A Hidden Past: Chapter 3- Childhood
Chapter 3 – Childhood
Warning/s: Violence and slight graphic detail, but no gore
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Sharron as my wonderful beta almost changed his name too! Don't ask me why!
A/N: Hi guys. We've made it to the first vision! Dun, dun, dun… For those of you who guessed correctly what this would be about have a virtual cookie.(::) Thank you to everyone who followed, reviewed and favorited, they are very much appreciated and let me know that I'm doing something right with this story. Sorry this took longer than I anticipated it would to upload but I won't bore you with excuses. It's up though! Please check out the poll on my page about which story you want me to work on next. Also, just a little warning the next chapter may be a little wait as I'm currently on work experience.
Enjoy!
Many thanks to Cordelia Rose who betaed this!
Arthur opened his eyes to a scene that was faintly familiar; he was standing on the doorstep of a small hut. The roof was thatched but several bare patches were noticeable, smoke was floating out of the chimney and a woman's singing could be heard inside, as well as the bashing of pots. It was clear that the inhabitant was cooking. He remembered this place: could it be a place he had visited hunting? A pained groan made him spin round and he gasped. Merlin was curled up on the grass, head clutched between his hands. Arthur went to run towards him but Kileen's voice echoed in his head: "you can't help him, young king. He's locked in his memories as we all are."
Children's voices made him turn again and watch with amusement as a small group of boys ran past him. They leapt on each other and wrestled whilst squealing with delight as they landed playful punches. One of the larger boys stood and raised a stick, pointing it at another boy. He began jabbing it at him, while the other pretended to die with exaggerated death noises. "I, Sir James, sentence you, John, to death for your crimes of sorcery. Die, sorcerer filth!" he proclaimed, thrusting the stick into the younger boy's chest. Arthur was taken aback at the innocent children's play; they should be playing at heroes, not executing sorcerers. He had been taught that they were evil, that they corrupted the purest of hearts. Obviously, he wasn't the only one who had been taught this. He leant against the cracked wall of the hut behind him and suddenly it struck him. Ealdor. That's where he was, Merlin's home, of course; why hadn't he thought of that before? Of all the places Merlin's earliest memories would be it was here, but surely his worst couldn't be in such a nice place. The children's hatred of magic wouldn't affect Merlin; it wasn't like Merlin started learning magic from such an early age, or so he thought.
The boys were still fighting, this time duelling with more sticks. It made Arthur reminisce of his childhood. He had spent most of it training, trying to please his father, but Merlin's would be different. He would probably be the son of a farmer and his wife who lived their days away from responsibilities and duty. He would have grown up surrounded by love and care, not expectations. So wrapped up in his own thoughts, Arthur didn't notice the pale face materialise in the window by his head. The owner of the face had a shock of black hair that grew low over his eyes and an overall pinched look as if the boy in question had been starved. Arthur only noticed when the boy pressed a hand against the frame and sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Arthur looked up and his jaw hit the floor; the boy was like a mini Merlin. Then it hit him; the boy was Merlin, only he was ten years younger. "Merlin?" a woman's voice called from further inside and young Merlin turned away from watching the others play.
"Yes mother?"
"Could you get some more firewood please?" Hunith, Arthur now realised, called. Merlin disappeared from the window and Arthur soon heard the door to the hut open and shut. He rushed round to follow the boy, wanting to see what Merlin's childhood was like. So far it seemed… normal. He watched Merlin wander aimlessly between the huts, whistling to himself. His destination was another almost identical hut with a woman sitting on the step, a sewing basket on her lap and a tunic on her arm. Her face was crinkled from smiling and laughing, her hands calloused from cooking and cleaning. She looked up as Merlin approached and smiled.
"Morning Merlin, Will's out back," she said, threading a needle and gesturing to around the back of the hut. Merlin's signature goofy grin lit his face up as he dashed towards the small garden behind the hut. Another ten year old boy was there, pulling up carrots. He stopped when he saw Merlin and dumped the freshly pulled vegetables in the growing pile by his feet.
"Hi Merlin, come to play?" he asked, brushing the dirt off his hands on his trousers.
"My mum wants me to get firewood, want to come?" Merlin said, sitting on the low fence surrounding the garden and swinging his legs. Will grinned at him.
"Sure but I've got to finish my chores first, mum needs to sell these at market first thing tomorrow," Will replied, holding up the offending carrots with a grimace.
"I'll help you and then we can get wood together."
