Wishful Thinking - Merlin [Under Construction]

The Start of Something New

     Arthur didn't know how it happened. One second he was on the dark staircase of the Inn, and the next, he was by a beautiful lake, surrounded by trees. It was early evening, maybe five o' clock, and there was a soft breeze in the air, the kind of breeze that arrives just after summer ends. The kind that shocks you, at first. Those breezes meant the start of something new. The beginning of winter, sweet and crisp. The start of something new. Merlin was by the Arthur's side, gazing at the seemingly endless lake. Merlin spoke after a few moments, with a melancholy tone. "Welcome to the Lake of Avalon."
It was a beautiful place. Almost magical. How did Merlin discover it? When did he discover it? And why did he look so sad? Arthur was still hurt and angry, but Merlin was his friend. And, as Merlin's friend, Arthur needed to know what had happened to Merlin. That might satisfy the anger, too. The king had to be careful, going about this. He needed to ask something eventually, though, and it didn't look as if Merlin was going to speak any time soon.
"Merlin," Arthur began, "why are we here?"
Merlin looked up Arthur, with that same sad look. It was desperate and...lost. Arthur could barely stand looking at Merlin's tortured face. The king had seen it before on Merlin, but rarely. He usually brushed it off, but something was different, this time. Arthur and Merlin stared into each other's eyes, and they both looked terrible, physically, and emotionally. It was a while before Merlin spoke. When he did, it was barely above a whisper.
"You need answers. I understand. We're here so you can get them."

Merlin took a deep breath, and began. "I, as you know was born in Ealdor, to Hunith, my mother. You don't know, however, who my father was." Here, Merlin paused, as if he was hesitant to tell Arthur the truth. "Arthur, my father is- was- Balinor, the last Dragonlord."
Arthur didn't know what he expected. A rapist? A king of a foreign land? God himself? Not this. Well, maybe Arthur did expect it, but he didn't like it. It meant that Arthur's father had indirectly killed Merlin's father. Arthur couldn't express his emotions with words. So he just looked at Merlin, sorrowful, and apologetic. The king remembered Balinor's death. He remembered how- oh, god. Arthur couldn't believe that he had done something so terrible. Even if it was an accident... he needed to apologize. But how?

"I told you that no man was worth your tears," said Arthur, his voice light with shock.

Merlin looked confused. "What?"

"I told you to get over it, after Balinor died. He was your father. I'm sorry, Merlin." Oh god.

"Arthur," Merlin said, looking a little surprised, but more so, sympathetic, "It's fine. You didn't know."

"I still shouldn't have said it. He was your father,"argued Arthur. Not believing his own ignorance, he looked into Merlin's blue eyes. Seeing the sadness and frustration, the king decided not to argue anymore, and let Merlin go on, after clearing his throat.
"Yes, anyway, he fled from Ealdor, before he realized my mother was pregnant. And, when I was born..." Merlin's voice trailed off, but Arthur didn't interrupt him. Merlin stayed silent for a minute, or so, and then continued. "When I was born," he continued, "I was born with glowing eyes. When my mother saw me, she knew I was different. It was hard for her, the mother of a bastard and a freak. The other children were terrible. They were influenced, at a young age, to hate me. And it didn't help, that every so often my eyes would flash gold. I couldn't control it, back then. It's still hard to control it now. They would pelt me with rocks, and chase me up trees, because they knew I wouldn't fight back. It was too easy to slip and use magic. Will was the only friend I had, which kind of worked out, because I was the only friend he had. We were inseparable.
     Eventually, though, he found out about my magic. One day, we were in the forest, where the other children didn't go, that much. He decided that climbing a tree was a great idea. He chose the tallest tree, and climbed to the very top. He was sitting on a branch that wasn't very strong, around nine meters above the ground. The branch couldn't support his weight. It snapped, and... he fell. I used my magic to save him, and he was suspended in midair. I let him down, and ran. I was afraid..." Arthur looked at Merlin's face, tear-streaked and shameful.
He shouldn't be shameful, Arthur thought, he's one of the bravest men I know. Arthur didn't know how to express this to Merlin. He didn't know how to comfort Merlin. What good was he, if he couldn't do those things? Friends were supposed to have your back. To help you get up, when you were down. Arthur was a king. There was simply nothing else. He had never been taught how to help someone, how to comfort someone; not like this. It had all been battle, war, and leadership. Yet, somehow, one boy had gave him more than just monarchy. Merlin had given Arthur a sense of home, that the king had never experienced, before. His father only cared about Camelot, and he'd had no one else. Arthur knew that, somehow, someway, he had to comfort Merlin.
"C'mon," Arthur said, gently putting his arm around Merlin's shoulders(it's only an inch inch height difference), "lets go sit somewhere, and you can tell me there." Arthur had Merlin's back. Quite literally.