Merlin 1. Chapter 1

**Balinor's child.**

* * *

><p><strong>Summary: What if Kilgharrah was placed into a position where he had to look after a newborn Merlin. How would he deal with it?<strong>

* * *

><p>Flying high above the world Kilgharrah felt at peace. He looked down to the land surrounding his mountain home. Endless green forests split by rivers, the rivers flowing endlessly past towns and villages in the distance. The tapestry of the world laid out beneath him.<p>

Up here at the edge of the world, no war disturbed him, no conflicts troubled him. If he didn't have to eat, he felt as if he could spend an eternity above the clouds. Left in peace for the rest of his time, with nothing but the warm winds pushing him up. It was a fate to be wished for.

Then he felt his spirit shudder, a voice call out to him from across the winds, _"O Drakkon" _it roared, powerful and mighty. Kilgharrah's spirit shook as his Dragonlord had called him.

The Dragon reached into himself to feel the part of his spirit that he shared with Balinor and was surprised to find that the Dragonlord was close to where he was now.

Without wasting any time his wings burst forth and the sky seemed to split as he ripped through it. Balinor's shout shattering the sky like thunder.

As he neared the ground Kilgharrah saw his Dragonlord chased by Knights of Camelot across the fen, who seemed to be more than happy to hound the Dragonlord as if he was some wild boar.

He flew low, using the trees to cover his descent, his wings silently gliding along, as he got closer and closer to his prey. Then, in a burst of speed he swooped over them, extending his claws to toss the knights away like they were dolls.

He circled around, looking to make sure that the knights dead or incapacitated from his attack; ensuring that they would no longer bother his Dragonlord before landing in front of the exhausted man, noticing that he was holding something tightly to his chest.

"Kilgharrah." Balinor said thankfully, bowing his head in respect. "you came."

"Of course Balinor" Kilgharrah rumbled in the language of the humans, "As always it is a pleasure to see you, and harm Uther's vermin whilst doing so. However," he continued "I suspect that you were more than capable of protecting yourself." He paused, "What are you holding, child?"

Balinor realised how tight his grip was, and slowly loosened it to reveal the sight of a human baby wrapped in cloth.

"Kiindrog Dovah." Kilgharrah murmured uneasily.

"Kilgharrah" Balinor said uneasily, "this is my son, Merlin."

The Dragon sighed having hoped that he wouldn't be roped into another human drama, "I take it this child's story is long, and unfortunate?"

Balinor nodded, "His mother is dead."

"Uther?" the Dragon asked.

"Yes." Balinor confirmed.

"Did I not warn you?" Kilgharrah asked, feeling anguished at how no one seemed to have the wisdom to listen to him "Did I not say of the coming rain Dragonlord? Do you now see the mad King Uther as I do? His eyes are of blood and his flesh is of fire! He is soulless, hollow. A traitor and betrayer-"

"Enough" Balinor barked, stopping the dragon in his triad. "He was once my friend."

The Dragon looked intensely at the man, "He is now your foe."

Balinor looked lost, ragged, tired and drained of all will and purpose. Kilgharrah softened, feeling his pain from their bond, subtle and distant. Far enough away that he hadn't noticed it at first, but now that he looked, truly looked, it seemed as if the man had been drowned in pain, little by little that it had gone unnoticed, rationalised as one of the trappings of war. Yet-

"Sit, young Dragonlord." Kilgharrah said, speaking to him once more as a brother as opposed to a petulant child. "Rest, tell me your story."

"Do you remember what our last conversation was?" Balinor asked. Kilgharrah recalled Balinor telling him that he would meet with Uther to discuss peace, and how he had retorted that eating mud seemed to be a much more pleasant course of action. Balinor told Kilgharrah of how he was treated with kindness within the walls of Camelot, only to be asked to bring Kilgharrah so Uther could apologise for his genocide in person.

Balinor told the Dragon how he refused Uther's request, knowing about the Dragon's resentment of the man, only to be imprisoned by Uther in return. Kilgharrah was told of Balinor's escape with the help of an old man named Gaius, his time in Ealdor, of his wife Hunith. Of how Uther found him after his son had been born, and killed the woman he had wed and his escape to ensure the safety of his child.

Kilgharrah looked wearily at the bundle held in the man's arms, feeling the magic leaking out of the child, the blaze of his spirit, like that of his father, like his own. The soul of a Dragon, dormant and waiting to burst into life.

"What shall you do now?" Kilgharrah asked.

"I shall fight." Balinor answered resolutely, as if this was the final point of his life, as if all that he had previously suffered for was lost. Kilgharrah could understand in a way. The man's friends and brothers had betrayed him or had been killed. The woman who he had loved had been murdered, and the child he had with her was doomed to a life of being treated as a feral beast. To be tortured, burned and drowned.

Kilgharrah was the last of his kind and knew what the Dragonlord was feeling very well.

"What of the child?" Kilgharrah asked looking down towards the small bundle once more.

"He can't come with me. He can't take part in the life I shall lead." Balinor grimaced.

"So where will he go?" the Dragon asked, considering the potential power that the child would wield.

"To someone who can protect him, and teach him how to control his magic." Came the reply.

Knowing that the man was holding something back the Dragon asked "Who?"

Balinor looked into the Dragons eyes and replied calmly, "You."

The Dragon froze.

"No."

"Why?" Balinor asked.

