The Last Hope

[Arthur Pendragon]

This journey was not going to be a smooth one. Anytime they crossed over the border into Cenred's kingdom, meant they -- he -- was in constant danger. It could be seen as that final push towards war, which was going to most certainly happen at any given moment. Arthur only hoped it would be well after they sorted out this dragon business. The last thing Camelot needed right now was to be at war with another kingdom, when their resources were already running out and people were dying left right and center because of the dragon. They needed to eliminate one threat at a time, rather than overload themselves and end up fighting a two front war. With that in mind, Arthur finished getting dressed in his regular attire to draw as little attention to him as possible. Of course, if someone saw them -- such as Cenred's guards -- they may immediately recognize him, but right now, Arthur was hoping for the best. For his sake. For Merlin's sake. For Camelot's sake.

They did not even know what this Balinor person looked like, and Arthur knew it would take time to scour the villages, finding out what information they could about him. Even though they had a general location, time was of the essence. He would not be here to fight off the dragon with his men when it attacked at night. He would not be able to protect the people of Camelot directly, as he would be off searching for their final hope to cease these horrific, violent attacks. Tensions and stress was high -- to say the least -- and a lot was riding on this Balinor dragon lord. They needed to find him for failure was not an option.

As Arthur reached for his vest, he slightly cringed, the wound on his chest burning. Even though it had been tended to by Guinevère, and quickly checked out by Gaius, he still felt the burning wound, somehow seeping through his veins. It was making him feel even weaker . . . where as usually it was not difficult for him to get over a battle wound. He had been injured before, but this was different. Perhaps it was because it was a physical attack from a creature of magic. Whatever the case, Arthur could not afford to be the least bit impaired right now. He needed to be on full alert. Fully guarded. He waited in his chambers for Merlin to join him so that they could leave right away. The horses were probably prepared right now and as soon as his servant came, the two would be off to their venture to find the last Dragonlord.

_{Setting: Starts in Arthur's chambers, eventually extends Cenred's kingdom
Time of Day: Late night/early morning
Timeline: During The Last Dragonlord
Tag: Merlin
Notes: Off to find Merlin's daddy!}

[em]

Merlin had said nothing to Gauis all evening. The truth that Balinor was indeed his father had hit him hard. Merlin wasn’t sure whether he should be either happy that his father was still living, or angry at the fact that he’d just left his mother without so much as a goodbye.
He stuffed a few more things into a saddlebag and then closed it. The trip was going to be long – both he and Arthur knew it, but they had to find his father. It was their only chance of defeating the dragon after all.
Merlin’s magic wasn’t as strong as he’d liked. The dragon himself had sneered at him for it.

“Gediernan mín dióhlu” he muttered, the magic book immediately hiding itself away under the floorboard under his bed where it was usually hidden.
Merlin hadn’t bothered to physically put it away himself; he already felt drained by the recent events that had happened. Poisoning Morgana, releasing the dragon, finding out his father was an outlawed dragon lord. Feeling the weight of the magic book would only be a constant reminder of the one that he carried everyday. Fulfilling his destiny. He eventually gathered his things together and said goodbye to Gauis.

He reached Arthur’s chambers in record time and saw the Prince looking as though he was in pain. It was most likely his wound he’d recently received. He entered the room cautiously. “You alright?” he frowned as he approached Arthur, “you look…well to be honest? You look terrible”.

At least he wouldn’t have a pillow lobbed in his direction. Merlin kept his eyes on Arthur, wondering whether or not he’d be able to last the journey at all.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur should have known that Merlin knew him well enough by now to know that he was not exactly in perfect condition. But he would not allow it to hinder their journey. Too much was at stake. "I'm fine," he answered passively as he reached for his riding gloves. He gave Merlin a bit of a sarcastic look when he said that he looked terrible. He knew it of course came out of concern, and quite honestly, Arthur was appreciative of it. Even though he did not wish to draw attention to it. "Well you don't look too good yourself," he teased him. That much was true, but it was most probably because no one had gotten a good nights rest due to recent attacks. Every night the dragon charged the city, setting fires everywhere, so he was rather certain that practically everyone was heavily sleep deprived.

"Are you alright?" He asked him in a more serious and concerned voice, turning around the question but it stemmed from genuine concern, and it could be taken in many ways. Arthur had noticed that Merlin looked troubled. Perhaps it could be as everyone else -- devastated over the high loss of people. Worried for those who may be joining them tonight. There was a great deal of massive concern spread throughout the city. But, Arthur also wanted to ask in terms of this journey. As previously established, it was not safe. Though Arthur -- as usual -- did not admit it, he was always grateful for Merlin's company. He knew that he often did not leave him with a choice, but ultimately -- shockingly -- Merlin did have one. Arthur would never ask anyone to enter a dangerous situation if they were totally against it, but Merlin constantly proved his loyalty, and he had become someone that Arthur fully counted on and trusted.

