ended up being your brother?"
Balinor turned his head in shame and stared at the ground. The tension in the air caused by Sayard's anger started to scatter like falling stones, leaving both of them nervous. It was the first time he'd been furious at Balinor since he was fifteen and was almost killed after following them into battle. "Is it so bad that I don't want you to end up like that either?" Balinor finally asked, looking up with watering eyes.
With a heavy sigh of relief that his son wasn't upset in him, Sayard stepped towards him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Balinor clutched him back and rested his head on his shoulder, closing eyes. "I won't. I promise this is the last time I'll leave to fight for the Dragonlord's."
Balinor nodded and agreed then pulled away, wiping his eyes hastily. "I'll hold you to that, Old Man."
Sayard huffed at the nickname. "Ector," he muttered, knowing it was his eldest influence.
"Talking about my beautiful self?" Father and son turned their heads to see the Knight and Court Advisor strolling up from the south entrance of the Garden. His green eyes sparkled under the bright sun as he joined them and Sayard knew his son had been up to no good.
"What have you done now, Ec?" Sayard smirked.
"Don't know what you're talking about, my Lord."
"Oh, now I know you've done something wrong."
Ector smirked then cupped the back of Balinor's neck and dragged him closer until he could wrap his arm around his shoulders. Balinor frowned, almost as worried as his father. "So. Who here has had breakfast?"
"Ector?"
"You probably don't want to have anything from the markets."
"Ector?"
Ector pouted. "Father, why don't you trust me?"
Sayard snorted. "Because I know you."
Clutching his chest dramatically, he staggered, and Balinor chuckled, clutching his brother to steady him. "You've wounded me. Broken my heart. I don't know how I'll go on. Bury me on the southern hill, facing the sunset."
"Ector," Sayard said for the final time, pronouncing each syllable as though it was its own word.
Scratching the back of his head, Ector sighed. "Alright, alright. But, if you must know, I had no idea that the chickens would freak out that much or that it was that hard to recover eggs."
Balinor and Sayard exchanged confused looks, blinking in surprise but were interrupted by a horrible yelling. "What do you mean, it is just the way things are?" A woman's voice screeched. "Things are not just like that Goloris!"
The men exchanged looks and followed the voice around the corner to find, much to their great surprise, the softly spoken, mildly tempered Ygraine, looking positively demonic as she shouted at Goloris in the public courtyard. "Well maybe if you stopped living in a fantasy land, you'd realise that I bound myself to the knighthood first! So I cannot knowingly betray them!" Goloris's face was red from shouting, his eyes somehow bulging out more than usual and his great height looming dangerously over Ygraine.
"Who was asking you to betray them?" Ygraine shouted, then stamped her foot. The three men who had known Ygraine for some years all shook their head in surprise. It was a very ill-tempered thing for Ygraine to do and ferociously out of character. "I only asked you if you loved me more than you loved the knights!"
"What is going on here?" Ector asked his brother and father quietly.
"I do not have the slightest idea," Balinor replied.
"Of course I couldn't! They are the knights, my brothers and you are nothing but a harpy!" A gasp from the side alerted Sayard to someone else being in the courtyard. A little further behind Ygraine was Hunith, her hands over her mouth. Balinor and Ector noticed this too, and their attention shifted momentarily.
The next thing they all heard was a loud slap. The men switched their heads back and reeled back. Though they hadn't seen the hit, Goloris's face was turned to the side, one cheek already red. "You wrench!" Goloris rose his hand to strike back, but before he could, the three men rushed forward and intervened.
Balinor lifted Ygraine up from around her waist and tugged her back while it took both Sayard and Ector to hold the giant Goloris back. Ygraine was crying, and Goloris looked furious. "Here!" she screamed, reaching around Balinor to tear her ring off her finger. "Take it! I don't want to marry a beast such as you. You are heartless and cruel, and I hate you!" she sobbed. "I hate you Goloris Le Fay. Hate you!" She ripped herself away from Balinor and ran off in the opposite direction, hands clutching her face.
Goloris tugged against Ector and Sayard to go after her with a vicious scowl, but it was too late. After locking eyes with Hunith who was crying, Balinor looked to his father and brother and decided they could handle the knight. He went over to Hunith and knelt beside her. "Hunith? Are you alright?" he asked gently.
She shook her head and threw herself into Balinor's arms, knotting her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and dragged her closer as she sobbed into his shoulder. "They were so in love just yesterday. What happened in one day?"
"It'll be alright. I'm sure it's just a temporary thing."
"He tried to hit her," Hunith whispered, pulling away, so her watery eyes locked with his. "That's not Goloris." Balinor could see Goloris, still struggling to go after his possible ex-fiancée to fight. At the sight of the Knight, he was inclined to agree with her.
"Stay here." He kissed her cheek and went over to his father and brother.
The two were struggling. "Let me at her," Goloris growled, lunging forward.
"What has gotten into you?" Sayard demanded. His Dragonlord timber rumbled in his throat and he threw Goloris back with a strength none of the others could muster without magic. The Knight fell back on his arse and skidded over the yellow dirt, causing a plume. "That is your fiancée, Ygraine. You love her more than yourself."
"How could I love a woman such as she?" Goloris shouted. "She who torments me daily with my comings and goings. I was talking to a serving girl this morning and then she chases me around the castle asking how many of my illegitimate children the woman sired! She's crazy I tell you!"
"That is no excuse for your actions," Sayard warned him.
"She slapped me!"
"You did call her a harpy, mate," Ector pointed out.
Sayard turned his head sharply to his son to make it clear his input was not welcome. Ector slumped his shoulders so Sayard could focus his attention on Goloris once again. "How about we go inside and calm down. Then maybe you can talk to Ygraine later and apologise when both of you are calmer." He picked up the ring that was tossed and handed it to Goloris. He took his family heirloom and ran a finger over it.
"It will make no difference. I will not marry such a wicked woman," Goloris hissed, an unnatural anger flashing in his eyes. He turned on his heel and stormed up to the castle alone.
Sayard looked at Ector who was already nodding. "Goloris, wait up!" The younger Knight chased after him and only stopped running when he finally met Goloris's long strides.
Turning to Balinor, Sayard saw Hunith sitting in the courtyard. Her face was buried in hands as she cried. He was going to ask his son to go after Ygraine but knew it was no use. He would be more worried about the young common girl. "Take care of Hunith. I shall go find Ygraine."
Balinor nodded quickly. He sat beside Hunith and pulled her into a comforting hug. Sayard watched them momentarily as they spoke in quiet murmurs. Hunith was explaining all that happened, but Sayard much rather he found out from Ygraine. He hoped that maybe she was much more level headed than Goloris at the moment.
He followed her tracks through the maze in the garden. He knew that Ygraine loved the garden and would often find her hiding inside the maze, lost in thought or wonder. He had never seen the Lady cry before. She was filled with too much joy for such things.
"Ygraine?" Sayard paused as he heard a hushed second. "Ygraine, what happened?"
Ygraine and her new acquaintance were separated from Sayard by a wall of ferns and neither could see each other. But Sayard did have magic and waved his hand over the ferns to see through them as though they were glass. The sight he saw, caused him to frown.
Uther stood there, looking stunned to find Ygraine fall in his arms. "Why are you crying? What is the matter?"
"G-Goloris…" she sobbed into his shirt.
"Did something happen to him?" Uther asked quickly.
She shook her head. "He…" she cried harder and squeezed Uther tight around the waist, burying her head in his neck.
Waving his arms back over the ferns, having seen enough, Sayard had a horrible feeling in his stomach. You wouldn't, would you Uther? Love spells were dangerous things and his stomach turned at the thought of his nephew resorting to one to make Ygraine love him.
