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Arthur crosses his arms and levels Merlin with a look. “Do you mind running that by me again? Without lying to me this time?”
Merlin licks his lips and goes for cheeky. “Actually, yes.”
“Merlin.”
“What? I’m not lying!”
“So this isn’t the druid boy I’ve been looking all over the city for this past week?”
Merlin fiddles with something on the vanity top. “How could he be? I told you he just got to town not two days ago!” Arthur’s disbelieving stare cuts through him even though he tries to ignore it. “Like I said, he’s my ward and he’s run from home.” Merlin says again. “Stupidly too, since he hasn’t even got his pack. I only have to take him back to the village, but with this missing druid boy business there’s going to be a problem getting him back home out of the city. That, and he’s got himself injured on the way here, falling down a hill, but he was closer to Camelot by then and finished up the trip.”
“Right,” Arthur drawls. “And why have I never heard of him before? What’s his name anyway?”
Mordred, the voice pops up into his head again, sounding as if it's being spoken from a cave. Merlin hasn’t heard it much, but it’s lucky he’s heard it enough not to flinch at the sudden reappearance.
“Mordred, sire. And probably because you’ve never asked? When’ve we had the time to do a sit down chat over anything anyhow with all this work you throw at me?”
“Having someone to care for is a big deal, Merlin,” Arthur says like he’s dense. Surely Merlin would know since a main portion of his job is literally looking after people, Arthur himself the most. “I would think you would have brought him up before now if he’s meant that much to you.”
“As if you would listen to me anyhow,” Merlin snarks. “Aren’t you always telling me to shut up? I mean, it’s no wonder you’ve not heard about him until now!”
Arthur rolls his eyes and sighs. “Look, can I just clarify that you don’t have to lie to me? I don’t like the persecution of the druids anymore than you or Morgana. I know they are a peaceful people, but what more could I do right now? He’s my father.”
“Excellent to know,” because it truly is, “though I am not lying and this has nothing to do with the druids here,” Merlin says, facing Arthur head on, but looking more at his ear rather than his face.
“Oh really?” Arthur has a hard time believing Merlin at the best of times and this is truly a matter of life and death “So why are you hiding him in an unused visitor’s suite?” He asks. “Shouldn’t he be with you if he’s your ward and injured? You do live in the Physician’s Chambers, yes?”
Merlin heaves a falsely put-upon sigh. “I already told you that: the guards are looking for a boy that apparently seemed a similar age to Mordred here and began chasing us. I tried to reason with them, honest,” he says, gesturing his hands about as he speaks, “but they weren’t getting it, so we ducked in here and they ran past down the other way. “On top of all that, he’s been sick and it’s just been a hectic couple of days trying to get things all righted as they should be. I’ve been working to get him better and he’s only turned this morning.”
“Even apart from the guards, why wouldn’t you take your ward to Gaius? Or brought him here?”
“You think I should? They wouldn’t listen to me and I’m Gaius’ Apprentice. Figured instead of another dash or bothering him, I could use my knowledge to get him well and see him home. Besides, not just anyone can see the Court Physician, even if Gaius makes rounds to the lower town. And with the added checkpoints increasing his time on his rounds, it makes sense that I wouldn’t overburden him since he’s so busy!” That, and Merlin would get a serious talking to about the whole thing and he had enough with three lectures on anatomy and first aid.
“For all that is Holy and Just,” Arthur blurts out, “would you just shut up a moment?”
Merlin bites his lip to hold in the ‘I told you so’ about the shutting up part and slows his breath from getting worked up. He rambles a bit when he’s nervous and it’s a miracle he’s not let anything incriminating slip as Arthur had turned to approach the boy, Mordred. It’s been just him and the boy for a week and he’s gotten a little attached, which isn’t good since he has to get the boy back to the druids. His plan was going well until Arthur followed him back to the room and started asking questions.
Arthur heaves another sigh. “He’s got a druid symbol on his chest, Merlin.”
That’s something Merlin can’t deny, considering it’s fairly obvious. One would think that the druids would stop marking their young with stuff that would get them killed in these trying times. “I never said that he’s never lived with them, sire,” he improvises, “I said that I took care of him. Wherever he has lived before my mother and I was no problem as we couldn’t find them and it was getting to be winter out. We’re all he has now.” Which would actually be true if the druids camp moves on without him now, presuming he’s dead. “He’s almost better now though, so I’m sure I could get him moving back to Ealdor as he is.”
“Ealdor?” Arthur asks, looking back to Merlin.
“Yes.”
“Why there?”
“That’s our home?” Merlin’s confused now. “Have you not been listening, sire?”