Merlin jumped down and knelt beside his friend, eager to get Will's chores done faster so they could play. Arthur smiled faintly, it was just like Merlin to help, he was a kind and loyal person but a small voice whispered in his head. He has magic, he's evil, and he was only friends with you so he could take the throne. No, Merlin wasn't like that, he would never betray him like that. Would he? The evil voice returned: hasn't he already betrayed you by practicing magic? Arthur tried to dismiss this thought but it stayed like an unwanted visitor in the back of his mind. Juvenile laughter broke him out of his depressed thoughts as Merlin put two carrots on his forehead and charged at Will, bellowing. Will squealed and threw his own carrots at Merlin. They bounced harmlessly off Merlin's chest as he carried on his pursuit. Arthur noticed what was going to happen seconds before it did, a stray vine snagged Merlin's ankle and he crashed to the ground, right in the middle of a puddle. Water sprayed everywhere, coating the bottom of Will's trousers, the side of the hut and onto a few surprised chickens that had been milling around the vegetable patch. Will chuckled as the hens squawked and ran around in circles, thinking that they were being attacked. He giggled even harder when Merlin picked himself up off the ground. He was coated in a thick layer of mud that was dripping off him and splatting on the floor with squelches. Arthur suppressed his own chuckles at Merlin's clumsiness, some things just don't change. He looked very similar to earlier this morning but covered with mud rather than ink this time. That morning felt like such a long time ago; it had only been an hour since he had been teasing his manservant and now he was watching his worst memories. If falling in a puddle was his worst memory of being a child then this was going to be a breeze, Arthur thought confidently.
By now, young Merlin and Will were heading out of the vegetable patch, their arms full of vegetables. They quickly deposited them with Will's mother before they chased each other out of the village, leaping over logs and avoiding trees. They stopped inside a meadow that was teeming with wildflowers in every imaginable colour. Butterflies floated gently on the slight breeze, drifting from pastel beauty to pastel beauty, skylarks sang merrily from the clouds and a grass snake sunned itself on a nearby rock. The atmosphere was tranquil as if the world was at peace with all things around it. Merlin and Will were lying on their stomachs watching the snake curl and uncurl its tail. Merlin raised his hand and muttered something that made Arthur's stomach drop. Merlin was casting a spell, at this age? It wasn't possible, nobody could do magic so young, not even the druids. Merlin's eyes glowed gold and the snake began to float; he moved his hand to the side and the snake followed. It hissed in surprise as it opened a lazy eye and stared at the rapidly shrinking rock. Will giggled and Merlin made the snake fly higher, letting it circle and spin. The poor reptile squirmed and tried to return to the ground but all it succeeded in doing was ending up upside-down. Arthur gazed in awe as he watched magic being used for something fun and not at all evil. The voice in his head began to speak quieter as Merlin made the snake perform mid-air acrobatics.
Suddenly, a stone sailed through the air and struck Merlin on the forehead, he lost concentration and the snake landed back on its rock with an angry hiss. Both boys looked up, one in anger and the other in pain. Will got to his feet, his small hands bunching into fists, he helped Merlin to his feet and inspected the bruise that was rapidly forming on his forehead. The sun vanished, shadows falling on Will and Merlin as a group of larger teenagers stepped in front of them. The largest, a boy with bulging muscles that would have made Percival bristle, grabbed Merlin by his collar and lifted him off his feet. "Look what we've found, the demon and his friend," he mocked and two of friends surrounded Will. He lifted his fists and punched the closest in the stomach.
"Leave Merlin alone!" he shouted and kicked the other's ankles. They just laughed and twisted his thin arms behind his back in a painfully hard grip. Will yelped and tried to struggle, but he was just a small boy against two much larger, stronger teenagers. They laughed at his feeble struggles until he bit one on the hand. The boy who fell victim to Will's teeth roared in pain before lashing out and striking Will on the back of the head. He crumpled.
"Will!" Merlin yelled, fighting the boy's grip on his collar.
"Now, now little monster, keep still. We wouldn't want you to get hurt too," he said and Arthur got the feeling that the teen was against the idea of not hurting Merlin. He also didn't miss Merlin's flinch at the use of the word monster; the boy didn't miss it either.
"Oh, don't like being called monster eh? What about freak!"
Tears were beginning to form in Merlin's eyes and he went limp in the bigger boy's grip. The group dragged the two friends deep into the woods, where the trees were thick and the foliage blocked most of the sunlight.
"Tie him up," ordered the obvious leader of the group and two of his goons roughly bound Merlin's hands together before doing the same to his ankles. Merlin shook under their grip in terror as they shoved him up against a tree.