If he did, the Ygraine that he knew could be gone. He stumbled back. Uther, you didn't, he thought and, not for the first time, Sayard wondered if he should have a firmer hand in raising the young King.
Dear Ygraine,
I know you have only just left Goloris and I know how much your heart must be breaking, but I feel it is my duty to inform you of my intentions before anyone else steals your love away.
Since I first met you, I have been deeply and utterly in love with you. Your hair, your eyes, your skin… and that is only your beauty. Your wit and your generosity are unmatchable, and there is a reason why you are known as the fairest in all of Camelot. I must contest that maybe you are to be the fairest in all of Albion and even, beyond.
I cannot even explain how hard it was to see you with Goloris for all these years. Despite him being one of my most valued friends, my love for you was all pleasure and the thought of you with another mingled it with pain.
Please meet me on the battlements tonight at sunset, if you feel the same or are willing to try and feel the same things I feel for you, for me.
If you try and I love me, I can promise you riches and kingdoms beyond your imagination but more than that, I can guarantee that above everything in my Kingdom, my country, my people and even the most precious of stones and magic, that I will love you and cherish you more.
Yours forever and forever again,
Uther
I think I've gotten the hang of this...
"Hunith?" The young girl turned around and looked at her father, sitting by himself at the table with a soup bowl in front of him. "Let me look at you."
Blushing, Hunith spun around in her dress slowly so her father could study every stitch. The fabric was in a deep blue to match her eyes. It had a square collar layered with silver stitching and shimmering grey silks. "One of Ygraine's designs?" he asked.
Hunith shook her head sadly, sliding the material between her forefinger and middle finger. "No. I haven't seen her for over a week. No one has, really, except for the king." She frowned, lost in a thought Owen couldn't hear.
Before Ygraine's shocking fight over nothing with Goloris a little over a week ago, the Lady hadn't had any interest in the King. Now, it was becoming harder to tear them apart.
"Who made your dress then?" Her face softened. Her father's concern was never for court gossip or anything of the sort. Owen only ever cared for her.
"Julia, one of the serving girls's in the castle. Well, we made it together." she smiled lightly then her face turned red. "Balinor seemed to think I needed a dress for tonight and sent silks to her. When I found out, I felt horrible for the girl. Making a dress for a town girl she barely knew hardly seemed fair. So I assisted. She taught me to cut material the proper way."
Owen smiled. "You, my dear, are becoming too smart for you own good."
"Papa," she chided lightly. She watched him sip on more soup and felt her stomach turn guiltily. "You know, you are invited tonight. You are always invited."
"I have work early in the morning."
"But I bought you a dress shirt and everything."
"With your hard earned money from assisting Gaius and Alice. I know. I told you not to."
Hunith crossed the room with the grace she was taught and hugged him from behind, tightly. "But I did, and it would be a shame for you not to enjoy it." She bit her lip, but Owen was unwavering. "I wish you would join us one evening."
Owen took her hand in his hand raised it to his mouth, kissing the back. "I don't think it would be appropriate. You can blend amongst them. You are young and impressionable. I'm afraid I don't know how to act amongst the nobles and am too old to learn."
"They are just people, Papa."
"They are that too." He dragged her closer and kissed her cheek. "Now, before you leave I need you to sit and listen to what I have to say." He pulled her down next to him on the bench and sighed. "I think I have done you a great wrong, my daughter. A terrible wrong and it has been plaguing my dreams for the last few days. I feel the only way to make amends is to tell you."
"Papa, what is it?" Hunith reached out her small hand and touched his cheek. "Whatever it is, it cannot be that horrible."
"It denies you a future you deserve," he said sadly then cleared his throat, trying to find the words. "Sir Arnold came the other day and had an interesting proposition for me. More correctly, he had a proposal for you."
Hunith wondered what the proposal could be, but at her father's intense stare she realised that it was just that. A proposal.
"Sir Arnold wishes to marry me?" she spluttered out, standing up quickly and darting to the other side of the cottage. "What? Why?"
"My dear, you're a beautiful girl and brilliant. Prince's should be pleading for your hand."
Hunith let out a strangled cry. "Papa!"
Owen sighed. "I knew you would be mad, but let me explain…"
"Mad? Of course, I'm mad. He came to you and asked for my hand without giving me the slightest clue to his feelings. You did say no, didn't you?!"
Owen's brow furrowed. "Well, of course, but I thought you might be disappointed."
"Only disappointed I didn't get to tell him myself," she huffed. "He's never so much as spoken to me. He deliberately ignores me at every function. At least Thaddeus had the courtesy of dancing with me and coming to me first."
"Who is Thaddeus?" Owen asked, concern growing.
Hunith blushed red and shrugged her shoulders high. "No one… I mean he is somebody… he's a squire… who seems to fancy me and… asked… for my hand… when I turned fifteen."
Owen sunk in his chair. "And you said…?"
"No, of course!" she sat on the bed across from the bench. "Thaddeus is kind and handsome and very sweet but… but he doesn't have my heart." She looked at her hands and picked off random specks of dust, forcing herself not to see her fathers knowing gaze.
"Your heart belongs to another."
"No," she said stubbornly.
Her father stood up from his bench and sad beside his daughter again, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "So if any more men come and ask for your hand…?"
"Refuse," she snapped.
"What if it's Sir Ector?"
"He's in love with Nimueh, Papa," she snorted. "And it's Ector."
"What about Sir Tristan?"
"He would never…" she laughed.
"Lord Agravaine."
Her eyes darkened. "If you dare…"
"Balinor?" Hunith's heart stuttered over the name and her throat dried. "So we have a winner then." He squeezed her tighter. "You are in love with the future Lord Ambrosius."
"It's not what you think…" she murmured. "He would never… Balinor see's me as nothing more than a child."
"You are a child, my dear." Owen kissed her forehead. "My child at that. It was one of the reasons I refused the likes of Sir Arnold, despite the generous offer. Though I must say, you deserve every treasure and more. Men should be paying through their noses just to be in your graceful presence."
"Refuse all their likes," Hunith muttered. "I do not wish to marry unless I love him." She stood up and fixed her dress. "On that note, I am late."
"Hurry. Go." He nudged Hunith along. "But my dear… The Knights are one thing. They can marry between the classes but… Balinor will be a future Lord of Camelot. There are only five, and all of them marry nobles like each other. Then there is the fact he is a Dragonlord. The High Council must approve their wives. Love or no love, Balinor is a risky choice to bet your heart on."
"I'm not betting Papa," she groaned. "It's a childish crush. I will move on," she murmured. "Anyway, didn't you say Prince's should be knocking our door down?" She couldn't leave her father angrily. She hated even to think she could, though they had their moments.
"They should be," Owen said lightly. "But not all are brave enough to fight generations of stations, and they don't deserve you either."
With a grim smile, she kissed her father's cheek and left the house without another word. On the way up to the castle, Hunith decided to dispell all thoughts of marriage and Balinor from her mind.
It was the night for Sayard to leave and it had come all too soon, Hunith believed. She got there just in time, making it into the room before the King did, and sat between Balinor and Ector, the elder having agreed to escort her.
She found that strange. Balinor and Ygraine always organised an escort for her, but in two years it had never been Balinor. Usually, it was Agravaine, because of how close the two close they were in age and Agravaine never actually got along with people. He had warmed to Hunith considerably over the years. He even managed to greet her once and force a smile instead of his usual scowl. Don't think about it, Hunith, she ordered herself.
The farewell feast was filled with the more people than his welcoming one, Lords and Ladies coming from all corners of Camelot, and some even from Albion. There were a few Dragonlords, and Balinor pointed them out. The feast was more to farewell the Lord before he went into battle. Though there were more people, the room felt less festive and tenser than the welcome feast. Goloris and Ygraine were sitting on separate ends of the table, and Tristan kept shooting furious looks at his ex-friend. At the same time, Vivienne wasn't sitting beside the king as the King's fiancé should but was rather forced to sit beside Goloris, much to her displeasure. Ygraine sat there instead, whispering with Uther from the side of her mouth and giggling at the words he said.