"Because_ I_ am not the boy's father." Kilgharrah explained.

"You're still his family." Balinor countered.

"I can see how I am related to the boy. It is _oh_ so clear to me Dragonlord, his scales look just like mine!"

"See told you."

Kilgharrah sighed, "I was being, what you humans call, sarcastic."

"You've been learning how to speak like a human, I'm impressed."

"It was difficult work, it's irritating not knowing when one of your kind means what they say." A pause "I will not take the child."

"You must."Balinor insisted.

"Why?"

"Because he's your kin."

"Your _hatchling_ is not my kin."

"He is my son."

"He is not mine." Kilgharrah protested.

"You are my kin." Balinor continued, "He is my son."

There was silence before Balinor slowly continued, "He is your kin."

They looked at one another. Two creatures who had lost everything. A Dragon and a man, a Dragon and a Dragonlord.

"I could command this task to you." Balinor said breaking the wall of silence that had arisen between them.

"You could." Kilgharrah admitted, knowing however that the Dragonlord would not abuse his power in such a way.

The silence returned for a few moments as the two stared at each other, hoping to think of some way to get the other to yield. Yet knowing that there was only one way that this conversation would end.

Balinor sighed. "Overgrown lizard."

"I am not a lizard, young Dragonlord." Kilgharrah replied. "I do not do that" pause "thing they do with the tongue. You would do well to remember that before I decide that you would make an excellent lunch."

"Ok." Balinor agreed, "So you'll take care of Merlin then?"

"No."

* * *

><p><strong>This be an attempt at a young Merlin fic, pray I emerge victorious, yarr. <strong>

****Although you must be warned, updates for this story will be sporadic if there are any updates at all.****

**I tried to bring up the personalities of a Balinor and Kilgharrah before their respective exile and imprisonment. Years left to oneself changes a person, and I tried to show how they were a type of family before all of that, an awkward family of two different species, yet still... family.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Balinor's child**

* * *

><p>Kilgharrah was a mighty dragon with a proud lineage before him. He had seen the world tilt on its axis, the majesty of his people mark the lands as their own. He was <em>not<em> a nanny.

Yet looking at the squidgy sleeping human, reality seemed to say something completely different.

Kilgharrah the nanny.

By the grace of the all maker! He was the warrior, the hunter! Brave as his namesake suggested. "Humans!" he cursed. They were a bane on his existence, a curse on all Dragonkind. They were the murderers, the defilers of the world. His breed had survived the cataclysm and wrath of the Greedy man, his kind had lived when the other Great lizards vanished under a sunless sky!

He stopped, having noticed that he was pacing whilst caught up in his thoughts. He asked himself if there had ever been a Dragon in history who _paced_ when frustrated.

He looked at the human hatchling with all the hate he could muster. No wait, not hatchling, it was a warmblood so cub was the accurate... didn't its sire give it a name? "Merlin" Yes. Kilgharrah thought it fitting that the bane of his existence was named after a bird, arrogant rats who thought that they were fit to share the sky.

By the allmaker, he was still pacing. Kilgharrah willed himself to stop, realising that the sound of his feet continually crushing the earth may awaken the spawn of all that is evil.

Or maybe the cubling thought of his footsteps as therapeutic and would wake up as a result of their ceasing. Humans were, from the experience Kilgharrah had with them mentally unstable creatures. Lick that, touch that, mate with that... insane.

But Kilgharrah soon had managed to calm himself down. If his words to the Dragonlord regarding Uther were heeded, maybe the man would see reason and take back the little squish pile.

Rationalising that it would only take time before the Dragonlord learnt the enormity of his mistake Kilgharrah sat down, ready and waiting to return to a life of quite meditation amongst the winds. No Kings or magic's or wormlike human hatchlings to ruin his peace and quiet.

He looked at the child, still wrapped in the cloth that his Dragonlord had placed him in. With only his face visible. Kilgharrah had his attention fixed on the human as it opened its eyes. Deep blue. It blinked, looked at the creature in front of it.

"Waaaaaaaaaahhh!" the child screamed.

Wait what?

"Waaaaaahhh!" the child continued to shriek. Kilgharrah stumbled away in shock, wondering if this 'Hunith' Balinor spoke of was a Harpy of sorts.

"Waaahhh" it continued. Seeming to shake the walls of the cave. What was wrong with it?

Kilgharrah thought back to his own hatchlinghood. What was the first thing his mother did. Umm, Umm. Yes!

The Dragon walked up to the child lying on the floor, noticing how it was as small as his talons. Opened his mouth, and licked the hatchling.

Silence.

Pride filled the dragon. One of the first things mothers did was clean their hatchlings scales, and as unnatural as his role in taking care of the cub was, he couldn't deny the smug feeling that was working its way through his bones.

He looked at the cub cover in slime. Wait, where are its scales?

The child opened its mouth. Oh yeah, it's not a Dragon.

Curse you Balinor.

"Waaaaaaa!"

Grr. What in the world did this thing want?

"Food!" Yes Food must be it. He quickly turned, and leapt out of his cave and into the sky.

He flew as quickly as possible, knowing that there may be a possibility that predators would come to devour the little terror. Of course there was an equal chance that the predators would think the screeching as from an undead spirit and turn the other way.