“Look, you don’t have to keep up the act, Merlin, though it’s oddly noble of you for a half-wit,” Arthur waves off the conversation. “We’ll take him back to the druids.”
“Arthur, you can’t possibly know if it’s the same band that’s passed our home last year.”
Merlin can feel the irritation build up more in the prince, like he was rolling with everything up until this point but now it’s too far, which confuses Merlin greatly. “You must be continuing this farce for the sake of my deniability, but once again, Merlin, we are alone. You don’t have to create some fictitious place for you to run off to.”
Merlin blinks, his ears wanting to be deceived. “Ealdor’s real, Arthur,” he says, affronted at the notion of his childhood home being called imaginary, even if it’s small enough that it’s usually forgotten. It’s only been a couple months since he’s gotten to Camelot, but he does know that it still exists. “It’s up north, you prat.”
“Well I have never heard of it and I’ve been learning the geography of my kingdom since I was small–”
“So shorter than the length of time you’ve been training to kill, sire?” Merlin says with a large grin.
Arthur ignores the comment since Merlin’s explained before that he had the image of an infant in chain mail toting around a wooden sword from that one comment in the market.
“–and I’ve never heard of an ‘Ealdor’.”
“Probably because it’s a small village in Essetir, sire.”
That makes Arthur pause. “Essetir? Cenred’s kingdom?”
Merlin nods slowly. “Yes, he’s still the king there, right? The most recent one anyway, given our history with that family.” Merlin shakes his head. “Anyway, I understand why no one would take in a helpless child with a druid mark in Camelot, since it would lead you to the Headsman’s Block here, but it’s not technically illegal in Essetir. People can have magic there too, I suppose,” Merlin says carefully, “but I wouldn’t recommend it.” Especially if you like living free instead of being a slave. Merlin brushes the thoughts away. “It’s not even ‘harbouring’ a druid there, they just are nomads like any other walking-group. I thought he knew not to come find me in Camelot though and I really hope he told mother he was leaving: she would be so worried if he left on his own!” Merlin conjures the image of his mother from after his running away when he was younger to get the right inflection in his voice.
“You mean you’re not from Camelot?” Arthur asks.
All of Merlin’s acting is dumped straight into the bogs. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he says with false apology, “I thought you realised. I was under the impression that people in Essetir spoke a bit differently than that of an inhabitant of Camelot’s capital city.”
Arthur shrugs. “I thought it was just a country thing.”
“It is, sire. A different country thing,” he drawls and Arthur just looks at him as he leans on the pillar of the bed, the druid boy watching them both from the covers. “I thought it wasn’t that different, honestly, since my mother is Gaius’ family. It’s been a while since she had moved to the village, but I still notice that she speaks a bit differently from the other villagers.” Merlin tilts his head as he thinks back. “I must have picked up more than I thought with her than not.”
“You’re actually related to Gaius?” Arthur looks a little disbelieving and Merlin can’t outrightly blame him since it’s really only their finer features that match.
“Maybe? I think he’s her uncle or great uncle or something, but it could just be that his family had taken her in. He could even be an old mentor I s’pose, since she doesn’t talk about her family much. Any time she gets started talking about it she gets into talking about chosen family over blood relations, so maybe they aren’t.”
“If you’re not even from Camelot, then why are you here?”
“Why should anyone need reason to come to the big city?” Immediately Merlin can see that Arthur is not buying his attempt at redirecting the conversation. “My mother wanted me to learn from Gaius, so I came here.” Which isn’t a lie as much as a deliberate withholding of what she wanted him to learn from the man.
“Does my father know that you aren’t from Camelot?” Arthur ends up asking.
Merlin levels Arthur with a look of his own that says the prince might actually be dull and Arthur’s look turns from inquisitive to a mild glare. “Arthur, I thought that you knew up until now; how would I know what your father knows about me? It’s not like I sat in a job interview to be your manservant and you were there when he assigned me to you. Regardless of me having a job already!” He huffs, still a little miffed over it despite the time and the fact that it was the king.
Arthur scoffs and looks to the window. “It can’t be that hard being a dogsbody.”
“Says you, who’s never done so!” Merlin says, his voice teething on indignant and a little loud. “And I’m more than that since I’m starting to learn how to treat simple ailments. You probably think that I have an easy job with the work you pile on me every day when I know for a fact that other servants don’t have to muck out the stables, Prince or not!”
Merlin can see the side of a smile that splits the prince’s face. “I thought it would take longer for you to figure that out.”
“It wasn’t that hard to find out given that the castle employs stablehands, Arthur! How daft do you think I am?” Merlin asks, though he knows it’s just because of Gwen that he found that out at all given how much he was complaining.