The whole situation distressed Hunith. Watching Ygraine and Goloris having it out at each other when they clearly had been soul mates was disturbing. Now, Ygraine spent so much time with the King…
The feast went as planned. Everyone chatted as the food came out and if anyone else noticed the iciness between Goloris and Ygraine, they didn't comment. Soon enough the dancing began with Uther offering his hand to Ygraine.
Everyone bit their tongue as Vivienne's eyes narrowed, her fury palpable. The goblet in her hand made of silver and gold cracked as magic flashed through her violet irises. Nimueh reached over and placed a calming hand over her fingers, shaking her head. Hunith was the only one to notice this though as everyone stared at the King and Ygraine, their hands pressed together tightly as the spun around the dance floor.
"My lady?" Hunith jolted and turned her head. Behind her was Arnold, holding his hand out to offer her a dance.
She blushed, but not from embarrassment. Fury burnt in her chest as she wondered how he could have the nerve to ask her father to marry her, get rejected and still offer to dance with her. Was it not enough that he proposed to her via her father behind his back?
"I don't think so," she said, turning her back to him.
Ector and Balinor both looked at her with mild confusion. Hunith never rejected an offer to dance. Arnold was slowly turning red behind her, his curling Venetian blonde hair standing out on top of his red face. "I… You can't refuse me."
Hunith shot him back a look, her blue eyes sparking like flint. "I think you should know by now, that I can."
His eyes flashed just as dangerously, and he gritted his teeth. The realisation that Owen told Hunith of his proposal dawning on him. "Please, don't make a scene," he growled in a low voice, and Hunith only then realised people were staring at them expectantly. "I just want to talk." Her fury melted into embarrassment and slowly, she stood, allowing Arnold to withdraw her seat for her.
As she gathered her skirts, so she wouldn't fall over, but a hand around her wrist stilled her. She looked down to her arm and followed the long fingers to the even longer body of the tall, lean man she had wished asked her to dance. "You don't have to dance with him," Balinor murmured. Concern flashed in his eyes and her narrowed the slightly at Arnold. "Not if you are uncomfortable."
The Lords and Ladies in the room were all looking pointedly away, turning their heads and bodies in other directions from them. All the while their eyes kept darting back to the scene. "Just one dance." She forced a smile on her face. "Then you can cut in?"
He agreed, and she allowed Arnold to lead her out to the floor where most of the people were already stepping to the beat and walking around each other. As she passed by Uther and Ygraine, she couldn't help but notice that the King's face radiated with light and joy. Not since Hunith had joined Camelot had she seen him that happy. But the strange look on Ygraine's face was not the same she wore when she was with Goloris. But Hunith could not deny that it was happy too.
Arnold's hand slipping into hers drew her attention away from the King. The Knight stepped closer, and they were face to face and almost cheek to cheek. "You're quite tall for your age," Arnold commented.
"You're quite daft for yours." Hunith and Arnold swapped hands, and they turned the other way. Over his shoulder she saw Nimueh fervently talking to Goloris, her eyes flying between Ygraine and Uther and the Knight.
Arnold glared at her. "You can't speak to me like that," he bit out. "Despite your constant presence amongst us, you're not a noble."
"Yet you were willing to stoop from your lofty station to marry me," she drawled. "Such a blessing."
"Well obviously I was a little desperate," he snapped back, both of their tongues ready to argue. Hunith was angry at him for going behind her back and asking her father for her hand before he even spoke to her and Arnold was mad at her for making him look bad.
In the background, Nimueh had gone back to Vivienne and was hissing in her rear. Vivienne looked up at Goloris, her face turning maddeningly calm and devious the more Nimueh spoke.
Hunith bristled when Arnold wrapped his arm across her stomach, and his fingers dug into her waist. Her arm crossed his torso similarly and stood dangerously near his sword. "I may be a simple peasant to you, Sir Arnold, but you are an arrogant coward."
Her words enraged the Knight more, as his face turned into a scowl and his teeth gnashed together. "Coward? I was younger than you when I crossed Camelot and its borders by myself, avoiding bandits, slave traders and men made of filth to keep myself alive and to pass on messages to Uther. I fought for Camelot and helped secure it for peasants like you. I am no coward, Adhan."
They twisted sharply, arms swapping and their direction changing too, and the anger between them rippled over to other dancers who turned their heads to watch what was going on, though no one could hear their conversation. "That is brave, and I do not doubt your heroics." He deserved credit for his efforts clearly where credit was due, but it did not stop her conclusion from being true. "You are a good warrior, Sir Arnold but when it comes to matters of being a man. You. Are. A. Coward." The dance finished and partners were pulling away from each other, but Arnold only tightened his grip when Hunith went to move. "If you had asked to court me first before demanding my hand, I may have considered you to be different. But you took the coward's way out and offered my father riches. I am very lucky Father isn't a greedy, uncaring man that he realised a true Knight would express his interest to me first."
Before Arnold could reply, the musicians began a new song, and the dance changed. Balinor appeared on light feet, holding out his hand to Hunith. "My lady," he offered, and Arnold stared at her for a moment more than was proper before spinning her back into him, so she settled with her back to his chest and her mouth beside his ear.
"We'll continue this later," he said carefully, then spun her again more delicately into Balinor's awaiting hand. "Lord Ambrosius. Hunith." He bowed shortly before walking off to find himself a drink.
It was only then that Balinor stuttered. "Shall we… shall we sit?"
Hunith's anger smouldered at the blush in his cheeks, and she shook her head. "No. You promised me a dance."
"I…" he blushed, his ears turning red. "I can't dance."
Hunith laughed, her head tilted back. "Do you not know the footwork, milord?" she asked, falling into an old habit of titles from her embarrassment. He frowned only a little, but she quickly disarmed him with her most charming smile. "I can go slow if you wish but wouldn't that look bad on your behalf if I led?"
His face in a determined expression, only allowing it to be tainted by his amusement. "I know how to dance. But if you want your toes squished…"
Balinor was quick to pull Hunith up to pace on the new dance, both of them falling into it with ease. He was lying apparently. He could dance, but he just didn't think he was any good at it. Her hand rested on his shoulder, his on her waist as they followed the quick steps around the floor, skipping for the most part.
Her hair flew around her, and she was staring at Balinor with unmasked adoration, only he laughed and mistook it for surprise. "I was forced to take lessons, you know. I'm just horrible at it."
Hunith smiled. "You're an excellent dancer, Balinor."
He rolled his eyes. "You just don't want to offend me."
"No. Really." She matched his eyes with her own, ducking her head slightly so she could see from his downcast set. "We've been dancing for almost five minutes now and not a single toe is broken."
He barked out a bit of laughter and then spun her around once one way and twice the other along with all the other dancers. She glimpsed at Ygraine and Uther again, a stupid look of love plastered over both of their faces, Ygraine's more so than Uther's. In fact, her eyes were glazed over, her love burnt so brightly and she looked taken by every action Uther made. Under Balinor's arm, she saw Vivienne and Goloris dancing, both of them hesitant and somewhat angry over the situation and all the while, Nimueh was staring between the couples nervously.
Spinning her again, Hunith sighted the entire room in a whirlwind until she was steady in Balinor's arms. His palms on her shoulder righted the dizziness and the stilled the spinning world. She saw things crystal clear beneath his fingertips.
Nimueh. Uther and Ygraine. Ygraine and Goloris. Vivienne and Uther. Magic.
It all made sense to Hunith, and she gasped, stepping out of Balinor's arms and into the fog of uncertainty once more. He stopped dancing and called out her name but the blood beat so loud in her ears that she couldn't hear him. Would he do that? Would Uther use magic to force his will upon Ygraine? Would Nimueh do that to her best friend?
