I have another story going on but I decided to post this first. It has been written for months and I don't want to toss it in a trash. Enjoy :) The rating may change immensely but the first chapter is certainly K+!
Once upon a time there was a boy who was imprisoned after two months he was born. Confined together with him was a Dragonlord whose name was Balinor. Although balinor was loyal to the king, the king Uther Pendragon still took an oath that he should be executed.
Uther's hatred for magic was known to every household across the borders. His only son was born thanked to magic, but his loving wife was forever taken away by magic. He decided to rid magic out of the land as thoroughly as possible.
The court physician's loyalty to the king could never be doubted—though hardly anyone one knew that he had once practiced magic, except his love Alice. He helped her escaped from Camelot during the Great Purge. Besides, he also helped quite a few sorcerers get away from Uther Pendragon's talons. He helped magic itself escape.
That's how we've got Morgause, the witch with blonde hair. Her parents gave her to Gaius the night before execution and she was secretly sent away. Morgause at that time was a very bothering child, but her boohoos didn't wake up the stupid guards of Camelot. Let along Merlin who was much less worrisome—he was sweet most of the time, with his sapphire eyes looking at you. His skin was soft and creamy-white and his ears stuck out.
Balinor found Merlin wrapped in a blanket under a tree on his way of abscondence. He took Merlin with him and they had no place to stay so they had to move day after day. He tried to find him some milk.
Merlin could barely talk but he moved objects with his mind around. His mother must have believed that he was the devil's child to abandon him.
They were under arrest again months later.
Gaius arrived on time in front of the barriers of the dungeon. The guards were all sleeping soundly as the potion onset.
"Take care of him, Gaius." Balinor moved closer, "He's the most gifted child I've ever seen. You know, a gift for magic."
"Oh, that's impressive. I know a place where he can be carefully tended to and I will take him there safely."
"Thank you, my old friend. You have no idea how lucky I am to know you."
Morgana the Witch was not beautiful, but men seldom noticed that when they were enchanted by her charm. It was her charm, not her magic.
She was sixteen and has marvelous skin, a lot of hair which was raven and curly and wild; her lips were red like wine, her eyes were pale green like emerald and starred with black tilted lashes; there was a tiny mole on her neck which made it even more slender and pale. Men would die for her smooth and round bottom as well as her lovely and flawless bosom. Men would die for her whole figure.
Let's take the day she went to the market as an example. As she approached a shabby carriage and took off the hood of her cloak, Helios who had a swarthy complexion immediately made his way up to her, giving her his best grin of adulation and kissed her snow white hand.
"My maiden."
There was a hint of smile on Morgana's face which looked almost dangerous. For such a young lady in her age, she was a little bit eerily sophisticated.
Helios grin deepened on his face as he uttered, "I really cannot think of a word to express my gratitude to you, dearest Morgana, if it had not been you who had done me such a splendid favor, I am afraid I would have been…" he paused, "the hell with it, law of Camelot!"
Morgana fluttered her eyelashes, "Relax, Helios, you'd better keep your swearing to yourself. You're still smuggling?"
"Good lord, no." He looked around to make sure that nobody noticed, and lifted the screen of the carriage, "I only take one or two of them when I come here. Have to be careful."
Inside there were two little children in ragged, hair askew and face dusty, both of them looked frightened.
"Get one, my maiden? I'll give you a discount—they can cook, make you fires, almost every chore in your house will they finish and no one will even bother how you treated them. All I need is a few gold coins."
"No, thanks, Helios, maybe you can go to and find me another one. These are not good enough for me."
"But—"
"Don't forget the fact I'd given you a hand for more than once." She cast him a smile.
A month later, when Helios raised the screen for her, she saw a boy who was approximately seven or eight sitting inside, almost fearless in his eyes—those eyes were sapphire, and they were now staring curiously at Morgana. His ears looked goofy, she thought, and his hair was still too long and face still dirty.
"You're satisfied, my maiden? I bought him from that corpulent woman who owns a tavern near the town of Camelot, has cost me a lot indeed. He worked for her, of course, and he does cook." He whispered in her ear, "It is said that he is one of your kind."
"Good job you've done, then name your price."
"The boy weighs nearly thirty pounds and a gold coin every ten pounds, so there were three gold coins in total."
"Wow, that's—"
"Don't fuss my maiden—it's my honor to return you the favor."
"Oh, Helios, you always think of your old friend. How kind of you." She looked at him with her mysterious green eyes and smiled.
She paid him the coins and dragged the shackles around the boy's wrists. He followed her. It was such a wonderful deal.
Morgana's hovel had only one floor and not even an attic was contained, furnishings were dark and stuff piled up the shelves messily. Despite that it was deep inside the forest sunlight could still float through the windows and into every corner—warmly and comfortingly.
Like every child who was bought home by a witch, Merlin had to work and work and work, though he was not an ordinary one. Some witch wasn't evil—they wouldn't bake you for breakfast once you failed her and would tell you bed time stories. They were very amiable.
Morgana certainly was not amiable at all, nor did she eat children up for meals—she just didn't allow Merlin to use magic when he worked or she would sell him to the king of Camelot who gave rewards for hunting those who had magic.
Like every witch who bought slaves home to work, Morgana was on top of the world—she used to do everything by herself, she had no choice, but now she could enjoy her days like a queen. Further more, she had another person in her place now, and he had magic. She hadn't expected that he had magic.
The boy didn't show up in her dreams.
It had never been anything good in her dreams—it was all terrible nightmares. She squirmed and shrieked then woke up all nights when they were haunting her. She'd seen her guardian dead in one of them—his name was Gorloris and an arrow shot in his chest. Cendred's men did this.
Gorloris fight for Camelot, he was a noble knight.
She thought she needed to find him—tell him to come back or he would die—but it was too late. She only saw the funeral King Uther gave him.
She had never got tears in her eyes ever since.
Merlin worked slowly without magic.
He wiped the floor with a cloth and a bucket to hold the water, on his knees with earnest and scrupulousness. Morgana was watching him—she watched him go outside the house to pick some flowers and put them into the vase, the air at no time became fragrant.
She watched him in the kitchen, it took a long time for him to finished, but—they were tasty. She was amazed at his culinary skills.
She stabbed the fish and put it into her mouth. It had been six years since the last time she had something like this.
Gorloris didn't have magic, but he was a fantastic cook.
His death was like a poisonous curse, preventing her from sleeping and having a heart. She suffered insomnia together with headache—she actually forgot how it felt like to sleep until she had got the healing bracelet from Morgause.
However, when she swallowed down the last mouthful of soup, she felt that she would like to weep—but then a sharp noise interrupted her moment of silence. She rose from her perch to see what was going on.
It was Merlin. He had pulled the cloth which covered the healing bracelet off to sweep one of her shelves. The bracelet fell to the ground and smashed into pieces.
So, what do you think?