The Last Hope

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur did not like hearing such speak. Not from Merlin, nor from anyone. Defeatism was no way to deal with any manner. And Merlin was usually the optimist; always finding something good and encouraging to say. Which was why he had become a confidant to Arthur . . . but hearing him speak now, made him wonder where his friend had gone. For he did not like this attitude that replaced him. It was far too cynical. These were Arthur's fears too; not being able to stop the dragon. But they had to at least try. What other choice did they have? If Balinor failed them, or the plan itself failed . . . then Arthur would die trying to defend Camelot. For he was not going to sit here and mourn the loss of the battle before it was over. Such was not in his nature, and he did not wish to hear others speak with such a mindset. But Merlin continued on, saying that he wished it was a good thing if the dragon killed him.

Arthur wanted to demandingly ask how he could say such a thing. Those that were still alive should be grateful, for so many had died. They should not wish themselves dead, but help those who were still living. He would not call Merlin a selfish man but hearing these words sounded . . . ungrateful. And Arthur could not convince him to fight for something, if his heart was already claiming defeat. He could not do this right now. He could not deal with this pessimistic attitude for there was too much at stake. Hearing Merlin's words though made Arthur regret asking him to come. He should have stayed in Camelot if he felt this way. Which lead to the Prince's next words. Suppressing a sigh, he spoke in a low but sure voice. "Go home Merlin," he told him. There was no anger in his voice, but a strong certainty that Merlin was not up for this journey.

"Return to Camelot. Help Gaius." Since there were a great many patients that would need tending to, since the knights would take care of the defenses. Another thought also struck in the prince's mind should Merlin return home. "And take care of Guinevère," he added, already missing her and fearing that something had happened to her. His mind nor heart would rest until he saw her when he returned. But at least this way, he could ask one of his most trusted friends to take care of the woman he loved. For it was not something he would ask of just anyone. Not wanting to allow his emotions to show, he gave Merlin a final look. "I will return as soon as possible," he added speaking n terms of the fact that Merlin would indeed be returning to the city. And with those words, Arthur turned around and walked back to his horse, getting ready to press on but this time, without the company of friend.

[em]

Arthur was telling him to go back to Camelot. Merlin didn’t know what to think right now, his mind was a mixture of emotions and his head was throbbing painfully. Merlin put a hand to his forehead to check that he wasn’t burning up. A thousand images were running through his mind now. The dragon attack, Camelot burning, Arthur and everyone he knew dead. And to finish it all, he was the only person still standing around those who were lying motionless. The thought sickened him – his words earlier made him feel just as worse.

Merlin didn’t know what to choose. To go on with Arthur on what could potentially be a wasted journey, should his father actually turn out to be dead. Or go back to Camelot to just fight the battle that he couldn’t win. Merlin knew he wasn’t indestructible, but he also knew that many like him had died without having a chance to plead their cases. With him still on the earth, he could at least change Camelot for the better. It was like the dragon said – and the only thing that truly had made sense to him, even now it seemed to become clearer – he was one side of the coin.

“You’re too weak to go alone” Merlin told him, “with a wound that is giving you more trouble than it’s worth, it’s easy to see that you’re in pain, and don’t deny it Arthur.” He’d seen the prince wince the odd few times whilst they had been riding, and it didn’t look good from where Merlin was sitting.

He allowed some silence to come between them for a few moments, before breaking it and apologising for his actions. “I’m sorry”.

OOC: blah!

[Arthur Pendragon]

Ordinarily, Arthur did not like being called weak . . . but in this case, Merlin was right. He felt as if his arm was getting worse rather than better, though he would make no mention of it. What surprised him more was that Merlin was not taking advantage of the offer he had made to him to return to the city. "I can manage," he told him. It was not in an stubborn way . . . but more so in a way that Arthur did not wish his wound to be the reason he came with him. As Arthur mounted his horse, he watched Merlin carefully. He knew that Merlin was rather stubborn too, for he had agreed to come with him after all. He paused, listening to Merlin apologize. He could not blame him. He was not oblivious to the fact that Merlin was not used to these sort of tasks . . . well, that is before he met Arthur. "This is a difficult task Merlin," Arthur began to say. He did not want to fully dissuade Merlin from coming, but after seeing the state he was in . . . he just seemed so much more emotionally fragile than normal.