With those thoughts of his servant, he waited for his answer before walking any further. This was not safe, arguably more safe than staying in the city while the dragon attacked, but still. It was better to be sure that Merlin truly was ready for this, or if he preferred otherwise . . . preferred to stay. Arthur would not blame him for doing so, though he doubted Merlin would make such a decision. He knew his faithful servant and friend better than that. Though, if something were to in fact happen to them, he did not want to forever regret not asking him, just to be certain. Maybe the biggest assumption of all, was that Merlin could gather all of this from three words posed as a simple question. Oh well. He wasn't as stupid as Arthur made him look.

[em]

Merlin knew Arthur well enough to know that he was not fine. He didn’t look it and he’d heard the small groan that the prince had made before Merlin had entered his chambers. Never the less he knew not to question whether Arthur wanted to go ahead and ride out. Of course he did. It was his duty. Their duty.

“Well you don't look too good yourself,"

Merlin gave a small snort, “I’ve been better”. He scratched the back of his neck. There was so much that he wanted to say and yet he couldn’t – because it would completely uncover his magical abilities. There were times like these that Merlin just wanted to yell at Arthur. Tell him who he really was, that his father was in fact the man that they were seeking.
Fate was cruel, and yet destiny seemed far crueller.

“Huh?” Merlin looked up when realising that Arthur said, “sorry – err, yeah…im alright” he lied. If only Arthur knew the extent of just how ‘not alright’ he was. In fact the realisation that they were seeking a man who Merlin had wondered about for the last 20 odd years of his life had only just hit him.
In some ways it hurt, in others it just felt numb. Merlin was a complete mixture of emotions at the moment and had no idea what to expect when they found Balinor. Would he even agree to return to a place to help the man who had banished him from there all those years ago?

He tugged self-consciously at his scarf, “I just want to find Balinor and let everyone return to peace again”. Another lie. Well…it was true but the statement itself had been a lie. Positioning his bag in a more comfortable place over his shoulder, he looked to Arthur and gave him a weak and tired smile. He was tired – but he wasn’t about to give up just yet.

“Are you ready?” he asked

[Arthur Pendragon]

Something was off about Merlin, but Arthur supposed it was just the concern he felt over the good of the kingdom. Merlin was more the evidently emotional type . . . and he seemed greatly troubled right now. So he would just have to see how this journey progressed. Arthur's assumptions were confirmed when Merlin spoke about wanting to find Balinor. Arthur knew it would not be easy to convince him to save a kingdom that once condemned him and his kind. Sometimes, the burden of The Great Purge was too much to bare . . . the fight against magic never ended. Arthur could not help but wonder, how his father could condemn magic when now, it was the only chance of survival. It just seemed to be a bit contradicting in the prince's mind, and he was fairly certain he was not the only one who was having such thoughts. While Arthur had witnessed magic used for more evil than good, this could indeed be an example of how magic was beneficial, for it would be that which saved Camelot.

"That is what we all want," Arthur agreed in a low voice. Return the kingdom to peace. Right now, it felt it was only being led to destruction and far too many lives have been lost. Arthur did not want to lose another citizen for while he did not personally know every single one, he loved them all for they were people of Camelot who had trusted him with their safety and security . . . and he failed them, and was failing them still. How many husbands and wives; fathers and mothers; sons and daughters; sisters and brothers . . .how many had died? Far too many to count. One thing that Arthur would also need to investiage once the dragon was taken care of, was how the hell it got out of the caves to begin with. It had been tied up so well, sealed in there for an eternity. How? Why now had it suddenly been granted freedom. And the first thing it did was seek vengence by taking it out on innocent people who had nothing to do with how he ended it up there to begin with.

Arthur handed Merlin his pack, not exactly giving him a choice in carrying it . . . but that was nothing new. "You look tired Merlin," he said, stating the obvious as he began to walk down the hallways. "I hope you're prepared for a long days ride, for we are not stopping until we reach Cenred's kingdom." They could not afford to waste a moment by setting up camp for the night. They needed to get there as quickly as possible; the sooner they arrived, the sooner they could start the search for the last dragonlord. That would be another challenge all on its own, but as everyone knew . . . Balinor seemed to hold the future of Camelot in his hands, whether he was aware of it or not.

