AN: Just a little one-shot. I really wanted to write some young merlin, and we just had a snow day today (School was cancelled! YES!), so snow was on my mind. It was fun, and I may write some sequel one-shots to this. If anybody has any suggestions for sequels etc, leave a review! I'll be happy to write what you suggest.
Enjoy!
Market day in Ealdor. The small village was bustling; colorful tents had been erected among the mounds of white snow. It was still carefully falling; the little flakes drifting lightly to the ground as though the whole town had been covered in a sprinkling of sugar. Horses whinnied as puffs of frost and steam billowed from their noses. Children ran about, mothers seeming much less careful, as everybody was frolicking: market day and a fresh snow will do that.
New smells were everywhere. Chocolate and chestnuts roasting, meat on spits over the many fires scattered through the town. Woodsmoke and the strange smell of snow - cold and sweet. There would be partying tonight, where all would bring some sort of foodstuff to one of the many fire pits around the village, and all would share. No one would be hungry, no one would be cold.
Even magic was accepted today. There were many stalls set up by passing druids, who advertised magical healing potions and little trinkets. A small doll who could walk, a little carved dog that barked. A ball that bounced higher than the trees, they said. Nobody worried that it was magic, and usually frowned upon. When a beautiful woman bent, and closed her fist, dozens of children - druid and non-magical alike - gathered. And when she opened her hand, beautiful blue butterflies, the very color of azure stones in the earrings she wore, fluttered into the air, and settled on the children; landing on their noses, their hair, their outstretched palms.
Not everyone was making merry, though. Crouched behind a vacant stall were two young boys, hardly more than ten years old. One had raven-black hair, pale skin and pink cheeks. His blue eyes sparkled. The other was a little shorter, with longer, brown, unkempt hair. His complexion was ruddy, and his eyes were dark brown. They were perfectly happy, but the man they were staring at was decidedly not - or at least, he was making everybody else unhappy. Standing in the middle of the group of tents, amid all the beauty and excitement, a large, expansive man was bellowing. His cheeks and forehead were red, his cheeks covered in whisker stubble. His feet were planted, and a hand was pointed in the air. A red cape hung from his shoulders, with the Pendragon crest etched in gold in the middle. He was shouting, and nobody save the two boys appeared to be listening intently, all were trying to ignore him.
"Magic is evil! It must be purged!" Cried the man. Behind the stall, the black-haired boy cringed.
"Don't listen to him, Merlin. He doesn't know what he's talking about." Said the other boy.
"Down with magic! It can never be used for good!"
"It… it just hurts. Sometimes. Sometimes I forget what I am." Merlin said, a little sadly.
"Cheer up, mate! You know what you actually are?" Will was constantly fighting to convince Merlin that his magic was good - ever since the warlock had accidentally revealed to his friend what he could do.
"What, Will?" Merlin asked.
"You are about to knock that man into the muddy puddle!"
Merlin smiled, and they both peeked over the top of the stall. The man was indeed standing before a large round puddle of melted snow. It would be so easy for the young warlock - just a simple wave of his hand - to push him into the muddy pool.
Will smiled encouragingly, and nodded.
Merlin looked back at the man, focused with all his ten-year-old might, held up his hand…
Will caught his breath. He loved it when Merlin did magic.
...and flicked it gently. The man toppled over, his red cape getting thoroughly soiled. Will and Merlin yelped, ducking down behind the stall as the man regained his feet, grumbling. The two boys held in their chuckles. Nobody had run up to help him; everybody hated Camelot's propaganda ambassadors, but nobody did anything about them, despite the fact that Ealdor was even in Camelot - it was in Cenred's kingdom.
"WHO DID THAT?" The man shouted, crossing his arms. Mud dripped from his cape, and there was a smear of brown across his forehead, where he had brushed himself with his finger.
The man whirled around, glaring at each of the stall vendors in turn. His eyes narrowed when he came to a small druid family, tending to a stall selling little figures of animals - wooden cats and bears and horses and something called a bastet - a ferocious-looking winged cat.
"You!" The man thrust his hand out, quickly grabbing a young girl, the daughter of the family. She had gorgeous, curling back hair - the very color of Merlin's - and beautiful, hooded brown eyes. She was wearing a small red dress, which was darker at the bottom from the wetness of the snow. Her cheeks were tinted pink, as was the tip of her nose.
"Leave her alone! She's done nothing!" Cried the father, but he was powerless as the man dragged her to the center of the square.