“You seem to be incredibly stupid to me considering you’re trying to pass the druid boy off as your own,” Arthur says, bringing the topic back around. Honestly, Merlin’s a bit miffed he couldn’t get the prince going on enough to forget about the boy. “Besides, I thought that you would quit being my manservant now that it’s been a while.”
“There are days I wonder why I don’t, considering how little it’s worth,” Merlin remark, “but then something comes up and I think, ‘hmm, maybe it’s gonna be alright after all, even though he’s such a royal prat’.”
“How little it’s worth?” Arthur sounds affronted, but considering that his father thought it was a perfect reward then he must be in the same vein.
“Well, yeah, I can’t find fault in those who have quit before me since I certainly wouldn’t sign on for ten coins a week.”
Arthur’s head turns back sharply towards his manservant. “Ten coins a week?!”
“Ridiculous, I know,” Merlin sighs as Arthur stands straight again.
“How in the blazes are you getting ten coins a week?”
Merlin sucks his teeth. “That sounds incredibly like an insult. I shouldn’t’ve said a thing; you’ll probably find a way to get that cut further.”
“No, we are definitely going to have a talk about this–” A cough comes from Mordred and it stirs the prince’s attention back to the situation at hand. “We’ll talk about this after we get the mess with the druid boy handled.”
“I’ve already told you, he’s my ward.”
“Yes, yes,” Arthur waves his hand in the air to dispel whatever Merlin’s cooked up next to cover this up. “I can’t leave town because I’m leading the search for the boy, so I can’t help you there. You can’t ask for help because you’re an abhorrent liar, so I’ll be the one to ask Morgana on your behalf for help to get you two back to the druids–” he holds up a hand again when Merlin opens his mouth, “I mean your home. ‘Ealdor’, correct?”
“Yes, sire.”
“Good. I’ll go talk to Morgana now and tell her enough to get her to go along with it,” he says, crossing the room towards the door. “Just stay here. I don’t want to have to traipse all over the castle to find you,” Arthur pins Merlin with a look. “We’ll get this done as soon as possible, so prepare to leave tonight at the earliest.” He leaves without another word to go and find Morgana.
Arthur finds Morgana with her maidservant in the eastern garden and approaches them, watching out to where other people are walking around. “Morgana,” he calls out. “May I talk with you?”
“If you must,” she says with one of her courtly smiles.
He eyes the servant at her side. “Alone,” he presses.
He can tell Morgana is caught off guard then since it’s been forever since he’s approached her to talk to her on her own. “Whatever you want to say to me, you can also say with her around.”
Arthur bristles. “That may be all well and good for things that pertain to yourself, but this is another matter. The less who hear is the better.”
Her maidservant starts getting up and Morgana stops her with a hand, narrowing her gaze at Arthur. “Gwen knows how and when to be discreet, Arthur.”
“Morgana.” Arthur doesn’t know how else to get her to take the matter seriously and he already thinks it’s going to bite him on his ass later. “Please.” It takes a long moment where it looks like she’s going to laugh, but she does eventually gesture for her maidservant to leave, which she does hastily. “Thank you.”
Morgana’s eyebrows raise up. “A please and a thank you both in such a short time? Nearly in the same breath!” She gasps theatrically. “Now I know this is something serious!”
Arthur rolls his eyes and seats them down at a nearby bench for flower viewing, still holding her hand on his arm. “Morgana, I need you to trust me,” he says quietly.
“Hurry now, before you start scaring me.”
Arthur scans the area again to make sure that there is no one around in hearing distance or paying much attention to them. Finding no one, he still lowers his voice further as a precaution, keeping his watch outward to be sure no one walks up as they talk. “You know the druid boy?”
Any humour she had held in her eyes drains in an instant. “Please tell me you didn’t,” she says tightly.
Thinking he knows her thought process, he confirms his involvement. “I had to, Morgana.”
“Arthur,” she whispers harshly, yanking her hand back from where he held it. “He’s just a boy! He can’t possibly be a threat to your father!”
“What?” He looks back at her. “Were you not the one who said only last night that the druids would see my father’s kingdom destroyed?”
“Like that is true,” she scoffs, “but I couldn’t disagree with him so openly. Especially not in front of anyone!”
“You weren’t being called upon to speak either,” he rubs a hand across his face, tired even though it was only at the tenth hour. “Look, it’s neither here nor there at the moment,” he says, waving his hand. “Anyway, I know where he is and I need your help to get him out of the city. We only have one shot at this, and if things go wrong there is no coming back from it,” he lays out shortly and meets her gaze. “Can I rely on you for help?”
“Of course,” she says instantly. “I can’t stand by and do nothing. If I knew where he was then I would be working with the same goal.”