"I will not think any differently of you nor consider you a coward or weak if you return to the city." And Arthur truly meant it. Merlin would still remain a close friend, whether he came with him or not. His previous words of telling him to go home, were dismissive but because Merlin was not in a good state of mind right now, and that was clear in his actions and words. While Arthur knew it was his job to offer morale, especially during times of intensity, he never thought he would have to do it for Merlin, for usually it was the other way around. If he still wanted to come with him, he needed him to stabilize himself. "I know none of this is easy Merlin, but what choice is there. If it is too much, then I will understand your reasons for going back." This was the moment for him to decide. Arthur would obviously welcome the company, but would not dwell on it if Merlin did not remain with him. "But should you decide to come, I need you focused," he added.

[em]

He needed to swallow it all up. Merlin had slowly learnt to become thick skinned when it came down to making choices for what he believed was right – even if most of them were wrong. He had to remember that this was just like anything else he’d faced – except it wasn’t. It was far greater than that, than any witch, dragon or creature could throw at him. This was life in his hands.

“I’m not going back” he shook his head quickly at Arthur’s suggestion. “I’m sorry – I just…all those people back in Camelot are relying on us to bring them this one person. If we fail then I don’t know what to do”
Dying seemed like the only option – but all the while he found himself thinking of a plan b in case they couldn’t find Balinor. The only thing he’d achieved so far on this mission was kicking a tree and yelling at Arthur. Not that either of those were achievements. Merlin straightened himself up and advanced towards his horse that was patiently waiting alongside Arthur’s. He had to get a grip and focus on Camelot and Arthur, and if the word ‘destiny’ screamed at him one more time he was sure that he would go mad. Destiny or not – Merlin knew all they could do was try.

“I’ll focus- I’m sorry, I really don’t know what came over me” he mumbled. He knew. Arthur most likely thought it was just him thinking that there wasn’t any option left. But it was more than that. This was family. Not just Balinor – his father – but his family in Camelot. Gwen, Gauis – even Uther! And Merlin had never even had that thought cross his mind before until now when everything truly mattered. But they were. They were all family to him, even if they did not wish to be.

“Come on, we’re wasting time just standing here – let’s get going…” he paused, “I mean, let’s get going when you’re ready, sire”

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was not sure how he felt about Merlin's refusal to return home to Camelot. While it was always a comfort to have his company, he could not have him come if he was going to be this . . . uncertain. If he was going to wish he was dead, and allow the pressure to overwhelm him. Arthur understood better than anyone how easy this was, for if he allowed it to happen every time he ventured on a journey, or fought creatures that were a threat to the kingdom . . . he would not be where he is today. But for others, he knew it was difficult. Especially Merlin who had not been trained as a knight, who did not have the same skills in combat. But was still a strongly honorable man. "Then do not think along those lines," Arthur told him, when he suggested the possibility of failure. "Believe that we will succeed. Focus on that." It was important to raise morale during times like this, and while it was usually Merlin who was the optimistic and giving hope . . . for some reason, it had shifted and Arthur now was the one saying such words.

Arthur remained silent when Merlin assured him that he would focus. He hoped he was right. For they could not afford to break down right now. "I suppose I can't send you back to Camelot on your own. You'll get yourself killed," he said mockingly. Perhaps some light teasing would help ease some of the tension of everything. Bring the mood to a lighter air. Arthur had already mounted his horse before, as he had told Merlin to return to Camelot, so he was ready for whenever Merlin was. "I'm waiting for you then," he told him, lightly flicking the reigns of his horse as it began to move forward to a steady walk, obviously not going too fast so that once Merlin mounted and set off, it would only take a few steps to catch up. It was merely Arthur's indication that they needed to move forward, and not make any more stops until they got to their destination.

