"We call that person who has lost his father, an orphan; and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, by what name do we call him? Here every language is silent and holds its peace in impotence."

 ~Joseph Roux

Merlin's POV

I shake my head. I must be dreaming. Or hallucinating. Suddenly I remember collapsing in the courtyard and being carried inside and another thought occurs to me. "Am I dead?" I ask.

My father laughs softly. "No, Merlin. You're very much alive." he whispers.

I follow his cue, lowering my voice as I glance at Freya, asleep in the plush red chair to my left. "Then how am I seeing you?"

"I was here for Kilgarrah, to reward him for his service to Albion, but...well, I couldn't leave without speaking to you, Merlin."

I stare at my father in silence, unsure of what to say. Finally he speaks up. "I'm proud of you, Merlin. Already you understand what it is to be a Dragonlord better than I ever did."

I snort. "I don't understand anything; I'm just making it up as I go along."

"Exactly." Balinor nods. "You keep going, keep fighting, even when things are too hard, even when you have no idea what to do. You have good instincts for what is right and wrong, Merlin, and you follow them unerringly. And most importantly, you don't abuse your power. You have a gentle, forgiving heart. That's something I never managed."

I smile. Praise for my gifts is not something I am accustomed to getting from anyone but Gaius. Suddenly I understand all the times Arthur tried so hard to please Uther even when he knew his father was wrong. Though I have spent barely a day with my father in all of my life, it feels good to know that he is proud of me.

"Thank you, Father." I whisper, my voice thick.

Balinor smiles sadly. "Now I must go. I'm sorry that I cannot stay with you." He starts to walk away but stops, turning to face me again. "Tell your mother that I never stopped loving her. And I'm sorry."

Hot tears roll down my cheeks. "Goodbye, Father." I whisper. Balinor smiles again and then disintegrates like smoke in the wind.

*****

"Is all of this really necessary?" I complain, tugging at the golden clasp of the red cape that hangs tightly around my neck. "These capes are the most inconvenient things I've ever seen."

"It's part of the ceremony, Merlin." Arthur explains, smoothing the red fabric across my shoulders where my fidgeting had rumpled it. "Now stop complaining. C'mon; you stand there." he says, pointing to the front of the small group of knights standing beside us. I realize with a twinge of grief how few of Arthur's closest friends remain. No Lancelot, no Elyan. Percival and Gwaine are still missing from the Battle of Camalan. Of the Knights of the Round Table, only Arthur and Leon remain.

I take my place at the front of the group. Arthur pushes the heavy wooden doors of the Throne Room open wide. Stringed instruments softly play a triumphant melody as we process through the crowd. We pass Freya, standing near the throne in a beautiful red gown, and Gaius, who winks at me. I smile.

When we reach the front of the room the other knights split off, leaving only Arthur, Gwen, and me in the center. I kneel on the steps.

Arthur lifts Excalibur from the red pillow in Gwen's arms. He opens his mouth to begin his speech, but before he can speak a loud creaking echoes through the room; the sound of the huge wooden doors being pushed open once more. Then a familiar voice rises above the commotion. "Having a Knighting without us?"

I whirl around "Gwaine?!" I cry. The knight's familiar mop of brown hair appears out of the crowd, followed by Percival. I run to them.

"Merlin!" Gwaine throws his arms around me in a bone-crushing embrace. I pull back to look at him.

"We thought you were dead!" I exclaim as I move to hug Percival.

"We nearly were." The huge knight admits.

Arthur claps them both heartily on the back. "Well I, for one, am glad you're not!" he said. "Let's finish the ceremony, then we can catch up."