“I’m glad,” Arthur says and they share a smile. “Alright, Merlin has him in the castle–”
“Merlin?” The incredulity in her voice is clear and Arthue just shakes his head as he can’t seem to grasp the idea for himself yet.
“He’s saying that the boy is his own, a ward like you.” Arthur shakes his head. “I know I have only known him for a short span, but he really talks too much to have a secret this big. He’s apparently been nursing the boy all week from infection,” noting her alarm he rushes to reassure her, “but he is doing better now! He’s fine enough for travel, Merlin says.”
“What can I do?”
“I need you to go on a trip with him out of the city. With others he would draw less suspicions. You can take your maidservant, but don’t let on that it’s the druid boy; the less who know the truth is the better. Go along with whatever he says for a story,” he warns her with a wry smile as he gets up from the bench, “it’ll be easier for your head, much less your patience. I would go myself, but my father is having me continue on the search, as you know.”
“Where should I tell Uther we are going? And why would we be taking Merlin?”
“I figure that that can be something that you find out yourself. Spin a nice yarn that doesn’t choke, yeah?”
“It’s nice to confirm that you’re not really the brains of any operation,” Morgana quips with another smile, which makes him laugh as he finally departs.
The next morning finds Gwen, Merlin, Mordred, Morgana, and Sir Leon on a trip.
The knight was an addition that they weren’t expecting, but it was insisted upon by the king. Since Leon served the king before the prince, they were stuck with him as a companion and guard, making it impossible to talk about the druid boy, though Morgana was obvious about her curiosity about him and how Merlin came to be the one to care for him.
Merlin was already wary about having the girls along since his plan was to just pop up to the druids for a spell and waste time like he was actually going to Ealdor for a visit. He figures it could have been a learning experience since Mordred had said that there were some magic users in his group. Merlin talks back and forth to Mordred in his mind, which is a weird experience for Merlin but he catches on quickly, and Mordred tries every so often to reach out to the druids in the area. His reach is fairly limited though and eventually it takes Merlin reaching out mentally to the group to catch them up to speed with their plans. They dither back and forth, but in the end a small party of four would be sent out after they left Merlin’s hometown rather than trailing behind them and possibly being caught onto by Leon.
Gaius had looked upset with him, but the two of them didn’t get the time to speak about it before they went to bed and the group headed out at dawn. Arthur had seen them off from the courtyard where his father didn’t and remarkably held off comments about how apparently Merlin was able to get up on time in the mornings. His lack of snark was probably due from him being out all night searching for the druid boy he knew he wouldn’t find. Uther had him searching in every spare moment, but especially at night where he swears is the best time to catch those who were sneaking about. Too bad he was only catching drunks for the most part.
Morgana had only gotten Uther to agree to this trip after spun some tale about mothers, sons, family, and some other pointless thing that made the King tune out the tale and agree to her going to get her to stop. In his own mind, Uther made the reasoning that she would be out of reach of any magic-person hunting around in the city and he wouldn’t have to deal with the earful if the execution happened before she returned. The king did not spare thought to Merlin, which was fine enough for him.
Gwen seemed happy to be out of the tense atmosphere of the capital and was asking Merlin about his homelife since she had mainly resided within the city. Merlin tried his best spinning half-truths and omissions so he couldn’t technically be called a liar on most of the things mentioned, but he was also worrying about what they were going to do once they got there as there was no way anyone would be able to corroborate the story.
It was possibly the one time that he was glad that he and his mother were semi-ostracised from the rest, with him being a bastard and her wanting to keep his secret from them. The only true wildcard was Will, but he had a feeling that as long as he caught him before anyone asked too many pointed questions then they all would be fine under the ruse.
Mordred did not talk with the rest of the group, even though Morgana tried her best to get him to open up. She tried telling him stories and asking her questions, but what the boy did best was just stare at her from his place in front of Merlin until she got uncomfortable and diverted the topic. Other than that, he’s only made a few gestures when Merlin gets a little agitated with being the focus of all their questions, but he remains silent with a mostly blank face to the others. The only benefit that Merlin can see is that their stories would not be conflicting.
A couple days later, they reach Ealdor. Merlin doesn’t relax until he sees his mother when they get to the village. As they dismount, he speaks first, nothing too pointed, and Hunith quickly adapts and plays along, having had practice for covering Merlin’s magic since he was small. The narrative is upheld wonderfully for those around them and Morgana starts to doubt what Arthur had told her about Mordred being the druid boy that everyone in the citadel was searching for.