[em]

Merlin hoped that any negative thoughts would disappear from his mind. If the ride was that long then that would give him enough time to contemplate and think up a plan b. he didn’t think that Arthur had one anyway – apart from returning to Camelot and fighting until the death. He couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not after how far they had come together.

“I know we will” Merlin told him, if anyone needed an ego massage at the moment then it was Arthur. “Because we have you, and the Knights”.
He almost wanted to throw up at the cheesiness of the line but if he couldn’t take on a dragon with magic, then hopefully there was some hope with what they had left. Even if it had cost them some well-trained men already.

Merlin felt very much like he had a split personality of the subject at the moment. It was all well and good, but he knew now he needed to focus, just like Arthur had told him to. "I suppose I can't send you back to Camelot on your own. You'll get yourself killed," he was now saying. A small smile tugged at Merlin’s lips. “Oh, you have no idea”. With that he tugged on the reins of his horse and the pair of them moved on.

“What will you do?” he called back to Arthur, “if we find Balinor?”
Merlin knew what he had to do, but if Arthur went about this the wrong way (which he very much doubted) then all would be lost.

[Arthur Pendragon]

“I know we will. Because we have you, and the Knights." Arthur looked at Merlin when he said this. It was not a mocking or sarcastic expression. It was a bit curious and . . . appreciative. That he seemed to be hanging on to the hope of success. While Arthur constantly felt the pressure in his role, when Merlin said such things to him, he only felt encouraged rather than burdened. A skill that only he and Guinevère seemed to have. For with anyone else . . . he felt the pressure more than anything. He looked back ahead, though the comment was not out of mind. "Don't forget an overly bold and foolishly courageous man servant," he said teasingly. Bold and courageous were certainly words that described him; but Arthur was merely trying to keep the mood light. Besides, Merlin knew him well enough to know that while he meant it as a joke, there was an element of sincerity to it. "I'm glad you came Merlin," he told him in a less joking mood as he gave him a faint smile. There was a reason that he had asked Merlin to come with him, rather than any of the other knights.

"What will you do? If we find Balinor?" This, was an excellent question. Arthur had thought about that a great deal. That even when they found Balinor, what would he say to him? How could he convince him to save a kingdom that condemned him? As tempting as the thought was, he knew he couldn't just hit him on the head with something and drag him back to Camelot. "Reason with him," he began to say. "Tell him what is at stake, of all the people who are suffering, and how he is the only one who can help." Would he be like all those other bitter sorcerers or practitioners of magic, who blamed an entire kingdom for one king's judgment? Willing to let innocent people die? "And pray that he has a conscience." Enough of one that would convince him to return with him, so that they could put a stop to the dragon attacks. "What would you do?" He asked him, wondering if there was another way, should Balinor not comply. Arthur valued Merlin's opinion and advice tremendously, often asking him questions that he would not ask anyone else . . . such as this one.

[em]

Merlin smirked at Arthur’s comment about being a bold and foolish manservant. It was true, yes, but then again Arthur didn’t know just how much he needed him. Not that Merlin was blowing his own trumpet or anything. He nodded, “I couldn’t let you go off all on your own, who knows what might have happened. For a start you don’t exactly sit pretty on a horse, for all I know you could’ve broken your neck, and then what?” he joked before turning serious, “anyway…I wanted to”.