But food. What did humans eat? KIlgarrah knew that they hunted animals, fished and ate plants. Omnivores. Maybe some grass would be all that's needed? Or he could take a tree to the cub. Did humans prefer Pine or Oak? No matter. Kilgharrah merely snapped the top of the nearest tree with his jaws, flying back to his cave on the mountain side.

He walked in, only to be met by silence. Worry filled him, did a predator devour the little thing? It _would_ lead to a little peace and quiet, but the father would not be happy with the loss of his offspring.

He sighed in relief at the sight of the bundle of cloth that greeted his eyes. Noticing that they had been left untouched.

He walked forward. Part of the tree still gripped in his maw. He looked the hatchling in the eye, and saw the cub open its mouth.

Oh no.

"Waaaaahhh"

He quickly bought the branch up to the cub, trying to push the leaves into its mouth when he realised that the cub couldn't move whilst wrapped in its human furs. It stopped for a moment, looked at the Dragons offering, and then continued its unholy shriek.

Kilgharrah quickly threw the branch to the side and left his cave again. This time flying straight to the river, as he opened his maw and launched himself at a small group of fish, snatching them up; letting the water drain through his teeth as he flew back to the cave.

The hatchling looked terrible at this point. Covered in dragon spit, tears, and an assortment of leaves and branches from Kilgharrah's previous offering.

However this time there was no shriek. The cub looked exhausted.

The Dragon opened his mouth and let the fish drop onto the stone floor, some still flopping about. He sent a firm glare to the cub, as it to telepathically will him to eat. But the cub only stared back.

"Fish" Kilgharrah said, pushing one of them closer to the cub. Noticing how hatchling looked at the river monster for a moment before turning its glare back to Kilgharrah.

"Fish, eat." He continued, still giving the cub his 'eat this now' glare. The hatchling glared back with a look that made the dragon feel as if it was saying '_you_ eat this now'. Cheeky humans.

"You, eat this. Fish." He said nudging the fish closer to the hatchling once more. "No, look. Fish. Eat fish. Nutritious fish."

The cub opened its mouth and gurgled a series of words that sounded like "Gragale." to the Dragon.

How this cub knew of the windy gale was lost on the dragon, but he was adamant, "Fish, eat."

Suddenly inspiration struck as he noticed how the humans mouth was smaller than the fish. He recalled a time in his own nest when his mother would chew up his food before allowing him eat it, due to his underdeveloped teeth.

He bought the seven or so fish into a pile, and chewed on them before dumping the mass of scales, flesh, blood and bone besides the humans head.

"There, now no complaints."

The cub looked towards the Dragon's offering for a moment, as Kilgharrah took a moment to enjoy the irony of the situation, recalling that it would usually be humans that would give the offerings to Dragons.

They waited like that for a few more moments, before the Dragon realised the cub was not going to eat.

He though back to his sightings of humans and wondered if there was something they did, something that was missing.

They built cities (fun to knock down), they acted insane (fun to watch), they had two legs (and fell to the ground- a hilarious sight), occasionally they would wander the forest (he used to follow them when he was young and steal their socks). They would try to hunt occasionally, without realising how unsubtle they were, and light fires wherever they stopped.

That was it! Fire, Humans used fire to cook their food.

The Dragon opened his mouth and blew a light dusting of flames on the fish remains. Stopping when the outer layer had gotten brown. He wasn't sure if humans ate whilst their food was still on fire, but if they didn't the cub could easily eat from the parts that weren't still blazing.

"Enjoy your burnt fish, human." Kilgharrah said with a tone of finality, having finally deciphered the eating habits of the squishy meat bags.

The cub looked back at the Dragon with a familiar look.

Oh no.

It opened its mouth.

"By the all maker."

"WAAAAAA!"

"Quiet!" Kilgharrah said to no effect, "Silence your shrieking you spawn of the incandescent metal, I can _not_ think like this!"he growled to no effect.

This hell spawn seemed insatiable, a child of the cataclysm itself, created for the soul reason of punishing him.

"Damn you Balinor." Kilgharrah muttered, only to have his voice hushed by the wailing of the hatchling. So having exhausted his patience, Kilgharrah let loose the most powerful roar he could muster. The cub was silenced immediately, as the echo slowly dissipated; suddenly Kilgharrah felt extremely exhausted.

He looked down at the cub and realised just how little he knew regarding his task.

So he figured that it would be best to go to a human village, take a female, probably one of these 'virgins' the humans seemed keen on offering him so frequently and _ask_ her on what the best course of action would be.

Of course it would be unwise to leave the hatchling here Kilgharrah mused. Realising that its harpy like defence mechanism was now effectively silenced, and that his cave essentially smelt of smoking fish. Leaving it alone would result in a very angry Dragonlord.

So Kilgharrah logically deduced that he had to take the child with him. Not on his back of course. He wasn't a horse after all, and the child still had absolutely no way in which to grip onto him. That meant that Kilgharrah had to hold the child.

The Dragon used his front paw with which to grab the small and fragile human. Trying his best to not let his talons do any harm to the cub.

He lifted the little bundle up close to him. Seeing the face in greater detail. The lack of hair, the pale skin, the blue eyes. The leaves and saliva amidst the faint odour of burning fish.

Kilgharrah felt the panic that had enveloped him when he had been given the child wash away. Replaced by a sense of resolution, a sort of peace that came now that he knew he had a mission to complete. To make sure this child did not go hungry.

