Squeeze

A life on the run was the last thing he had wanted for the woman he loved. Never being able to stop looking over their shoulder. Never staying in one place for too long for fear of discovery. It wasn't fair to ask it of her. Not after she'd risked so much just opening her home and her heart to him in the first place. But once Hunith had learned she was with child she had insisted on leaving with him, barely stopping long enough to gather a precious few things from their tiny home.

It just was the logical thing to do she'd said. Ealdor was too close to the border of Camelot. Patrols had been known to "accidentally" stray over that border whenever so much of a whisper of magic had reached the ears of the mad Uther. Balinor shook his head. A year had passed and the betrayal of his king and friend still had his heart in pieces. Hunith had been good for him, but it would be a miracle if he could ever forgive, let alone forget.

So they left. And now, many leagues and many, many days into their flight they'd found refuge in a small village at the base of the white mountain. It wasn't comfortable, and it was far from friendly, but that was fine with them. Friendly people talked, and if they talked to Balinor's family, then they would also talk about them and that was the one thing he couldn't allow.

Despite its many faults, one thing the village did possess was a competent midwife and a number of herb woman, a fact Balinor thanked whatever gods might be listening for. Hunith's pains had begun at midnight the night before, as such pains always seem to do, and now it was approaching evening. There hadn't been one complaint or shaking of confidence from any of these women during that time.

Banned from attending her himself, Balinor paced the ground outside their home. He fretted, listened, resisted the urge to poke his head in the room and ask if they needed more water or to offer to build up the fire again for the thousandth time, then started the process all over again. Why is it he could put down a dragon with nary a thought and yet the reality of his wife's suffering made his blood run hot and cold at the same time?

At last, just when he thought he'd lose his mind if he waited one minute longer, one of the young women attending the birth cracked the door open and waved him inside with a stern order to watch his step and be quiet.

Following her instructions to the letter, he entered and made his way to where Hunith was lying half propped up on pillows cooing softly at the small bundle in her arms. She smiled when she saw him approach. Despite a pale face and eyes ringed with dark circles brought on by a sleepless night and many hours of labor, Balinor thought she'd never looked more beautiful in her life.

She murmured a greeting and turned the bundle so he could look upon the pink faced child lying snuggled inside it. The baby - a boy Hunith informed him smugly, having referred to the the child as a son from day one - was small. Smaller than Balinor expected, not that he'd really known what to expect. He'd been too young to remember his brother's birth and Arthur had been secreted away before he'd gotten so much as a glimpse of the infant prince.

Still, Balinor thought as he cradled the boy - his son, he thought with pride and trepidation - the baby had the right number of fingers and toes and all his facial features were in their proper places. He seemed to have inherited his ears from his father's side, a fact the dragonlord hoped his son would forgive him for one day. Aside from that and the thick layer of raven black hair on his head, their boy was all his mother. Balinor didn't mind that, he'd fallen in love with her after all.

The resemblance was furthered when the baby's eyes slowly cracked open for the first time, little puffy lids lifting to reveal slits of summer sky blue identical to the woman's who'd birthed him. The sight made Balinor's own eyes swim with emotion, so much so that he almost missed the brief flash that turned those blue orbs molten gold.

"What?" Hunith yelped at his gasp. "What is it? What's wrong with him?" She reached for their son and cradled him to her breast, eyes searching him desperately.

"Nothing's wrong my love," Balinor hurried to reassure her. "It's just.. his eyes. I thought I saw them change color."

Hunith frowned. "They shouldn't change this soon. When he's a few weeks-" her voice died in an equally startled gasp as the gold appeared again. "Wha how?"

Sending up a silent thank you that the midwives had already left to give the new family some privacy, Balinor knelt by the bed taking his beloved's hand in his.

"Hunith, you know there is only one explanation. Our son has magic."

"But...but how can he... this soon? He's only just left the womb!" Her hands began to shake disturbing the child who let out a whimper of discontent.

Balinor stroked the infant's cheek with his little finger and he quieted. "I've known others who's magic has been a part of them their entire lives."

The words calmed her a little though still she insisted, "So you've told me, but they still couldn't use it their whole life. What does it mean that he can use it without any training? He can't even talk for heaven's sake!"

He nodded slowly slipping his finger into his son's tiny hand. "I might know someone who could give us an answer."

"The druids?" She asked, looking relieved by the idea.

"No, well maybe," he hesitated. "I was actually thinking of someone else. Someone who-"

"No." Hunith interrupted flatly, all traces of exhaustion and worry vanished from her tone. "I don't care what's happening, for as long as Uther Pendragon is on the throne no one in this family will step one foot inside of Camelot."

"Hunith, think of our boy-"

"I am thinking of him. He's been given a gift, one that may take years before he learns of the reason for it. But until the day comes that reason appears, we will need to keep him safe. The only way our..." she hesitated studying the child for a moment, "our Merlin, will ever see what the future has in store for him is if his family stays by his side. His whole family."

"We'll need answers if we are to protect him," he tried one last time.

She lifted one hand to caress his face. "And we will find them. But given the choice between solving a mystery that may never be solvable and risking my son growing up without his father, I'll take my chances on the mystery."

All thoughts of further arguments vanished when Balinor felt a sudden tightening down by his hand. Glancing down he saw that despite the fact he'd fallen sound asleep while his parents debated, baby Merlin's tiny fingers were clutched securely around the one Balinor had rested in his palm. Clearly their son agreed with his mother. Of course knowing that, the dragonlord had no choice but to give in, hoping against hope this wasn't a sign that he would be outnumbered in all arguments for the rest of his life.

He wondered how soon was too soon to ask Hunith about having a second child.

Let me know if you liked it and feel free to take inspiration from the list of prompts in my profile. They can be used so many different ways.