[em]

Merlin didn’t hear Arthur agreeing with him. He was too busy staring into space to even bother listening to what the prince had to say. What if Balinor refused to come back with them? Merlin knew that all would be lost then – his magic was useless in this situation and Camelot would fall for sure. Should he tell Balinor that he was his son. He couldn’t exactly go up to him and say “Hey, you don’t know me but im your son – Hunith’s my mother, the woman you left”. In his mind the last part sounded bitter, but if it were said vocally then Merlin knew it wouldn’t sound so much like that.

He was jolted out of his thoughts as the weight of Arthur’s bag was thrust into him. What on earth was he taking? His whole chambers? He followed Arthur out and into the hallway.
Merlin just shrugged when Arthur noted that he looked tired, “that’s my punishment for running around after you all day”. He’d meant to make this sound like a joke, but somehow it came out as though he was angry. He gave a small sigh, “sorry”.

Prepared? Of course he wasn’t prepared. This was just another situation that had once again resulted in him being dragged into the middle of it. No matter how special his mother had told him that he was – Merlin felt anything but that right now. For a start he was defenceless against the Dragon, and then there was the whole ‘daddy doesn’t know’ revelation. Merlin felt that over the last few weeks, he’d been pushed from pillar to post. He ached both physically and emotionally. Protecting Arthur was a heavy weight to carry in itself, everyday. He knew that he couldn’t just turn a blind eye though.

“I’ll be fine” was all he said as they made their way down the steps.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was used to Merlin's sarcasm, but there was something very different in the way he had just spoken to him. Arthur looked at him, this time void of any offense, anger, or frustration in the words. No. Instead there was concern for he was a bit taken aback by the tone of voice Merlin had used when . . attempting to take a joke? Perhaps the prince would have said a sarcastic retort, had he not been so curious as to what sparked such a reaction from his friend. And he seemed to realize it too for almost immediately after wards, he apologize for it. This was strange. This was not the Merlin he was used to seeing, that he had seen for the past couple of years. That Merlin was annoyingly chipper; always talkative; always providing hope and encouragement. This Merlin was quiet, and a bit on edge it seemed. Arthur said nothing as they continued to walk further in silence. He needed his friend to be in a proper state of mind for this journey was by no means going to be an easy one.

Arthur contemplated telling Merlin to stay. While he knew that the man rarely complied with his orders -- the entire test with Anhora being one of the many examples -- he wondered if it would be better for him to remain here. And at the same time -- while he would never admit this in so many words -- Arthur had grown dependent on Merlin. Not just in the way that a prince did for a servant, but in terms of needing a friend to, perhaps give him that bit of peace that he was not alone. Of course, Arthur could not sacrifice Merlin's life for this sake so needed to ensure that he was well enough to travel. If he was tired, or feeling as weak as he looked, or even as distracted as he seemed . . . Arthur could not ask him to ride out with him.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Arthur paused and turned to look at Merlin, standing in front of him. "You don't look fine Merlin," he began to say, knowing this much for certain. "If you are not feeling up to this Merlin, then perhaps it best if you stay. Help Gaius with the injured." Arthur did not say this in such a way that indicated he was angry with Merlin, or that he would be upset with deciding to stay. While Arthur was not the emotionally over expressive type, his words held a strong underlying concern and worry to them. Maybe the devastation was too great for him, for this was one of the worst attacks the kingdom has suffered. Arthur would understand, and he would not push him to go if he truly felt he could not accompany him to Escetia.

[em]

Arthur seemed generally concerned. This hadn’t passed Merlin’s notice but he didn’t want to delve into anymore unnecessary details. It was a dangerous topic enough without adding more fuel to the fire.
He would just have to bear the burdens he carried for now, and then once this was all over then perhaps he could return to his normal self. Not that it would be easy, but these things usually took time.

“I said I’ll be fine” he half snapped and then said calmly, “Really – don’t worry about me”.

But no. Arthur kept on. "If you are not feeling up to this Merlin, then perhaps it best if you stay. Help Gaius with the injured."

“Im going and that’s final” Merlin retorted. “Ive accompanied you everywhere else when there have been dangerous situations and I’ve still survived. At least let me come on this one, so as if I don’t – then at least I can die happy knowing that I tried”.

He felt his words coming out strong and snappish even more. For once in his life he felt as though he had no self-control over his actions whatsoever. The last time he’d felt something like this was when he had become frustrated at the fact that things happened for no reason, back in Ealdor. Objects would move by themselves, things would set themselves alight during the middle of the night.
It was only when he arrived in Camelot that a reasonable explanation had been given for this – and with the help of Gauis, the dragon (back when he knew where his loyalties lay) and the magic book, he’d learnt more of how to control himself and to use his powers to his advantage.

