I just realized something I didn't write in the last chapter's A/N: delayed thanks for the fic recs I got after asking for fics where Balinor is not-hella-dead! I've had lots of lovely stuff to read and I'm very happy for the fics you recommended.
Furthermore, of course, lots of love for the response to chapter two - you guys rock! :)
They spend the day together, talking until the daylight fades away and Merlin lights the candles with a wave of his hand, and then they talk some more until the night grows old and they're all ready to fall asleep sitting up.
There's some arguing regarding who should sleep where; Merlin insists Hunith should take his bed while she refuses to "steal her son's room" and Balinor offers to sleep on the floor which both Merlin and Hunith immediately object to. Gaius finally throws his hands up in the air, hair in disarray and looking ready to kick them all out on the street, before declaring that he will take Merlin's bed, so the family of three can sleep in the same room. In the end, Hunith sleeps in the physician's own bed while Merlin and Balinor sleep on the patient cots.
In the morning Balinor's not entirely sure why the sleeping arrangement was such an important thing.
Balinor and Hunith are eating a late breakfast (Gaius tinkering with various potions and Merlin still sprawled on the cot facedown) when the door is suddenly slammed open.
"Merlin!" a young man bellows, blonde hair a tussled mess and only half dressed in black trousers and a white shirt. "Gaius, where is that useless idiot ward of yours?"
Balinor can feel his ire rising and clenches his fist around his spoon, ready to give this boy a tongue lashing (really, who barges into someone's home and proceeds to insult its inhabitants?)
"I'm here, you bloody blind dollophead," Merlin calls out, voice muffled by the pillow he's pressing his face against.
"Well don't just stay there, get up, you lazy moron," the blonde boy replies with a longsuffering sigh. "Unless you want to start the new day in the stocks – oh wait; the new day is already started, because you overslept. Again."
"'m coming," Merlin mutters and rolls down from the cot, hitting the floor with a startled yelp.
The newcomer rolls his eyes and then focuses on the two sitting by their dinner table, as though noticing them just now even though they're bloody right in front of him.
"Oh, hello Hunith! I didn't see you there, but it's lovely to meet again."
"Not very observant, is he?" Balinor remarks scathingly.
"Likewise, Arthur," Hunith replies with a kind smile, nonchalantly kicking Balinor in the shin.
"Don't bother, mother," Merlin sighs as he drags himself off the floor. "It's never lovely to meet Arthur."
"Honestly, Merlin, you ought to be happy to be graced by my presence," Arthur sniffs. "Anyone else would pay to be granted the honour of serving the prince of Camelot."
Balinor chokes on the porridge and Hunith sympathetically thumps him in the back. Wait – prince of Camelot?
"Once again I am impressed by your extreme stupidity when it comes to how the world functions," Merlin says snidely, and what is he doing, antagonizing Uther Pendragon's son like that, is he trying to get himself killed, "It's not your presence they want, it's the payment – which, by the way, is kind of crap. I want a raise."
"Believe it or not, Merlin, but to earn a raise you'd actually have to earn it."
"I think I earn it by putting up with you, sire."
Gaius pointedly clears his throat and Hunith stands up, Balinor following her.
"Ah," Merlin says and absently ties his neckerchief around his wrinkled shirt. "Some introductions are in order. Arthur, you've already met my mother," Arthur politely shakes her hand while smiling, "and this is my father," he halts briefly, clearly remembering that Balinor's name should not be used and he appears to be trying to come up with a new name, "…Bob. Father, this is Arthur Pendragon."
Balinor (cringing slightly at his newly given name), obediently shakes Arthur's hand and if his grip is a little bit too tight, no one comments on it. Uther Pendragon's son is right in front of him and he doesn't know how to react – a child shouldn't be blamed for the actions of their father, but lords, Balinor wants to blame him anyway.
"Well," Arthur says, discreetly glancing down at his own underdressed state, "If you don't mind, I'm going to need Merlin now –"
"Oh, I mind," Balinor deadpans, voice anything but respectful. "I'd like a moment with my son. Sire."
Merlin sighs dramatically and says in a stage whisper; "Damn it, father, I need this job."
"I'm sure we can find another job somewhere else," Balinor replies in the same tone of mock whispering.
"Merlin would like to keep his job," Hunith scolds lightly, giving Arthur an apologetic smile.
"Merlin would have to do his job in order to keep his job."