As they all can’t sleep in the house, they set up a camp behind it, closer to the trees. Leon’s armour and other Camelot decals are stowed away from sight, a concession Leon has made because they were not in Camelot anymore. Hunith takes to Mordred easily, as she usually does with children that aren’t fed information from their parents, and sets the boy up in the house where Merlin used to lie. As Mordred goes inside to get comfortable and the others make camp, Merlin turns to his mother. “So where’s Will?”
“Well, he was trying his hand at hunting this morning, but I doubt he’s found anything suitable. It’s likely he’s given up on it and decided to fish instead. Maybe you could find him down by the stream?”
“Is he…” Merlin looks to his travel companions to gauge their attention. “Is he mad?”
“About…?” His mother lingers over the words and Merlin nods. “I should hope not. If he is, then it’s not your fault. I was the one who…” She doesn’t complete the thought but they both remember the hurriedness in her manners when rushing him away to Camelot. She clears her throat and continues. “You should still meet him on your own though, just in case,” she says and nods her head towards the three at the camp. “I’ll see to your companions, go.” Hunith lightly pushes him towards the way to the water and he relents.
He wanders down the stream to look for his longtime friend and eventually catches up. Or rather, his friend catches up to him as he uses his magic for summoning some fish from the river for their dinner that evening.”I see that you’re up to your old magic tricks again,” his voice calls from the other side of a tree. “I thought I told you we didn’t want the likes of your kind around these parts.”
“Oi, what a welcome! I shouldn’t say I missed you too, Will,” Merlin answers as his friend reveals himself. He gets up from the ground and they share a hug, like the past couple months have never happened.
“How’ve you been, mate?” Will smiles, clapping him on the shoulder. “Heard you were skivvy-ing for some prince over there.”
“Eh, I wouldn’t say I’m his skivvy,” Merlin shrugs. “I might be his friend now.”
Will rolls his eyes at Merlin’s ideals. “Yeah, right. Last we knew you were his servant: ain’t no prince gonna be friends with a servant.”
“I’d say we’re more than just workers in a room. I’d call him my friend at least.”
“Hmm,” Will looks at Merlin from the side as he begins to start cleaning the fish, “so he knows about your little secret then?”
Merlin bites his lip, knowing that he’s being baited by something. “Well, no, he doesn’t. He can’t know about it, Will: he’s the prince of Camelot.”
“Then what’s different about being there, huh? It’s just the same as here, but you ain’t got us!” Will says determinedly. “You’re still living a lie as you are here, so why do you stay there? It’s a death warrant!”
“And, like I’m sure my mother’s told you, it’s slavery here,” Merlin sighs. “Between having to use it for evil and simply dying, there’s not too much of a contest.”
“It would never be a simple death for you, Merlin. Not for people who care about you, like your mother and I. But I hardly think that that would make you leave Hunith, death awaits us all every winter, so why did you leave?”
“Look…” Merlin’s at a loss of what to say. There are so many things that are warring for the decision to stay in Camelot, but he’s not sure Will would accept any of them. “It’s not like it’s what I wanted, will. My mom found out that you knew and she… I had never seen her so angry. Or worried, for that matter.”
“I wouldn’t have told anyone,” Will claims.
“”Yeah, well…” Merlin focus on the fish a moment, eyes flashing briefly to get rid of the nastier bits. “I had to leave though. No one here had known before, at least for sure. There were always small rumours that kept us apart from the others, but rumours go places. And after… Well, it might have happened anyway, eventually, so she sent me to go live with Gaius.”
“Who?”
“I think he’s kind of like my uncle?” Merlin says. “His family took in mom when she was a child, I think. What’s as far as I’ve got though since they both tend to avoid the topic of family. I was sent to learn from him.”
“What’s he do that you can’t learn here?”
“He’s the physician at the castle. I get to learn all sorts of interesting things from him when I do get time to study. Some of it’s awful though,” Merlin says as he wrinkles his nose, remembering a lecture on infection.
“I thought you were a servant.”
“I am,” Merlin says. “The king decided I would be after I saved his son from a witch the second night I was there or something.”
“You met another magic user?” Will looks shocked, which isn’t surprising. While Merlin wasn’t lying to Arthur about occasionally seeing druids on their walks through, the village doesn’t see things like outsiders and sorcerers often. There’s a few in bigger towns, but most of the magic users are in the capital under Cenred’s thumb.
“I wouldn’t say ‘met’. I kind of… dropped a chandelier on her?” Merlin winces and Will laughs loudly. That leads to more questions about the event that turn to everything since he’s left. The ability to openly tell Will about everything about everything that’s happened is freeing. Even when talking to his mother he has to be guarded in his letters in case they are read through. That, and she wouldn’t want to worry her too much. Eventually he gets to his most recent predicament as they finish with the fish and start clearing up to get back. “I couldn’t let the boy die, Will.”
