A/N: Magic is a living thing, so surely being around Emyrs so often would affect Merlin's friends? Merlin hasn't revealed himself, and Arthur still follows his fathers beliefs. (I do hope Arthur finds out sooner than this in the show though)


Gut-wrenching, heart-stopping, all-encompassing fear poisoned his insides as instinct launched him backwards from the sight searing into his memory. Across the threshold of the doorway he could see his wife standing stiff and frightened, as the wooden block travelled lazy circles around her feet. Soft murmuring slithered from the child sitting calmly in the centre of the room, his own son, poisoned, cursed. Thought fled from his mind and he watched helplessly, unable to command his unresponsive body to come to his sweet wife's aid.

"Arthur?"
Gentle touch brushed his shoulder and he released a strangled gasp, gaze burning into the one who had appeared by his side, desperately struggling to voice his plea for assistance. Curious eyes swept from him to survey the dreadful event occurring in the chamber room, and with only a tightening in the grip on his shoulder his friend had rushed in.

Arthur forced his feet into movement, cautiously following as he watched Merlin sit himself calmly by the child, lifting the boy onto his lap and chattering away to him amidst cries of, "Unc'e Merwin!'

The toy block came to a stop with a quiet clunk, and his arms were filled with a shaking Guinevere as she fled from her spot rooted to the floor. Merlin ignored them as another block rose to hover by his shoulder, actually reaching out to touch the dangerous object. He bounced the giggling child resting on his knees as he brought the wooden toy closer and waved it in front of the boy, lilting voice not quite loud enough to carry to the two anxious parents.

Arthur watched, transfixed as his son whined at whatever his uncle had told him, bursting into giggles as his friend ruffled the young prince's hair. Guinevere's eyes were locked on the remaining toys by the side of their son and friend, watching for the slightest movement from the inanimate objects. Merlin made no move to discard the toy, instead letting the young prince slide it into his small hands, watching as he turned it over and over intently. A shudder wracked through Arthur at the sight, and he wanted nothing more than to wrench that conduit of magic from his innocent son's fingers, to take him far from this room and never think on this matter again. Looking up from where he had let his gaze drop to the worn floor he caught his old friend looking at him, eyes sharp and disapproval clear in his face.

The harsh emotion slipped quickly as the child looked back to his uncle, a teasing smile breaking back onto Merlin's face as the toy was passed back to him, and he was soon engaged in his childish pattering once again. Neither king nor queen moved from each other's side, hesitant to disrupt the easy atmosphere that had been forged around them. Soon the boy was yawning, exhausted from his unorthodox playtime. His uncle cradled him carefully as he brought his feet under him, carrying him over to the soft bed and tucking him down under the warming covers. The little prince snuggled down into his pillow as Merlin hummed soft lullabies under his breath. The parents watched; their hearts in turmoil as their sons breathing softened into muttering snores.

When Merlin caught their attention and beckoned them both from the room, eyes hard at their reaction to the playful show of magic, neither made a sound of protest and followed meekly; fully expecting the scolding to come.