"Merlin is standing right here," Merlin remarks sourly. "And go on, you prat, I'll catch up with you – and for the love of god, learning how to dress yourself would not be a bad thing to do."
To Balinor's surprise, the prince actually does as Merlin says (after another long phrase of insults), leaving the room blessedly free of royals.
Merlin gives his father an expectant look. "Yes?"
"You… You're working for Uther Pendragon's son?" Balinor hisses. "Are you out of your mind?"
"That's the common belief, actually! People thinking I have some sort of mental disease actually makes it easier – I mean, who'd expect me to be a sorcerer? Even the king has asked if I have some sort of mental affliction, and I answered 'probably' and he –"
"Just in what sort of scenario," Balinor starts, forcing his voice to sound even remotely calm, "would you get a chance to speak to the king?"
"I have a feeling I won't like the outcome of this conversation," Merlin backpedals, "You may ask mother or Gaius; I have a royal prat to dress and feed, bye for now."
Merlin hurries after the prince, and Balinor rubs at his temples, trying to force away the headache building up in his head. "Why do I have a feeling I can kiss goodbye to any hair on my head that isn't grey yet?"
"Oh, honey," Hunith says compassionately and pats his shoulder, "Get to know Merlin a little bit better and all your hair will be white in a matter of months."
oOoOo
"Let me get this straight," Balinor says slowly as Merlin's finally returned from serving Arthur. "You want to go meet the dragon under the castle right away, even though it's barely dark outside. And let's just completely ignore the fact that there are guards guarding the dragon's cave."
"Oh, please," Merlin dismisses easily as he straps a sword to his belt. "I've been sneaking past said guards since my first week in Camelot - it's not like they'll start noticing me now."
He had expected Hunith to back him up; after all, it's their son they're talking about, and he'd thought Hunith would be a protective and reasonable mother. "Come now, Balinor, I thought you'd be excited to see Kilgharrah again," she says (is she actually siding with Merlin on this? Just... casually sneak past Camelot's security?).
"Of course I want to see him again; of course I want him free. But what use are we to him if we get ourselves killed before we even reach the cave?"
"Where on earth did you get such a high opinion of Camelot's guard and their competence?" Merlin asks, sounding honestly curious.
"Balinor, so help me, if you don't follow your son and stop bickering in my home I will make sure your next dinner will have unfortunate consequences," Gaius warns, appearing to be at his wits' end as he tries to focus on his work.
Merlin sends the old man a guilty look. "Sorry, Gaius. We'll leave now."
Hunith gives Balinor an encouraging push to get his feet moving, and in the matter of seconds they're walking through the empty corridors of the castle. Merlin calmly leads them into an alcove when a group of guards pass them, and then marches further down in the castle with an ease that clearly shows he's done this before. He grabs a torch from the wall (after having distracted some more guards with a casual magic trick) and starts walking down a dark stairwell.
And Balinor... Balinor can feel his old friend down there; feel the ancient magic both as a slap in the face and as a warm, welcoming embrace.
"You bring company, young warlock," Kilgharrah's voice greets them and Balinor takes in the vast, damp cave that has been the dragon's prison for the last twenty years. A dragon doesn't belong shackled in a place like this.
"Surprise," Merlin says, and Balinor's not entirely sure whether the exaggerated cheer in his voice is fully sarcastic or not. "But then again, I hardly need to introduce you to each other, now do I?"
Balinor steps past Merlin to stand at the ledge, staring up at his old friend. Kilgharrah looks back at him, expression not betraying whatever emotion he's feeling. "It's been some time, Balinor," the dragon finally says, shifting and causing the long chain at his ankle to rustle loudly.
Balinor's throat tightens at the sight, not sure if it's in anger, guilt or sadness (most likely a combination of all three). "It has," he agrees, thankful that his voice holds. "I thought Uther had you killed long ago."
Kilgharrah scoffs slightly. "The tyrant king wouldn't kill his trophy without reason; don't delude yourself, dragonlord."
"Oh don't look so gloomy," Balinor says. "And don't you dare blame me; you were hardly the only one who was betrayed. Besides, we're here to free you."
Kilgharrah doesn't look particularly surprised, per say, but he's unable to suppress the shudder that spreads through his large body at the mention of freedom. He shifts his golden gaze to the cheekily grinning Merlin and narrows his eyes at him. "Bringing a dragonlord in order to make sure I don't attack Camelot," he states, sounding reluctantly impressed. "I must admit it was a good plan."
