Merlyn's Fate

The Last Dragonlord P2

Merlyn hadn't really wanted to talk to her father the next morning, preferring to sit outside in the cool morning air, listening to bird song as she watched water trickling down rocks, into the river below.

"I feel great!" Arthur exclaimed, breaking through her tranquil depression. "What the hell did you give me?"

"It was all down to Balinor." she replied, not even turning around to greet him, trying to compose herself. She didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but she had little choice.

"So we found him, then. Thank heavens for that." The Prince leapt over a boulder, sitting beside his servant just as the Dragonlord came into view, his bearded face directed at the river, staring at his reflection.

Merlyn sighed. "It doesn't mean he's willing to help." she murmured, knowing Arthur wouldn't take this well.

"What?"

"You won't persuade him." she said glumly, her eyes fixed on the shell of the man she'd once known. He'd never been omnibenevolent, no human could be, but, even in anger, she'd always seen a twinkle in his eye, a spark of humour, of love. It seemed to have been smothered now, dulled obscenely. Perhaps that was why he couldn't recognise her: she was a reminder of what had once been, a past that he'd been forced to leave behind.

"Does he know what's at stake?" The Prince asked, his bewildered expression doing nothing to sooth the pang in his servant's heart. She nodded her head silently, grim as she surveyed her options. "What kind of man is he?"

Merlyn almost didn't respond. "I don't know." she whispered, because it was true. She didn't know what kind of man he was. The servant could almost feel the suffering in Camelot; the fact that her father, a man that she'd always looked up to, refused to help... It hurt her. So very much. "I thought he'd be something more."

∆

Arthur had tried to speak to Balinor, but his servant doubted that it would do any good.

"What did he say?" she questioned the Prince when he returned from talking to the Dragonlord by the shallows, noting the dejected look in his eye. This was about more than courage, than success for Arthur. He needed Balinor, not for selfish heroics, but for his people.

"He'll change his mind." The Prince sounded more optimistic than he looked; the servant didn't believe him for a second.

She raised an eyebrow. "He said that?"

"Just give him a moment." Arthur watched the Dragonlord near the pair, anxiously awaiting the fate of his kingdom.

Balinor looked between the Prince and his servant, his gaze stopping on Merlyn for a little too long. "Farewell, then." he shrugged, heading past them, straight towards his cave.

Arthur had never been one to stand idly by. "So that's your decision, then?"

The Dragonlord took a few steps back, sizing up the Prince as he neared him. "I will not help Uther."

"Then the people of Camelot are damned!" Arthur argued, refusing to accept defeat. But Merlyn knew he was making the wrong arguements: she'd already tried this angle. Her father simply didn't care. These were the people that had stood by whilst his kin was burned. These were the people who only accepted him when they needed help.

"So be it." Balinor hissed, glaring at the son of the man who had betrayed him.

"Have you no conscience?" Arthur wouldn't give up, but by the expression on Balinor's face, it was the wrong thing to say.

The Dragonlord sneered. "You should ask that question of your father."

"And you are no better than him!" the servant fixed her ocean irises on his hazel, vaguely wondering where her shade had come from. Gaius, she supposed, her great-uncle, had blue eyes, so it must run on her mother's side.