He looked out to the sky. It felt as if he was flying again, skimming the edge of the world with nothing but warm winds pushing him up and a million and one thoughts to fill his mind.

The thought of feeding this young hatchling seemed greater than all of them put together...

Or not.

He flew out of the cave, the child in his arm held carefully close to his chest so that he wouldn't be squeezed by the dragons grip, or left to fall to the earth beneath him.

The Dragon scanned the forest, looking for any sign of human activity, a clearing of some kind, quickly finding one and landing in it, cub still clutched safely in his paw.

He looked down to see a deer, quickly snapping it in his jaws before it could escape. Knowing that this day with the Dragonlord's child may not end anytime soon, and that it would be best for him to eat now rather than later as angry villagers occasionally found it fun to throw pointy sticks at him.

Although if Balinor had finally grown a brain and came to take his hatchling back, he wouldn't have to face to prospects of pointy sticks ruining his scales. Of course, such a situation seemed somewhat unlikely for the mentally damaged man.

With the deer still in his jaws he heard a growl coming from the tree line. A wolf stalked in front of Kilgharrah, snarling furiously at the Dragon.

It was an amusing sight, and one he would have been more than happy to savour if it wasn't for the cub he held close to his chest.

He dropped the deer carcass, ready to show the beast a lesson in the might of Dragons and in how fire was dangerous. Stopping when he noticed how the Wolf averted its eyes to focus on the deer he had just dropped. Suddenly he noticed a few more things. Rustling in the bushes behind the beast. It could have been other wolves, and if it was he would be provided with the slight inconvenience of being surrounded. Then the face of the other wolves came into focus, cubs, just like his... well somewhat like his. He looked at the wolf with new eyes, smelling its scent and noticing that it was a she, a mother most likely; judging from the lack of muscle on her one that needed food so her cubs would not starve.

Because she was a mammal. Like the hatchling- cub- human- thing.

Because mammals made milk.

Because young mammals drank... ohhh.

He looked at the wolf who had continued to stand her ground, the shreds of a plan coming together in his mind, and pushed the deer carcass towards her. She snapped her head to the Dragon, eyes wearily looking for any sign of a trap, before slowly taking a bite out of the deer. Then two, and then when she realised that she had not been attacked, began gorging on it. Whilst Kilgharrah sat patiently and her curious cubs edged ever closer, looking at the Dragon with awe (not that he could blame them, he was awe inspiring).

When she finished she looked back at the Dragon. Her eyes cautious, but not as hostile as before.

Kilgharrah took Merlin and placed the young human before her.

She looked at the human, thinking that this was another meal, and opened her jaws. Only to be stopped by a growl from Kilgharrah.

The Dragon pointed to the human, than to her, than behind her. She looked to see her three cubs waiting patiently for their mother whilst continuing to look on at the Dragon with wide eyes.

She seemed to realise what he wanted her to do and lay on her side in front of the young human.

It took a moment before the cub to recognise the smell of milk and began to drink, whilst Kilgharrah sat, satisfied that this episode had ended.

He hoped that the Dragonlord would miss his son and come back for him sometime soon so that there wouldn't be many more days like this.

* * *

><p><strong>Kril (brave) Grah (battle) ah (hunter)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Balinor's child**

* * *

><p>Today was a peaceful day. Kilgharrah had managed to entice the mother wolf and her cubs to a fairly large cave at the base of the mountain with the promise of a steady supply of food in exchange for her milk. Of course there was the developing problem regarding this arrangement. Specifically with his human cub and if it was wise to place him inside a nest of predators. It would be easy if the little meat ball had managed to remain in place like a good hatchling, or grow wings like a Dragon but noooo.<p>

That little hatchling, it was strange, one moment the cub would be lying beside him at the back of the cave as he drifted off to ponder on the nature of creation. Then Kilgharrah would look up, only to see that the little thing had _somehow_ managed to move a good distance away from him towards the mouth of the cave where an untold number of flaming rocks could fall out of the sky and squash him.

At first Kilgharrah thought it was strange, then it happened again, and then a third time. Suddenly his meditation on how to master sarcasm and irony were replaced by thoughts on how exactly the human did _that_. It was a useless creature; it ate, covered itself in a fountain of milk and spit, laid excrement and flopped around on its belly like a fish out of water.

The worst part was that the human continued to teleport itself whilst Kilgharrah sat wondering how it was able to teleport itself.

He had vented his frustrations to the mother wolf whom he had not gotten around to naming, only to receive a look of amusement as she lay down beside him. Watching her cubs play beside the fire, where his hatchling lay to keep himself warm.

He had been finding himself doing much of that... speaking to the mother wolf. The action in itself was something that he had a hard time reconciling with his assumptions about the beast. After all she was a beast, just a beast. Clever enough to coordinate attacks and to do the basic functions of life all mammals were capable of.

But when he spoke she _listened_, he was sure of it. She never left or fell asleep in the middle of one of his speeches, never shifted her view away from him unless her cubs needed her. It was refreshing. Especially in comparison to his Dragonlord who would normally come up with a snarky retort or a unfunny joke in response to his sound advice.

Kilgharrah knew that his Dragonlord was better than the vast majority of humanity who, when greeted by the sheer majesty of his form ran around like the insane warmbloods that they were. Some ran away with their sheep, others ran towards him, demanding that he release the virgin that he _obviously _had locked up in a tower somewhere, only to run when he gave them the traditional Draconic reply, "ROOAARR."