By this time they’d got to the doors that led out into the square. Merlin simply gave Arthur a look before heading out of the doors and down the steps. Leaving the Prince to dwell on his words.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur had no idea what was going on. He wasn't used to Merlin speaking to him in such a way. Had something happened? Had someone he'd been close to died during the attacks? Usually Merlin was the care and share type -- something that Arthur often called him a girl for -- but this time, he seemed to be keeping things to himself, only angrily answering Arthur's questions which stemmed from concern. This wasn't right. What had happened that troubled him so much, that he felt he could not tell him? Arthur was stubborn enough to not give up on it. Besides, they had the ride ahead of them and Arthur had been sort of expecting Merlin to fill the silence since he was the talker out of them. Plus, it usually helped alleviate the tension that was caused by what forced them on this endeavor to begin with.

He had expected Merlin to say something sarcastic or a joke when Arthur expressed his concern, but instead came out a tone that yet again, he was completely unfamiliar with. If Arthur was really paranoid, he would have thought he'd angered Merlin. But no. He had not done anything . . . too recently that would have done that. The last time he had acknowledged he'd done something wrong was when he'd dumped water on Merlin's head. That hadn't been very nice and he explained as much to him. But this was something grander, and it was driving Arthur insane! He stood there for a few prolonged moments as Merlin went first to the horses that were prepared for them. That too was a first. Usually he either went along with the prince, or fell behind him. Arthur would go crazy if Merlin was going to be like this for the entire journey! He needed to get to the bottom of his bizarre mood, and as soon as possible!

Arthur went to his horse, the stable boy assisting him on. He slightly cringed as he took the reigns, holding them with both arms, and feeling the severity of the wound. It seemed to be burning . . . making Arthur wonder if there was more than just blood being spilled from the wound of a dragon. But he would not question such things aloud. "You're not going to die," Arthur told him. No. Assured him. Arthur had told his men that they would not die when fighting the dragon from the castle walls. Usually Merlin wasn't the pessimist and it felt odd for the prince to take the role of optimism. Perhaps it wasn't that though. Maybe it was just a subtle promise he was making to him, that they would get through this journey alive and safe. With those words, he checked to see if Merlin was mounted on his horse, and flicked the reigns, kicking the horse on the side so that they could start on their quest.

[em]

Merlin secured the saddlebags on both horses, his mind was now whirring – everything that had happened seeping in and out at moments of which they thought crucial.
He knew that Arthur would continue to pester his ever-changing mood; he would just keep it vague and make little conversation in return. What would his father look like? Would he look like him? Would they share the same personality traits rather than blood and magic that ran through their veins. Would he turn him away? That was the one thing that Merlin was dreading. Balinor not accepting their pleas or Merlin’s confession (that he would make in private conversation with him) as his son.

What if Balinor didn’t exist? What if Gauis had lied and said there was a Dragon Lord still living in order to keep both Merlin and Arthur from harm and continue their destiny? Would Camelot fall whilst they were away and Gauis know of this already? There were so many questions that Merlin immediately brought a hand to his head and hissed with pain. He felt like he was on fire himself. A fire of curiosity that would burn him out.

He looked back as Arthur mounted his horse and saw his expression. “I still don’t think this is a good idea with your injury,” he stated, “it’s giving you pain”. The last thing Merlin needed was nursing Arthur on this trip. He hoped that the wound was healing nicely and that the pain was just the last little bit that Arthur would endure for a time.

"You're not going to die," Arthur told him.

“Im sure it would be a blessing for you” Merlin mumbled and mounted his horse. He tugged at the reins and followed Arthur who was now riding out of the courtyard.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"I still don’t think this is a good idea with your injury." Damn. So it was obvious. Or maybe Merlin just knew him too well. Either way, didn't matter. "I don't have a choice," he told him truthfully. Arthur could not regret how he got the wound to begin with: by pushing her out of harm's way. The thought that gave him solace was that him experiencing this pain, meant she was spared from it. He would never wish any harm to befall her and to know that she would not have to endure whatever discomfort he was right now, gave him peace of mind. Of course with everything else going on, peace of mind was not fully achieved. But he would take what small blessings he could. Her safety being one of them, and of course with them leaving now, neither of them would be able to know how the others were doing. It was why they needed to hurry there and hurry back. So that they could bring this all to an end, and reparations could begin . . . and the search for Morgana could commence.