With the conversation now turned once again to Balinor, Arthur was throwing out what he’d do should they actually find him. What would Merlin himself do? He didn’t really know in all honesty. Probably stand there and gawp like an idiot, letting Arthur do all the talking. “I’m not really good with words” he shrugged, “I’d just stand there and keep my mouth shut while you tell him about it all”. He paused briefly before looking across to Arthur.
“But if I was? Then I’d ask him if he had a heart before asking for his help”

There was no point in seeking help from someone neither cared for Camelot nor the amount of lives at stake. Merlin would try again single handed if he had to – and even take drastic measures just to keep them all alive. He just hoped that the journey they were both making wasn’t a wasted one – especially with Arthur and the way he was. He was such a stubborn ass that Merlin just wanted him to stop and rest – even if it were for a few moments. But no. That was Arthur all over. Not giving up until he put himself into a comatose state.

“Are you sure that your wound is alright? It doesn’t look too good from where I’m sitting and neither do you…you look…pasty, milky even” he said trying to think up suitable descriptions to sum up Arthur’s complexion. “In fact, I might just think up a new nickname for you – personally milky sounds stupid, but snowy…I quite like that. Snowy.”

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Merlin's remark about him not being able to go off on his own. "You give yourself far too much credit. I would have been just fine. It's you who are the clumsy one. And ends up in the most trouble." He was just mocking him . . . something that he never quite kept minimal. Besides, it helped lighten the mood a bit. He'd been starting to get worried when Merlin was quiet, but now, he was being himself again. And that was what Arthur wanted; for him to have his best friend back. Especially during such a time where he knew the burden on them and their task was imperative for the kingdom. If they allowed themselves to just dwell in the seriousness of the situation . . . it would be far too intense. And such was never quite the nature of their friendship."I’m not really good with words." Arthur smirked. "No argument there," he teased. "Wouldn't want him to get scared off by you."

He knew that was not likely to happen; that Merlin tended to be rather good at making friends, but also at making enemies. He did not doubt his capabilities to be convincing, but still preferred the talking be left up to him. He then continued to listen with a more serious frame of mind when Merlin went on to give an honest response to Arthur's question. "We'll just have to see what kind of man he is. Or what kind of man he has become." An overly bitter one that would blame an entire kingdom and be willing to let them suffer? Or one who held enough compassion to use his gifts for good. Arthur was unsure what would come out of this. He knew his father would not execute him -- and perhaps that reassurance would encourage the man to aid them. Would this be a way to show that not all those with magic was evil? The beginning to seeing how it could be used for good? Arthur was distracted from his thoughts when Merlin questioned his wound. Truth be told, it only seemed to be getting more painful.

But he assumed that was just because the cut was extremely deep. Either way, it was well worth it. For he would take on this pain if it meant that Guinevère did not have to. "It's fine," he assured him once more. "I had it tended to." By Gaius and then Guinevère had bandaged it for him. A stolen moment with her; one where she had expressed gratitude and he had expressed his affection . . . both through words. Arthur made a face when Merlin started going on about his complexion. "Snowy?" He repeated with strong disapproval. "You're far paler than I am Merlin. It hardly seems like a fitting nickname for me. It is better suited for you," he retorted. "Chicken bone," he added with a smirk, not having forgotten that little nickname he'd given Merlin a few years ago. He was white like one, and he was as scrawny as one. It seemed so very perfect for him! Which was why Arthur continued to use it.

[em]

Merlin smiled lightly, “Because you always seem to find it”. It was true though. Arthur found trouble and trouble found him. Then it was up to Merlin to get him out of even the trickiest situations. Thankfully this time this wasn’t Arthur’s thought. It was his.

He shifted about on the saddle, feeling his behind starting to go numb. As emotional as he had been earlier, Merlin knew that this was indeed a vital mission. He wanted to see and find out who this Balinor was. What he was really like. Merlin had never really questioned his mother about the whereabouts of his father as he was growing up, as he hadn’t been around then Merlin knew he really didn’t have much of a reason to. “Mmm” was all he could really reply to Arthur. The Prince was right after all.