He decided to place wolves as the second most intelligent life form on this planet, with humans coming fifth after trolls, and the French.

Her cubs weren't bad company either, at least to watch. They played the hunting games he recalled playing in his own nest as a hatchling such as bite the snake, which ends with the realisation that the 'snake' is a tail, and that biting it hurts. At which point you play sick or insane, where one person is sick and wants to infect you with a disease that makes eating dirt seem like a good idea and the others are insane like humans are and run away as fast as they can whilst screaming. After which you would resume playing bite the snake.

The mother wolf's cubs played all of this as well as a few more games of their own devising.

The first was, as far as Kilgharrah could tell a game called yummy yummy human. The hatchling would wait and the cubs would try to find some way to get to the human without their mother noticing.

They were playing it right now. Kilgharrah watched as the two cubs began to play I'll eat your leg if you eat my leg in front to their mother as the third would slowly moved to the child, freezing when it saw its mother look over to it and continuing when she intervened to stop her other two cubs game before either of them ate something important.

When the third cub was close enough to his hatchlings prone form it moved as cautiously as it could, opening its mouth to display its underdeveloped teeth. Only to freeze in position when it heard a light growl come from its side.

Kilgharrah could see its eye move to glimpse the unhappy face of its mother before closing its mouth and attempting to look ashamed of its actions.

The mother growled and the Dragon imagined that she was saying. "Do not eat." to her young one.

The cub growled back and Kilgharrah could imagine its small and pitiful voice whine, "but it is yummy yummy."

"No eat." Snapped the mental rendition of the wolf mother.

"But soooo tasty, like- like flaming fish." He could imagine the cub reply as its mother continued to state at it sternly.

"no"

"But-"

"No"

"can I lick him?" the cub whined.

"Lick? Why?"

"Because tasty." The cub answered.

The mother looked back at the Dragon, and Kilgharrah wondered if the she-wolf was trying to tell him something or was scared of letting the human hatchling lose an ear and wanted him to intervene.

She looked to the Dragon, and then to Merlin, before turning back to make a licking motion. Kilgharrah froze, astonished at the level of his own intelligence. Sometimes he was so utterly amazing he shocked even himself.

He looked to the cub who now knew that it needed the Dragons approval before tasting the human hatchling. Kilgharrah looked back at the cub as it kneeled and let out a whine that sounded like "pleeease, lust a little."

The Dragon nodded, as the little wolf perked up and licked the humans face repeatedly, before getting bored. It looked towards its siblings and let out a "ha" of superiority (or what sounded to Kilgharrah as a 'ha').

It then turned around to meet the gaze of the giant Dragon head behind of him, freezing himself when he wondered what he had done to bring this fate unto himself.

Kilgharrah open his mouth, stuck out his tongue and liked the cubs face, covering it in his own drool; musing how wolves tasted just like the hatchling did when he had _attempted_ the clean the little ones scales.

As Kilgharrah returned to his place near the back of the cave he heard the wolves resumed activity, which mostly involved laughing at their sibling who was covered in Dragon drool.

The day progressed like that, the wolves playing, and looking around their new home; occasionally going over to the human hatchling now that they knew it wasn't off limits to lick him, or to try and coax the strange creature to play with them.

Sometimes they would get a little rough with their nudging for the little human to get up and play with them and in response the hatchling would release its screech of doom until the attackers ran away.

So being the cunning creatures they were the cubs attempted to find another way to interact with their fellow nestling.

They looked at the hatchling from a safe distance, each nudging the others to go forward without unleashing the wrath of the squidgy meat ball. Eventually taking one step forward as a group, and being relieved when the nice tasting creature only stared back with curious blue eyes.

The wolf cubs continued their approach, taking in every detail of this strange and exotic creature as if truly noticing that it was different from them for the first time.

Then one cub, the cub that Kilgharrah remembered licking took a tentative step forward, still looking deeply into the hatchlings eyes.

"naa na" the hatchling squeaked, freezing all the beings in the cave. The cubs were entranced, having never heard a language as strange as this.

"naa." It drawled as the one wolf cub inched ever closer.

The hatchling moved its small and pudgy hand to reach out to the beast. It was uncoordinated to do even this simplest of task, as if this was the first time the hatchling had moved its limbs in such a way.

The wolf lowered its snout, moved it closer to the hand and took a sniff.

The hatchling reached out, and in a moment that took less than a fraction of a second stuck its figure up the poor creature's nose.

All three cubs jumped back in shock, the one that had been poked in the nostril placed its head on the ground and covered its face with its paws.

It whined, then Merlin echoed it. The cub opened its eyes to see that the hatchling had rolled over to look at it.

Kilgharrah could feel gears turn within the little Dragonlord's mind as it lay on its belly and covered its eyes in a similar manner to the cub.

The cub took its paws off of its eyes and watched as the hatchling did the same. All in the cave were now watching the two as the cub covered its eyes and had Merlin mimic him. The cub uncovered its eyes and as Merlin did the same he giggled.

Kilgharrah looked on transfixed as the two continued to repeat their actions with the giggles of the young human growing louder each time; soon joined with yips of joy from the pup. It wasn't long before the cubs siblings decided to be a part of the game, mimicking the first and responding joyously when the little human mirrored them and laughed in turn.

