Alright. I know I'm a terrible person, not updating other fics and posting this instead, but I stumbled upon this while I was flicking through my archives and I just couldn't resist sharing it with you guys. Now I have another story in mind that develops this one :)

Hope you enjoy- tell me what you think!

Her Little Warlock

by xBookEaterx

Sophie Morgan burst into Merlin's room. She had heard her adoptive son's sobs from her room, and her heart threatened to escape her mouth with panic.

"Merlin! Merlin, my boy, what is it?" She turned on the light, alarmed when she saw the bulb flickering. She rushed to his side and held his slim shaking form to her, shushing him and wiping away his tears with a soothing finger.

"Was it a nightmare? Was it Camlann again?" she asked. Sophie knew what an exceptional boy Merlin was, you see. She knew about the magic, about Camelot, about Emrys.

She had discovered everything years ago, when she'd walked into her son's room and found a twenty-something-year old stranger sitting on Merlin's bed. She had been so terrified, thinking about all the kidnappers that roamed the city those days, feeling panic over the safety of her sweet boy… But then the stranger had shrunk- as if by magic- into the eight-year-old boy she'd grown to love ever since she'd adopted him. Merlin loved too much. He loved her enough not to let her in the dark about who he really was anymore.

He showed her the magic, shyly trusted her with his true immortal appearance, trusted her with his pain. He talked about Camelot, Arthur, Destiny. About the things he'd lived throughout his long years.

He grew into his older self. As he spoke, worrying over her reaction, she listened and stared at the man in front of her in wonder. He was as gentle and kind as her little boy. His expression, his sweet, quirky smile, his hand gestures, the strange, antiquated words he used.

It surprised her that she wasn't bothered by the revelation that the boy she'd adopted and loved like a son was in fact an old legendary warlock.

She knew him. He was her son. He loved horses, slept with his arms to his sides and his mouth slightly open; he had an obsession with strawberries and claimed that hot chocolate was Humanity's greatest invention. He loved reading, playing with words. Even if he had that melancholic look about him, he was dreamy, intelligent, and loving.

She knew what mattered about his caring soul.

Nothing different from her boy, really. She still loved him all the same. And that's why it pained her to see him cry.

"Did you dream about Arthur? Was it Morgana?"

The twelve-year-old-looking warlock pursed his lips, his face pale. "It's everything." His gasp was real, and deep, and it tore at Sophie's heart.

Her son was centuries older than her, and had been condemned to an eternal life of rejection and pain, of seeing people being born and die over and over again. Yet- his old soul was held in a young body, his emotions taking control as he grew up.

"I- I keep seeing them. The people I've failed."

Denying his words and saying he was not at fault would not help, Sophie had discovered that years ago. Merlin was too scarred, too haunted. He was an old man drowning in guilt.

But he was still a boy again, her son, the most valuable treasure life could have put in her way. Merlin had had too much time to think over the centuries, he was overrun with self-loathing. And it broke Sophie's heart to see such a sweet person feel that way.

She saw the pain in those beautiful blue orbs, the ancient knowledge, the despair and resignation.

"Oh, my boy. My sweet boy…" She hugged him again, tighter this time. His fingers buried in her back, his lanky form clinging to her as if his life depended on it.

"Mom..." he sobbed. "Mom…"

Her fingers buried in his hair as she stroke his hair and placed a calming kiss to his temple. As she held him, Sophie silently thanked the Heavens for giving them both a second chance at family. She didn't dare think what Merlin would be going through now if he didn't have her to listen. Would he be wandering the world? Would he get enough sleep? Would he eat his meals? Would he trust another?

Her heart clenched at the thought that no, he probably wouldn't. She was fortunate that she'd gotten to him in a moment when he'd felt so alone he'd dared give it a try at family again. He'd only been at the foster home for a week when she found him. He'd confessed to her years later that he probably wouldn't have lasted much longer in that somber place.

Yet here they were, together, mother and son. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Merlin didn't need to tell her anything about his nightmares. She knew enough to see the pain they caused him. Nightmares inspired by memories were the worst- that she knew of.

"Hey, lad." She said softly, when, after several minutes, his sobs dwindled . "Make some space, will you?"

He gave her a weak smile at that, and slid to the left on his bed. She got into the covers with him, and they stared at the ceiling with their arms under their heads. After a few minutes, Merlin cuddled into her, resting his head on her shoulder. His breathing was slower, deeper.

Sophie noticed that the light bulb wasn't flickering anymore.

Suddenly, he spoke in a whisper. "You're different."

"Hm?"

"From my birth mother."

Her heart skipped a beat, as it did whenever Merlin spoke of his past. He continued.

"But I love you all the same."

Sophie felt warmth spread through her body.

"We used to watch the stars together like this, as well."

"We can climb to the rooftop if a light bulb doesn't suit you." Sophie quipped and Merlin snorted.

"This is nice, too." He sighed contentedly, his nightmares put away in the back of his mind. "Before I met you, I had forgotten what this felt like."

Sophie didn't need to speak, as Merlin continued. "The warmth. The love. Family. I'm glad you found me."

Sophie smiled and leaned her head closer to rest on his hair.

"I'm glad I found you too."

With a golden flicker, Merlin turned off the light. Sophie fumbled with the bedcovers and tucked him in closer. She traced his nose with her forefinger, then his eyebrows. Merlin hummed happily.

"I love you, mom."

"And I you, sweetheart. Sleep well."

As she held her boy closer to her, she smiled. Merlin's breathing grew deep and steady. He was safe in the knowledge that she would take care of him.

Sophie had decided years ago: it didn't matter if Destiny claimed him as its own again. If Arthur returned during or after her time. Whatever hardships her son was to endure in the future, she would be there for him, to listen, to console him. She had that kind of magic on her own, and-Destiny be damned-, no one would ever touch a hair on her little warlock's head ever again. Sophie would make sure there was always a place for her little man to return to. They would wait till Destiny claimed him again. Until then, Sophie and Merlin would be a family.
Mother and son clinged to each other as the night wore on.