Merlin shot a sideways glance to Arthur. Despite his protests that he was well and truly ok, Merlin could see that the wound was paining him. “Tended to or not, it can still become infected”. He’d picked that up from Gauis. Merlin almost felt like a physician himself with the amount of wounds and medicine related problems he’d seen.
“Oh I wouldn’t say that” Merlin smirked at the prince’s response to his new nickname, “you’re looking pret-ty pale yourself at the moment…snowy” he added just to make a point.

“And the reason I’m such a ‘chicken bone’ is because you have me running around 24/7, so I hardly have time to sit down and eat. You on the other hand…now…you need to run around some more and eat less – tightening that armour the other day was like trying to button up a baby’s jacket around a sack of grain” he joked, “are you sure you’re following my diet plan I gave you?”. Yes. The diet plan of one sausage, one slice of chicken and an apple.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"Because you always seem to find it." Sadly, that seemed to be true. It seemed like trouble always found him, but then again he was with Merlin most of the time. "I think you have something to do with that. My life wasn't half as chaotic as it was before I met you." Which, wasn't entirely true. He was a prince, it was expected for things to be unsafe for him. He knew that both Merlin and Guinevère had matured him in ways no one else could. Merlin as a brother, Guinevère as the love of his life. He would not be the man he was today, had their positive influence in his life been absent from him. And he was grateful every day for knowing them. Both in incredibly different ways, but he still valued them both. When Merlin suggested the possibility of it being infected, Arthur wondered if that could be it. If that could be the reason that the pain seemed to be intensifying rather than settling.

"There is nothing that can be done about it now. I will have someone take a look at it when we return." If there was time for right now, his wound was not his priority. The safety of Camelot was. Arthur rolled his eyes when Merlin accused him of looking pale, unsure if that was true. For if he looked as he felt, then he could indeed be pale. But he was not about to admit that to Merlin. "I'm not sure when the last time you looked in the mirror was Merlin, but I assure you that your ridiculous nickname is more fitting for you." Snowy. He refused to be called snowy! But when the topic of chicken bone came up, Arthur couldn't help but smirk. The smirk however faded when Merlin began to target his weight. "It is called muscle Merlin. Something you would know nothing about, for you can barley lift a sword without spraining yourself," he said with exaggerated humor and mocking. "Your diet plan was complete nonsense." He refused to believe that he was fat; that he needed to lose weight.

[em]

“My life wasn't half as chaotic as it was before I met you.". That much was true – neither had been Merlin’s. “You never know, it could be destiny” Merlin shrugged as they rode on – that would give Arthur something to think about. He wasn’t complaining that he and Arthur fond trouble though. They’d both grown since that first meeting of theirs. Merlin in his powers and loyalty and Arthur in his duty and attitude.

He looked back to Arthur and raised a brow when he insisted on being fine. He was anything but, but as he was such a stubborn ass then Merlin wasn’t going to delve into the subject too much. He could try to boss Arthur around as much as he liked, but the Prince wasn’t having any of it. “Alright, but don’t come crying to me when you’re complaining of a tummy ache, snowy” he smirked. Even if the wound was higher, the fever it induced could travel everywhere.
"I'm not sure when the last time you looked in the mirror was Merlin, but I assure you that your ridiculous nickname is more fitting for you." Arthur ranted back – oh yes, now the conversation was turning into a slanging match as usual.

“This morning, actually…” Merlin smirked, “and I saw a god” he mused and looked pretty pleased. “Which is more than I can say for you – was that a crack I saw in yours when I was polishing it the other day?”

Arthur’s face changed dramatically when merlin mentioned his weight. Yes, he’d once again hit a nerve. Arthur HATED anyone commenting on his weight.
“You keep telling yourself that but look at the facts! The more you believe is muscle is actually the reason for you to eat more…” he told him, “thus making you put on even more weight until you sit on a chair and break it, or even worse – become well and truly stuck”. he mumbled fastly and looked to Arthur, “it wasn't until you caved and started to eat like an animal."