The laughter was a strange sound to Kilgharrah. Balinor's laughter sounded like a clap of thunder, the laughter of soldiers and hunters was like the thunder of a galloping horse. The hatchling sounded like a cross between that of a bird shrieking and the cackling sound of wood burning. An odd combination, but an apt metaphor to describe the sounds of innocent joy that echoed through the cave.

Kilgharrah felt somewhat proud, his blood warming up at the sight. He felt the mother wolf walk into the small space between his chest and forepaw, laying down and making herself comfortable. The Dragons blood warmed and he wondered how, in such a small period of time he had forged such an unnatural group to harmoniously dwell in his cave.

If his ancestors could see him now they'd be laughing so hard they'd fall out of the sky.

The last Dragon, the wolf mother and her three cubs and his- no Balinor's hatchling. Of course he had to remind himself that the little one would not be called hatchling forever, it had a name given to him by his sire, and 'Merlin' was what the little one should be called, despite the shame of sharing a name with a bird.

The Dragon looked at the wolves and realised that they also needed names. He couldn't keep calling the mother 'mother', after all he already had one. But names... he thought back to their first meeting; when he had met an animal thick enough to attempt to take on a Dragon. Would things have been different if he had managed to teach her the lesson that he had planned?

Lesson, that was a good name.

Then there was the case of the cubs, two of them hadn't done much as of yet to allow him to provide a worthy name, after all the name should tell _something_ of one's story.

Hmmm, what did the name 'Balinor' mean? The Dragon wondered, then turning his attention to his hatchling and of what the little one had done in its short life to earn such a title as 'Merlin'. Maybe a bird did its business on the young one? An odd thing to be named for, but he had heard humans name their offspring after genitals, so such a possibility didn't seem too far off.

But the cubs needed a name, or at least that one cub which had proved to be the most daring and foolish of the three. Hopefully the finger into the snout would serve as a good learning experience to it. Snout, another good name. Snout and his mother Lesson.

Was Snout a he? Kilgharrah bent his head to the ground to check. When his suspicions on the cub's gender were confirmed he lifted his head up to see Lesson throwing him an amused look.

"What?" He asked the she- wolf, feeling her amusement only rise. "I should have roasted you that first time we met Lesson." She appeared curious. "That's your new name, Lesson."

He jaw opened in shock and she growled as if to say, "Don't you dare, I'm a wolf, the second greatest species on the planet!" But Kilgharrah just replied with the best look of utter superiority he could muster. After all if he could handle the shrieking offspring of an insane Dragonlord and a Hapry, what's the worst the wolf could do? Especially if she wanted to keep her spot near him.

Then he heard a sound go "poop" and he wondered if his ancestors were laughing _now_?

* * *

><p><strong>When my little brother was little he couldn't go to sleep one night so I tried to rock him to bed in his cot without success. Eventually I covered my hands and groaned, and noticed he did the same. Things went similar to the story; except I'm not a wolf my dad however is a Dragon. My little brother still laughs when I tell him the story.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Balinor's child**

* * *

><p>One thing that Kilgharrah had learnt about human hatchlings was that they had an irritating habit to cry... a lot. Waa waa waa, day and night, on and on. There seemed to be no end to the incessant tears. Kilgharrah thought thatsomething was wrong with the hatchling, possibly constipation. But there was nothing he could do to help with that.<p>

But then again it could be something other than constipation... perhaps the little one was hungry? Yes, definitely hungry. With a single, powerful leap Kilgharrah flew to the river, caught some fish and brought them over to the child as he did on the day that they met, hoping that the hatchling had finally developed some teeth.

He dumped the fish on the floor of the cave and charred it with a light dusting of flames until there was a noticeable change in its scent, ready for the hatchling to eat. However the cub didn't make any motion towards the meal, instead choosing to let off the aftermath of its tears, whilst Lesson's cubs rushed over to gorge on the offering.

Kilgharrah huffed, but made no motion to stop the cubs, instead grateful that his fishing expedition had been of some use. Although making a mental note that such behaviour may be a problem for his hatchling in the future, as Kilgharrah recalled having at least two of his siblings die from malnourishment as they were born small and could not compete with their stronger brothers and sisters for the food that was offered to them.

Kilgharrah thought himself lucky in that respect, he had hatched sometime after the others and only thanks to the faith of his sire, his dam having given up on his hatching long before. He was called Laatgein, by his parents which translated to 'Last one', an ironic name for a hatchling that would grow up to be the last of the Dragons.

His siblings always fought for the food that was brought in, survival of the fittest. His luck was that many had already taken their maiden flight by the time of his birth, and the freeing of his father from keeping his egg warm had also allowed the amount of food available to be more than enough for him. However the survival instincts of those stronger than him hadn't stopped and he was forced to fight his siblings for his fair share, even if he ended up on the losing side more often than not. Seeing his actions his parents had saw fit to change his name to Krilgein, meaning 'Brave one'. Another apt name, for he was brave, and courageous, and-

Regardless, for everything that had happened to him when he was young, the incessant weeping from his cub was something that he had no experience with. What was worse was that the hatchling had everything handed to him, milk, warmth, flaming fish and yet it still wept.

But then when things looked hopeless Lesson padded over to the young one and tears seemed to stop. It was an intriguing sight for the Dragon as the mother wolf knelt down besides the hatchling and wrapped him within an embrace, especially for Kilgharrah who had never seen such a sight as Dragons were not obliged to be in personal contact with one another unless they were mates.

