Cold Iron - part 5B
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: Cold Iron - part 5B
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Balinor
Warning: none
Summary: Balinor was a fool trusting that all would be right in the end. For Uther was a tyrant and the prince a naïve boy, and when Balinor saved Camelot, death was to be his reward.
Word Count:1000
Camelot_drabble Prompt: 509 in public
Author's Notes: unbetaed, AU for The Last Dragonlord, also I’ve always been suspicious of how Gaius knew about the crystals around Dagr and Ebor’s necks in the Gwaine episode. He seemed to know a lot about them.
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
-------------------
Arthur sighed, then began to help Merlin. “I don’t see how they are going to think this is Balinor. He doesn’t look like him at all. I suppose we could burn the body and bring back the ashes, but my father would be suspicious not to have seen the body.”
Merlin just smirked, then pulled out the crystal.
Smiling, Balinor took it from him and held it up. “If it worked with Gaius, with the right spell, it could certainly work here, too.” It could be easily done with the right incantation, but Balinor’s magical abilities were still barely there.
“No spells, no magic. I can’t condone it. Damn it, why does everything have to be so complicated?” Arthur sat back on his heels.
“Keeping your princely honour intact?” Merlin finished taking the last of the armour off, then went over to his horse and pulled out a tunic and trousers, finer than anything Balinor had worn in many years. It looked almost royal. When Arthur sputtered, Merlin gave him another grin, then handed the clothes over to Balinor. “These should fit you. We have to switch your clothes so we can show Uther something.”
And reaching in again, Merlin pulled out a meat pie, wrapped in waxed cloth, and gave it to Balinor.
While Balinor wolfed it down, Merlin murmured to Arthur. “They are all things you were going to throw away anyway. You rip your clothes so often that I can’t keep up and well, you should lay off the herbed capons.”
“I am not fat,” Arthur grumbled.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Merlin said, grinning at Arthur, then seeing that Balinor had finished, pointed to the woods. “Arthur, I think you are going to need to reconnoitre the area. You know, hunter things or maybe find some water?” He shoved an almost full waterskin at him, then nodded toward Balinor. “Didn’t see it, right?”
“Fine,” Arthur snapped, then stomped off into the woods.
Merlin immediately turned to Balinor. “Look, we don’t have much time. In order for the crystal to work, we need some of your blood smeared on it. Do you think you can-?” He nodded to the gemstone.
“My magic is faint at best,” Balinor said.
Shrugging, Merlin took the stone from him. “Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ve got more than enough.” With that, he pulled out a knife and gestured toward Balinor’s hand. “It only takes a drop or two.”
With that, Balinor nodded, then pressed the blade into his thumb. Merlin smeared the bead of blood onto the stone, and chanted, “Þece treowee andwlitan heora fram gesiht eallra.”
Balinor watched his son’s eyes turn gold, bright and perfect. Merlin seemed to find the whole thing effortless, as if it were nothing, and when the spell was done, Merlin said, “Gaius says that I don’t just have magic, that I am magic. It’s easy. Mum had fits when I was young, always moving things and catching hell for it.”
“Does Arthur know?” Balinor said, not wanting to worry but Merlin was so young and after all the terrible things Balinor had seen, he wanted to protect him from them all.
Merlin’s grin turned sour. “No. No, he… well, you see how he is. And with that terrible father of his, I’m not sure he can ever know. And I want him to but well, it’s complicated.”
“You could come with me. I could teach you so many things and I know living in a cave isn’t exactly a castle, but it has to be better than that,” Balinor said.
Shaking his head, Merlin said, “He’s my destiny. He’s my, well, everything. It’s hard to explain. Thank you for offering but I can’t leave him. He’d be dead inside a week and maybe, just maybe, he might be better than his father if given half a chance.”
Balinor could understand that. Once he’d believed in justice and a fair king, but it had turned out so terribly wrong. But Merlin had to learn, too, even if it destroyed him in the end.
With that, he pulled off his tunic and braies, then shoved on the prince’s castoffs. Helping Merlin to put Balinor’s clothes onto the dead body was the least he could do although it was pretty disgusting. But Merlin muttered something under his breath and the smell went away, the flesh solidifying a bit so that the man looked freshly killed.
Merlin hung the crystal around the man’s neck, and it was terrifying and amazing to watch the dead soldier’s face morph into his own.
Just in time, too. Arthur came back, took one look at the dead man, then glared at Merlin a moment. Under his breath, he grumbled, looking as if he’d swallowed something distasteful, “No magic there.” But he did help Merlin load the body onto Merlin’s horse.
“We must leave. The patrol will be annoyingly perturbed at my disappearance, and I would prefer they don’t discover you. The explanations would be uncomfortable at best.” With that, Arthur climbed onto his horse. “I’m sorry but you can’t come back to Camelot. If things were different, I might forgive your sorcery as a reward for your service to my people, but now is not the time. But I do wish you well. You saved my kingdom, and I will always be grateful for it.”
Merlin seemed more upset, but he didn’t say much, just gave Balinor the rest of the food and the sword. “Perhaps some day, we will meet again.” The ‘father’ remained unspoken, but it was as loud as a shout.
Pulling Merlin into a hug, whispering into his ear, Balinor said, “You make me proud, son. You make me so very proud.”
When he let go, Merlin’s eyes were wet and as Balinor brushed his own cheek, there was grief drying there, too. But he just stepped back and watched them ride out of sight.
Then he turned his eyes toward the Feorre Mountains and his new life. And tried not to mourn.