She turned her eyes upward and somehow caught Nimueh's eye. The sorceress tilted her head to the side curiously. Hunith's eyes darted to the two couples in question, and when she stared back at Nimueh again, the look on her face confirmed it all. Guilt swam beneath Nimueh's blue eyes and she held herself defensively, one arm over her stomach and the other playing nervously with her necklace, her eyes flickering around in an attempt to deny everything, but she couldn't. Hunith knew.
As Balinor's fingers encased her arm, Hunith's world cleared again, and the fact she wasn't steadily breathing was apparent. As he tightened his grip, her mind narrowed down to a single thought. That she needed to get out of the room before she grabbed her friend's arm and screamed out the treachery, exposing Uther and Nimueh for their act of… was it treason? Was it betrayal?
Ygraine looked so damn happy!
She turned quickly and ran from the Hall, Balinor following her with wild shouts. He only hesitated for a second before rushing after her. He followed her through the castle and found her outside. She was sat on the stone benches in the Gardens, gasping hard with hands pressed against her forehead. "It can't… He wouldn't…"
"Hunith? Hunith, what is it?" He skidded over the gravel and stopped in front of her, kneeling to the ground and gathering her hands in his on her lap. "What's the matter? Are you ill?" Balinor's hand pressed against her forehead and retreated it when he found no warmth.
Her storm blue eyes turned to him, and she was hissing her anger. "Is magic so evil that it creates monsters and madmen?"
He recoiled from her and found it hard to resist the urge to let go of her hands. Magic was such a fundamental part of him, ingrained in his life since birth, that it offended him to hear those words. "Magic is just as good as it is bad," he muttered. "It is how it is used that-"
"Then how come I've only ever seen it destroy?" she snapped. "My home, my village, my people and now this? Now Ygraine and Goloris! What was Uther thinking?"
The feeling that he was missing something burnt through him and he shook his head. "I don't understand."
"That!" Hunith stood up so fast Balinor was convinced the action jarred her knees. "That is not true heartbreak. That is the makings of a spell. People are who are as in love as Ygraine and Goloris do not fall apart so quickly. Nimueh has cast a spell, so their affections are cast upon others. That is why Ygraine is dancing with Uther. I assure you, it won't be long until he calls off his engagement to Vivienne. I suspect by the end of the evening with the way he has insulted her in the past."
Balinor shook his head. "Hunith, I don't understand what you're saying. You are accusing of Uther placing Ygraine under some sort of… of enchantment?"
"Men have done so much more for so much less," she hissed, twisting on her heel to pace the length of the courtyard. Balinor got off of his knees to watch her pint-sized fury stalk back and forth. "Is it only obvious to me? Nimueh now knows I know if that look she gave me is true. How could she betray Ygraine like this?"
His brain only just started catching up to him, and Balinor realised what she was saying. It made his head hurt, but as the pieces started slipping together, forming a pattern in his mind, he realised what she said was true, and he was a fool for not seeing it before.
Balinor had no words. He stuttered something mindlessly to Hunith but it made no sense.
How could Nimueh betray Ygraine? They were the best of friends. Sisters. They loved each other and took care of each other, manipulating the men side by side. It was hard to refuse one of them but refusing both of them when they acted together was downright impossible.
He turned his head and saw Hunith wiping away angry tears as she continued to pace. The women of their small circle of friends had taken it upon themselves to induct Hunith into their life, taking her under their collective wings and making her a Lady of Camelot. Somehow they had made her even more beautiful than she already was, which should have been impossible.
She had always been quietly confident, but now her confidence exuded her and was infectious amongst the nobles. She worked hard but fought harder to be heard, and many of her ideas and thoughts had planted seeds into his and the other Knight's minds and had led to a greater harvest season in the North during the last spring.
It must pain her to know those she's given so much trust and loyalty have betrayed each other. Don't women usually choose sides? Maybe she's not sure who to stand by… But to blame magic? Balinor took a hesitant step towards Hunith, and she froze in the tracks she'd worn into the earth. She turned her head timidly, and Balinor became upfront and crossed the last of the distance and took her hand.
"Come with me," he whispered.
Hunith frowned. "Where are we going, milord?"
He winced at the title but then dragged her along. "Do you trust me? Without a doubt, would you put your life in my hands?"
The young woman only hesitated for the briefest of seconds before the most inaudible of whispered escaped, "Yes." He turned to her, hearing the vulnerability and absolute trust she had in him and was slightly taken aback by her willingness to hand her life over.
"Then come with me."
He withdrew a torch from an iron bucket, left beside the gates of Camelot for such things. Holding the torch high above him, he led her out of Camelot, towards the clearing near a lake where the dragons rested. As her worry grew, the hand within his tightened and tensed but he rubbed gentle circles over her forehand with his thumb.
The trees turned to shadows under the pale moonlight, like long thin spiders legs surrounding and entrapping them. Every sound caused Hunith to flinch and startle, so Balinor dragged her closer until his arm was no longer in her hand but around her shoulders. Her arms moved to his waist and clutched at his shirt. "I do not like the dark," she admitted when a shadow of a branch crossed over her face, upsetting her once again.
He hated the dark too. He hated the forest at night. He hadn't when he was a child, but since that night with the Executioner, everything had made him jump. He was much better at hiding it though and had enough confidence in his magic and fighting that, even though he might have been frightened, he wasn't scared enough to never face the dark again.
He said as much to Hunith, leaning down and pressing his mouth to the top corner of her ear. "Trust me. I'm not too fond of it myself. But I'll keep us safe, and if not our best protection is not too far."
She nodded and tried to be a little more at ease, but he suspected she knew where they were going. Very rarely did Hunith venture out of Camelot for much more than herbs for Gaius and Alice, but she very clearly knew where the Dragons were kept.
As they left the trees and were bathed by the moon, the torchlight didn't seem as necessary, and he cast the stick aside for the time being. In front of them stood three large and imposing figures, all different lengths and colours. They were the three Dragons under his father's direct care, who swore loyalty to the Ambrosius household and served them in equal to Sayard serving the Dragon's. "Balinor." Celosia, the youngest and smallest of the three, bent her head forward and tilted it to the side. "And that strange girl, you're always talking about."
"Celosia," Balinor warned her. "Do not tease."
"I don't tease," she prattled on, raising her head above the trees arrogantly. "I state the obvious. She is strange. There is a very odd energy darting around inside of her, just waiting to be released."
"Celosia," The largest dragon sighed, his voice filled with just as much exasperation as Balinor's had been. He leant his silvery grey neck down to look at Hunith better. She shied away behind Balinor, and he tried not to laugh, but couldn't help the smile on his face. "Hello, little human."
"Hunith, I do not believe you've met my father's dragon, before. Aodh, this is Hunith. Hunith, this is Aodh. He hatched the day after my father was born and brought up alongside him… sort of like very strange brothers."
Nuriel snorted, "Strange indeed." Nuriel was the dragon that Hunith was least comfortable with. He was somewhat blunt like his 'rider' Ector. He and Celosia were of the same age, hatched at the same time when Sayard decided it was best to give his ward a Dragon, more so that the Dragon could look after him. But Ector took his duties as a pseudo-Dragonlord quite seriously and despite the fact Nuriel often disobeyed him just to prove a point, he respected Ector's wishes more out of the sheer loyalty he had for the 'curious little human' as he affectionately called him. He was bright green mostly, with a yellow underbelly that shimmered the same colour as a summer sunset on the lake.
"What are you doing out here so late, my liege. Your father would not approve of you being out here alone so late," Aodh said.
