Merlin had a ridiculous amount of work to do.
All in the course of one day, Arthur had managed to dirty his armor, dirty his sword, drive his horse into a mud puddle the size of a small lake, break his shield, and make it look like a whirlwind had blew through his chambers. Of course, the prat couldn't do one thing for himself, leaving Merlin to clean up after him. Not to mention the magical bear he had to protect the prince from earlier.
He swears Arthur does it on purpose sometimes.
He was just heading for the stables (just one more thing, Merlin reminded himself, and you can finally practice those spells you've been looking at) when something made him stop.
They were reaching out in all directions, hoping anyone, anything, would hear them, help them, or at least end their pitiful life. They were hungry, and cold, and so, sotired.
Merlin turned his head, trying to find the source of the weak magical broadcast, his task forgotten (the faithful stable boys would clean up Arthur's horse to an acceptable degree, anyway). After about a minute, he found it in a young boy.
He was very small, probably not even to the age of seven, and frighteningly skinny. He must have been living in the streets for a long time. He was dirty, his straw blonde hair (strikingly close to Arthur's, Merlin couldn't help but noting) covered in grime. He was wearing a basic travelling cloak, which was filthier than he was. But was most striking was his eyes.
Merlin caught the poor boy's eyes, and he saw wisdom. And not the common wisdom that came with street smarts, no, this was the rare kind that only came with very old age. In those luminescent green eyes Merlin felt a connection deep within the crevices of his soul. This boy different, this boy was important.Importance far outranking him, or Arthur even. And he needed help.
Merlin knelt down next to the child.
"Can you stand?" he asked him gently. "Can you walk?"
The boy looked up at him, blinking owlishly. He obviously didn't expect anyone would answer his call. He furrowed his large eyebrows. "N-no. I can't. Not right now."
"Do you think you parents would mind if I took you to the castle?" Merlin asked kindly. "You look like you could use a warm meal and a good night's sleep."
"I don't have any parents. I've never had any parents." somehow Merlin had known this answer. "Please," the child begged. "Please Emrys, take me with you."
And so, Merlin scooped up the important starving child and went, not stopping until he reached the chambers he and Gaius shared.
"Merlin-!" Gaius exclaimed as the door burst open. Then he spotted the frail child in his ward's arms. "Oh my..."
"Get him some food." Merlin said hurriedly. He marched over to the extra bed and carefully set the boy down. "I'm going to fetch some bathwater."
He crouched down, meeting the boy's eyes. "I'll be right back, alright? Gaius will take care of you. He's the court physician."
The boy nodded weakly.
Once Merlin was gone, Gaius put a hand to the child's forehead.
"You've got a bit of a fever." he tsked. "That's easy to fix though, once we get some food in you and some blankets on you. Now, what's your name little one?"
"Albion." the boy whispered. "My name is Albion."
Merlin.
Merlin's eyes flew open at Kilgharrah's call.
Young warlock, there is a matter of grave importance that I must speak to you about.
I'm on my way.
Merlin jumped out of bed, hurriedly throwing a tunic over himself. He threw his boots over his stocking feet and quickly tightened the straps. He padded down the short flight of stairs softly, careful not to wake Gaius or, especially, their important patient. The door to their chambers gave a deafening screech when he opened it, making him wince. Luckily it didn't seem to disturb the other occupants' slumber. With another screech Merlin was running down the halls of the castle.
He didn't notice the small shadow that silently followed him.
Merlin reached the clearing in record time. Kilgharrah was waiting for him, his great wings folding and unfolding. He was obviously distressed, which didn't help Merlin's confidence at all.
"What is it?" the warlock asked.
"You have found someone of the greatest importance, young warlock." the Great Dragon said solemnly. "He is the reason for your, and indeed the Prince's, destiny. He is the future, the past, and the present. And without your help, he will surely die."
This disturbed Merlin greatly.
"What do I do? Who is dying?" he asked. He hesitated. "...Is it Albion?"
"Indeed, it is the child." the dragon replied. "But he is not merely mortal, or simply human. He is the land itself, and the people in it. Young Albion is falling apart. You must care for him. You must protect him. And, when the time is right, you must give him Arthur as king. The future of countless generations depends on that boy's survival."
Merlin was speechless. It made no sense, and yet at the same time it was perfectly clear. The boy was the land. The boy was sick, and the land in near chaos. The boy, the land, needed a king. A just king. A great king. A king like Arthur.
Merlin felt a small, cool hand hesitantly slip into his. He looked down to see bright green eyes staring back up at him. There was something in them that he hadn't seen before. There was hope. He smiled.
The warlock knelt down and pulled the child close in a warm, protective embrace.
"I'm here for you, Albion." he whispered comfortingly. As soon as he said it, Merlin knew it was absolutely true. "I always will be."
(In case you didn't know, Albion is the oldest known name for England)
A/N: Just because there aren't enough of these crossovers. I kinda figured that Albion would be like Mordred in a sense, but if everything had gone right and the episode had a best-case scenario ending.
Speaking of Mordred, I saw Hugo today. It was beautiful, I highly recommend it.