"She knocked me into the puddle!"
Merlin, shocked, cowered behind the stall. His fear was real… and he peeked above the table, unable to tear his eyes away from what was happening.
Happening because of me! He thought, horrified.
"You cannot even fathom what I'm going to do with you!" The man was screaming, straight into the girl's terrified eyes. Merlin rose a little further out from behind the stall.
The girl's eyes fastened on him - those beautiful eyes, full of terror and fright, drove straight into Merlin's heart. He couldn't let her take the fall!
"I-it was me!" Merlin stammered out, standing up and leaping over the stall.
"Merlin!" Will shouted. "What are you doing?"
One of these days, Will thought, Merlin is going to get caught.
The man, with his tiny, cold eyes, turned straight to Merlin. He thrust aside the girl as though she weighed nothing, and she stumbled, landing in a snowbank. Her gaze locked on Merlin.
Merlin blew a snowflake out of his face, glaring at the man with hatred and fire, daring him to do something.
"Wait!" A call came from across the square. It was another boy - also wearing the red robes of Camelot.
Merlin, the man, and the girl all turned and looked. Will was still hanging back behind the stall, wondering at how his friend could be such an idiot.
The boy approached. His blonde hair and blue eyes shone, and his red-robed shoulders had a dusting of snow. He was wearing mini-sized armor, and what would be a dagger was strapped to his waist - on the boy it was a sword. He radiated arrogance and authority.
Merlin and Will hated him at once, but said nothing - he seemed like he might help them.
"My prince." The man bowed, and dropped to one knee.
"Relax, Gronan." The boy's gaze turned to Merlin, and he sized him up. The boy's red neckerchief, his too-big leather jacket ("I suppose you'll have to grow into it", Hunith had said when she'd given it to her son), and his spindly arms and legs.
"Look at this boy. He's hardly strong enough to push even another child over, and obviously doesn't have magic. His clothes! His stature! He's clearly an oaf." The young pendragon's lip curled at the young warlock. Merlin grew angry at the Prince's remarks, but Will sprang forward and caught him before he could do anything. Merlin shot his friend a glare, but got th message - he would let this play out.
Meanwhile, the Prince had returned to looking at Gronan.
"You're mistaken, Gronan. You probably just tripped. You know what the other knights say about you. When I'm king, I'll have competent knights! Lets go, I'm bored of this village." The prince turned his nose up, as though finding the entire village beneath him, and stalked off. Gronan rose to his feet from his bow, and followed after him, clearly annoyed.
After he was gone, the whole square relaxed.
"What a prat." Merlin spat.
"Clotpole." Will added.
"Dollophead." Merlin suggested.
"But he did just save us." Will reminded him.
Merlin turned disgustedly away, and looked at the girl. He walked over and held out a hand, helping her up. Her black hair had bits of snow, tiny crystals in the nearby firelight. Around them, the activity restarted, people smiling and frolicking once more. The danger was passed, the partying could continue.
"Thanks." She said, quietly, her small pink mouth barely moving.
"It was nothing." Merlin said.
"But you took the fall for me?" She asked, as though it were a question. Merlin smiled, and she managed to smile back, though it was small and tentative.
"I couldn't let him hurt you. You hadn't done anything." Merlin, young though he was, had the telltale spark of chivalry flickering inside him, and a touch of rebelliousness to feed the flames. The girl, smiling widely now, looked him directly in the eyes.
"Thank you, Merlin." She whispered. She took a step back, looked down, and dug her toe into the snow. Then, she looked up again, and took a step forward. Merlin stood there, a little bewildered. The girl leaned forward suddenly, grabbing Merlin's shoulders, and planted her pink lips directly over his. Merlin opened his eyes widely, shocked and paralyzed, not sure what to do. She had her eyes closed, and her eyelashes brushed his cheeks.
After a minute that seemed to take a year, the girl pulled away. She smiled more widely now, at Merlin's eyes, wide as saucers, his lips frozen in a pout, his cheeks flushed with redness as he blushed all the way to his too-large ears.
"Freya!" Called the man from the stall, presumably her father, "It's time to go!"
The girl turned around, sending little clots of snow flying, and rushed over to her father and mother, who had packed up their stall. She took her father's hand as they walked off, and shot a single glance back to Merlin, still frozen where he was. Her sly smile unfroze him.
"Freya." He finally whispered, touching his lips in awe.
He wondered if he'd ever see her again.