"Which is why I must ask you not to tell him." Balinor tugged Hunith forward and placed his hands on her shoulder to keep her steady. "I come for a favour. My friend Hunith has a problem with magic and Dragons. She's frightened of them."
Underneath his hands, she stiffened and looked up at him, apparently worried about what was to come. "But I think I can convince her otherwise. Before you leave with my father, Aodh, if you could take us for a quick trip…?" He tapered off and bit his lip. Aodh drew back his shoulders as he understood what Balinor was asking and Hunith began to squeak in protest when it dawned upon her what they were about to do.
"Aodh?" Celosia snapped, offended. "I am your keeper!" she insisted. "Why not I?"
"You're a bit temperamental," Nuriel teased. "You like to make patterns in the air. Things that would surely get the girl lose her dinner."
Balinor was reluctant to agree as not to offend Celosia. "Out of the three of you, Aodh is the calmest flier. I want her to enjoy magic, not be frightened of it."
Aodh narrowed his overly large grey eyes, and Hunith backed away into Balinor, for the first time not having an opinion or even minding that the others spoke as if she was not there. Her voice stifled by fright. "This is a most unusual request, Balinor."
"I know, I know but… please, Aodh." Balinor wore his most disarming smile that had gotten him everything he wanted as a child and soon enough, Aodh was sighing and nodding.
"Only this once. But I cannot promise I won't tell your father. Maybe I'll admit it when we're high up in the air, and his life depends on me so he can't order my death." Aodh bent his neck down, and Balinor started forward, but Hunith was stuck to the ground like a statue.
He looked at her and smiled the same way he had at Aodh and whispered, "Didn't you say you trusted me?"
Once her eyes set upon his, all her fear disappeared, and she nodded. He helped her climbed onto Aodh's back then got on behind her, clutching around her waist and bracing himself between the joints on the Dragon's neck, just as his father had taught him. "Can we come?" Nuriel asked.
Balinor shrugged. "I don't see why not. Just don't do anything to shake us, please." Celosia looked annoyed but as Aodh took flight, and Hunith squeaked, she took to the sky too alongside Nuriel.
Hunith leant forward, hardly believing she was on a Dragon and wanted to bury her face away. Only Balinor wouldn't let her. He kept her upright with one arm loosely wrapped around her waist and the other petting Aodh's neck. His chin rested just above her head, and she wanted to scream or have a panic attack - or both - so she shut her eyes before she could see anything but Aodh's neck.
Despite her best efforts, she could feel how high they were. Her stomach was plummeting, and her head spun. She was too far above her natural home of the earth. "Hunith…" She heard a quiet whisper in her ear, but she tried to block out every thought and feeling and go to her 'happy place'. "Hunith, open your eyes." Hands slid over her fingers which were clutched against the dragon's neck. They squeezed her hands, completely encompassing them and pulled them gently away.
It was the way Balinor spoke, whispering his words to make her feel safe and complacent and the warmth of his hands wrapped around hers that got her to open her eyes.
At first, they watered as the wind beat against them, but soon she adjusted. "Oh," she whispered.
She was in the sky. Wherever she turned her head, Hunith could see nothing but the navy heavens, dotted with starlight. Despite her better judgement, she looked down and, strangely, with Balinor's arms around her, she wasn't scared. Rather, she was intrigued by how small the trees and rivers and kingdom she'd grown up in appeared, and for the first time, Hunith recognised the fact she was one of how many people lived in Albion and how insignificant she was in the scheme of things. It made her feel both invincible and oddly mortal at the same time.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, and Balinor bent down and rested his chin on her shoulder.
"It's magic," he corrected her, then leant them both forward, clutching onto Aodh's back. "Faster, Aodh."
The Dragon roared in reply and ducked his head, swooping down with the wind before arching back up, causing Hunith's stomach to do flips in her belly. But Balinor tightened his grip, and she rather than screaming in fear, Hunith was shouting with laughter.
Grinning childishly, Balinor withdrew their arms, so the wind beat against them as they tried to embrace it. "Not everything is evil, Hunith. There is as much good in magic as there is in man and look very carefully at the land Uther has made." Hunith's eyes scanned the fertile farmland, the peaceful outcrops and the rich greenery. She could see the borders of Essetir and the other neighbouring Kingdoms such as Caerleon, Odin's Kingdom and then some even further, past the Northern Plains and into the Kingdom's of Tirmaur and Mercia, Northumbria and Bernicia and Anglia, Daobeth, Nemeth and the Isle of Mora. None of the other kingdoms were as alive as Camelot and Nimueh, and the Isle had much to do with that.
"One day…" she murmured, and Balinor leant closer to hear her. "One day I want to travel all throughout Albion. From Camelot to Rheged and across the seas to Persia and Italia and over the very east to where silks are made."
Balinor smiled. "I can take you there one day…" Celosia swept overhead to close for comfort and Balinor ducked slightly. "But you'll have to learn to ride on Celosia's back."
Looking around, Hunith realised being on the back of a dragon wasn't as horrifying as she thought it would be. In fact, Aodh wasn't as terrible as she thought. He was gentle and kind, and warmth radiated from beneath his scales. It was comforting. There was no doubt even the fiery Celosia was just as kind. "I think I can do that."
They flew through the night until Aodh's ears perked up and he turned his head back to Camelot. "Your father is calling."
With an exasperated sigh, Balinor looked down at Hunith who had fallen asleep against him, a smile on her face. "Alright. Let's go back."
Aodh was already turning before Balinor could speak. He could not deny Sayard's orders, even at Balinor's request.
As the Dragon's landed, Balinor gathered Hunith against him so she wouldn't jostle and wake up. His father stood on the earth, looking fairly unimpressed but bit his tongue when he noticed Hunith.
Her arms slid around Balinor's neck, and he carried her back to Camelot after thanking Aodh, Celosia and Nuriel, alongside his father. "Let me get her back to bed…"
"I was looking for her," Sayard said stiffly. "Then I went to find you to help me, but you were gone too, so I assumed you were together. A guard told me he saw you leaving… Do you like giving me heart attacks, Balinor?"
"She was afraid of dragon's," he whispered. "Why were you looking for her?"
"Her father came up the castle. His brother is dying, and he has gone to his village to help. The messenger arrived not long ago and asked me if Hunith could stay with us. I told him I was leaving, but Ector agreed to care for her."
He peered down at the girl in his arms and wondered how close she was with her Uncle and how this would devastate her already distraught emotions. "Father… She believes that Uther may have used magic to separate Ygraine and Goloris and make her fall in love with him."
Sayard neither agreed nor disagreed, but rather hummed. He was watching Camelot as if waiting for the castle to burst into flames. "Do you think it's possible?" Balinor asked, trying to get more of an answer from him. "Of course, the only person Uther would ask such a thing from would be Nimueh but do you think she'd do it? To Ygraine?"
"I do not know, son," Sayard said, squeezing his shoulder.
They reached the castle and their chambers, but Sayard stopped him from entering. "What I do know is that I'm very proud of you for what you did tonight, despite the fact I'd rather you not be alone without your brother or at least someone to help you defend yourself. The first belief of a Dragonlord is that all dragons are kinfolk to magic and non-magic users alike, and you showed that tonight to young Hunith. You'll make an excellent Dragonlord one day."
"One far away day," Balinor prayed.
Sayard smiled and squeezed his shoulder once again. "Go to bed, Bal. The banquet has dwindled off. I'll be having breakfast with you, Ec and Hunith in the morning. I wish you to be awake for it."
Balinor nodded and then took his lightly breathing cargo into the guest room beside his chambers, the bed already set up for her as it usually was. As he rested her down, her grip around his neck tightened. "Come on, Hunith," he muttered but before he could untangle her, her eyes opened. "Shush, go to sleep." He hushed her as the bed dipped with his added weight.
