I had the idea a while ago for a collection of one-shots, all involving the childhoods of Merlin characters. I've already got a few written, they just need to be typed - in other words, posting this hasn't caused me to spend loads of time away from my actual WIPs. :P Speaking of which... Fore and Hindsight 5, coming up soon!

I'll change the character/genre information every time I post a new chapter, so you'll have some idea from the outside whether it's your kind of thing. Most of these will be fairly short. Enjoy!

Of Fathers and Friends

The village of Ealdor was a small one, but in many ways that was good. If you grew up there, or even visited for a fair amount of time, you had most likely run into everyone at least once.

Another advantage was that for chores such as fetching water from the river on one side of the village, it didn't matter if you lived all the way on the opposite side - it still wasn't that far to walk. For this, Merlin was thankful.

His mother, Hunith, had sent him with a bucket to collect their weekly water supply. It had rained heavily the night before, so the river ought to have been flowing with fresh water. The only thing Merlin disliked about this was the state of the ground. It rolled and sloshed and splashed beneath his feet with every step. Hunith had scolded him just yesterday for dirtying his clothes.

He waded carefully through the village, saying hello to the familiar faces he passed. A kind old woman named Marian handed him an apple from her tree to eat on the way. He took it gladly and was about to take a bite when, as he passed an old abandoned shack, he heard a sob.

Merlin stopped with the apple halfway to his mouth and slowly lowered his hand, lips still parted. He stepped cautiously closer to the disheveled building and the sobs grew louder.

There was no handle on the door, only a gaping hole where it used to be. Merlin gripped at the edge of the hole and pulled. The door made a high-pitched screech of protest; the top hinge was broken, and the bottom one looked ready to collapse as well. He hurried inside, lest it choose to give away while he stood in its line of fire.

No one was there. Puzzled, Merlin continued to follow the sound until he came to another door on the opposite wall. The sobbing and sniffling was definitely increasing in volume.

This time when he pushed open the door, he found what he was looking for on the other side. A boy his age was sitting with his back against the shack. His eyes were red and puffy, and the stringy state of his mousy brown hair made Merlin think he had been there all night, even during the rain. Tears flowed freely down his dirty cheeks.

Merlin slid down next to him in the mud. He knew his mother would yell at him later for ruining his trousers again, but he tried not to think about that.

"Hey," he said kindly, trying to get the boy to look at him, "what's wrong?"

The boy gulped and, after a few failed attempts, choked out, "Wh-who are you?"

"My name's Merlin," Merlin replied, holding out his hand. The other boy didn't take it; Merlin wasn't sure if it was because he couldn't see it through the tears, or because he just couldn't bring up the energy.

"I'm Will," the boy sniffed after a while. "My... my f-father... the king sent him into battle... h-he didn't even know h-how to fight..."

It didn't take a genius to put the pieces together, and Merlin was pretty bright for his eight years. "I'm sorry," he told Will sincerely, not quite knowing what else to say. "I don't have a father, either. I don't even know who he was."

Will absorbed this thought, then wiped his eyes with an already damp sleeve. "My father told me boy aren't s'posed to cry. He said we have to be strong for the girls."

"That's not what I was taught. I was raised by my mother, and she says that everyone cries. It's what makes us human."

Will shook his head stubbornly, but he didn't try to cover a renewed round of sobs. Tentatively, Merlin put an arm around Will's shoulders. "You must be hungry. Want my apple?"

He offered it to the other boy, who nodded and took it. It was a small gesture, but Merlin hoped it helped. "Listen, I've got to finish my chore. I'm supposed to be getting water." He motioned toward the bucket he had abandoned at his side. It was coated in mud, but that was okay; he could wash it off in the river. "Do you want to come with me?"

Will shrugged and got to his feet. Merlin followed suit, inspecting the damage done to his trousers. The entire back side was wet, and some mud had splattered onto the front. At least this pair had been brown to begin with.

He led Will - who seemed too distraught to use any sense of direction - to the river, where they cleaned off as best they could and filled the bucket to the brim. A portion of it slipped over the side on the journey back, but not enough for Merlin to care.

They reached Will's house before Merlin's. Will discarded the core, all that remained of the apple Merlin had given him, and bade goodbye.

Merlin continued on the short way to his home, trying to swing the bucket as little as possible to preserve what was left.

He and Will had not talked much, really, but he had enjoyed the company anyway, and he thought it had been good for Will to get his mind off his father's death for a while. Merlin did not have any friends he felt really close to, but he and Will had something they could share that few other understood - the grief of a missing father. Somehow he knew then that he had just begun a new friendship, one of the best he would have in his life.

When he opened the door to his house, Hunith was standing just inside, waiting for him. A dozen excuses for the amount of time he had taken flew to his tongue, but his mother's eyes were trained downward, and it was only then that Merlin remembered his pants.

Hunith let out a long-suffering sigh. "Oh, Merlin..."