Kilgharrah realised that _he_ had also had similar contact with the she- wolf, but then again she was a beast, an intelligent beast, a very intelligent beast. Yet on the other hand-

Lesson began to howl a tune that filled the emptiness of the cave, a prolonged high note that soon lowered in pitch. Her cubs attempted to join in with their own disjointed howls, but fell short to match their mother who continued unhindered.

Kilgharrah watched on, transfixed at the sight. He had heard the sounds of wolves on late flights, when the moon was bright and the air felt as cold as a snow tipped mountain, the howls echoing endlessly through the valleys beneath him. He never thought of witness the song being sung, nor ever thought that it would be so _different_ to anything he had witnessed before.

The hatchling had long since quietened, as entranced by the melody as he was. It sounded strange to his draconic ears which were used to songs that echoed thunder, or roars that were filled with endless hope and power. This song was sad and lonely... hollow, not a perfect melody as the she wolf took breaks within her song to breathe in air, but _strong_ in its own way.

She stopped, and held the child close, making low and comforting sounds to placate the silenced hatchling as her own cubs rushed up to her in order to share in her warmth.

Kilgharrah sat at a distance, having broken out of the spell and watched the scene. A part of his brain wondering why the hatchling had behaved in the way it did. It clearly wasn't hunger that was the problem. However lack of warmth could have been what was wrong, as it seemed placated within the grip of the wolves, wrapped in their fur.

Perhaps that was the reason why the humans wore the coverings they had, the fake fur, maybe they were always cold? After all they also wore fake scales when they intended to fight, once more proving the superiority of Dragons and he knew despite their nature as warmbloods they did not have the intense flames that his kind had.

Suddenly it was obvious to the Dragon, humans were jealous of other warmbloods for their fur, just as they were jealous of Dragons for their scales. That was why the Hatchling was placated, because, like all of his kind he desired to have fur like his fellow warmbloods.

Were all humans this sad? Were they all this lonely? It explained much to the Dragon to explain their erratic behaviour. Yet something about his theory seemed out of place, something seemed unable to fit in with the warm sight that lay before him. What was worse was the tugging he felt within him, the pull to join in despite his every other instinct telling him not to.

He sighed, knowing that he had remained grounded for a long time, the last time that he had time to fly amongst the clouds with nothing but his thoughts to fill the horizons of his world seemed so long ago. But he couldn't leave Balinor's child alone, a predator could come along and eat him.

He scoffed and looked at the sight of the wolves. The child was surrounded by predators, protected by them. A small flight wouldn't hurt, would it? It would help settle his thoughts and allow him to see things he wouldn't if he were to remain grounded.

With a silent leap, and only the sound of his beating wings breaking the peaceful silence that had fallen in the cave he leapt into the night sky, and ascended beyond the dark clouds until little more than the waking stars lay above him.

His many thoughts were his only company, thoughts of the young boy and this unnatural pact he had made with the wolves, and worry... worry at the notion that his new place in the world was to remain on the ground like a cripple whose wings had been clipped. That it would be long before he felt the touch of the wind against the underside of his wings once more.

The clouds moved across the sky, the trees were blown by gales that were too low to disturb him in his lofty position, and whilst the worry in the Dragons mind had settled down with his time in the sky, answers continued to fly beyond the reach of his maw. Tantalisingly close, yet eternally distant.

He landed back in the cave after what seemed to be a lifetime above the world, the shadows of the night having long since engulfed the forest in deep blacks and blues. He looked at the sight of his hatchling and the wolves, in the same position that he left them in, walked over and fell asleep, wrapping himself around them. Hearing the wind howl its sweet, cold lullaby at the mouth of the cave.

* * *

><p>The next day begun innocently enough, the wolf cubs had followed their mother outside, presumably for her to teach them how to hunt (as any good parent should) helping confirm Kilgharrah's assumption that the beasts had some level of intelligence in them.<p>

Of course his hatchling couldn't go, despite how eager Kilgharrah was to have the cub learn some level of self sufficiency. Merlin couldn't walk, the little thing didn't even have fully developed _teeth_, all it did was flop around like a fish...

Kilgharrah thought for a moment, wondering if humans were aquatic? Would throwing him in a river provide better results than trying to raise the hatchling on land? After all the little one didn't have fur and the human 'skin' did seem to be of better use under water.

Maybe he should throw it in a shallow puddle, just to see.

He made a move towards the hatchling only to stop when a vision of an angry Balinor shouting at him in that broken human tongue assaulted his mind. Perhaps later.

Kilgharrah sighed, laying down on his forelegs and taking in the little ones appearance for what seemed the thousandth time.

"You are more trouble that you're worth, you know that?" he grumbled, eliciting a low squeal from the hatchling.

"You don't have to be so happy about it either." He continued as the little one smiled up at him. "I am a Dragon, hear that? Drrragooon, with wings and scales and pointy bits made to poke eyes out. My talents are wasted here."

"Gwale." The hatchling squeaked, reaching its pudgy little arms out to Kilgharrah.

"No not Gwale" Kilgharrah admonished the young one, Gwale means- you know what, it's better that you don't know what gwale means. Never call a person Gwale hatchling, you hear me?" he paused "Unless that person's from Camelot in which case you can call them whatever you want."