"I fought with Arnold tonight," she explained quietly, her blue eyes hazed with sleep. "That's why… that's why I was in a bad mood, to begin with. He asked my father for my hand before he'd even spoke to me and then he wanted to dance with me. Can you believe the gall of him?"
There was no reason why Balinor was suddenly feeling the way he was feeling. It was like white-hot liquid iron rose up from his core and spread throughout all of his veins, filling his arteries and pounding through his brain and heart.
To be truthful, Balinor couldn't believe Arnold's gall, as Hunith so abruptly put it. He also wanted to declare that he couldn't believe the Knight had gone after something that was so rightfully his but stopped to remind himself that Hunith wasn't his property either, despite how responsible he felt for her. "Has he ever tried anything… anything at all?"
Hunith read between the lines despite her tiredness and shook her head. "No. He's never even so much as looked at me! And he wishes to wed? The gall…" she repeated with a sleepy mumble. "The only time that is acceptable… is if… if they're already… in love." Her murmuring's trailed off, and she turned over in the bed, falling promptly asleep once more.
He lightly kissed her forehead and pushed some of her hair from her face. She smiled at how innocent she looked. A part of him burned and knew he would do dark things if Arnold tried taking that innocence away from her. He pushed himself off the edge of the bed, gripping the pommel of his sword. It was hard to fend off his urge to start swinging at the suit of armour hung up in the corner.
But he left it and went out into the hall. Calming himself down with a shallow breath, he walked back to the Dining Hall where, true to his father's word, the party was petering out. He saw Walden and returned the friendly smile with a strained expression, only earning a look of confusion from the taller knight, who almost matched Goloris. He saw his brother, chatting fondly to a seamstress, Julia, under the watchful eye of Nimueh and the pleased one of Uther.
His brother looked absolutely smitten, but Balinor tore his gaze away to search out the slightly younger knight.
At first glance, he could find him hiding between any of the pillars or in the recesses and considered he might have already gone to his rooms. The Dragonlord's son turned to the door ready to go to Arnold's rooms, when he saw the Knight in question, stumbling out of the hall slowly, cloak hung over his arm and ale most likely to blame for his wobbling legs.
Fine. It will make this much easier.
Balinor stormed across the hall and found himself quite quickly with his arms fisted in Arnold's tunic, lifting him up from the ground marginally, and holding him up against the wall. His grey eyes widened in surprise as his head collided with the stone and cut off the Knight's cry by pressing his forearm against his throat. "What are your intentions towards Hunith?" he demanded, not even registering how much he sounded like an overbearing husband. Before Arnold could even stutter out an answer, Balinor shook him once again and cut off his air with his arm. "Why did you ask her to dance tonight?"
Even if Arnold had a dignified answer for Balinor that would pacify his rage, he couldn't reply because Balinor was choking him.
A large set of hands gripped Balinor's shoulders and dragged him off Arnold and shoved him back into Ector. Walden stood between Balinor and Arnold as Ector drew his sword, ready to do away with anyone who so much as glanced strangely at his brother. "What is this?" Sir Walden demanded, the quiet Knight letting his voice boom. "Balinor, why are you trying to kill Arnold?"
"He's hassling Hunith," he growled.
"I am not!" Arnold snapped back, shoulders drawn back. A crowd gathered, including the seamstress, Lachlan, Ygraine, Nimueh and the King. Tristan also arrived, the knight having sobered completely at the seriousness of the evening and stepping between Balinor and Ector, both of whom looked ready to kill Arnold. "I asked her father for her hand, and he said no."
"So why dance with her tonight?" Balinor demanded.
Arnold recoiled, but his courage mounted up inside of him once again. "He said if she loved me, I could have her."
The acting-Lord Ambrosius lunged forward, but Tristan and Ector both held him back. "She not something to be had!"
With a sneer, Arnold growled, "I apologise, my lord. I didn't know you'd already made a claim."
That was it for Balinor. He drew his sword, and it took Tristan, Walden and Ector – who, despite wanting to beat Arnold up himself saw the hysteria in his brother, more than the rational – to disarm him. Ector held him back and stretched out his arms as Tristan pulled his sword from his hand, and Walden pushed both Balinor and Ector further away from Arnold with his great strength. In the meantime, Lachlan hurried Arnold out of the Dining Hall and to his chambers. Arnold tried to press upon Lachlan, to fight him back but not with nearly the same amount of energy.
"Bal!" Ector shook his shoulders, and it only elicited a savage growl from his brothers snarling lips.
"I'll kill him."
The Knights who were trying to calm the would-be Lord were all taken by how remarkably like a dragon the man looked. His teeth with viciously gnashed together, his eyes drawn into thin slits and they could feel the cooling hot air from his flaring nostrils as he huffed in short spurts. "Balinor," Tristan snapped, and the younger man turned his head up and growled. "Calm yourself." Tristan moved Ector out of the way and stood in front of him. "Don't let the anger control you. Don't let it make you savage and turn you into a man who cannot face his own reflection."
Balinor hissed and recoiled from Tristan's light and measured grasps but the older knight held him firmly. "He–"
"Did he hurt her?" Tristan asked quietly in a low tone.
"No, but–"
"I understand your anger. I have felt it myself for the past twenty-two years," Tristan interrupted him again, and his voice was calming over Balinor's red-clouded mind. He actually chuckled, as though it was all funny. "Arnold merely danced with her. He may have offended her, but you've already choked the man. Unwanted touches cost him his fingers, anything further his life. Being a Knight he is entitled to ask for a wife, and he has not forced himself upon her, so the choking is enough for now. Are we in agreement?" Balinor felt his eyes shut, as he allowed Tristan's soothing voice wash over him.
But the idea of Arnold forcing himself near Hunith again caused the bubble of anger to rise in him again and as he tensed, his teeth grinding together. "If he hurt her…"
"Ah, ah, ah…" Tristan's voice dripped over his mind once more, and he pressed a hand on either side of Balinor's skull and forced his jaw to relax by pushing against a joint with his thumbs that Balinor hadn't even been aware existed. "Breathe, Balinor. Breathe and relax. He hasn't hurt her. Nothing happened. Are we in agreement?" he asked again.
A steady breath that Balinor hadn't been excepting escaped his lips and the lull of Tristan's calm and steady voice was enough to let all the anger edge away into nothingness. He opened his eyes and saw two calming blue ones above him and smiled weakly, suddenly lethargic. "Yes. Thank you, Sir Tristan."
"They'll make a fine Dragonlord out of you, yet." Tristan smiled and let go of Balinor's jaw. Balinor had to crack it a few times as he tried to figure out how it had gone so numb. "Just hone in the rage for now, hey?" It was the second time that night he'd been told he would be a good Dragonlord, and Balinor shivered at the implication.
Walden and Ector were staring at them, both in shock. Rather abruptly Ector asked, "How the hell did you do that?"
Tristan shrugged. "Years of studying. Balinor, will it be safe for you to make it through the castle on your own?"
He nodded and tilted his head forward and almost fell off the chair he somehow found himself in. He tittered with sleep. Two sets of arms came around his middle and pulled him up to stand. "If he ever… again… I'll kill him." Balinor swore just before his head heavily on Walden's shoulder, and he passed out.
"You put him to sleep!" Ector cried out.
With a small frown, Tristan tensed and relaxed his fingers. "Must have applied too much pressure." When Ector blanched, Tristan shrugged. "Do not worry. He'll be fine by the morning."
To my darling Hunith,
I'm sorry to leave in the night like this. I just got the message from Terra that Paul had been gravely injured and I had to go. A horse bucked him, and he is my brother. Though I know you wish you came too, I can assure you this will not be a pleasant visit and want to save you from harm.
If he passes, I shall send word to Lissa and Edmund. They can come through Camelot and bring you here to Essetir for the funeral. I hope all is fine.