"Besides, I can't very well send you off on your own. You'll get yourself killed," he said, only somewhat kiddingly. It was meant to lighten the mood a bit, for as Arthur previously established, it could certainly help with all the intensity. "I'm sure it would be a blessing for you." Upon hearing this, Arthur could not tell if Merlin was being serious or not. His previous phrases which Arthur would have thought were meant to be jokes had been spoken more harshly . . . surely he did not believe this though. Arthur would have to humor it a little bit though as they rode on; all in good fun of course. "Well not really. Decent servants are so hard to find. Wouldn't want to lose you . . . who else would muck out my stables so diligently?" He teased, making it sound as if that was Merlin's only skill, when in all honesty, Arthur knew it was not true. But what was true, and what ridiculing remarks he spoke were very contradicting of one another.

[em]

Choices. That was all it ever seemed to come down to lately. Merlin only knew too well, just what choices he’d made. Some he was completely filled with regret about. He knew he was unlocking death on everyone in Camelot as soon as he’d broken the chains that bound the dragon. how could he have been so stupid into believing that it would just fly off into the sunset?

“No one does” Merlin muttered and carried on riding in silence, trying to keep a distance between himself and Arthur just so he wouldn’t have to do any talking.

“Decent servants are so hard to find. Wouldn't want to lose you . . . who else would muck out my stables so diligently?"

Obviously someone else? Someone who didn’t have to bend over backwards in keeping Arthur safe? Someone who didn’t have to talk or unleash a massive 60ft dragon on everyone. Someone without a DESTINY! For the first time ever, Merlin could feel the anger start to boil within him, and he wasn’t even an angry person.

“You could always find someone else like Cedric” he replied bitterly. Now Cedric (aka Cornelius Segan) had been a different kettle of fish. He’d made Merlin to look like even more of an idiot than he already was, and had died as a result of his own greed – that and also allowing Segan’s soul to take over his body. “Besides, I could go before you – what would you do then?” he found himself asking something rather challenging. What would Arthur do? Probably die. There were enough people out there who already wanted his blood enough as it was.

He then decided to shut his mouth. He couldn’t be bothered with small talk – all that seemed to be on his mind right now was the possibility that he would be reunited with his father. The wave of nausea that now swept over him almost sent him tumbling from his horse, thankfully he managed to keep hold of the reins tightly.

“If you need to stop and rest your wound then we can” he called to Arthur.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur agreed with that much; no one had a choice. But at the same time, his responsibility to do something was far greater. It always had been from the second he was born. He was expected to rule Camelot. That meant that every single person's life rested on his shoulders for it was his inherited duty to protect them. So far, he was failing miserably. He did not have to personally know every individual who died to feel the sting of guilt and pain of remorse. He loved all the people and the fact that they were suffering . . . Arthur could not think of a small wound on his shoulder when so much was at stake. Arthur was glad when Merlin seemed to be speaking again, welcoming the distraction that his words often provided. Although, he was still having difficulty determining whether Merlin was being bitterly serious, or bitterly sarcastic. Either way, he usually really was not bitter but his tone suggested otherwise and Arthur still did not comprehend why.

The mentioned of Cedric though was an interesting one . . . considering all that it had led to. Merlin had warned him about the man, but Arthur did not believe him. Just as Merlin had warned him that his step mother was a troll -- which again Arthur did not believe. He trusted Merlin, but sometimes he said the most ridiculous things . . . to the point of being so outrageous that they were actually true. "He did seem like a good servant at first," Arthur began, really just trying to bother Merlin. "He seemed to take it as a high pleasure and privilege to serve me. You could always use lessons in that," he told Merlin mockingly. He didn't mean it. As dysfunctional as his friendship with Merlin was, it was still a friendship. A very strong one that he doubted many would understand. He knew that was why he could get away with saying all the things that he did, because at the end of the day he knew the man that he mercilessly teased, mocked, and tormented . . . was one of the truest friends he'd ever had and probably ever will.

"I highly doubt you will Merlin," he said in disbelief at the suggestion of Merlin dying before him. Granted, he was put in dangerous situations . . . probably more dangerous ones than he had ever encountered in his small home village of Ealdor. "But if that were to be the case, then what would I do . . . " He said, pretending like he was thinking of the subject. Quite frankly, the death of Merlin was not something he wished to heavily consider. The first time he had nearly died -- from drinking from the poisoned chalice -- Arthur had been so worried, so afraid that the man he had beginning to call a good friend would die because of him. It was what drove his actions, even if he did not go into detail about the incident and how he had felt when it happened. "Well for starters, I would have to find a new servant and train them all over again." He was kiddingly trivializing the very notion of Merlin's death. He was trying to keep a light mood in the air, and it was certainly not done by talking about him dying . . . yet, why did it seem the question sounded so, serious when Merlin asked it? As if he was genuinely curious about what Arthur would do if he were to die?