"Gredewudplada?" came the spurts of sound from Merlin's mouth.

"Now you're just talking gibberish." The Dragon groaned, realising that he was attempting conversation with a human hatchling, maybe he was growing crazy? He sighed, "Maybe I should put you in the river, wouldn't hurt to find out if you can swim would it?" he mused.

"Naaaaa" came the high pitch whine from the hatchling.

"Yaaaa" Kilgharrah replied in the human tongue, elongating it to match this strange language the hatchling seemed to have made.

"Naaaa" came the echoing response.

"Yaaa" the Dragon said once more, stopping when he realised that he was getting drawn into an infantile match of who can talk the longest. He knew he would win of course; he just didn't want to seem arrogant in front of the little one.

"Na nana na na naaa" the hatchling finished off joyfully.

"I'm not playing your little game." Kilgharrah stated adamantly turning his head away and looking towards the mouth of the cave, wondering how long it would take for the mother wolf to return and placate the hatchling.

Strange, it wasn't so long ago that he would have tried his best to keep the hatchling away from the predator, knowing that the only safe place for the little one would be with him. Yet now he _wanted_ Lessons company in dealing with this problem, seeing as she has had some form of talent with this little one. Kilgharrah may not have understood _what_ it was that she did to the bundle of meat and bones and harpy blood, but it had seemed to work.

Then again, the hatchling seemed to enjoy his company as well. Not saying that he wouldn't enjoy the company of a magnificent creature such as he, but the point still stood. This little one was a human, a warmblood and the wolfess had some level of knowledge with how to treat warmblood hatchlings whilst he was stumbling in the dark like a newborn whose eyes had failed them.

He turned his attention back to the little one, surprised to see that the hatchling had been letting out a series of random splutterings all the while.

"You were saying?" Kilgharrah asked, forgetting momentarily that the little one was incapable of any understandable speech.

"Baaaa."

"No."Kilgharrah replied, "You are not a sheep. You are Human, you go moo, not baa."

"Gagabadabudu." It spat, as the Dragon shook his head in wonder. Was Balinor like this when he was born?

The Dragon groaned "Your father's probably forgotten about you." Stopping when he realised just how cruel his words were. He looked towards the hatchling who did not seem to understand the gravity of the Dragon's words to Kilgharrah's relief.

Kilgharrah realised that Balinor, despite being the child's sire had little impact on its life, especially considering that the child was a human who unlike Dragons have a grave problem with remembering events in the past beyond half a day. Eat that, jump on that, mate with that.

"I don't mean that Balinor is cruel" he continued, more for his own benefit than the hatchlings, "he's just incredibly stupid, as are most humans. Unable to see things that are right in front of them. He's probably fighting one of Uther's men, if not killing that vile troll's son in his bed."

The Dragon thought back to his own father, standing steadfast beside his egg when all others had given up, stopping his siblings from hurting him when he was at his most vulnerable, ignoring the cawing of his dam to take care of the hatchlings they already had. Did Balinor, wrapped in grief and anger compare?

Kilgharrah looked up to the sky wistfully, "I don't think your sire is going to come back here anytime soon." He looked down to the cub, tracing the little ones image in his mind once more, "You may be stuck with me for a little while longer."

"Dii." The child replied with wide eyes, stretching its arms up towards the Dragon and making a grabbing motion. It didn't escape Kilgharrah that the little one has said the word 'Dii', which translated to 'mine' in the Dragon tongue.

The Dragon smiled, the little one was a future Dragonlord, perhaps the Dragon was _his_... in a manner of speaking.

"I'll admit hatchling, despite my magnificent intellect, _you_ are a mystery to me at times." Merlin continued to look on at Kilgharrah, "I'll try my best to keep you safe." The Dragon said sternly, "but don't cry if I get things wrong on occasion." He paused, "actually, _do_ cry if I get things wrong, I won't know if I'm doing well otherwise."

"Dii." Merlin said once more, reaching out to the Dragon.

Kilgharrah looked towards the outstretched hand, the most dangerous part of any human, in which lay all their strength, a limb without which they would be rendered as useless as a Dragon without wings.

He lifted his forepaw and allowed the little one to grip onto his scales.

"For now, I guess I'm as much yours as you are mine." He sighed whilst wondering if Balinor was thinking of the little one wherever in the world the Dragonlord had found himself.

It was possible.

He looked to the hatchling, _Merlin_. It still sounded like a ridiculous name to him so the Dragon decided, "If you're staying with me, little one. You're going to need a name better than the one your sire gave you. But until then, _Child of Balinor_, you'll be called hatchling, because hatchling is what you are. Yaaa?"

"Gaba" the cub replied, seeming to lose interest in Kilgharrah for a moment. Shifting his weight to the side and flipping over, than doing it again, and again until it had moved a sizeable distance from his original position.

A spark flared in Kilgharrah's eyes, "So that's how you've been moving around the cave." He paused, "This is just going to cause more problems isn't it?"

* * *

><p><strong>Almost no humour here, and it really felt like a bit of a filler chapter... but then again this whole story's a kind of filler. Well I originally planned to have something completely different, and it veered off course a little. But it's still important, a flash of things without the usual chaos of the day, when the two of them can talk and bond together. In some ways the quiet moments say more than the noisy ones. Tell me if you liked it, or want me to change things.<strong>


End file.