“You were always the one to save the baby sparrows, weren’t you?” Will smiles, relieved that his friend hasn’t changed too much.
“They weren’t all sparrows!”
“Right! You fixed up a nice following of crows too! You know they still come around for you every once in a while? If only I could tell them off to start bothering you over in Camelot.”
“That would be a sight to see,” Merlin laughs and they start walking back.
“So there’s going to be druids here again? I don’t think I’ve talked to many.”
“Nor had I before coming across Mordred. He seems like an okay boy though. Stares a bit too much for my liking.”
“You were like that though,” Will says.
“What? Was not.”
“No, really, you were blank-faced out in public. The others wouldn’t want to go near you, and then I took pity.”
“Ha!” Merlin barks out another laugh. “Yeah, sure, the town rascal saved the quiet one a quiet life. Don’t get it wrong, they lumped me in with you and you were a troublemaker enough for the both of us. Still are, I reckon, if what mom says is correct.”
“Slander! I’ve been perfectly good.”
“You forget that I haven’t been gone long, Will,” Merlin smirks.
It’s quiet a few moments as they walk before Will speaks again. “So are you back a while then?”
“A few days at most. The Lady Morgana can’t be too far for too long and the king mustn’t know we went to another kingdom. She’s apparently sympathetic with the druids and wants to help, but all I’ve told her is that the boy’s my ward. She’s hinted that she knows otherwise, pretty blatantly, so Arthur must have told her that he was the druid they were looking for. I’m not sure what she’s told the maid, Gwen, but I know that the knight, Leon, doesn’t know that Mordred is a druid at all, much less the faux ward.”
“Wait, you brought a knight back here? A nobel?” Will questions incredulously, grabbing onto Merlin’s arm to stop them on the outskirts. “A knight of Camelot?”
“The Lady is a nobel as well–”
“It’s not the same!”
“Don’t let her hear that,” Merlin snorts. “I’ve heard that she likes to practise with swords herself. From what Gwen tells me, the only thing that really holds her back is that she is a woman in a man’s domain. She couple probably take you on, if not take you down.”
Will whistles low at the thought. “Maybe I’ll have to ask her now that she’s here.”
“Why learn to fight if you hate nobles and don’t want to be a knight?”
“There’s many reasons to learn! Bandits, for one, but mostly because you must know how to fight nobility to not fight for them,” Will says. Merlin can see the stakes in the banditry talk, but his skills lie more in hunting. “So is your mother going to host everyone then?”
“No, we’ve set up a camp not far from the house,” Merlin says and points off towards the trees where the horses are set up. “We couldn’t have everyone fit into the house without something coming to light, and with Leon here then we want to be extra cautious. No need to tempt fate more than we already are,” Merlin says sagely.
“Well, if you’re only gonna be here for a few days and you’re not staying with your mum, then you can stay with me, Merls.” Will wrinkles his nose good-naturedly. “I’ve only got room for you though, not the nobles.”
“Gwen’s not a nobel,” Merlin points out with a smile. “She works for one just the same as I.”
“Eh, but how else would I catch up on the tricks you’ve learned?” Will smiles. “I doubt it’s all doctoring you’ve learned since being there.”
“Fine, a deal then: I’ll stay with you so long as you don’t say anything against them being nobles.” His smile quirks. “It’s not like they can help how they are born anyway.”
Will scrunches up his nose comically at having his words tossed back at him from some time go and fakes a put-upon sigh before laughing. “Let’s head back then, before they either send out a search or the fish starts to smell, yeah?”
The next couple days are relatively fun for Merlin. He bridges the gap between peasant and noble when they are talking and breaking bread together and soaks up the relative peace of home.
Will does end up taking up the task of asking the Lady Morgana for swordsman advice, surprisingly respectful compared to his general countenance with even the thought of nobles. The ladies show off what they know while Leon looks on, pretending to have little interest as he plays the part of a non-knighted noble. Mostly he stays in the background and at times Merlin forgets that they even brought him along. Gwen chats with Hunith a while when they are switching and they end up swapping recipes during their stay.
At night he and Will stay up talking about magic and what Merlin has learned in Camelot.
They never really had the opportunity before since he didn’t know any technicalities and rules of magic before he had left for Camelot, all of it being instinctual and without words to make it work. However, with all the work foisted upon him in Camelot, he still doesn’t have a lot of time to study magic as much as he would like. Merlin does ask Mordred questions through their connection, which Will barely believes in, but there’s not much to go on. Mordred can’t control a lot of what he does yet, but despite his youth he knows more teachings of magic than Merlin does, which boggles the poor boy’s mind. Mordred tells them about the stories he’s heard and the lessons he’s been through at the camp and Merlin’s mind alights with a passion for learning once more. This goes double when he mentions a few members he’s heard of that have turned into animals and are able to use the mind connection to send more than thoughts. Merlin wonders if there’s not a way to get the connection to work with non-magic folk as Will pouts first, then brings up some valid uses for silent speech.