"What d-do you w-want with me?" he sniffed and the leader snarled, crushing his throat and blocking his air supply. Arthur leapt forward and tried to pull the teenager off his future manservant. Kileen's voice echoed in his head for the second time, "Young king, you cannot help him, this is just a vision." He halted, centimetres from the bully. Merlin's face was turning a nasty shade of purple and he was gasping like a fish out of water. Will called out to his friend, desperately trying to free himself but his captor's grip was too strong. The teenager released his choking hold on Merlin's throat, letting him drop to the floor. Merlin urgently dragged oxygen into his deprived lungs; the harsh noises sent icy stabs into Arthur's heart as well as a sense of complete helplessness. How could other boys do this to a poor defenceless child? Merlin hadn't hurt anyone with his magic and had only been entertaining himself and Will; why did this result in such harsh treatment?
"Do you know what your kind deserves? Pain," smirked the leader, punching Merlin in the stomach. Arthur heard the precious air leave Merlin's lungs and grimaced at his pained cry. Merlin curled into a ball, trying to protect his head but his bound arms and ankles made it difficult.
"Pain, for what you've done to us normal people, pain for polluting our villages with your feral ways and pain because you're weak," crowed the teen, punctuating each word with a blow to Merlin's fragile form. His friends had joined in now too, kicking the downed boy, aiming for his face and arms. Arthur heard the distinct snap of a rib breaking and Merlin howled in agony, thick tears streaming down his face. Will was screaming now, shrieking for the teenagers to leave Merlin alone but they paid no heed to him as they continued their onslaught of fists and feet. Another crack echoed around the forest as well as several chuckles from the attackers. Merlin screamed. The sound sliced Arthur's heart in two and he sank to his knees, telling himself that the wetness in his eyes weren't tears. He wouldn't cry for a sorcerer. No, but he would cry for a friend.
"Hey Jack, do you think the freak needs his arms?" asked one of the goons, raising Merlin's bound arms. The movement made the boy cry out in pain as his shattered ribs shifted.
"Nah, why would he when he can move things with his mind?"
This was obviously the answer the youth was looking for as he smiled menacingly before slowly inching Merlin's arms up his back. Arthur knew what would happen next as he had used the very same hold on Merlin the first time they met. He turned his head not wanting to see his manservant's agony. The warlock's arms could only bend a certain amount and so with a loud crack they reached their limit, the second popping lost in Merlin's pained scream. The little boy could only deal with so much pain and he passed out, his struggles ceasing. The forest returned to its silence. No bird's singing or animal's usual rustlings filled it and Arthur tried to recall why. A faint memory of a conversation with Gaius one day, entered his mind. The physician had explained that all living things have a sense of the Old Religion and if one of their kin was hurt they wouldn't carry on as normal. He supposed Merlin must count as one of their kin then.
"Let's go, Jack. Someone might have heard his screams, we don't want to get caught," one of the slightly smaller juveniles said, nervously glancing around the area. The others peered at the surrounding bushes and tree trunks but the leader just shrugged.
"Nobody would tell us off for doing it, they would probably thank us for giving this bastard what he deserves," he answered and Arthur opened his mouth in shock. When he, Gwen and Morgana had visited Ealdor it had seemed full of friendly villagers who were eager to assist them. They hadn't seemed at all like the group of youths who were currently beating Merlin to within an inch of his life. The village didn't even lie inside of Camelot's borders, so why did these people hate Merlin?
"It's no fun when he doesn't squawk," muttered another teen, giving Merlin's limp body a vicious kick. "Let's leave, it's getting dark now." Arthur realised that the filtered sunlight was now dimming as the sun slipped lower and lower in the sky. The shadows were growing longer and the cold of night was beginning to seep out of the ground.
"Fine, but give the freak's friend something to discourage him from sticking by the freak's side. Normal people shouldn't mix with the enemy," Jack ordered and began striding off with the rest of the group following. One of the two boys holding Will punched him in the face and threw him to the ground. Will just glared and scurried to his fallen friend's side, ignoring his rapidly swelling eye.
"Merlin? Merlin, wake up," he whispered in a scared voice, gently shaking him by the shoulder. Merlin gave no response. "Come on, it's getting dark and I can't carry you by myself," Will whimpered, his bottom lip wobbling as the light got dimmer. He shook him again less gently this time and it jarred Merlin's abused arms, making him moan and begin to regain consciousness. His eyelids flickered and his brow creased in pain as the aches he hadn't felt deep in unconsciousness made themselves known. Will mumbled Merlin's name again and this time, he got a reaction.
"Will? Is that you?" Merlin croaked, his throat sore from Jack's choking.