"Although I'd love to get some credit for once, I can't say this was thanks to me," Merlin shrugs, "Mother went and fetched him and got him here."
"Ah," Kilgharrah says, "I thought the random boost of intelligence was highly out of character for you."
"I take offence to that," Merlin informs him.
Balinor decides to interrupt them before they can get started on an actual argument. "Kilgharrah, what sort of enchantment is over those chains? Or more importantly, how the hell do we break the chain?"
"I'm quite sure your son has come prepared," Kilgharrah notes wryly, nodding at the sword at Merlin's waist. "I don't need to take a closer look at the sword to know it is magical – the fact that Merlin carries a sword at all is a clue; the young warlock has few talents, and the art of sword fighting is definitely not one of them."
Merlin frowns. "Why the hell are you insulting me when I'm the one who's holding the key to your freedom? You should be kissing the ground at my feet."
"Careful, little warlock; you don't think I can obliterate you within seconds?"
"I thought we'd already confirmed that you can't - you've already attempted to fry me alive, and if you try to squash me I'll just run up the stairs."
"You've tried what?" Balinor exclaims, spinning around to glare at the dragon who doesn't even have the decency to look a little bit guilty.
"Your son is very annoying," Kilgharrah tell him in a matter of fact voice.
"Your dragon is annoying," Merlin shoots back. "Not to mention verbally disadvantaged; poor thing can't give you a bloody straight answer and keeps sprouting about bloody prophesies."
"Ah. Damn it, Kilgharrah, still with the prophecies?"
The dragon snorts impatiently, causing a thin trail of smoke to steam from his nostrils. "I believe we've tried settling our differences when it comes to prophecies before; there's hardly a need to start arguing about it again. Merlin – the sword?"
"Right; as you've so kindly pointed out, I've gotten my hands on the sword of a knight of Medhir. Are we freeing you now or do you want some time alone to say goodbye to this place?"
"Where the hell did you get a sword of Medhir?*" Balinor asks.
"It's a long story, let's not get caught up in the details; what matters is that I have the bloody sword, and Kilgharrah's already beaten the spell into my poor head. Repeatedly."
"Alright then," the dragonlord mutters and watches as Merlin carefully climbs down from the ledge and eventually reaches the dragon's leg. He hefts the sword into his hands and nods quickly at his father.
Balinor takes a deep breath and searches for the ancient magic trapped inside him. It comes to him easily and he opens his mouth to roar, magic flowing through his veins and making him feel more alive than he has in years, every cell tingling with power. He roars good and long, making the command secure and not leaving any loopholes for Kilgharrah to take advantage of (although he'd love to see Uther die by dragon's fire, he can grudgingly admit that not every civilian in Camelot should pay the prize for what their king has done).
When he's done he gives Merlin a responding nod, and the boy lifts the sword over his head. With a powerful incantation of his own and a flash of bright gold eyes, the sword sinks through the mighty chain.
Kilgharrah roars loud and clear, and immediately lifts his heavy wings. He puffs out a blazing fire into the air (to Balinor he seems more like an excited puppy than a fearsome dragon, but he's pretty sure he's a bit biased), crouches down and then takes off.
The dragon has never been one for goodbyes, preferring dramatic exits as well as entrances, and soon he's gone. They can hear the flapping of his wings for a long while, before even that disappears into the night.
"Yeah, don't mention it," Merlin shouts after him and then grins at his father.
"Bloody dragon," Balinor complains – he'd actually wanted to speak to his old friend after twenty years, damn it. "He'll be back sooner or later, making sure he arrives at a most inconvenient time."
Merlin claps his hands together, somehow managing to avoid cutting off his fingers with the sword. "Anyway; your dragonlord voice was absolutely wicked – can you teach me how to do that?"
*Oh, excellent question, Balinor; where the hell did you find that sword, Merlin?
...I gave myself the liberty to ignore canon again, and let's just say he randomly found the sword somewhere. If Arthur gets to pull magical swords from rocks Merlin gets to ignore canon and find magical swords by himself. And since planning is not a part of me, this will get a bit longer than three chapters - not by much, but a plotbunny smacked me in the face and I want to add something else to this story as well.
Reviews mean fuel for kick-starting the writing process! :)