I love you my dearest, and I already know to pass on your words of love and well wishes to your Uncle, Aunt and cousins.
Love,
Papa
Breakfast was supposed to be an intimate affair with Balinor and Ector only so that Sayard could bid a proper farewell to his sons. He didn't mind so much when Hunith was asked to join them, seeing the girl as a daughter just as he did with Ygraine and Nimueh during their childhood. So he called in an order from the kitchens for breakfast for four when Frenwyn and Lachlan knocked on the door and pleaded to join them.
"Come on, Lord Ambrosius. Aren't we your sons too?" Lachlan asked.
"Please?" Frenwyn grinned. "We miss you more than your sons when you're gone."
"We've never seen them more miserable than when you're here."
"But we pay attention to you. Let you pummel us in training…"
"… Scold us for our rash choices…"
"Introduce you to our women."
"Please?" they begged together.
He rolled his eyes and relented, if only because the boys entertained him and Hunith was already giggling as Lachlan plopped himself in the seat beside her and hugged her loosely. "I heard someone got into trouble last night," Lachlan sang with his eyes on Balinor.
Balinor smiled politely back. "And I heard someone had night visitors… One in particular… Her name… hmm… what was it? Laurena? Elena? Maria...? It's something that ends with an 'a'."
"Loretta," Ector piped up and received a face full of lettuce for his troubles. "That dark skinned beauty from up north." A potato swiftly followed the lettuce.
"Boys," Sayard warned. "If you wish to be here, you will act properly. And there is a lady in your presence."
Hunith grinned, "Oh no, Lord Ambrosius. Please don't stop them on my behalf. I haven't heard of Loretta yet."
"Not for your ears, young lady," Frenwyn warned her with a small wink.
There was another knock on the door and Sayard called them in. It was Lewis, with the lady he was courting, Emelie, staring at the ground nervously. "We heard…" Lewis started and then grinned. "There's breakfast?"
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Come. Sit."
No one knew how Tristan and Walden had fit in the chambers as they arrived, but when Uther and Ygraine joined them, it was quite ridiculous. The entire affair had to move into the council chambers, and more food was called for to feed their party just when Nimueh arrived with a stifled yawn and Gaius and Alice in their floor length physician's robes. For a change, Sayard sat at the head of the table with his sons on either side of him so he could at least properly farewell them, and then Tristan distracted Ector with a new sword technique, and he'd long lost Balinor's attention to something Hunith was saying.
Frenwyn just grinned from the other end of the table. "Told you, Lord Ambrosius. We're your real sons."
Uther was gracious enough to let Sayard sit at the head of the table but the absolute ease and adoration he was flittering about with made Sayard think maybe his nephew was drunk on love. It was quite obvious to everyone that Uther was suddenly courting Ygraine though no one dared asked how, or what happened to Vivienne and Goloris. Tristan was pointedly ignoring it, though Sayard knew the man well enough to see the anger bubbling far away in his gut. He was just a master at controlling it.
When breakfast was finally over, Sayard stood to say his final goodbyes. He left his sons for last as he went around and embraced each and every one of his companions, holding Gaius for a moment longer. "Take care of them, old friend."
Gaius looked and scoffed. "Them? They run circles around me."
"You're not that old, Physician. I'm off to war and eight years your elder."
Gaius became sombre at that and squeezed Sayard's shoulder. "Please return. If not for the sake of yourself, then for your boys. They may be men, Sayard, but they would be lost without you."
"That's why I'm asking you. Take care of them, Gaius," Sayard said, even more gently. Gaius nodded, agreeing reluctantly not because he was not up to the task, but because the thought of losing Sayard upset him.
Frenwyn squeezed his arm and made him promise to return, and Lachlan hugged him unabashed and whispered, "Please… you're all we have, Lord Ambrosius." It broke his heart slightly, but he squeezed Lachlan and let go, catching sight of the band of orphans that he had adopted over the years. Gaius and Alice took care of them too, but he knew many of the crowd he saw in front of him looked up to Sayard like a father. It was an honour and a burden, but he wouldn't wish for any other family for himself or his sons.
Before he could contemplate this further, he was balled back by an armful of Nimueh. She pressed her face into his shoulder. He raised his hand and cupped the back of her head. "I'll return, my love." He smiled and kissed her cheek. "In the meantime, don't get up to mischief." As Nimueh pulled away, her eyes flashed with guilt.
"I must tell you…" she breathed, but she was interrupted by Uther clapping his shoulder and smiling.
"Uncle… cousin," Uther grinned broadly. "I wish you a safe journey."
Sayard nodded and glanced to where Nimueh had been, but she'd already disappeared. "Thank you, Sire." Sayard touched his shoulder and felt an unfamiliar chill of dread. Before he could question it, Uther reached his hand back and took Ygraine's. She shyly came forward, and they both circled him, an arm on either of his shoulders.
"There is something I wish to tell you before you go." Uther shared a look with Ygraine and the dread bubbled up in him again. "We are to be wed." Ygraine just grinned and nodded along with her King's words as utter mayhem erupted around them.
"What?"
"When did this happen?"
"Ygraine!"
"But… But…" One furious stutter sounded out over all the voices, and it belonged to Tristan who frowned deeply and looked enraged. "What of Goloris? And Vivienne?" he demanded, looking more at Uther.
"Well as of this morning, Vivienne and Goloris are otherwise engaged," Ygraine said with venom. "At least, if the idle gossip of the servants who saw her leave his chambers early this morning is anything to go by, Vivienne has once again lifted her skirts to curtsey for a knight."
Hunith spluttered at this more than anyone else, the others well aware of Vivienne's indiscretions. Uther tried not to burn red with embarrassment. "It does not matter, however." Ygraine turned her hazy love filled gaze to Uther and smiled. "I'm in love with another man, and I never want to be apart from him."
"Ygraine, think clearly for a moment. It was only a fortnight ago when you announced your engagement to Goloris!" Tristan tried to reason.
"And the day passed where he showed his true colours," Ygraine snapped angrily. "I thought you would be happy for me, brother. I am to be Uther's Queen."
Uther wrapped his arm around her waist protectively. "It is what she wants."
Tristan's eyes burned. "Are you sure of this? Is this exactly what you want Ygraine because no one stops loving the King without being banished first."
When Uther tried to start, Sayard rested a hand on his shoulder and held him away. "Of course I am sure," she crooned. "Uther is the man I truly love. I was simply unable to see him behind Goloris's giant stature." She bit out the Knight's name with contempt. "I love him and…" She turned to face Sayard. "We will be wed upon your return, my Lord."
After a fretful moment where all waited for Sayard to move, the Dragonlord realised he had bigger problems to deal with amongst the Dragon's and couldn't argue with his nephew at the time. He shot a glance to Balinor. One look at the flicker of anger in Balinor's eyes confirmed all of his suspicions, and he nodded once to his youngest to make sure he knew it was his responsibility now. He leant forward and kissed Ygraine's forehead. "Of course my dear. I will be there when you are wed."
Tristan ground his teeth but relaxed his posture exponentially and became icily calm. "Fine… fine." He reasoned. "I have always believed in giving Ygraine her free will so… fine." He shuddered as the last of the anger slid away from him. "But Uther if you so much as narrow your eyes at her, I will kill. King or not." The threat hung in the air, and he took his sister's hand and pressed a chaste kiss on it before straightening. "I hope you know what you're doing."
Sayard hoped so too.
Dear Lord Ambrosius,
I am so, so terribly sorry. I am sorry for what I have done to your grandson's, sorry for what I have done to Balinor and Ector… Sorry for what I have caused.
But you must understand.
The alternative was so much worse.
Please do not think of me any differently. I love you terribly as do we all.