All in all, it’s the best kind of normal Merlin has had in a while and by the time they are set to leave, Merlin’s surprisingly more reluctant to depart than he would have thought. He hugs his mother and his ‘ward’, needlessly reminding them that the druids would be coming in a day or two after they have left. He wishes the boy luck and safe travels and promises his mother to write more when he can.
As they are readying the horses, Will walks up. “You could stay here, you know,” he suggests.
Merlin laughs. “No, don’t tempt me, Will.”
“Oh, please. I would be the last one to tell you to leave. Hell, if it’s just staying with your mother, then you could stay with me.”
Merlin looks to the other three as they start getting up onto their mounts. They’re mostly preoccupied by their task, but occasionally they do look over, so he lowers his voice to a whisper level. “I can’t stay,” he says again, for the countless times Will’s asked on this trip.
“You’ve not been the clearest on why, though. I wouldn’t tell and your mother has seemed to calm. There isn’t a reason not to since you’ve got things well in hand with your tricks. If you can live in Camelot for this long and not be found then living here should be better than a breeze.”
“I can’t, Will,” Merlin insists. “There’s more to it than simple control, though that is a large part of it. It’s only a matter of time before they look too close here or someone says something to the wrong person. It takes more effort to get noticed for oddities in a larger city like Camelot, even more so for a servant. If suspicions arose here and the capital for word of it…” Merlin trails off as he thinks of it. “You’re just going to have to believe me that she would be less stressed about me there.”
“She is stressed that you’ll find your death there, Merlin.”
“Not as stressed as she would be about me living here under her foot. Her concerns are truly valid ones, Will. Now that she has calmed over it, talk to her and hear her out to know.” Merlin looks over to see that everyone is ready to leave, up on their horses already, to he throws his arms around Will in another hug. “Keep watch over her, will you?”
“You know I would, Merls. Keep safe in the big city, yeah?”
“I’ll do my best,” Merlin says before he pulls back and scrambles a bit back onto the horse. “If you kept up on your reading then I would write to you as well,” Merlin tells him.
“You know that weren’t ever my thing,” Will says with a cheeky smile. Though if it’s to keep in touch with his friend, then maybe he’ll pick up the skill more to get information Hunith wouldn’t be told.
The group departs back towards Camelot and it’s a quiet ride for a while through the pass until Morgana comments. “That was a very nice place, Merlin. Why is it that you left?”
Obviously he couldn’t just tell her, but the thought of lying to Morgana didn’t appeal, so he doesn’t go for the ‘left to find work to send home’ excuse that’s relatively common for peasant towns. “Things just… change.”
“How?”
“I just… Didn’t fit in? With everyone. Anyone, really. I wanted to find somewhere that I fit into, where I could be accepted.”
“Hm… You seemed accepted to me.”
Morgana catches a bitter smile on Merlin’s face that looks wrong for the normally cheery man. “You mistake it for tolerance, my Lady. Surely you don’t think guests would be privy to all their thoughts.”
“Merlin, people like you,” Gwen says. “What about that Will?”
“Will has always been the exception to the rule in that regard. He and his dad moved to the village when I was eleven summers old and we became friends shortly after, I suppose. Outliers tend to lie together.” If it had been winter before Will had befriended Merlin then it would be likely that the words of the village would have soaken in more and it wouldn’t have happened as it did.
Leon jumps into the conversation then again, surprising Merlin once more of his presence and he tries to make note to notice when Leon is around in the future. “It seemed that people only talked well of you, that you’re a hardworking man.”
Merlin looks back to the man who’s trailing after them on guard. “I thought that the villagers stayed away from you guys.”
If Leon were so casual, he would shrug. “I decided that I should be able to help while we were there and I was mending a fence for one of your neighbours while overlooking the swordplay of your friend and the Lady Morgana. They had said that when you lived there you took on extra work for the others, like gathering wood and coming back plentiful while the food seemed sparse and sharing it with everyone.”
“You were talking to Agatha, right? Older, son lost to fighting?”
“Yes, I believe that’s what she said her name was.”