When he asked about whether he needed a rest, Arthur was not going to start talking about the pain that was shooting through his shoulder, and seemingly his entire body. It did however make him wonder if there was more to the dragon's attack than just blood and a bit of pain that would heal. "It's just a scratch Merlin. I'll be fine," he reiterated dismissively. "Besides, we can not afford to stop." Not when their time was so limited; not with every second they wasted another life could be in danger. The dragon would not stop until the city was destroyed; until he claimed his revenge for however long that took. Arthur feared for everyone, and worried for the knights and how they could get along. He trusted Leon with his life, but he also hated abandoning them during such a gruesome and violent attack.

[em]

"He did seem like a good servant at first,"

“Yeah” Merlin muttered, “Good for making me look like an idiot when really I was right about him”

"He seemed to take it as a high pleasure and privilege to serve me. You could always use lessons in that," Arthur was still singing his praises. Had Merlin’s mood been any different than it was now then he would’ve had the urge to clump Arthur round the head. No. He didn’t feel like doing anything today, except finding the man who had left his mother years ago.

Arthur still didn’t believe that he would die. Merlin felt he was slowly right now. Not just from everything that had happened but also with anxiety. “You’d be surprised” Merlin didn’t look at him as he said this. “After all it seems like im forever getting you out of situations”.
This was true. Then again Arthur would just dismiss this, call him an idiot and turn the tables to say that it was actually him saving Merlin.

“Sounds like fun – enjoy the search” Merlin shrugged. New servant or not – he would be dead so it didn’t really matter, “just make sure they wash your socks correctly, and shine your armour so they can see your face – I know you’re picky when it comes down to the little things” he raised his brows.

Merlin was still worried about Arthur’s wound. “You would say that – there’s no need to put on that hard princely persona – it is me you know, you can tell me if you’re feeling tired or want to stop. That is no scratch” he rolled his eyes, “that’s a massive hole”. It literally had been a chunk that had been missing from Arthur’s body. Merlin had cringed at first.

“We can if you decide to faint on me” Merlin retorted.

Ok, Arthur was right – there couldn’t be any delays on this mission, but when it came down to destiny and finding his father, he knew which one he’d pick any day.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"Good for making me look like an idiot when really I was right about him" Well that was true. Arthur wondered how much of an impact Cedric had . . . in moments such as where Merlin had fallen asleep while mucking out the stables. Had he done something? Arthur was inclined to think that he had for it seemed like it had been one thing after another. "You don't ever need help with that Merlin. You're quite capable of making yourself look like an idiot all on your own," he told him with a smirk. He knew of course Merlin had been right about Cedric, but knowing it and hearing it were two very different things. And well . . . . Arthur rather know it than hear Merlin gloat about such a thing. That 'I told you so' expression and tone of voice Merlin sometimes got, drove him crazy! Because . . . well, because Arthur didn't like to be wrong of course. Even though it did happen on occasion.

He did not miss Merlin's silence. He was both silent and talkative . . . but his talkative self was not what it usually was. His mind was distracted with something. Arthur could tell, and he was -- as before -- determined to get to the bottom of it. After all, they had a long journey ahead of them and quite a lot of ground to cover. He had time to figure it out. Before they returned to the castle and bring all of these horrible attacks to an end. "After all it seems like I'm forever getting you out of situations" Arthur made a face at this and shot Merlin a look of exaggerated disbelief. "Oh please Merlin. The only situation you can get me out of is having no clean clothes in the morning." Because well, Merlin did his laundry. "Even then, you can barley keep up with that." Oh how he enjoyed ridiculing and taunting his servant mercilessly. Which of course, flowed in nicely to the next topic, which was the imaginative search for a new servant. "I'm not picky!" He argued. "I just expect nothing less than the best. And, I got stuck with you. Which then of course forced me to lower my standards."

Hmmm. It seemed so much easier to mock him when he did not fire back with retorts, and yet . . . it was odd for him not to. "You need not worry," Arthur said in a more serious voice, once again trivializing the wound and pain. "It is merely a cut, one that will heal, thanks to Gaius." And Guinevère as she was the one who first tended to his wound. But bringing her up would only make the fear over her safety far too evident in his voice. "I won't faint," he added stubbornly. "Unlike you, I can handle a little pain," he added teasingly. He didn't want to admit it, but he was feeling the wound intensify. He knew -- or assumed -- with some rest once they arrived at an inn, he should be fun. For now, he needed to focus on finding Balinor. And of course on a smaller scale, figure out what was bothering his friend so much.