[Arthur Pendragon]

"You never know, it could be destiny." These words were indeed ones to ponder over. Arthur wondered if it was. If he had somehow been meant to meet Merlin. For he'd never quite met anyone as loyal as him. And he was not going to deny the fact that the man saved his life before. It was strange. Something that caused a pensive silence to follow, as Arthur got caught in the deeper meaning of his words. But that was just inside. On the surface, he was not quite finished mocking Merlin. "Don't get all cheesy on me now," he said sarcastically. Not truly dismissing the words. Odd how it was destined for him to become such good friends with a servant . . . just as if it had seemed to be destined for him to fall in love with one. Arthur's life had changed more in this past year than he'd ever thought possible. And these two people -- Guinevère and Merlin -- had truly changed him for the better.

"Alright, but don’t come crying to me when you’re complaining of a tummy ache, snowy." Arthur rolled his eyes. Though deep down, he hoped it wouldn't turn into anything more serious. He did not think Merlin was lying when he said he didn't look well, but he also was not willing to just stop and check his wound. Not when time was of the essence. So he would push it away and solely focus on the task at hand. The task of paramount importance. When Merlin commented that he saw a 'god' Arthur couldn't help but let out a strongly sarcastic chuckle. "Then you were clearly dreaming. Either that, or Gaius needs to check your eye sight," he mocked. He glared at him when he asked if he saw a crack -- suggesting that his appearance had caused it. His glare remained when Merlin went on about his weight. Indeed, a sensitive subject for Arthur knew for a fact that he was not fat!

"Alright then. Let's look at the facts Merlin. Fact one, I will beat you senseless with my mace if you keep talking like that." A fact and a threat. Obviously, not one that he would actually carry out doing. As much as he gave Merlin a hard time, he would never actually cause him physical harm. He seemed perfectly capable of doing that all on his own. "Here's another fact. You can barely move in chain mail and armor. So when I do beat you mercilessly, then you will have no protection nor the agility to move." Arthur was exaggerating, for he knew Merlin could move in such armor. He had proven it in Ealdor. He was just enjoying the mockery and jibes at his expense . . . just like he always did. "And fact number three." Nope. Arthur was not quite finished. "You're an idiot." The most basic fact of them all. One that he truly didn't believe, but enjoyed calling him. So with that, smirked at his friend rather than glared.

[em]

Merlin shot Arthur a shocked look, "Hey! I like cheese! And bread for that matter....mmmmmm cheese and bread - I could really use some of that now" he remebered that Gauis had packed them a stash of food for the journey, although neither had bothered to delve into it yet.

He could see Arthur's face again, when he spoke about seeing a god in the mirror, and was quite offended when he begged to differ."Then you were clearly dreaming. Either that, or Gaius needs to check your eye sight," Merlin glared at this, "my eyesight is perfectly avaerage thanks, how's yours? Oh that's right, delerious...because you're getting kind of chubby there" "Alright then. Let's look at the facts Merlin. Fact one, I will beat you senseless with my mace if you keep talking like that." Merlin poked fun at him and then sighed. "Alright i'll stop with the fat jokes - I know how sensative you are, speaking of which...when's lunch?" But no, Arthur was now on one of his 'Lets put Merlin down in so many ways' rambles. "Here's another fact. You can barely move in chain mail and armor. So when I do beat you mercilessly, then you will have no protection nor the agility to move."

"Hey! if you remeber rightly I was very good when you were whacking me around the head with a mace!" he defended himself, "And fact number three." Merlin rolled his eyes, "of course, there's always a three" he muttered. "You're an idiot."
Merlin looked to Arthur, "Are you quite finished with insulting every little thing about me?" he asked, not waiting for Arthur to even answer, "good, now shut up and find a spot to stop, you're eating even if i have to force it down your throat." If Arthur wouldnt let him look at his wound, then he'd sure as hell eat lunch.