Title: Cold Iron - part 5B
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Balinor
Warning: none
Summary: Balinor was a fool trusting that all would be right in the end. For Uther was a tyrant and the prince a naïve boy, and when Balinor saved Camelot, death was to be his reward.
Word Count:1000
Camelot_drabble Prompt: 509 in public
Author's Notes: unbetaed, AU for The Last Dragonlord, also I’ve always been suspicious of how Gaius knew about the crystals around Dagr and Ebor’s necks in the Gwaine episode. He seemed to know a lot about them.
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
-------------------
Arthur sighed, then began to help Merlin. “I don’t see how they are going to think this is Balinor. He doesn’t look like him at all. I suppose we could burn the body and bring back the ashes, but my father would be suspicious not to have seen the body.”
Merlin just smirked, then pulled out the crystal.
Smiling, Balinor took it from him and held it up. “If it worked with Gaius, with the right spell, it could certainly work here, too.” It could be easily done with the right incantation, but Balinor’s magical abilities were still barely there.
“No spells, no magic. I can’t condone it. Damn it, why does everything have to be so complicated?” Arthur sat back on his heels.
“Keeping your princely honour intact?” Merlin finished taking the last of the armour off, then went over to his horse and pulled out a tunic and trousers, finer than anything Balinor had worn in many years. It looked almost royal. When Arthur sputtered, Merlin gave him another grin, then handed the clothes over to Balinor. “These should fit you. We have to switch your clothes so we can show Uther something.”
And reaching in again, Merlin pulled out a meat pie, wrapped in waxed cloth, and gave it to Balinor.
While Balinor wolfed it down, Merlin murmured to Arthur. “They are all things you were going to throw away anyway. You rip your clothes so often that I can’t keep up and well, you should lay off the herbed capons.”
“I am not fat,” Arthur grumbled.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Merlin said, grinning at Arthur, then seeing that Balinor had finished, pointed to the woods. “Arthur, I think you are going to need to reconnoitre the area. You know, hunter things or maybe find some water?” He shoved an almost full waterskin at him, then nodded toward Balinor. “Didn’t see it, right?”
“Fine,” Arthur snapped, then stomped off into the woods.
Merlin immediately turned to Balinor. “Look, we don’t have much time. In order for the crystal to work, we need some of your blood smeared on it. Do you think you can-?” He nodded to the gemstone.
“My magic is faint at best,” Balinor said.
Shrugging, Merlin took the stone from him. “Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ve got more than enough.” With that, he pulled out a knife and gestured toward Balinor’s hand. “It only takes a drop or two.”
With that, Balinor nodded, then pressed the blade into his thumb. Merlin smeared the bead of blood onto the stone, and chanted, “Þece treowee andwlitan heora fram gesiht eallra.”
Balinor watched his son’s eyes turn gold, bright and perfect. Merlin seemed to find the whole thing effortless, as if it were nothing, and when the spell was done, Merlin said, “Gaius says that I don’t just have magic, that I am magic. It’s easy. Mum had fits when I was young, always moving things and catching hell for it.”
“Does Arthur know?” Balinor said, not wanting to worry but Merlin was so young and after all the terrible things Balinor had seen, he wanted to protect him from them all.
Merlin’s grin turned sour. “No. No, he… well, you see how he is. And with that terrible father of his, I’m not sure he can ever know. And I want him to but well, it’s complicated.”
“You could come with me. I could teach you so many things and I know living in a cave isn’t exactly a castle, but it has to be better than that,” Balinor said.
Shaking his head, Merlin said, “He’s my destiny. He’s my, well, everything. It’s hard to explain. Thank you for offering but I can’t leave him. He’d be dead inside a week and maybe, just maybe, he might be better than his father if given half a chance.”
Balinor could understand that. Once he’d believed in justice and a fair king, but it had turned out so terribly wrong. But Merlin had to learn, too, even if it destroyed him in the end.
With that, he pulled off his tunic and braies, then shoved on the prince’s castoffs. Helping Merlin to put Balinor’s clothes onto the dead body was the least he could do although it was pretty disgusting. But Merlin muttered something under his breath and the smell went away, the flesh solidifying a bit so that the man looked freshly killed.
Merlin hung the crystal around the man’s neck, and it was terrifying and amazing to watch the dead soldier’s face morph into his own.
Just in time, too. Arthur came back, took one look at the dead man, then glared at Merlin a moment. Under his breath, he grumbled, looking as if he’d swallowed something distasteful, “No magic there.” But he did help Merlin load the body onto Merlin’s horse.
“We must leave. The patrol will be annoyingly perturbed at my disappearance, and I would prefer they don’t discover you. The explanations would be uncomfortable at best.” With that, Arthur climbed onto his horse. “I’m sorry but you can’t come back to Camelot. If things were different, I might forgive your sorcery as a reward for your service to my people, but now is not the time. But I do wish you well. You saved my kingdom, and I will always be grateful for it.”
Merlin seemed more upset, but he didn’t say much, just gave Balinor the rest of the food and the sword. “Perhaps some day, we will meet again.” The ‘father’ remained unspoken, but it was as loud as a shout.
Pulling Merlin into a hug, whispering into his ear, Balinor said, “You make me proud, son. You make me so very proud.”
When he let go, Merlin’s eyes were wet and as Balinor brushed his own cheek, there was grief drying there, too. But he just stepped back and watched them ride out of sight.
Then he turned his eyes toward the Feorre Mountains and his new life. And tried not to mourn.