[em]

No matter how hard Arthur was trying to lighten the mood between them – Merlin really didn’t want to know. He wondered whether he could mutter some spell to make Arthur’s mouth just stay shut completely – but then again the ‘distraction’ of conversation was slightly taking Merlin’s mind off of the current situation that they were in.

“Idiot or not – I was still right” he huffed

There was silence for a while. To Arthur it would normally be a beautiful thing but he seemed to be annoyed that Merlin wasn’t making the effort to talk. Why should he even bother talking about the trivial things when people were back in Camelot dying, oh and the fact that his father was somewhere that they were headed for was another thing.
Merlin wanted to tell Arthur so much – about his father (of course that would be completely out of the question), about their destiny. Everything. Yet it would all end in tears on both sides. Merlin wasn’t prepared to give up all that he’d strived to work towards with just one comment of ‘oh yeah by the way - I have magic and im friends with a dragon’. "Oh please Merlin. The only situation you can get me out of is having no clean clothes in the morning." He just about heard Arthur say.

“And what do I get in return?” Merlin mumbled, “oh yes – your company”. He didn’t care whether Arthur had heard that or not, choosing to make his voice more audible with the next comment. “Have you finished bantering away yet?”. Making Arthur shut up wasn’t easy.

"I just expect nothing less than the best. And, I got stuck with you. Which then of course forced me to lower my standards."

“I didn’t think you had any” Merlin replied and conveniently made his horse quicken its pace a little.

Now Arthur was trying to give the most ridiculous reasons of why his wound would be fine. “Your funeral” Merlin just shrugged. If Arthur fainted and fell from his horse then that was his own fault. But Merlin knew he wouldn’t just leave him there. He’d work a bit of magic on him to help out, but then it would be done to normal methods of healing that he’d learnt by watching Gauis.

Every step the horses made, Merlin could sense it being a step closer to his father.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Alright. Something was most definitely wrong with Merlin. For a man who practically wore his emotions on his sleeve, it was not difficult to determine that something was drastically effecting him. But if he was not going to say what it was -- another rarity for the man -- then Arthur knew that pressing him right now was useless. He remained silent, despite Merlin sarcastic remarks, or insults. He watched him quicken the pace of his horse and did the same, so that they were alongside each other once more. So that his next words could be clearly heard. "I don't know what has got you in such a mood," he began to say. It could be an opening for him to talk about it, but Arthur was not going to directly ask about it again. "But whatever it is you need to push it aside for now." This time, it was not because Arthur was overly curious to annoyed with Merlin's unnatural silence. It was for bigger reasons.

"As you already know, there is a great deal at stake. I need you entirely focused right now." On their mission. On what they were doing. He was not sure how clouded the man's mind was . . . but if it was enough to deem him to silence -- something that Arthur had always thought an impossibility -- then it had to be something rather large. Something that he did not want to compromise the mission. Knowing however, that whatever it was was greatly affecting his friend, Arthur's tone was not overly harsh. It was just a reminder . . . that an entire kingdom was at stake; that people were dying; that it was up to the two of them to restore Camelot to safety. And despite Arthur's constant mockery at how useless Merlin was, he knew in his heart and mind it was not true. He needed another's help right now . . . he needed his friend's help with this. After all, there was a reason that Arthur had wanted Merlin to go with him, rather than a trained knight.

With those words, Arthur kicked his horse a little so that it went faster up ahead. Clearly, Merlin did not want to talk . . . that much was evident. So perhaps a silent passage of time would do them good? Who knows. It could either be better than having a one sided conversation -- by yourself -- or worse. Either way, Arthur was about to find out for he knew that pushing Merlin for answers was not getting them anywhere. That if he wanted to talk, he would reveal to him what had such a heavy hold on him right now. And Arthur truly hoped he did open up to him.

[em]

Push his feelings aside? That was all well and good for Arthur to say. He didn’t show hardly any emotion at all – any kind of upset and torment would deem him weak and of course a Prince couldn’t be seen as that. Merlin however didn’t give a flying faddoodle about whether Arthur could read into him or not. As far as he was concerned the combination of a pilgrimage to meet his father who was the only man alive to tame the dragon that was slaughtering most of Camelot was very high up on the feelings and emotions scale.