Please return to us,
Nimueh
The King's chambers were empty as Uther worked on signing papers and treaties, his left-hand writing and his right going over it with wood shavings moments later to dry the ink. It was cathartic and calming, reading the papers, approving, disapproving and signing.
Most people believed it was most boring part of Kingship, but Uther disagreed. It was the calm before the storm. The intermittent moments where he could relax and solve people's problems with little issue and lots of self-satisfaction. No arguments, no watching men with desperation in their eyes, dying for what they believed. Just ink and a quill and the virtuous need to better his people and their condition.
It was as he was approving a tax decrease for Lord Hagen's lands that he heard a knock on his door. He looked up and wondered who it could be. The breakfast before Sayard's departure had ended less than half an hour ago with Sayard heading to the Dragon's Clearing with his sons, and lunch wasn't for a few hours yet.
He had told everyone he didn't wish to be disturbed, hadn't he? "Come in," he called.
The door opened, and Balinor stepped into the main chamber, his eyes hesitating as they glanced around the room and finally landed on Uther. "Sire."
"Balinor, come." Uther nodded for him to close the door and the now acting-Lord Ambrosius followed orders and walked in further, hesitating just on the edge of the curtain which he could draw for privacy in the mornings.
"May we talk?" Balinor asked, his formal tone dropping.
Uther pushed aside his things, hearing the tone of his cousin's voice and knowing it was rather important. "Of course. Sit," he said, pointing to the spare chair. Balinor tucked his robes around him and sat across from Uther, staring at his hands. Balinor appeared unable to speak, his mouth open but with no words coming out of the end. Uther tried prompting him. "Your father departed well then?"
"Oh. Yes. Of course," Balinor stuttered out. "He…" His face softened. "I will miss him dearly."
"We all will," Uther agreed.
Balinor lifted his hand to his chin and rubbed it, wearing a thin smile. "Half of Camelot and I are quite aware of your strong love for Ygraine."
Uther beamed at the mention of his fiancé. "Well… we are engaged."
"Yes… yes, you are." A second knock sounded from the behind, and Uther looked up, only to have Balinor stand.
"I invited someone… If you don't mind," Balinor added.
Reluctantly, Uther nodded. "Enter," he called out, and Nimueh walked inside only to freeze at the sight of both Balinor and Uther there.
"What is this?" she asked.
"I wrote to you as Uther…" Balinor confessed, wincing. He turned his head to the King and looked apologetic. "I didn't know how else to…" He offered the chair he had previously occupied. "Please sit, Nimueh."
She did so reluctantly, and before either King or Sorceress could question him, Balinor started pacing. "I… I'm well aware of the fact that you are King, Sire – Uther. But you are also my cousin, and I care for you deeply. Nimueh, you are one of my closest friends and Ygraine… Ygraine is precious to all of us. We grew up as a family, all of us in Anglia and – I can't believe I'm admitting to this – but I wish sometimes we were children once more when times were far simpler." He cleared his throat and stood over the table, looking at both of them. "I know I'm more like a pestering little brother to you both but please hear me out as a man who knows things both of you cannot. Or least, you can't Uther. You don't have a bone of magic in you."
The two shared a look of dreaded understanding as Balinor relaxed his shoulders and clasped his hands together. "I know you cast a love spell over Ygraine." Uther went to say something, but Balinor spoke over him. "It's the only explanation for Goloris's actions. You must have cast a hatred spell of some sort to break them up, yes?" Nimueh looked away guiltily. "Yes. I assumed correctly then. And Vivienne and Goloris?"
"I pushed them together," Nimueh murmured, and even Uther looked surprised by that. It hadn't been apart of the original plan, but Nimueh was explaining. "I thought if they were both reasonably distracted there would be less bloodshed."
"Yes, yes, of course…" Balinor mumbled like it was some big mysterious puzzle he had to solve. "But, my point is, love spells are dangerous, Uther. Nimueh, you should know this. Didn't they teach you on the Isle?"
"I ordered her to," Uther said, defending his friend. "If you have some qualm, take it up with me, Balinor. This was my idea."
"She should know better," Balinor implored him, "And so should you. Magic is not supposed to be messed with like this. Or did you not listen to Ignacio's warning?"
They both shuddered at the memory. The visions they had received were now vague and blurred, but the pain and the content they could still remember as clear as day. "Didn't he warn you not to use magic for your personal gain?"
"No," Uther cut him off. "Ignacio said, magic is not wholly to blame."
"He said your actions have consequences and to be wary of them," Balinor snapped. "Have you thought of these consequences? How Goloris will change? How Ygraine will become a puppet? Let's not forget Vivienne is a mad witch with unstable magic as it is."
As Balinor spoke, Nimueh's eyes filled with tears. The sorceress looked wrecked as if the burden of what she had done was taking her from her sleep. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I-"
Uther growled. "Balinor, it will not happen. Nimueh and I have already discussed it. We shall wean her off the magic as the years go by and eventually she'll be in love with me by herself."
"Are you both naïve enough to think that it will work?" Balinor demanded.
"Bal…" Nimueh stood up and wrapped her hands around his upper arms, her eyes spilling over with tears. "Listen to me. I had no choice. Neither did Uther. If… If Uther married Vivienne, your child would die. He would be mercilessly killed at the hands of their daughter. So would Ector's son. So would half the kingdom." Uther gasped involuntarily behind them as Nimueh's hand tightened on him. "I searched for the consequences and… Oh, Bal." She rested her head on his shoulder, and he reluctantly reached his hand up to comfort her.
Uther thought of this long and hard. Thought of why Nimueh had asked her never to bed Vivienne. "I'm sorry," Nimueh sobbed and clutched at Balinor's shoulders. "Forgive me, please Balinor."
While Balinor did comfort her with his warm arms, holding Nimueh as tight as he could to his chest, he whispered, "I refuse to believe that Vivienne and Ygraine are your only options, Uther. You're a King for Lord's sake."
Uther only had one card left to play to keep Balinor's silence. "I will give blessing for Ector's marriage if you stay quiet."
Balinor frowned. "Ector's not getting married."
"He will be." Uther leant on the table, his fingers pressed together. "The deal I made with Nimueh ensured I'd find him a wife. I know Julia is in love with him already and the only reasons Ector does not court her are Nimueh and the fact he doesn't believe I'd let them marry because she is a slave and is owned by one of the other Lords. She's only here working for Camelot in a treaty."
He could see Balinor running through his brother's actions, and he recognised it was strange that the girl had been in attendance at the dinner the previous night. It was all Uther's doing. "Of course with a swift word from me, your brother could find happiness."
Balinor winced as Nimueh murmured against his neck. "They have a child together… your nephew." She squeezed his shoulder and shut her eyes, leaving out something. But Balinor was too distracted at the thought of his brother finding a wife and having his own family.
Only Balinor knew it was the one thing Ector craved above anything else. He loved children, and he loved the idea of having as many as he could so he could be as good of a father to them as Sayard and his biological father, Elias. Despite calling Sayard father amongst friends and affectionately, he still had a lot of love for his real father, and it was one of his greatest fears to have children who grew up without him.
A wife would mean everything to Ector… Balinor bit his lip and said, "This is far too dangerous," he said. "If… Will it make Ector a happier man?"
"All of this does," Uther entreated. "Don't you see how closely all our lives are connected. Goloris and Vivienne will be happy. I will be happy with Ygraine, Ector with Julia. It all works out, Balinor."
"For the better?" he asked Nimueh more than Uther.
"As far as I can see," she mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes.
Balinor thought fretfully of Ygraine and groaned. "If… When you remove the spell, if Ygraine does not love you…"
"I shall step away and know I've done all I can."
And reluctantly, Balinor signed his own fate.
Dearest Uther,
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…
~An Unfinished Letter from Ygraine~
A/N: Please review if you're reading. Reviews make my life.
xx
ithoughtslashmeanthorror