"Yes, it's me. Look we have to get you home. Can you walk?"
"Maybe…" Merlin replied, struggling to slide his feet from under him but stopping as pain shot through his battered body. He couldn't move for it. "I don't think I can…"
"You've got to. I can't just leave you here, alone."
"Yes, you can. Go get help. I'll be fine," Merlin pleaded with his friend.
Oh, how Arthur hated than word. Fine. Merlin was never fine; he was always hiding something when he said that.
"But… but…"
"Go," Merlin said, nudging Will with his head and Will stood, wavering on the spot. He bit his lip and looked with worry at his friend's pale features and pained expression. Merlin plastered a grin on his face and repeated his message. Will took one last glance before he sprinted in the direction their captors had taken. The grin faded from Merlin's face and he allowed the shivers, which he had been hiding from his friend, travel along his body.
"Just hold on Merlin," Arthur repeated to himself over and over again as the shivers became more violent and the young warlock couldn't hold his groans in. A blaze of light made him turn from his friend to the last place he had seen Will. He breathed a sigh of relief. He could see torches through the trees and hear voices. Help was coming. Merlin would be alright. The torches and voices were closer now and Arthur could make out silhouettes in the gloom. Hunith rushed towards him, tears flowing down her face and she collapsed at Merlin's side.
"Merlin, oh my darling, please talk to me," she cried, reaching out a hand to brush a stray hair from his face. His eyes fluttered open.
"Mum?" Merlin asked weakly. His fingertips were turning a pale blue and his breathing was shallow and laboured. "It hurts."
"I know darling but help is here. We're taking you home," she shushed and carefully finished untying the ropes that Will's small fingers hadn't been able remove. The skin underneath was red and raw from his thrashings. More people approached, one the woman who Arthur recognised as Will's mother, carrying a makeshift stretcher between them. Two men lifted Merlin onto it, trying to be as careful as possible not to jar his injuries, but there were so many that they couldn't help knocking his arm as they lay him down. The young warlock gasped in pain and Hunith wiped away the tears that spilled out from under his tightly shut eyelids. The solemn party moved away and Arthur followed them, trying to forget his future manservant's screams as those… bullies beat him. He knew they would haunt him for the rest of his life.
The dark forest around him began to blur and flicker before disappearing altogether, transforming back into the Council Chamber in Camelot, but not before Arthur heard Merlin wheeze to his mother, "Am I a monster?" Those words, which should never be uttered by a child of ten, made his stomach churn with anger. If this is what his father had created, it sickened him. To see a helpless child being beaten because he made a snake fly… he didn't want to be part of it. Arthur blinked and gazed at his men who all bore expressions of anger or sadness. It dawned on him then that they had witnessed Merlin's memory as well. Gwen had tears running down her face and Arthur went to move towards her but his limbs refused to co-operate. Kileen's spell was still active. Instead, he locked eyes with his wife, trying to comfort her with a look. She glanced up at him and he realised that she didn't care about the magic, all she had seen was a boy beaten for no reason. A friend whose childhood must have been filled with prejudiced hate and loneliness as other children shunned him.
Leon was frozen, not just by the spell, but in shock. He had a tormented expression on his face and anyone could see that he was questioning the beliefs that had been drummed into him as a knight of Camelot. Those with magic deserve no mercy. The senior knight had killed under that mantra, slaughtered druids because of it and now he had witnessed a pack of teenagers, who didn't even live in Camelot, injure a child. A child who they thought was a freak of nature because he had magic. Although, Leon couldn't help but feel a niggle of fear over Merlin. He had learned as much as he could about magic, so he was better equipped to fight it and Merlin in that memory should not have had it at that age. It wasn't possible… he was a warlock, a boy born with magic.
Gwaine was trembling with rage, his hands fisted by his sides and his expression stormy. He was muttering to himself and Arthur could only faintly hear his words, "those bastards, I'll kill them; I'll kill them for what they did." The knight was remembering all those times when Merlin had helped him deal with his past but he had never given a thought to what Merlin's childhood must have been like. He hadn't even noticed the magic. The flying plates when they had first met, the falling branches; it had been staring him in the face. He should have known.
Percival was staring at Merlin's lifeless form, watching him with such a look of intense sadness that Arthur thought Percival could see into Merlin's very soul. When Kileen walked over and went to nudge the manservant with her foot, he growled at her, a low, threatening noise that would have made the strongest of knights pale. However, she just took a step back and smiled at him.
"Getting protective now are we? I can't say it will help him in anyway when the nest memory starts," she laughed and returned to her seat as the room began to spin. The next memory was beginning.