“How can I focus when people are dying!”? Merlin snapped. He didn’t bother looking over his shoulder to see Arthur’s reaction. This was all his doing. It was his fault. If he hadn’t had been tricked by the dragon then he’d be sat back in Camelot, testing out one of Gauis’ disgusting remedies and washing Arthur’s socks. But no. This was his punishment. The least Arthur could do was just let him get on with it and think of what could happen should the worst be that they couldn’t trace Balinor.

Something snapped inside him. He was angry. Angry with himself for being so gullible. Angry that information had been kept from him. Angry that the blood of every dead citizen in Camelot was practically dripping from his hands. He stopped his horse, dismounted and tore off his scarf, stamping it into the ground, kicking it. What use was it? Nothing – just like him, destiny or not. Was the dragon even telling the truth about that part? Probably not.
With that he walked over to a tree and kicked it, his hands clenched in anger and frustration that were seeping into his mind and wanting to be free. With one swift movement his fists connected with the tree – hands then running through his hair before he leant back against the trunk and slid down it. His face didn’t even show any sign of expression. He felt drained.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur pulled his horse to a halt when he noticed Merlin dismount. What the hell was he doing! Arthur watched him for a moment as he went over to a tree and began beating it. Bloody hell. What on earth had gotten into him? This was not the first attack on the kingdom where people had died -- though it had indeed been one of the more severe ones. "How can I focus when people are dying!?" That was one of the hardest things. To focus on the task at hand, while having too also acknowledge the pain and suffering of the people. It was something that Arthur could never grow used to, but also why he kept his emotions under wraps for if he expressed them all . . . nothing would get accomplished. He would be seen as weak and insecure rather than strong and confident.

For in times of turmoil, people needed a strong leader of the army that they trusted their security with . . . someone they could look to to lead them out of danger. It was not only Arthur who filled this role but also all the knights of Camelot. Right now however, it was Merlin and Arthur whom the people were resting their hope in: for it was up to them to find Balinor. Arthur also dismounted from his horse, slightly cringing, before quickly composing himself once more and walking towards Merlin. They didn't have time for this! Each second they spent idly, was one second closer towards the next attack; for he only attacked at night . . . a pattern that had been quickly established. "You're right Merlin, people are dying." Arthur was not going to sugar coat the truth.

The harsh reality of the situation was that there were losing innocent civilians, all thanks to one damn vengeful dragon. "But those who are still living in fear, are trusting us to lead them to safety." To eliminate the threat by finding the dragonlord. "And we aren't going to do it by senselessly beating a tree." Obviously. "So you need to pick yourself up, and concentrate. For each minute we waste, is another minute that the people are in danger." Arthur was not sure if his words would have any effect on Merlin, for he had been in a mood ever since they left. But if he could not get himself together, then Arthur was going to send him back to Camelot.

[em]

Merlin looked up from where he was now slouched against the tree, Arthur still on his horse and looking very astonished at his sudden outburst. This was the first time in ages that Merlin felt as though he was fighting a battle that he couldn’t win. All he wanted was to just be rid of it all – his destiny, his troubles. Why on earth had he even thought that going with Arthur to search for his father was a good idea? He could feel a few tears pricking at the back of his eyes. Merlin didn’t want Arthur to see him in such a state, but then again at the same time he neither worried nor cared about what his friend thought. Why was it always him who had to put things right? Why was it always him who had to dig himself out of the loopholes that he’d dug? Oh wait, because he was too soft and always thought that going with his heart was a good idea!

Arthur finally spoke. Merlin wondered what he could possibly say after he’d just seen his servant have a mental breakdown and take it out on a tree. His words rang clear – merlin looked up at him blankly. “You saw it yourself – nothing is going to bring that dragon down, dragon lord or not – we don’t even know if he’s still alive, and if he isn’t? Then what? “He picked himself up and paced. If Merlin hadn’t have been able to make the dragon see sense then would a dragon lord? Especially one who had not been in Camelot for over 20 years. It was then Merlin remembered that this man was his father, and obviously had an ability, one for a purpose just like him. Except he’d used it and had then been banished for doing so.

Merlin had contemplated many times as to what Arthur would think, should he ever find out about his magic. For one he would never be welcome in Camelot again, and every door would close to him. The dragon had said that he and Arthur would unite Albion. But at what cost?

“I’m tired Arthur, tired of everything and everyone. You can call me a wimp, weak – whatever…I don’t care, but I’m done. In all honesty I think it would be a blessing in disguise if I were killed by the dragon, and I mean that” he looked at Arthur seriously.