“Then you ran into one of the more polite of the polite. She moved there two years ago, maybe three, when she couldn’t support herself in one of the towns closer to the capital. Will and I would always help her with her animals and her part of the harvest.” Merlin turns back to watch where they’re going again. “She wouldn’t have a negative thing to say about either of us even though everyone knows that Will stirs up trouble as he breathes. Anyone new to town are typically more polite while the others would actually just be more tolerant. I don’t think any of you guys met with too many of the ones who have been there since I was born or longer.”
“Why is it that you see tolerance more than actual kindness?” Morgana ask. “Surely an able-bodied man who helps others selflessly would be revered rather than merely tolerated.”
Merlin nods. “Under normal circumstances then he would.”
“‘Normal circumstances’?” Gwen asks.
“I’m a–” magic using “bastard,” Merlin says plainly, the admittance to being a bastard always having been easier than a person who wields magic. “They look down on both my mother and I and have done so since before I was born.”
“Morgana, ever the activist, defends him. “That’s hardly your fault.”
“I don’t disagree with you, my Lady. No man gets a say in whether or not he is born and where that is. No, the issue, in their eyes, is that my mother was unwed at the time she was pregnant and has never married since. That there is no discernable man and she won’t tell who it was.”
“Did… did something happen to her?” Gwen asks and he can hear the regret in her voice most of the way through the question. Morgana shoots her a look that Merlin happens to have looked back and caught. Leon looks highly uncomfortable in the back, like he’s apologising for the whole of men everywhere, and Merlin is a little proud that she’s not turning to a rambled apology after sticking her foot in her mouth.
“Oh, yes,” Merlin says, revelling in the drama of it for a second as the tension rises. He turns to look back at them again and smiles. “She fell in love.” Immediately the tension is cut and he can tell that Morgana is none too pleased at his chuckling. “That’s all I really knew of him growing ip though. She fell in love with him and there wouldn’t be another man for her. The villagers believe him to be some kind of criminal: an outlaw or some bandit. The story hasn’t changed much since there hasn’t been any information on it in all the years. ‘Hunith is a kind and loving soul, helping everyone out where she can, whether it be a meal or a warm bed to lie on’,” he quotes in a mocking tone, emphasising where the villagers would.
Growing up he had thought nothing of it. To him, people were just praising his mother and complimenting her on her goodness. It wasn’t until he was older that he understood the meaning they were putting underneath the flattering words they would share amidst travellers. Arthur wasn’t the first person he’s tried to punch, but usually he is more successful, and for his mothers sake he wouldn’t be the last. Ever since he understood what they were saying about her, he has never stopped defending her. He lets go whatever words they nanner on about for himself, but not words over her.
“That’s awful,” Morgana says, the other two nodding along.
“Yeah, well, I can’t change what they think, but they don’t say anything about it when Will and I are around at least. People tend to like their teeth, after all. I guess that’s also why it wasn’t spread to the newest people in the village.”
“Wait,” Leon says, “you’ve punched a man’s teeth out?” He’s highly sceptical that a scrawny boy like Merlin could do such a thing.
“Obviously not on the first landing,” Merlin says, “teeth are stronger than that of course. It disappoints my mother though, so I’ve held back on many occasions, like when we’ve taken the town’s taxes into the capital.” It doesn’t stop Merlin from handing out some ‘divine retribution’ when her back is turned from them though. “Anyway, enough with nitpicking my life, it’s not that interesting. Tell me what it was like growing up in Camelot! Did you guys grow up together?” Merlin asks and the conversation shifts gears.
The rest of the way back is full of little anecdotes about the three of them, since it did turn out that they knew each other growing up. There were even a few funny stories that Merlin try to remember to tease Arthur about when they get back and a few of some boy names Elyan, who Merlin gathers to be Gwen’s brother.
Talk of the druid boy is done when they get back to the capital. Uther had called off the search and no one further was executed. Morgana misses the chance to grill Merlin about the druid boy and Arthur never mentions the boy again.
Merlin thinks that’s so Arthur can forget that he technically committed treason against the very crown he represents, but Merlin commits treason daily for having the audacity to be alive, so it’s not as big of a deal to him as any other day. When he sees the dragon again he’s chewed out for not letting the boy die, but it still seems unreasonable to Merlin. He supposes if the boy is the one to bring Arthur’s death then it would be good enough that he is far away, but there’s little he can do about that now as he never for the information before it.
The whole incident gets treated like any other happening that Merlin’s been a part of, so it’s starting to get into the routine of ‘we’re just not going to talk about the weird things that happen here when they are done’. The list of things not mentioned grows from Merlin outrightly saving the prince’s life, the magic shield with Valiant, and the whole clay-water-monster that started a plague. Merlin has a not-so-funny feeling about that list getting longer the more time he spends in Camelot, but there’s not much he can do about it.
It’s destiny.